(CW: some very mild consensual non-consent play later on; don’t want it to sneak up on anyone)
Hannah arched her back as my palm collided hard with her plump ass. A blush spread around the tanned flesh and she gasped.
“Harder,” she grunted, pushing back onto my cock. Her muscular thighs powered her wet hole along my shaft. “You can do it harder. I can take it.”
I raised my hand once more and she let out a yelp, butt bouncing into the spank.
~
How did I end up fucking my Crossfit coach on the floor of her box late one evening after a personal training session? Glad you asked.
I’ve never been a particularly athletic guy, which suddenly strikes me as a strange thing to say, since I was an athlete in high school—but only barely. I wrestled all four years, but I was never any good at it. I loved wrestling, but I was always, easily, the most out of shape guy on the team. Even some of the flabbier guys didn’t get winded like I did. I stuck with it, though, because it was fun, I liked the guys on the team, and it was good exercise, which meant I could eat as much as I wanted and knock back beers in my dad’s basement on the weekend without looking totally awful. It also gave me decent cover during the years I was pretending I wasn’t a complete and total nerd, but that’s another story.