Carol quietly sat on her side of the sofa, curled into the corner pretending to watch Netflix. Mike, oblivious to the turmoil going on inside her sat on the other side. He was immersed in some game on his phone and probably wouldn’t even notice if she was flat out talking to him.
She thought back on the night she’d just had. They lost the game. That wasn’t such a big deal. It was just an exhibition match after all. It was the exhibition that came after that had her chewing at her nails like a teenager before a school dance.
As a punishment for losing, the captains had agreed to some pretty raunchy public terms. In front of both teams, Carol had to first eat out Bruhmilda Abrahams’s ass and then she had to bend over and get fucked with a strap. It was extreme, to say the least, but the league punishments always were. As the captain you just grinned and bared with it. You weren’t supposed to like tradition, you were supposed to respect it. Thing is though, she did like it. They both liked it. They liked it so much that they didn’t stop fucking until long after the other players had gotten bored or embarrassed and left. And now, here she was, her handsome, caring, totally oblivious boyfriend sitting in touching distance and all she could think of was Bruhmilda’s soft fingertips sliding up her legs, grabbing her hips, the strap stretching her wide as expert fingers found her clit. Carol groaned involuntarily.
“This is bullshit,” Mike suddenly exclaimed ripping Carol out of her thought spiral. He still had his phone in his hand and Carol’s mind did mental calisthenics as she tried not to jump to the worst conclusion.
“What?” She didn’t have to feign her surprise. She only had to hide her fear that she’d been caught out.
“It’s a Saturday night. I have a beautiful girlfriend. We’re not even 25 yet. Let’s go out!” Mike got out of his seat and lifted her in his arms. Carol couldn’t help but giggle as he easily picked her up so her legs were around him and held her against his chest. Mike was a big bear of a man. His 195cm made her 175 look short. He was shirtless and she ran her hand through his chest hair, getting ideas that had nothing to do with getting dressed and going out.
“I thought you hated going out,” she leaned in and playfully bit at his ear.
“But I love seeing you in a tight black dress,” he replied and grabbed her ass. Her legs automatically wrapped tighter around his waist.
“If you like a tight fit, I’m sure we can find something to do at home,” she teased.
“You’re hilarious,” he laughed from his belly, but she could feel him growing underneath her ass. She cut off his laugh with a deep toe curling kiss.
“Come on. Take me to the bedroom and we’ll fuck like people who aren’t even 25 yet,” she purred in her most sultry voice. His mouth was open wide. Carol didn’t usually talk like this. But before she could get worried about acting suspicious, he turned on his heels and carried her to the bedroom.
One moment Carol was in Mike’s arm wearing comfy shorts and a T-shirt, the next she was on the bed and Mike was tossing her clothes aside. He kneeled to open her legs. It was his usual opening move, but tonight wasn’t the night for that routine.
She leaned forward and put her hand on his chest, “sit on the bed.” He grinned at her, amused. Then he got on the bed.
She pulled down his shorts, biting her lip at the sight of his cock. Six inches, but thick, and straight as a rod. She took it in her right hand. Her left hand curled into his chest hair, the tips flicked his nipples.
He took her by the chin and pulled her in for a kiss. He raised his leg between hers and she obediently slid her wet pussy up and down his thigh. Then she got her head back in the game.
She started working his thick dick with firm practiced stroked. She slid off his leg with a little whimper and dropped down to her knees. She opened her mouth wide, slid her hand down pulling open his uncircumcised head and took Mike’s throbbing sex in her mouth.
She didn’t hate oral sex. She loved receiving it and usually didn’t mind giving it. Tonight she loved it. Her mouth practically sizzled with sensation as he spread her lips, slid against the roof of her mouth, and dipped past her uvula.
Carol grasped Mike’s balls in one hand squeezing them just enough not to hurt him. She gripped his shaft. She took him into her mouth all the way down to her hand. Then she started bobbing her head, sucking and stroking him with such intensity that all he could do was throw his head back and hiss, “yyyeeessssss!”
He pushed her back just as she felt him start to stiffen. “Wait,” he said sounding completely out of breath.
“Why?” she grinned and licked her lips in what she hoped was a wicked way.
“I want to be inside you,” he’d found his voice and remembered that he was much bigger than her. He pulled her onto his lap then simply rolled over on top of her, his cock pressed against her wet pussy, his hands pinned hers to the bed.
“Then take me,” Carol rolled her hips causing his tip to dip inside her.
“Ask nicely,” this time it was Mike who had the wicked grin on his face.
“Please fuck me, Mike. Take me hard, make me scream, make me cum all over that pussy stretcher of yours.”
Mike didn’t even blink an eye at the words coming out of Carol. He just grabbed her hips and thrust deep inside her. She moaned with pleasure and grabbed his back. Her nails pressed into his skin as his cock spread her pussy wide open.
It was at that moment that she remembered the scratches down her back. At one point as was riding Bruhmilda with the strap she felt the redhead’s nails rake down her back. She couldn’t let Mike see her back. She just…
“Oh god, Mike!” She practically yelped as he lifted her one leg onto his shoulder, placed a thumb on her clit and started riding her like it was the last chance he’d ever get to do it.
As his thumb rolled her clit in tight circles she sighed. For a moment her body went limp, then she moaned in loud fast gasps her chest rising and falling like a sprinter, then she screamed. Her body stiffened, her arms actually spasmed, and she for the second time in one night she came harder than she’d ever cum before.
She wrapped her legs around him, slammed her nails into him, and just awkwardly humped him with her spasming pussy till he couldn’t take it anymore and he came deep inside her.
She didn’t let him roll off her till at least a minute later when his cock had shrunk and her orgasm dissipated.
Half an hour later, with a towel wrapped around her freshly rinsed off body and Mike passed out next to her, her phone buzzed. It was Bruhmilda.
“I feel like we have to talk,” it read.
Carol didn’t know what to say. She knew she had to do the right thing, but by who?
“Let’s meet tomorrow for lunch,” she replied.
Author: Rakishnu
Volleyball Season [F22/F23] [strapon] [ass eating] [light humiliation]
Carol Lane leapt through the air. Her tall skinny form made a perfect arch, her small breasts strained against her tight shirt, her feet pointed behind her, her hand stretched high. Then she snapped her body forward like a whip. Her hand struck the volleyball popped her way perfectly. It sang as it torpedoed through the air, over the net, only to be stopped dead in its tracks and drop down to her side of the court with a disappointing dut dut dut. The whistle to end the game followed shortly after.
Carol’s feet touched ground and she stumbled forward, right into a familiar form that was already ducking under the net. Bruhmilda Abrahams was the captain of the Lady Hawks, an all girls volleyball club and current league favorites. She had a thick bush of curly red hair that she never bothered to tie up despite the fact that it bounced all around her face during a game, long shapely legs, muscular arms, and a rack that every athletically built girl could only dream of. She was also Carol’s biggest rival on the court.
The Kitchen Floor F/M married 30+
They didn’t flirt. They didn’t need to. They didn’t tease or pretend or dress up in uncomfortable clothes over awkward conversations in dimly lit spaces. Why would they? They knew each other, deeply, inside and out.
He rested his hand on the small of her back, lifted her hair and kissed her neck where her spine disappeared into her hairline. His other hand slipped around her waist and he pulled her into him.
She arched her back, her cheeks pressing against his crotch, her head resting on his shoulder, her own crotch willing his hand to go lower as her hand did just that and wrapped around his throbbing cock.
There was no preamble, no tiptoe, no falter. There was only him, and her, and the fact that they wanted each other.
She was still dressed. Jeans, t-shirt, an apron. She’d been cooking when he accosted her.
He had just gotten out of the shower. His towel was already on the floor as he undid her jeans and pulled the shirt and apron over head in one swift movement. He could be smooth if he needed to be.