by Katie Ford
“Brandon Yates?” I asked. “The tight end? Are you guys still friends?”
“Sure are.” He laughed. “He’s engaged now, so I don’t see him all that much. But he’s a good dude. He can’t make it unfortunately.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “So your friends can’t make it ….”
Trace nodded, blue eyes gleaming.
“I don’t wanna, like, creep you out or anything,” he drawled. “But I’d still be down to hang with you if you are. Just saying.”
My smile was shy but immediate.
“Sure, why not?” was my reply. “We’ll have fun.”
Slowly, we walked further into the house. It was a spacious home with lots of furnishings and pictures strewn about. I pretended to look around, complimenting the interior décor, but my mind was only on Trace.
Because back in high school, I would have loved to date Trace Perry. But back then, I hadn’t found myself yet. I was too shy, was afraid guys wouldn’t like me, and to top it off, I was a virgin for all four years. Meanwhile, he was always kind of a player, going from girl to girl, sowing wild oats like crazy. It would never have worked out with us back then.
But this time, it was all different, and I was ready to see what would come of it.
“Your photos all came out beautifully,” Trace called from the kitchen as he got out two wine glasses.
“That’s good to hear,” was my murmur. “I still can’t believe you’re this big, fancy photographer now. Have you shot any celebrities?”
He grinned, serving two generous pours of red wine. “A few. I don’t like to brag.”
“You can brag a little, I’m giving you permission,” I teased.
“Ah, maybe I’ll tell you who a little later.”
He handed me my glass, and we clinked, our eye contact electric.
“I mostly shoot other models,” he finally said. “Fashion is what pays the bills well.”
I nodded. That made sense. You can’t make a living by art alone, there’s definitely a commercial aspect to this business.
“So are you happy to be here from LA? Where do you live in LA actually?”
He nodded.
“Yeah, it’s good to be back and see all my old buddies. I have a house in Culver City,” he told me. “It’s pretty nice. It’s only about three miles away from the beach. It’s a good location.”
I laughed again.
“You know, back in high school, I was so sure that you were going to go off and become a football star,” was my confession as I sipped on my wine.
“Yeah, I think everyone was,” he said wryly. “Especially my parents. They had it all figured out. High school football, college football, and then the N.F.L. And yet, I didn’t play at all after high school. Sometimes, I still wonder what would’ve happened if I’d actually gone that route.”
My nod was quick.
“So photography turned out to be your passion?”
“It did,” he said. But then he turned the tables on me. “I have to say, I would never have pegged you to become a model when I knew you in school. No offense.”
“None taken,” was my sincere reply. “No one told me to consider modeling until college. That’s when I started being completely me.”
There was a pregnant silence.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked finally, blue eyes intense.
“I do not,” I assured. “Do you have a girlfriend at your beach house, Mr. Rich Man?” was my arch retort.
“I don’t have a girlfriend or a beach house,” he laughed. “And I wouldn’t consider myself rich. I’d accept ‘wealthy.’ Rich just makes me sound like an asshole.”
“You would’ve been rich if you ended up playing for the Dolphins,” I joked with a wink.
“Yeah, my parents were extremely pissed that I didn’t go into football,” he said reflectively. “I think they were building me up to be a Dolphins quarterback. But I was burned out, doing this sport ever since I was six. I just couldn’t lie to myself anymore. It wasn’t me.”
“Aww, I think I saw your mom in the stands a couple times. She looked sweet.”
Trace nodded ruefully.
“I love my parents, but we don’t exactly get along all that well,” he finished. “Sorry, Lila. I don’t think I ever met your parents,” he apologized.
“You probably wouldn’t have,” I said. “My parents got divorced when I was in middle school, and neither of them were around much. I always went home on the bus. Pretty much a latchkey kid.”
We both eventually finished up our glasses, and Trace poured us a second serving. I could feel my face flushing, everything getting warmer by the minute.
“Lila, you know you’re beautiful right?” he rasped, taking another sip while holding my gaze over the rim of the wine glass.
“I do,” was my giggled reply. “But so are you. I have to admit, I really used to want to know what it would be like to kiss you. I daydreamed in class about it all the time.”
Trace leaned forwards, that massive form suddenly in my personal space.
“You could find out that answer right now, if you’d like,” he suggested.
And suddenly, we were doing it. He leaned into me and captured my lips with his own. For the first few moments, I was just processing what was happening. Oh my god! I was making out with the Trace Perry, football player extraordinaire. But then the kiss took over and I fell head over heels into pure sensuality.
Because this man was magnificent. I touched him all over that massive frame, impressed with how his muscles bulged, they were so solid. And I loved the way that he was touching my back and running his hands down my jeans, feeling around my backside.
Once I could pry myself away from his lips, I knew what I needed next.
“Where’s your bedroom?” was my pant.
He grinned knowingly before pulling me up the stairs and into a darkened space. Oh god, yes. He sat down immediately on a giant bed, pulling me down with him, but I resisted.
“I want to do a sexy striptease for you,” was my purr.
Silence for a moment, before Trace growled.
“Well, I’m not going to say no to that.”
And smiling to myself, I turned around, dropping low to the floor while easing my pants slowly down my legs. My lacey black thong came into view, eliciting a low growl of approval. I swayed around, dancing to no beat in particular, just the tune in my head. With my exposed back to him, I tossed away my shirt, revealing big, lush boobies. Because there was no bra.
Slowly, I turned around, showing him my naked breasts and the slight pooch to my stomach. He looked like he was hypnotized and barely able to breathe, a massive tent at his crotch.
“What are you thinking, Trace?” I cooed. “Like what you see?”
Chapter 4
Trace
I couldn’t stop staring at Lila’s amazing body. Sure, during the shoot, I’d seen her dressed. But that didn’t compare to now. The brunette was lush and gorgeous with huge, bouncy tits and a tiny thong that had me aching. Plus, there was a wet spot at her crotch, the evidence of her arousal.
“I want you so badly,” I told her.
“Come and get it,” she cooed.
And like an animal, I was on her in a flash. I kissed every sweet spot of skin, inching off her thong to reveal that pretty puss. Oh fuck. She was drenched, her folds gleaming, pink and exposed.
“Take me,” she moaned, leaning back and spreading her legs. “Oh god, I can’t wait anymore.”
“Your wish is my command, sweetheart,” was my answering growl. But not so fast because I was huge, and she was small. It actually took me several minutes to penetrate her sweet pussy, easing my way inside.
“Unnh, Trace,” she moaned, throwing her head back. “Yeah, just like that.”
The female was so tiny. Her pussy was slick, which made things easier, but still, it took patience. Finally, I was in all the way, her sweet wetness accepting my massive shaft.
And with that,
it was on. I was on top, thrusting in and out of Lila desperately, pinning down those sweet curves as she mewled. I could feel her walls expanding with each thrust, the stretch delicious.
And soon, Lila began to moan loudly from out of nowhere, her head thrashing back and forth. I nearly gave in then, but it was too soon. I didn’t want it to end so fast.
“Grab onto the headboard,” was my rough command.
She obeyed, knowing exactly what I wanted. The brunette got up onto her knees, grabbing onto the wooden frame to hold herself steady, presenting that beautiful backside my way. And with no hesitation whatsoever, I pushed my throbbing cock into her tight hole.
“Unnnh!” she cried out, head tilted back with her eyes closed in ecstasy. “Oh god!”
But that wasn’t the end. After giving her a few good, deep strokes, I flipped her over to her back, pinning her arms over her head.
“Yes, more!” she cried. “Take me!”
And inspiration struck then. I put my hand on her throat and give a light squeeze. It wasn’t much. I didn’t go hard, but she gasped and shuddered with pleasure, her pussy clenching down on my cock spastically.
“Yes,” she managed. “Yes, yes.”
I could tell Lila wasn’t saying that to stroke my ego. This woman really wanted it, and her cunt dissolved in waves as I fucked that tight hole, the female screaming my name in ecstasy. But I didn’t want things to end, keeping myself in check. Shit, it was just too good.
When I did finally cum inside of her, I’d built myself up to a level that was almost painful.
“Fuck!” was my conquering roar. “Shit shit shit!”
Because Lila was bent over like a rag doll at the moment, her face pressed into the mattress, ass up in the air. I pummeled that sweet hole repeatedly, her curvy white flesh trembling as she received me again and again.
“Yes,” she cried out as well. “Now!”
And finally, my cum burst into her pink channel, each spasm of her pussy pulling my semen deeper into that fertile form. Because oh shit, it felt so good … and even more incredibly, it felt right.
But when I woke the next morning, there was a note on one of my pillows. I was surprised to be waking up to emptiness frankly, and not the beautiful, naked body of Lila Grant.
Trace,
Thank you so much for last night. I had a great time with you.
I’ll see you at ten! Don’t be late.
Lila
I’d never had a woman sneak out on me like that before. On the one hand, I liked how Lila had removed a lot of post-sex pressure. It can be awkward sometimes, especially when you’ve only known the other person for a day.
On the other hand, I was bothered that she left without saying anything. Part of the reason for her silent departure was likely because she knew we’d be seeing each other later that day. But still. What was up?
Shaking my head, I forced myself to get up. I was putting way more thought into this girl than normal. Shutting off my brain, I headed over to the studio.
We were shooting outdoors on the beach, several miles away from large groups of people. Since it was the weekend, there were a larger number of people milling around than expected, but we weren’t going to be put out.
Lila was already at the shooting spot, ready to go. All Emerson and I had to do was get the lights and props ready.
“Hey there,” I growled.
“Good morning, handsome,” she replied cheerily.
“Didn’t expect you to run off like that,” I said. “I could’ve given you a ride over. It’s no trouble.”
“I never stay the night,” she stated. “It’s kind of a rule for me.”
“Oh,” I said, baffled. “Really?”
“What, you’ve never hooked up with a girl then left during the night?” she asked archly.
“Well, sure, I have,” I stammered. “But you… I didn’t expect you to be so provocative.”
“Provocative?” The female laughed. “What’s so provocative about that?”
“Not that it’s super provocative or anything,” I said. “It’s just that I never looked at you as being the sassy type. You were such a nerd in high school.”
She shot me a wide smile. I immediately felt bad.
“I didn’t mean that—”
“It’s okay, Trace,” she said reassuringly. “I was a nerd back in high school. I know that. Things change, that’s all.”
“You’re right,” I agreed. “You ready to get to work?”
The brunette was more than ready. And she was better prepared than I was.
Because I was still in bed, even if only mentally. As I took Lila’s pictures in the sand and by the water, I thought of our tryst and how easy it’d been for us to come together.
It’d been so hot last night, the female stimulating in every way. Plus even now, she allowed me to be the dominant one, ordering her to assume one pose after another. I really appreciated that, and it turned me on.
We shot all morning, took a break for almost two hours during the start of the afternoon, and then continued shooting until sunset. It was a long day, but Lila was a professional. The brunette also allowed us to try some impromptu ideas that we hadn’t planned before, since the sunset was particularly stunning that evening. She was quickly becoming my favorite girl to photograph.
We got through the session, and she was packed up and ready to go back to her car in minutes. Neither of us were really sure how to approach our farewells. I decided to be assertive and make the first move.
I went up to her while Emerson finished dismantling the light equipment.
“Since we’re done, I was wondering if you’d like to go out and have dinner with me tonight,” was my statement.
She smiled, eyes dancing.
“Thanks Trace. I would love to.”
My heart leapt then. Holy cow, this girl had me entranced ... and yet I’d only known her for one day.
Chapter 5
Lila
When Trace and I were finally seated at our table, we started teasing each other immediately and misbehaving in general. We sat close together at the banquette, looking at the menu, while clearly, our trains of thought were traveling down the same tracks.
For example, his foot would touch mine under the table, and then I’d nudge his leg. Then our feet would rest on the other’s lap. It didn’t take long for our wandering hands to go far.
I was wearing a sundress, and frankly, his right hand was traveling so far up into it that I feared he might bring me to orgasm right in the restaurant. It didn’t help that our server was taking his sweet time to do anything for us. The longer we sat and waited, the more often our hands gravitated toward each other’s hottest spots.
Eventually, our waiter came and asked us if we were ready to eat. Trace and I exchanged knowing looks. Thankfully, he knew exactly what I was thinking.
“Tell me,” Trace commanded the server. “How long would it take to pack up everything to go?”
“Just five minutes,” he replied, flabbergasted. “But the food hasn’t been served yet.”
Trace looked back to me. “I don’t want to wait that long,” he rasped.
“Me neither,” I admitted gleefully.
“We’ll just take the food to go,” Trace announced before taking my hand and escorting me out of the restaurant. “Send it over to this address,” he added, informing the poor guy.
And with that, we rapidly sped from the restaurant back to the house.
“Are you ready?” Trace asked me, blue eyes gleaming. I smiled at him.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” was my answering reply.
***
Once we got back to the house, we attacked each other immediately. We didn’t even make it back to his bedroom this time. Fortunately, Emerson and his brother were both out partying, so the whole place was ours.
First, Trace started to fuck me on the kitchen table. I was lying on top of it, letting him have his way with me. He was holding onto my legs,
keeping me on the edge. He pushed into me slowly at first, big cock making me moan as his hands wandered over my curves.
“Yes,” I gasped, spreading my legs further. “Just like that.”
His speed picked up once his hands found their way up to my neck. And just like before, the man began to choke me lightly. At first, I was worried about how rough he was going to be. But Trace was perfect, allowing me just enough air to heighten the sensations. I was becoming so turned on that I was afraid I might pass out while he finished with me.
But Trace is a master. When he could feel me getting close to the edge, he pulled his dick out from me and ushered me to come toward him off the table. Once I was standing, he bent me over on the table and began to spank my big bottom. Shamefully, each time a smack rained down, I could feel myself growing wetter.
“Are you punishing me?” was my whisper.
“Oh, I am.” He laughed. “It’s because you were rude to me.”
He smacked my ass again, rubbing my wet pussy with his fingers in between belts.
I mewled in pleasure, desperately wanting his dick again.
“You left my bed without a word this morning,” he continued. “I don’t appreciate you just going away from me like that.”
“I left you a note,” was my breathy gasp. But Trace didn’t care.
He continued to spank me repeatedly, moving from cheek to cheek as his other hand toyed with my sex. Two fingers pushed inside my warm channel while his thumb focused on my clit. When he reached a peak point in his spanking, he simply grabbed onto my ass with that hand, and he started to curl his fingers properly inside of me.
“That’s it, don’t stop!” I begged as he rubbed my G-spot, dissolving into a wreck of spasms.
He stroked my clit until I clutched his arm, ensuring that his hand would stay just so until my orgasm was complete. I moaned loudly like a hungry whore. Trace really liked that.