Chapter 23

When the voices passed, he turned me around and yanked my pants below my knees. I forgot the jock, but he didn’t seem to notice in the dark.

“Garbi—”

“Quiet,” he growled, then spit.

The hot saliva seeped along my crack, but Garbi didn’t wait for it to lube my hole. He inserted his middle finger, turned his wrist, and wiggled it deeper. I panicked when a second digit spread my hole and took its place beside the first.

“I don’t have a condom,” I grunted.

He plunged deeper, ignoring my plea. Finally, he removed his fingers and spit again. This time, his cock head teased my puckered, tormented hole.

I bucked and tried to turn, but he kicked apart my legs and grabbed my hips. I fell forward and caused the bleachers to tremble.

“Someone’s down there,” a voice said.

Through the slits in the bleachers, a man peered into the darkness. We didn’t move, and the man eventually turned back to the action on the field.