SCORE (A Stepbrother Sports Romance)(84)
He took a sip from his drink and recoiled at the taste. It was not a good scotch. “I know what you’re saying,” he said, putting his glass down on the table with a slow, deliberate movement. “I promise I feel the same way. I’ve never been able to commit to a relationship either. But I’m a few years older than you, so I’ve had much more practice at not committing. I think I can handle a little more.”
A loud “Ha!” popped out of my mouth. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard a line like that, only for the guy to whine six months later that I won’t move in?” I actually sounded quite resentful. In my mind, I looked like my mother during a screaming match with my father. He must have made her so angry and so miserable at the same time. “And,” I continued, talking over whatever he was about to say, “like I could commit to a juvenile racer anyway, someone who earns his living driving around and around in circles, then parties the rest of the time, fucking anyone who’ll agree to have him.”
I didn’t raise my voice, thankfully, but my vitriol surprised us both. James leaned back in his chair, his hands raised in mock surrender. The poor, innocent, needlessly attacked look on his face softened my bitterness.
“I’m sorry, James. I didn’t mean to be so aggressive.” I lowered my face, bit my lip, and looked up at him coyly. “Especially when you were so…nice to me.”
I dropped my shoe and gently ran my foot over his shin and knee. I felt really bad about letting loose on this guy. I did like him, after all, more than I cared to admit. I needed to make it up to him. He knew I was playing with him, but he seemed to like it.
“Well, you’ll be pleased to know,” he said, leaning back and letting me stroke my foot further up his leg. Thank god the table covered our laps. “I don’t race for the money. If I did, I would have been forced to give it up years ago. I pay my own way in racing, using my own money. I don’t answer to anyone, professionally or personally, and that is the way I like it.”
He stumbled over the last word as my foot reached his crotch. I pushed my toes lightly over his package, and I could feel something firm up. I didn’t know why I was touching him. We fucked, it was fantastic, but I didn’t need him anymore. Maybe I did want to be with him one more time. Maybe I felt bad about denying him what he seemed to want really bad right now. I could feel my pussy throb as I imagined him inside me again, but I knew that if I let him, I wouldn’t be able to stop.
“Come with me,” I whispered to him. I stood and walked off, not looking to see if he followed.
***
It was not the most romantic setting, but the handicapped restroom of the facility was clean, unlikely to be needed, and a lot more private than the first place we’d fucked. I heard him follow me in and lock the door. I turned and faced him, looking up into his big blue eyes, and grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer, wrapping my leg around his waist. Our faces were only six inches apart, our bodies pressed hard together, and it felt so right. But I couldn’t have sex with him again. I was afraid if I did, I’d never be able to stop. He was about to lean in and kiss me on the mouth, so I put a finger on his lips.
“No,” I whispered. He looked despondent, so disappointed. I kept my fingers on his mouth and pressed my lips to it. His hands groped my chest, wrinkling my blouse as we almost kissed.
He smelled so strong and masculine as we pressed our lips together, my fingers the only thing keeping us from touching. I pulled my head back and we broke apart. We both wanted more, but I needed to keep him at a distance—which was much easier said than done. He opened the buttons of my blouse, pulling it out of my skirt, and pushed the cups of my bra up over my tits. My breath caught in my throat as his fingers grazed my nipples, instantly hardening them to stiff points.
I lifted my skirt a little, enough to slide my hand under it. I glided a finger over my slippery, wet hole as he kneaded and caressed my breasts. I slipped two fingers easily inside my pussy and pulled them out, wet and glistening. I pulled his face to mine again, my slick fingers between our lips. The smell of my sex, right under our noses, intoxicated us as we almost kissed again. This time, licking at my sticky juices, our tongues occasionally made the lightest of contact.
“Fuck…” He groaned as we pulled apart again. I could feel him hard against me, stiff through his pants, through my underwear, and I was suddenly aware that I’d been grinding my aching pussy against him. I licked his face to suck on his earlobe for a moment. He groaned again.
“No matter how bad I want you inside me, I can’t let you fuck me again. I can’t trust myself if I do,” I whispered.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he breathed back. I spun around and lifted my skirt. I pushed my butt hard against him. I could feel his firm length slide into the space between my buttocks, even through his pants, to rub against the G-string of my underwear. I pulled his hands back onto my eager breasts and ground my ass slowly against his cock.
“We can dream, though,” I gasped. Even clothed, he felt good against my skin. He was hard and hot, and I could feel him throbbing through the material. “Feel your hard cock pushing at my soft, wet pussy lips?” I teased him, rubbing my butt against him harder. “Feel my hot pussy open to take you in?” He twitched against my ass, every movement of his pulling my thong hard against my clit, sending little shivers through my whole body. “Do you feel my warm, willing pussy massaging your stiff rod? My soft, velvet pussy walls enclosing around your big cock, sucking you in deeper?” He groaned again; he pushed his dick hard against my ass, desperate for entry, desperate for release. “How good would it feel to shoot your big load deep inside my aching pussy? Huh, baby? Do it for me…” I kept grinding against him. “Dump your big load in my waiting pussy…” I could feel him twitching more urgently. “Please, fill my eager pussy with your hot spunk…” One more push. “Shoot your cum deep inside me; pour in everything you’ve got…”