Blake Hart
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Beauty & The Jock - Part 13 - Finale
🕑 Added 2025-11-09 15:00:18 +0000 UTCEveryone in this story is 18+
The Diag was a winter postcard, snow blanketing the paths like fresh powder on a ski slope, the kind that crunched under boots and muffled the world into quiet. I hurried across it, puffy coat zipped to my chin, salon kit slung over my shoulder—brushes, pigments, and a fresh batch of hyaluronic serums I'd mixed in class. The cold nipped at my cheeks, but I didn't mind; Ann Arbor had grown on me, its crisp edges and cozy corners feeling more like home than L.A.'s endless sprawl ever did. Up ahead, Kyle emerged from the athletic complex, Michigan Football sweats hugging his frame, steam rising from his damp hair like he'd just stepped off the field. He spotted me, that signature grin splitting his face, and jogged over, snowflakes catching in his lashes.
Without a word, he laced his fingers through mine, our hands swinging easy between us. No one blinked—students bundled in scarves shuffled past, lost in their headphones or hurried conversations. Here, we were just us, no sideways stares, no forced laughs. It was freeing, the kind of normal we'd chased across states.
"Missed you," he said, leaning in for a quick kiss, his lips cold but warming fast against mine.
"It's been three hours," I teased, but I squeezed his hand tighter, the warmth of him seeping through my gloves.
We walked back to our tiny off-campus apartment, the one we'd snagged after transferring—me ditching L.A.'s superficial glow for the University of Michigan's cosmetology track, him trading Alabama's isolation for Michigan's powerhouse FBS program. The place was a honestly a shoebox: string lights draped over the exposed brick, my trusted eucalyptus diffuser humming softly on the windowsill, filling the air with that clean, calming scent. Kyle's playbook sat open on the coffee table next to my pigment charts, pages dog-eared with notes on color theory and play formations tangled together like our lives.
Inside, the door clicked shut, and the cold melted away. Kyle shrugged off his jacket, muscles shifting under his hoodie, and pulled me close, hands sliding under my coat to grip my waist. "How was class?" he asked, but his mouth was already on my neck, teeth grazing the skin there in a way that made my knees weaken.
"Productive," I managed, dropping my kit and tugging at his sweats. "Yours?"
"Same, but I got honey thinking about yah" he smirked, voice rough, backing me toward the bed. We tumbled onto the rumpled sheets, laughter bubbling as we stripped layers—his hoodie, my coat, jeans pooling on the floor. His body was a map I knew by heart: broad shoulders, that trail of hair leading down, his cock already thickening against my thigh, foreskin soft and inviting. I pushed him onto his back, straddling his hips, and leaned down, kissing him deep, tongues tangling slow and hungry.
I trailed lower, lips brushing his chest, tongue flicking a nipple until he arched with a groan. My hand wrapped around him, stroking firm, forcing the foreskin back to reveal the flushed head, already beading clear. I took him into my mouth, feeling the weight, the salt-sharp taste as I bobbed deep, cheeks hollowing with suction. His fingers threaded my hair, hips rocking subtle, breath hitching. "Aaron... yeah, just like that." I sucked hard around him, the vibration pulling a curse from his lips, his thighs tensing under my palms.
But I wanted more—wanted him undone. I pulled off with a wet pop, flipping us so he hovered over me, his eyes dark with want. "Your turn," I whispered, guiding his head down. He grinned, eager, lips closing around my own hardness, tongue swirling the tip before taking me deeper. Still a little clumsy, but god, the enthusiasm—his hand cupping my balls, rolling them gentle as he sucked, the heat building fast and fierce. I bucked into his mouth, fingers gripping the sheets, the edge rushing up until I ejaculated with a gasp, thick surges he swallowed greedy, not missing a drop.
He rose, kissing me fierce, our tastes mingling on his tongue, and I flipped him again, slicking my fingers with lube from the nightstand. I worked him open slow, prying him open until he was panting, then I put my rock hard cock, pressing forward. The stretch gripped me tight, his inner walls fluttering as I sank in, pelvis flush to his ass. We moved together, my thrusts steady at first, then harder, his legs hooked over my shoulders for leverage. His hand pumped himself in time, the slap of skin echoing, sweat slicking us both. "Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, body clamping as he moaned.
We weren't done—breathless, I pulled out, and he flipped me onto my stomach, hands spreading my thighs. His tongue teased first, warm laps circling my hole before dipping in, the sensation fucking wild, making me grind back against his face. Then he slid up, entering me in one smooth thrust, the fullness almost overwhelming, his crown dragging fire along every nerve. He fucked me soft, then faster, hand reaching around to stroke me back to hardness, thumb circling the slit until I was begging. We chased it together, his rhythm building frantic, until he buried deep and let go, flooding me with heat that dripped down my thighs. I followed seconds later, clenching around him, the wave crashing hard and sweet.
Spent, we collapsed, legs tangled, his arm draped over my waist, breaths syncing in the quiet. The snow fell soft outside the window, muffling the world. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, pulling up Zillow on a whim, scrolling through listings. Kyle propped on an elbow, peering over my shoulder, his chin resting on my arm.
"After graduation... how about Toronto?" he said, voice soft but sure, finger tracing a listing for a cozy loft. "You could open your salon—clients lining up. Maybe I'll get a shot with the Argos. CFL's no joke."
I turned to him, grinning, the future unfolding like the snow outside. "Toronto? Yeah, I think I'd like that."
He leaned in, kissing me slow, the kind that promised everything. The flakes swirled beyond the glass, but in here, wrapped in him, it was warm—the future finally ours.
Comments
Blake
So intersting. You must feel very connected to this story. Having lived in both Ann Arbor and now in La. I wanted a neutral ground for both of them, where both could pursue what they love and loving each other too :) I get sad too, the characters almost feels like friends. But they also live on in the stories forever <3
Devin
Well, glad I finally got to read this. I absolutely loved this story. It felt so real to me. U of M / Ann Arbor is very open minded. I lived in Ann Arbor myself and tore that city up. I was a wild child back then. That was many lifetimes ago, but it still holds fond memories. Although I wish I had dated the quarterback. Thanks for another great story. When great stories end, I always find it kind of sad. Like it was something in the past that’s over. Kind of like Ann Arbor.
Patrick
Oooof so good. Would love to hear more for sure.
