A blues girlfriend- Virgil van Dijk
You are sitting on the couch at home, snuggled up next to Virgil van Dijk. The atmosphere is quiet, the sound of the television in the background is barely perceptible. His presence was always reassuring, a mix of strength and sweetness that made you feel protected. He has his arm resting on your shoulder, his fingers slowly marking circles on the fabric of your shirt.
You turn slightly to look at him, the sculpted profile of his face is illuminated by the light of the screen. He looks down at you with a smile just touched, one of those smiles that always make you get butterflies in your stomach.
"Virgil," you start out in an innocent tone, but the mischievous gleam in your eyes does not escape him.
"Hm?" he answers without taking his eyes off you, curious.
"Could you... play badly against Arsenal?" you ask in a soft voice, almost as if you were proposing the most logical thing in the world. Hold a grin, knowing what his reaction will be.
Slowly, his right eyebrow rises. He looks at you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief, and for a moment there is only silence. Then he tilts his head to the side, his gaze becomes tighter and more penetrating.
"Wait, wait... what did you say?" he asks, his voice low and a hint of jealousy that shines through behind the jesting tone.
You shrug with an innocent expression, but you canβt hold back your smile.
"You know, if Liverpool loses to Arsenal, Chelsea has a better chance of getting back on the board. Itβs not a big sacrifice, is it?" Add, touching his chest with fingers in an innocent and provocative gesture at the same time.
He stares at you intensely, his gaze is now deeper. He moistens his lips with his tongue and then shakes his head, letting out a brief incredulous laugh.
"Ah, so is that it? youβre more supportive of Chelsea than you are of me?" He replies with a calm voice, but his dark eyes hold you captive, full of silent jealousy that he had never openly admitted.
"Come on, baby, you know Iβm a big fan of Chelsea," you say, putting your head against his shoulder. "Thatβs not new."
"I know," he replies slowly, his voice more raucous. He turns slightly, so that he looks you straight in the eye. "But that doesnβt mean I like it."
Feel his arm clench around you, and the warmth of his hand on your shoulder gives you a jolt. Your heart beats faster.
"Oh, are you jealous?" you ask, challenging him with a funny smile.
"Maybe a little," he admits with a slight grin, hid lips dangerously close to yours. "I donβt like it when youβre not rooting for me. Makes me think you donβt support me as well as you should."
"Oh, poor baby," you joke, trying to keep a defiance tone, but your voice goes down unconsciously. "Do I have to cheer for you when you play against my team?"
"Yes, thatβs what Iβm saying," he replies with a confident smile, his voice getting lower and more seductive. "Youβre mine, arenβt you? Then you must cheer for me. Period."
You donβt have time to answer. Before you can open your mouth, he leans over you and kisses you with an overwhelming passion. His lips move with a decided sweetness, and the warmth of his kiss envelops you like a flame. A big hand slips behind your neck, fingers sink gently into your hair, locking you in that delicate but authoritative grip.
Your breath is broken, and your mind is empty instantly. The awareness of what you were trying to do disappears under the pressure of his lips against yours. Every logical reasoning gives way to that feeling of warmth that runs through you all.
Virgil interrupts the kiss for a moment, his eyes burning with intensity as he stares at you.
"I told you so," he whispers in his deeper voice than before. "I come before Chelsea."
Youβre short of breath, warm cheeks, and your answer is a whisper you can barely utter.
"You are unbearable," murmurs, the eyes lost in his, the heartbeat accelerated.
"Yes, but Iβm your unbearable," he counters with a triumphant grin, leaving you speechless.
You stare at him, trying to catch up, but the smile that lights his face makes you lose any desire to counter. You already know he won, and he knows better than you.
"So," he adds, tongue-licking as if he was still enjoying the kiss, "I will play against Arsenal. And not only will I play... but Iβll do everything to win. And you know what? When I score, my first thought will be you. My girl who cheers for Chelsea."
"Ah, youβre unbearable!" you exclaimed, laughing as you slap a light punch on his chest.
"Youβve said it before," he replies with a smile full of arrogance and affection at the same time. He holds you closer to him, his arms wrap you with that sure and stable force that you have always loved in him.
"I come before Chelsea, remember that," he whispers to your face and then kisses you again
The kiss becomes more passionate as Virgil explores your mouth with his tongue and you groan.
With a fluidity that leaves you breathless, Virgil lays you down on the couch gently, his big strong hands guiding you with sweetness and determination. It makes you lie down with a slowness that feels like safety and control. His body moves over yours with the grace of a sure predator of its prey. His eyes follow your every movement, his gaze burns with an intensity that makes you spin your head.
"Now donβt run," he whispers in that husky voice that makes your soul vibrate. His lips bend in a smile that drives you crazy, a promise and a challenge together.
His hands slowly caress you, sliding down your hips with a delicacy that contrasts with the strength of his movements. It keeps you still, but at the same time it makes you feel free. The beat of your heart accelerates, every sense is concentrated on him, on his touch, on every breath you feel against your skin.
"Youβre too stubborn," he whispers against your lips, his warm breath tickling you. "But I like it that way."
And then he kisses you. But this time itβs different. Itβs not a sudden or impetuous kiss. Itβs slow, deep, studied. His lips move against yours with a precision that makes you lose your breath. Every second that passes, the world around you vanishes. There is no more television in the background, there is no more dim light in the room. Itβs just you two.
His hands caress your face, thumbs trace little circles on your cheeks. Hi8s touch is so sweet that you almost cry. Yet there is a strength in that gesture, a silent promise. He holds you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, and at that moment you feel just like that.
Feel the weight of his body against yours, not too heavy, but enough to make you feel protected, safe. His lips move more now, and your breath is mixed with his. Your fingertips run along his broad shoulders, tracing the line of his muscles. Every corner of his body is carved to perfection, and it seems almost unreal that itβs all yours.
"Tell me," he whispers against your lips, interrupting the kiss for just a moment. "Who comes first, me or Chelsea?" His voice is full of arrogant confidence, but his eyes are full of expectation. Itβs not just a question, itβs a challenge.
Pretend to think about it, tilting your head slightly and biting your lip to hold a smile. "Letβs see..." Jokes, but you do not in time to finish the sentence that his lips return to claim you, more hungry than before.
"Wrong answer," he whispers against your mouth before kissing you again, and this time itβs more insistent, deeper. You find yourself letting go completely, your hands clinging to his back as the kiss becomes more intense. There is no Chelsea, no Premier League ranking. There is only Virgil, with his strength and his sweetness fused into one overwhelming embrace.
When he broke off the kiss, he turned you on your stomach and pulled out your pants and underwear leaving you naked in front of him, Virgil began to strip himself and sucked his dick on his hands to then rub you on your entrance making you groan.
You tried to push your hips back to feel more friction but he blocked you. " do the good blues" he said mocking you and then with a quick blow he put his dick inside of you.
You cried a whimper and your whole body felt weak for a moment. He grunted feeling you tight and took a handful of your hair to arch your back against his chest and started fucking you making you scream moaning.
You lowered your head on your shoulders, while leaning against his body. He looked at you and smiled when he saw your fucking face with his mouth open and kissed you ruddy as he kept fucking you.
You moaned even louder feeling his power and how he was filling you with his cock. "Chelsea comes first, huh?" he whisper to your ear, then nibble playfully on your lobe and you groan without giving him an answer.
Virgil put his hand on your pussy and started to insert a finger into your pussy and made it move as he began to increase his thrusts even faster.
You groaned, focusing on your pleasure and Virgil began to attack your neck with bites and kisses. " Answer me when I ask you a question" he said and gave you a push that made you bend on your legs on the couch.
He started to fuck you without stopping and you were screaming with pleasure his name. He grunted as you felt that you were close. "Thatβs fine," you whispers with a short breath as he is still fucking you. "You come first."
A triumphant smile lights up his face. "I know," he says, with that arrogance that drives you crazy. His lips touch your neck, leaving a trail of light kisses that make you shiver. "And Iβll remind you of it every time you try to forget it." He continued giving you a last shot by making you cum on his cock and he kept hitting you until he cummed inside of you.
"a blues girl who gets cum in her pussy held by a player of the Liverpool, that bad girl" he said jokingly.
I pull his dick out and you whimpered about the loss of contact. Virgil sat on the couch trying to catch his breath and you crawled over to him kissing him and he hugged you.
"Youβre mine, donβt forget it" whispered.
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