Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 72401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
I could hear the excitement in his voice.
He really wanted me to go, and I knew he enjoyed it when I used to run with him.
“Which sister?” I asked worriedly.
“Molly,” he answered immediately before leaving the room and coming back a few minutes later with a pair of black lycra shorts and a racer back tank.
“Will it cover my vagina?” I asked suspiciously.
He laughed and tossed them at me.
“Try it on and find out,” he taunted.
“I don’t have any panties,” I tried again.
He went to his closet, pulled out an army green sack, and dug down to the very bottom, his whole arm disappearing inside.
His hand reappeared again, clutching something black lace.
I looked at them suspiciously. “Are those my panties?”
I’d been missing that particular pair for nearly a year now.
“Yep,” he agreed before tossing them to me.
I caught them with a clench of my fist and held them up for inspection. “They smell clean. They’re washed...right?” I asked.
He nodded. “I washed them when I put them away. They got some sand in them,” he explained.
“Sand?” I asked, confused.
He nodded. “They went across the world with me. They were in my pocket for nearly a year.”
My mouth dropped open. “What?”
It came out sounding quite shrill, but what the fuck?
He cracked a smile. “Gave me good luck.”
I rolled my eyes and stood from the bed, disentangling my feet from the sheet as I walked to the bathroom with the pile of clothes.
“I’ll need my bra,” I informed him as I walked into the bathroom.
Finishing my business and using my finger to brush my teeth, I inspected his bathroom in awe.
The whole thing was white.
White walls. White ceiling. White floor. White frosted glass covering a walk in shower. It looked awesome; similar to my kitchen, as a matter of fact…only ten times better.
“Here,” Cleo rumbled from behind me.
I bent down in front of him, giving him a good show as I slipped my feet into the thong, followed shortly by the shorts.
I was right. They barely covered my cooch.
“This is a bad idea,” I said as I turned and held out my hand for the bra dangling from his fingers.
Instead of handing it to me, he walked behind me, looped the bra around my belly, and hooked it in the back.
The thin nylon of his shorts was doing a piss poor job at keeping his dick confined, but I wasn’t complaining.
My bra was one of those supportive, sports bra ones.
Last night was supposed to have been just a quick drink with friends.
If I’d known I was going to get fucked, thoroughly, I would’ve worn my good lingerie.
Once the bra was clipped, he raised it up until it was resting underneath my breasts.
He accidentally grazed my nipples with his hands as he pulled the cups up over my boobs, and I barely stifled a groan.
Must stop thinking about Cleo’s dick. I scolded myself.
I slipped my hands into the loops, and then rearranged my breasts for comfort instead of sex appeal.
“Shame,” he said as he stepped away.
Leaning towards the sink, I grabbed the tank off the counter, slipped it over my head, and grimaced at how tight it was.
“Jesus,” I said as I inspected myself in the mirror.
I looked like an Oompa Loompa.
“What?” He asked as his eyes centered on my fat ass.
“I look like a whale,” I said.
He looked up and caught my eyes before prowling forward and bringing my body back against his with a hand at my belly.
His rock hard cock dug into the small of my back and I froze.
“You’re not a whale. You look so fucking sexy that I’m contemplating my morning run, substituting it with fucking your ass into the floor.”
“Sounds painful,” I rasped.
He grinned, his dark eyes lowering until all I could see was the slit of his iris under the dark slash of his lashes.
“It could be. But it’d also feel fucking awesome at the same time,” he admonished.
I snorted. “Let’s go. All your dirty talking is making me need a shower.”
He grinned and then grabbed my hand. “Sir, yes, sir.”
I smacked his ass, urging him forward. “Any day now, soldier.”
“I’m a PJ, darlin’. Not a soldier,” he informed me haughtily.
I snorted.
Touchy, touchy.
We walked out into the cool morning air, down the front walk, and to the street where we both stretched.
I’ll admit I put a little extra bend in my stretch, making sure he could see how flexible I was, just to give his mind a little tease on what was to come.
“You ready?” I asked after he stopped stretching and just stared.
He blinked and then nodded. “10-4.”
The run started out slow, but quickly picked up pace as I tried my damndest to keep up with him.
The only thing that kept me going so long was watching the play of his muscles as he took one long stride after another.
Today he’d get about a hundred yards in front of me, and then turn back around until he reached me. Immediately followed by him turning back around and repeating the process.
He’d probably gotten about twice the run in than I did, but the view was amazing.
After what felt like nearly three miles, but was probably more like one, I finally raised the proverbial white flag. “I gotta stop,” I wheezed, waving my hand in the air once he was back.
He stopped immediately and came back to me, his hands on his hips and his beautiful chest moving slightly faster than normal.
His face was dripping sweat, mingling with that on his chest, and running down the ridged muscles of his abs to disappear in the waistband of his boxers.
“You did pretty good. Got a mile out of you at least,” he grinned.
As he got closer, I could see each individual rivulet of sweat roll.
I’d never been a fan of sweat.
It was bad enough when I did it, but just then, with Cleo all sweaty and sexy as if he’d just had sex for hours, I was turned on beyond belief.
“I tried,” I managed to get out.
“You did good. Proud of you,” he said as he took my hand and started walking back to his house.