Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
So yeah, I have no idea how I’m going to break the ugly truth to Grace. She’ll be devastated and probably kick me to the curb. But it’s for the best because a woman so soft and sweet deserves better than me. She deserves a man who will care for her, and comfort her when she cries. She deserves a man who will put a roof over her head, and give her a passel of children. She deserves a man who’s loyal and kind, and who will make her an honest woman with a diamond on her finger and the promise of a golden anniversary. Meanwhile, I’m a motherfucker who only looks out for myself. Kids? Marriage? Hell no. That shit is fucked-up and I wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole.
Still, as I watch Gracie jogging off in the distance, her voluptuous curves barely contained by her tiny run outfit, my heart softens in my chest because the young woman would be an incredible mother. I can see it already: Gracie, with a baby latched to her breast, as a tow-headed toddler stumbles up, his face and fingers sticky. She’ll laugh before pressing a kiss to his forehead, only to have the child scamper off again as the baby continues to drink. That’s my girl, so womanly and fine, nurturing two kiddos. A painful pang shoots deep in my gut then. What the fuck ... am I actually experiencing longing? Do I actually want to be the man that puts those children in her belly? The ring on her finger, even?
Then, I draw up abruptly because the fact is that I can’t. I’ve always been aware of my deviant nature, and when I was in my twenties, I had a vasectomy. It wasn’t a hard decision, nor anything I had to ponder for an extended period. Sure, the surgeon warned me that the procedure would be near-impossible to undo, and that I was on the young side to request the operation. But I’m a fucked up individual, and I’d be a fucked up father too. I wouldn’t do that to a child, so I went through with it and have never regretted the decision.
Now though ... fuck, I don’t know. I curse myself internally before setting off in a jog after my girl. Grace is so lush, womanly, and so feminine in every way. I have an urge to pounce on her before ravaging that curvy female form. I want to breed her, making her mewl as I fill her with cream, and then watch with satisfaction as her belly grows and swells with child. I want... I want....
But I can’t because vasectomies are forever. That ship has sailed, and there’s no turning back. Seriously, I shouldn’t be feeling regret because I know Grace is too good for me. She’s too sweet and innocent, not to mention young. The curvy girl deserves better, and I’m the guilty motherfucker wasting her time.
I finally catch up to her, and she smiles while glancing back at me over one shoulder.
“Took you long enough,” she says in a sassy tone while sticking out her tongue. “Do old geezers all run slow? Or are there some fast ones?”
That does it. It’s the words combined with the bouncing curves, combined with the tongue move. I literally tackle the young woman, bringing her to the ground, although I make sure to roll as we tumble so that she’s cushioned from the fall by my rock hard frame. Then, her sports bra and skirt are off, leaving her clad in nothing but a tiny pair of panties. That, too, is gone in a moment, although I pause to inhale from the lace, enjoying the scent of fertile cunt mixed with pussy sweat.
“Oh my god!” she squeals, her skin glistening and firm in the afternoon light. “We’re out on a trail, Braden! Someone could see.”
“No one’s going to see,” I growl while pushing her down so that she’s crouched face forward, her hands braced against a log stump. “No one ever comes out here, so I’m going to fuck you until you’re crying. Now shut up and take my dick,” I say in a harsh tone. Then, I fuck into that tiny twat, so big that she literally freezes for a moment.
“Ohhhh!” she wails, her head tilting back. “Oh my god, oh my god!”
“Fuuuck,” I groan into her ear from behind, my chest plastered against her sinuous back. “Is it possible that you get tighter with every fuck? Is that even a thing?”
But she can’t answer because I’ve levered us to our feet, pushing her back down so that she has to brace her hands against the stump. Then, I begin jackhammering into that tight twat. The sound of wet flesh slapping in the woods is loud, and Grace wails again, her big breasts dangling as she’s fucked.