Hey guys, I'm adding a new chapter. I have no idea how long this will go. Inspiration just hits. I don't think there will be a real plot, just these little moments between our favorite couple. This might be on the T side of things. I own nothing.
She liked sports. That is what really surprised him, he knew that before Samantha and he had showed up at her front door, she'd known nothing of the sports world nor had any desire to learn. It simply wasn't her cup of tea. However, slowly through the years not only had she indulged him but now after 3 years of marriage, he had forgotten what a girly girl she had started out as. It had started with a game of one on one, when they thought her date had been grounded in Boston. Then it was learning baseball, he had to admit seeing her in a uniform drove him wild, not that he'd told her then. Yes, Angela was sexy in her business suits, her casual sweats, and her jeans, but seeing her in that tight uniform, watching her play ball; well at the time as his employer, he shouldn't have been having those thoughts. She learned football and boxing, had even wanted to pig out to a Super Bowl. After they'd started dating, she took to his pursuits with more passion. She'd even said, pressed up against him tightly, that it was important for them to share each other's passions.
Boy did she, after he came back from Iowa, he'd been amazed at just what all she did enjoy. She loved watching football, every Sunday in the fall she was parked in front of a television rooting the Giants to victory. He didn't know what, but football just brought something out in her, about the middle of the third quarter she'd start catching his gaze with a certain look in her eyes. Afterwards, she was like a woman possessed and all he could do was submit. She could be so aggressive when she wanted, and it always happened during football season. Win or lose, after the game, she wanted him somewhere alone, she pushed, shoved, mounted him, and exhausted herself with him. Not that he minded of course, hell she could do anything she wanted to him. He was always thrilled to see this side of her, he was sure no one else ever had.
It was only football that did that to her, he'd thought maybe the physicality of the game is what turned her on. However, a few hockey games and that one boxing match, he realized that wasn't it. Angela had hated both, too bloody, especially the boxing match. She'd known he'd boxed in his youth, a brief period; after the match when they'd got home, she had pampered him like she was afraid he'd break. When he questioned her, she just looked at him with misty eyes, and said, "I'm so glad you didn't do that for long, Tony the thought of you being beaten if only for sport." She hadn't been able to finish, tearing up, he'd brought her into his arms, assured he was alright, and they had made slow tender love.
She loved going to Mets games with him and had really taken to learning baseball. That had started in Iowa, she was the coach's fiancé after all. She felt she had to learn more for the sake of being a good ambassador. It continued after they married, and he took the job as Fairfield High varsity coach; now she knew because as the team mom the positions had faces and she wanted to learn as much about the boys as she could. Still, they loved their Friday or Saturday nights at Shea, down the third base line, sharing popcorn and beer. She'd listen intently as he explained the game to her, broke down the strategy; these last years she'd learned what OBP, ERA, WISP, and even RBI stood for. As he'd talk statistics to her, he'd notice how she placed her hand all so innocently on just the inside of his knee. The more the game went on the lower her hand would go. She would slide it down past below his knee, inching toward his inner thigh, by the seventh inning stretch she'd just have her hand comfortably sitting on his inner thigh. Just centimeters from where he'd most want her touch. They'd always share a glance of pure heat and knew they needed to get alone somewhere. It was always hard on Tony, having her so close, touching him, her scent; he'd have to remove her hand to calm himself down just so he could walk out of the ballpark without causing embarrassment. They'd get into the car and her hand would go right back to the inside of his thigh. Though, since they were semiprivate she was more bold with where and what she did with her hands. She'd waste no time and pop the button open and play with the zipper all the while nuzzling his neck as he attempted to drive. He'd warn her, that he didn't want to wreck if she could just control herself for a few moments while he drove them home. She'd kiss her earlobe and whisper, "Can I help it if hearing you talk ball majorly turns me on?" As he tried to keep the car between the lines and not kill them so they could get home and indulge themselves. Once or twice, they hadn't even made it back to Fairfield, having to find a motel and just give in. One of the hottest memories he has, is not long after their honeymoon, getting a room at the Hilton for three days. Hell, they'd hadn't even known it had been three days, they were otherwise occupied. Tony had chalked it up to them both having to deny themselves for so long and now that they were together in every sense of the word, it was like they were making up for lost time.
Her favorite though seemed to be basketball. Not watching but playing one on one in the driveway with him; and it was only him she'd play with. Whenever the kids were home and a family game would start up, she'd excuse herself to the picnic table to watch. It was only with him that she liked to play, and he was starting to only like playing with her. He certainly was glad the kids weren't here now, as she took the ball up court from him. She was wearing her black workout shorts, the one's that hugged her butt like a second skin and a tight pink tank top. It was hard to concentrate with her dressed like that as she came toward him, he moved into position to guard her, and Angela turned slightly away to protect her dribble. Tony ached to touch her, especially when she pushed her perfect butt right into his crotch. He growled,
"Angela, no fair," in a hoarse voice both with adrenaline and arousal.
"What," she said innocently, yet knowing exactly what she was doing as she pressed her backside harder into his crotch, "I have to protect the ball."
"Babe, you are dangerously close to a drawing a charge foul here," he said as he pressed his torso into her back. Two could play at this game.
"Now I do believe you are committing a flagrant foul," she stated as Tony leaned in, putting his hands on her waist.
"Hey, you fouled me first," he said, loving the way she fit against him.
"That wasn't a foul," she started and then shed his body from her and turned to face him, "This is," she declared as she smashed into him full force taking his lips with hers.
Tony was vaguely aware of the sound of the ball still hitting the pavement, as he was lost to her soft lips. The sound of the ball hitting the backboard brought him out of it.
"I do believe that ties it up Mr. Micelli," said Angela gloating. "I thought you were the big strong manly athlete, and here you are tied up with little puny me," she teased him.
"That's because, Mrs. Micelli doesn't play fair," he pouted.
"Aww poor baby," she said back.
"Angela, you know full darn well what you are doing to me," he defended his subpar play.
"Hey, if you can't take a little heat, then stay off the court," she countered back. "Your ball," she said tossing it back to him.
He started dribbling up the court, she knew him well, knew exactly his tactic when he found himself struggling. He dribbled right but she countered. She was in his back pocket, she hovered over him, and now it was she who draped herself across his back. He could feel her breast against his back and that did him in.
"Fine," he turned, threw the ball, he didn't know where, he didn't care. "You win," he said huskily wrapping his arms around her, drawing her closer and placing a searing kiss on her smiling lips.
His hands were everywhere, up, and down her back, cupping her bottom, his arousal pressed to her core. She moaned and he thought he might burst if he didn't have her right then.
"Think we can make it to the bedroom?" he asked breathlessly as he continued to rain kissed down her neck.
"Nope, kitchen table, definitely," taking his hand and racing them toward the direction of the back door. Eager to finish each other off.