With a rasping laugh, he scoops me off the ground, crushing me to his chest. Automatically, my legs wrap around his hips, our foreheads meeting, his blue eyes sparkling so close to mine…and I guess…oh, God, I guess it is possible to fall in love this fast. My heart is hammering, frenzied in my chest, and his body feels so incredibly warm and right against mine. There’s an overwhelming sense that I’m in the exact right place, with the exact right person.
“You did it,” he says, kissing my mouth softly, then with more insistence. “You’ll be ready for the major leagues in no time.” His breath comes faster, one hand tunneling through my hair, intensity blazing in his eyes. “Right now, though, Pippa…I just need you ready for me.”
“I am,” I whimper, no idea if I’m speaking the truth. “I…think.”
His chest heaves against mine. “Is your pussy wet?”
I nod vigorously.
“I’m so fucking hard for you, little girl,” he grits, our lips touching, his steps taking me somewhere. “It’s going to be over in two pumps so I have to lick you off first.”
All I can do is nod and cling as Cort falls to his knees, pitching forward and laying me down on the soft, fake grass. He presses me down onto my back, our mouths meeting and mating in a furious rhythm. In the brief moments we come up for air, I watch in breathless awe as he shoves down the waistband of his sweatpants, his erection bounding free, so large and broad. Thick from root to tip. Wrapped in veins and verging on purple.
He wraps a huge hand around the whole of his shaft, stroking it roughly as he walks back on his knees and pushes apart my thighs.
I thought baseball was magic.
I didn’t know about Cort’s tongue.
He slaps it down on the valley of my sex, working it gently until my flesh parts and he begins to lick me with long, relishing swipes of his tongue. His groans are animal in nature, his right triceps flexing gloriously as he masturbates himself. I want to watch. I want to watch every second of this act I’ve never been part of before, but the sensations are too strong and I end up flat on my back, whining and lifting up my hips for more. More.
Maybe I even say that word—more—out loud, because Cort lets go of his shaft and pumps his long middle finger inside me, drawing it in and out slowly, his tongue finding my clit and polishing it with rough circles. Every muscle below my belly button seems to contract in anticipation and now…now I know what’s coming. So my body races toward it with open arms, desperate for relief.
Gasping, I open my eyes long enough to marvel at the godlike flex of his back and shoulders, the slick movements of his wet mouth, the way his eyes glitter up at me and my fingers dig into the grass for purchase. For dear life.
“Cort. Cort.” I pant, a single word ripping up and out of some deep, secret part of me that only this man can touch. “Daddy.”
My orgasm has only started to peak when God’s gift to baseball pounces on me like a predator tackling his prey. I’m mid-scream, shuddering violently on a tide of bliss as Cort growls into my neck, shoves my thighs apart and thrusts his shaft several inches inside of me. It’s almost indescribable, this act of being conquered. Of having my body used for a man’s pleasure, right there on the ground, with him in such a frenzied state. And my God, he’s so big. So thick and pressing, his hardness stretching me almost to the point of pain. But there is nothing but an eagerness for more of him. More, more, more. More of this mating. More of him claiming me completely. My body clamors for it, my fingernails digging into his buttocks, my vocal cords straining with the call of his name.
“You call me Daddy, you get fucked down and dirty, horny girl. You hearing me?” With a grunt, he pushes the rest of his inches inside me and I wail incoherently, my climax pushed higher and further by the invasion. “Go on and shake. Get that cream all over me. I only got one more pump before I drain this thing all up in that tight ass pussy.”
“I want it,” I say, barely aware of my words or what they mean. Only that this man relieving himself between my legs is what nature intended. My blood pumps hot and wild, my thighs falling wide to urge him on. I can’t seem to find the bottom of my orgasm, it just keeps going, my flesh convulsing without cease around his thickness. Worshipping it. “Please.”
“Please, what?”
“Please, Daddy!”
Cort’s mouth stamps down on mine, holding me there with suction, his eyes boring down into mine with a fire I’ve never witnessed in another human being—and I scream into his kiss when those hips rear back and buck forward, driving me up the grass, his spend scathing the walls of my femininity, the blue of his eyes flashing and going blind, his huge athlete’s body jerking violently on top of mine. The cords in his throat stand out, his bellow releasing into the space between our sweat-slicked bodies.