Z-Rated (Chocolate Flava 3)

She was moaning quietly, with a little hiss thrown in when it really felt good to her. He didn’t dare touch her anywhere else and break the magic of the moment, but he could tell she was reaching her peak from the shudder she gave and the guttural growl that whooshed from her lips like the sound of an alley cat in heat.

She came in a hard rush and everything her underwear didn’t capture slathered over his fingers.

He smiled. She was a squirter! His cock hardened and it was a big one.

He removed his wet hand and straightened and watched her get up using the bat as leverage. What if she brains me with it? he thought. But in the dim light, he could see her face was flushed with—exertion? Embarrassment from her massive cum? What did one say at a time like this? Was it good for you? Or, You really needed that, didn’t you? But then it was something he needed, too—that and more, but never in his wildest dreams did he think it would be with her.

“Look, I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” he tried to explain.

“You never struck me as a chubby chaser,” she said.

“Don’t say that.” His voice was low. He didn’t want her misplaced attempt at humor to break the mood.

“I felt your cock against my ass this afternoon and I realized it wasn’t your fault; things like that happen,” she said, looking at him earnestly and then shrugging as though it didn’t matter.

Is she apologizing? he wondered. Where was the hard, brash she-bitch he was used to? That was the person he could handle. Not this woman who didn’t seem so large now, and whose face seemed softer in the darkness. Even her voice, with that Kathleen Turner sultriness, was gentler now.

“It felt good—you felt good,” Jai said.

She laughed and her breasts jiggled a little, and to him it seemed so natural and tantalizing. He suddenly felt an urge to clamp his mouth on them, to suck her nipples until she moaned with delight.

“Yeah, that’s what my kids’ dad said right before he left me for someone who was a size four.”

“You shouldn’t put yourself down.”

“I’m not. I was never actually thin, and after two kids, a full-time job, and a shitload of housework to do, going to the gym wasn’t on my immediate priority list.” She switched the bat to her other hand and pulled her sweatshirt closer around her.

“I have to ask you something,” he said, keeping his eyes above nipple level. “Why do you always give me a hard time on the field?”

“Because you suck as a Little League coach.”

“I do not!” he said defensively, then noticed her teasing grin.

“Well, you don’t actually suck. I guess it’s because people never expect women to be Little League coaches and well, I suppose my attitude is more of a defense mechanism. Besides, come to think of it, you never actually went out of your way to make me feel welcome.”

She was right; he hadn’t.

There was a long pause as she saw him staring at her. Not her body, but her face; almost like he was seeing something beyond her, something that softened him.

“I’m sorry you had to come out,” she said, clearing her throat.

“Are you sorry you came?” The question had a double meaning and he knew she was smart enough to catch it.

“No, I’m not.”

Another long moment passed between them. It was as though everything that wasn’t being said was being shouted at them like a chant at a playoff game.

“I better get going. No telling what my boys are tearing up,” she said, breaking the silence.

“Nyrah …” He said her name gently. “Stay a minute.”

“Why?”

“To talk.”

“About what? About you wanting to see me open up and cum again? Is that it?”

There it was—the brash ball field witch again, but it wasn’t really her; he knew that now. It was the mask she hid behind for emotional protection.