Throwing Curves by Carly Keene

Author:Carly Keene [Keene, Carly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-20T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

Danny

This girl could wear me out.

I’d be happy to go this way. The last girlfriend I had was three years ago, and it seemed like she didn’t want sex as much as I did. It’s been short-term stuff since then, nobody worthwhile—not like Marisha. Not like this caramel-skinned beauty, with her corkscrew hair and her lovely full breasts, her fierceness, her wide smile and the incredible heat of her tight, sweet pussy.

I feel her grinding against my ass, and I can’t help smiling. I need a minute, but she still wants me. “You need more?”

“I’m just keepin’ warm,” she says. “You relax.”

Even though I’ve just blown a massive wad, my dick is starting to swell under me again as her fingers caress my back in a gentle massage. It’s not very long before I roll back over, smiling up at my beautiful curvy girl.

“Already?” she says in surprise, looking at my stiffening dick.

“Not quite yet. But it won’t take long.” I put my hands on her generous hips and pull her to where she can glide along me, her sweet wet pussy lips on either side of my cock. “Especially if you do that.” I keep my hands on her hips, helping her move, watching her face.

“I suppose you think I never had a good fuck until you came along?” she teases, and my breath catches in my throat as she seems to get wetter.

“I think you never had anything like me,” I say, “and I sure never had anything as good as you before. Not even close.” I look down to where she’s still sliding her vulva back and forth on my cock, faster now. “This might be the sexiest thing I have ever seen.”

“Oh?” Her voice is higher now, and she’s breathing harder.

“If you came on my cock right now, that might be even sexier.”

“You want me to come, Jock Boy?”

“I think you mean Cock Boy.”

And that does it. She laughs once, then throws her head back and grinds faster, crying out pleasure. I feel it when she comes. And then she rises up just far enough to slip my prick inside her, and rides me, our hands clasped hard together. It lasts a long time, and we finish together this time.

I pull her down beside me and into my arms.

“Stay,” she says, before I fall asleep.

Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.

We wake once more in the night, chilled until we get under the covers. We talk this time, caressing each other gently, letting our desire build slow this time. Marisha talks about how crazy her parents still are about each other, and how they were always sneaking off for a “nap” on Sunday afternoons which was not really a nap. I talk about my parents being rock-solid for each other and for me and my sisters. We talk about old boyfriends and girlfriends, and how they were never really right for us.

We talk about our dreams, too. I really think I’m going to get called up soon—my pitching coach says so.

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