by Gina Watson
The city had graded the area around Pease Bayou, which ran for miles. Using the money the David family had donated for the sole purpose of outfitting the city with a running track, the bayou had several crossover areas that could extend a jogger’s mileage from three miles to over fifteen miles. Most days Max ran a large rectangle that logged him at about eight miles. He could run the circuit in just under an hour. He’d been faster in high school, but he had to admit he wasn’t really pushing himself. He only sought to clear his mind and stay conditioned.
As he ran, he nodded politely to the usual diehards he met regularly on the dirt and gravel path. He searched for the blonde, but she didn’t seem to be on the track today and wasn’t that a shame. She had a great running stride and he would be willing to bet money she’d keep pace with him. Whenever he got the chance, he ran a little behind her and to the left. The effect was spectacular—her full breasts bounced with every foot strike and her entire chest heaved as she sought more oxygen. Watching her tight, full ass absorb the impact was as close to heaven as he’d ever get. He hated to admit, but he was extremely disappointed at not finding her out in he early morning southern Louisiana air.
At three minutes to seven, Max was jogging back onto his property. He hit the kitchen and grabbed a Greek yogurt, blueberries, honey, and granola. To the white Raynaud Cristobal porcelain bowl he added equal amounts of yogurt and blueberries, topping it with a tablespoon of honey and granola. He carried the concoction up the stairs and to his bedroom.
With the spoon in his mouth he froze.
“Hello Max.”
At the sultry, come hither voice, Max swallowed the yogurt in his mouth. “Madeline.”
“I’m sitting for Gabe, but he’s mixing colors so I had to find something to occupy my time while I wait.”
Max cocked a brow at her innuendo. This could work. Actually, he was already hard as stone as he watched her pull the white plush robe apart and let it fall to the floor.
He sat with his hip against the dresser and continued to eat his yogurt. Madeline turned, displaying her backside to him. She turned her head to look back over her shoulder at him. “What do you think, Max?”
“Bend over.” She complied. “Open yourself so that I can see your cunt.” She reached her hands to her ass and spread her cheeks apart. He groaned low in the back of his throat. She was a thorough waxer he’d give her that. Madeline started to rise, “No. Stay like that until I tell you otherwise.”
He ate slowly enjoying the taste of the exotic clover honey and the quiver of her exposed, wet cunt. Madeline liked to fuck—hard. She knew from experience that he did too.
When he finished his breakfast he divested himself of his sweaty shirt. He then walked to the corner of the room and lowered himself onto the ottoman of his black Herman Miller lounge chair. He unlaced his new trainers and removed them, taking his time to pull the tongue and stuff the laces into each shoe. Standing, he removed his athletic shorts and underwear. Naked, he grasped the ottoman firmly in his hands and carried it over to Madeline who still assumed the position. He set the ottoman in front of her. “You’re going to need this.” She understood his meaning and propped herself up with the help of the ottoman.
He grabbed a condom from the drawer in his nightstand, rolled it on, and then walked around behind her and gave her exposed ass a hard slap. “I’m running a tad behind schedule due to your unsolicited visit so this is going to be hard and fast, and solely for my enjoyment.”
She moaned and then he slammed his hard cock into her. Oh yeah—this is exactly what he needed to round out his morning routine. He slammed her repeatedly with thrusts so hard it had the heavy ottoman inching across the floor. Madeline’s screams were loud and guttural. His own grunts were feral and animalistic. He used her body wholly for his own pleasure. He lifted her leg, placing it on the ottoman so that he could go deeper and harder. The sounds of their skin slapping and wetness filled the air. By the time the chair had made it across the room, he was coming with the force of a freight train, his roar loud as fuck.
He immediately pulled from her and removed the condom. He walked to the bathroom and flushed the rubber down the toilet and dialed up his shower to heat to a perfect ninety-nine degrees. Back in his bedroom he gathered his sweaty running clothes. Madeline stood nude, watching him. He needed her to go so that he could focus on his upcoming day. He picked her robe up from the floor and held it out to her. “Thank you, Madeline.”
“I was hoping to have a shower with you.”
“Did you not hear me when I said you unscheduled visit put me behind?” He pulled fresh underwear and socks from a drawer and set them out on the bed.
“I heard. You’re taking a shower anyway I just figured I could join you.”
“Not now.” In his closet he pulled a dark blue, Hugo Boss suit from the rack.
“I’d like to see you tonight, Max.”
He carried the suit from his closet and hung it on his valet. “Maddy, with the exception of an occasional fuck, I’m not interested in pursuing anything between us. Have I ever let on that I was?”
“No, but”—
“No buts Madeline. Go down and meet Gabe. I’m sure he’s ready for you by now.”
She ran from his room. What the hell had gotten into her? He’d lost count at the number of times she’d offered herself up to him, but they’d always fucked and then gone their separate ways. Now she desired more from him? She’d just gone and ended the only thing they’d ever shared—sex. He’d get no more from her. Once a woman started to get possessive it was time to let them go.
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