by M. F. Wild
Then he began pushing in, short breathless thrusts that joined us together a little more each time. His gaze was riveted where his cock was stretching me. A series of absent “fucks” left his lips as he buried himself deeper inside my wet pussy. I was so intent on his experience that I nearly forgot my own until he shoved home with his last thrust.
My eyes went wide, and I grabbed his toned arms to brace myself against the abrupt invasion.
He stilled. “Shit. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Do that again.”
After a tense second he thrust again, this time with more care.
“Harder,” I begged.
His jaw clamped tight, and he grabbed my hips before lunging hard.
I groaned and my eyes rolled back. Paul was big, and long, and he felt fucking amazing. “Yeah,” I moaned, swiveling my hips against his. “Just like that.”
I heard him exhale, and then his body was hot against mine and his cock was impaling me with hard steady thrusts. They were like his passionate kisses. His hot stare. Everything about Paul was intense.
So intense that I was coming violently in a matter of seconds. It was my turn to curse into the air, my nails digging into his hips as he drove into me with abandon. Tension and determination went to war on his features. He wanted to make this last. God love him for that.
After my first orgasm faded out, I pushed him onto his back and straddled him. While I rode him, dropping down so he filled me completely and hit that magic spot inside me over and over again, he used his new position to touch me everywhere. He pinched my nipples. Caressed my skin. Toyed with my clit until I was ready to come again.
I moaned his name as he brought me down on his cock over and over.
“Clare, fuck, I’m coming.”
“Come,” I whimpered. “Come for me, Paul. God, it feels so good.”
His eyes closed, and he punched his hips up fiercely.
“Fuck me, Paul. I want to come hard with you.” I bit my lip, knowing that my dirty words would do him in the way his enormous cock was doing me in. I cried out as the orgasm ripped through me.
He sat up so he could hold me tight, chest to chest, and thrust one last time with a grunt and his lips against my neck.
“Fucking amazing,” he groaned.
The tension left his muscles and we melted into the sheets together, sated, and hopefully, still very good friends.
* * *
Midnight passed, but sleep evaded me. As Paul slumbered beside me, my phone rang with a text from Eric. I picked it up and read his message.
Miss you.
My heart twisted.
Miss you more.
Then…
Are you having fun?
I hesitated, not knowing if this was the best time to answer him. But if I didn’t, he’d worry more.
Yes
A moment went by that felt like eternity. My heart raced, and I worried that maybe I’d made the wrong decision with Paul.
Are you falling in love?
I sighed and tapped out my reply quickly.
Only with you. Been that way every day for as long as I can remember.
Then…
Good. See you in a few days, beautiful Clare.
I closed my eyes and put the phone down. I turned against Paul’s warm body and let sleep finally take me.
Chapter Eight
Eric
“Give me back my phone, you little shit!”
I chased my little brother down the stairs that led into our kitchen. The nosy fucker had swiped it off my nightstand while I was in the shower. When I walked back into my room, he was sitting on the foot of my bed reading through all my text messages. God only knows what he’d seen before I caught him. He must have been looking over my shoulder earlier when I entered my passcode.
“Hayden, give your brother back his phone this instant,” my mother scolded.
Even though he gave me back my phone, the devious look in his eyes told me he wasn’t letting this go. At twelve years old, he was already a goddamn monster.
“Eric’s got a girlfriend!” he sang throughout the kitchen.
In unison, both my parents’ heads shot up with wide-eyed stares.
“When did this happen? Did you meet someone at school? What’s her name?” My mom’s questions were coming at me like the rapid fire of a machine gun.
“Jesus, Mom!”
“Her name’s Clare Winston,” Hayden announced from across the room.
Narrowing my eyes, I shot him a death glare. The little fucker better not close his eyes while I was home on break. He was definitely losing both his eyebrows when I got a hold of him.
“Winston? That name sounds familiar. Where’s she from?” My dad laid his newspaper down and adjusted his glasses.
Great. Now he was getting in on the interrogation.
I cleared my throat and decided to dive in. “She’s from Ridgeville. We went to high school together.”
“Eric Alexander Hayward! Just when exactly were you planning on telling us about her?”
I rolled my eyes. “Mom, Clare and I aren’t officially a couple or anything. We just like to hang out and stuff.”
“Yeah, stuff.” Hayden held his stomach as he laughed.
I glared at him. Brother or not, the kid was losing a limb.
My mom’s face lit up with excitement. “Oh, honey, I have an idea. Why don’t you invite her over for dinner tonight? Your father and I would love to meet her.”
I rubbed my neck. “Yeah, um…maybe next time. Clare’s dad isn’t home very much, so she stayed at campus for break.”
My mom’s face fell. “Oh, that’s such a shame. I hate that she’s alone for Thanksgiving. That’s got to be awfully lonely.”
“Yeah, I suppose. Some other students were also staying over break, so she won’t be alone.” It gave me comfort knowing that Kitty and Todd would keep her company. The muscles in my body immediately tensed when I thought about who else in that group would be spending time with her…alone.
Fucking Paul.
I gritted my teeth. Just thinking about that guy being near her made my blood boil. She spent more time with him than anyone, and I hated it. Clare had to be blind not to see how badly he wanted her. I could see it in his eyes every time I caught him walking her home after class. The fact she considered him one of her best friends didn’t make that any easier.
Maybe she didn’t see him as a threat, but I sure as hell did. As long as Clark Kent kept his hands off her, he’d live to see another day.
“Eric, I don’t want that poor girl staying there for Christmas. Do you understand? Drag her home with you, if you have to. She’s welcome to spend the holidays with us.”
I pushed thoughts of Paul away and chuckled at how worked up my mom was getting. “I will, Mom.”
The idea of Clare sitting around the tree with our family on Christmas morning absolutely thrilled me. Then again, everything about Clare Winston thrilled me.
I’d been teasing her to not fall for someone else while I was gone. But the truth was, I had fallen head over heels in love with her a long time ago. I just didn’t know how to come out and tell her, especially since I’d been the one to urge her to explore her options.
A loud horn blared outside, causing my dad to let out a loud curse.
“That’s Travis.” I yanked a sweatshirt over my head. “Coach Parton’s supposed to let us onto the high school field so we can throw the ball around for a while.”
“Just don’t be late for dinner. I’m making your favorite lasagna. Tell Travis he’s welcome to join us.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I gave my mom a kiss on the cheek and headed out the door, eager to get my feet back on my home field.
* * *
Sweat stung my eyes as I waited for Travis’s tall figure to get to the right position. When he neared the right spot and looked my way, I extended my arm and launched a long pass to him. Jumping into the air, he caught the leather ball with perfect ease. I clap
ped my hands in celebration. When it came to playing football, we were a force to be reckoned with, always in sync with each other.
Exhausted from our workout, I waved him in. My right shoulder was killing me, and with training starting back up after break, I didn’t need to overwork it.
“It sure is good seeing you two back on this field,” Coach Parton said as he tossed us each a cold bottle of water.
“It’s good to be back.” I glanced across the stadium, reminiscing. My time at Ridgeville High would always hold a special place in my heart. Who knows, maybe one day I would find myself coaching here.
After finishing off our drinks, Travis and I waited at the gate while Coach P. locked up.
“Listen, why don’t the two of you come over to the house tomorrow and catch the game? We’ve got a seventy-two-inch projection screen downstairs now.”
“Sweet! Count me in,” I said.
Hanging at Coach P.’s house was always a blast. Of course, it didn’t hurt that his wife was also hot as hell. Practically every guy on our team fantasized about her. I knew I certainly had.
Travis cleared his throat. “Sorry, I’ll have to pass. I’ve got plans tomorrow afternoon.”
I snapped my head toward him. “With who? Your fist?” I joked. This was the first I’d heard about any plans. If he was blowing off watching football for a girl, it must be serious.
Travis threw his bag at me, a hint of embarrassment filling his face. “No, asshole. If you must know, I’m going to the movies with Tori.”
Although my best friend would never come out and admit it, he’d had a thing for Tori Belman since we were freshmen in high school. Travis could snap his fingers and make just about any girl drop their panties for him. But, for some reason, he didn’t seem to want that from Tori. If I didn’t know better, I might think he was in love with her. I could tease him about it, but it wasn’t like I had any room to talk. My heart completely belonged to Clare, and I damn well knew it.
“All right then, it looks like it’ll just be you and me, Coach.”
* * *
“Touchdown, baby! Whooo!” I high-fived Coach Parton and scooted toward the edge of my seat, watching the replay of the quarterback’s throw.
He took a swig of his beer and pointed to the screen in front of us. “I predict that’ll be you in five years.”
“Me?” I snorted, nearly choking on my drink. “I don’t know about that.”
“I’m serious, son. You have a huge future in front of you. With your record this year, I wouldn’t be surprised if scouts started approaching you pretty soon. They started on me my sophomore year.” He absentmindedly rubbed his knee. A motorcycle accident his senior year of college had robbed him of a career in football. The disappointment was still evident in his eyes.
“Hey, guys. I’m sorry to interrupt.”
I’d been so engrossed with the game that I hadn’t noticed his wife come downstairs.
Coach P. lifted up the remote and hit the mute button. “It’s fine, baby. What’s up?”
Smiling, she turned her attention toward me. “Eric, I was wondering if you could come help me upstairs in the kitchen. I’m having trouble reaching something in one of our cabinets.”
She and I were basically the same height, but I shrugged and stood. “Sure.”
I set my cup on the table and followed her out of the room. Grabbing the handrail, I paused at the foot of the stairs and peered up, unable to ignore the view of her ass as she sauntered up the steep set of stairs.
Goddamn. Coach P. was one lucky son of a bitch.
Once we were in the kitchen she moved in front of the long row of cabinets. My eyes zoned in on the rising hem of her short dress as she stood tiptoe. She pointed at the top shelf.
“It’s that one, right there.”
Just as I stepped behind her, she pushed her ass back against me, rotating her hips until I could feel my cock hardening. Shocked by her forwardness, I jumped back and away.
“What are you doing?”
A playful grin spread across her beautiful face. “Oh, come on, Eric. I was just having a little fun.” She reached for the hem of my T-shirt, tugging me closer to her. I gasped when her other hand dropped to cup my erection.
“W-We can’t do this.”
“Why not?” she whispered across my lips.
Placing my hands on her shoulders, I pushed her to the side.
“Because, it’s wrong, that’s why. You’re my coach’s wife, for fuck’s sake.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Do you honestly think Stephen doesn’t know what we’re doing up here?” She pointed up to the corner of the room where a tiny black camera was positioned in the ceiling. “Wave. He’s watching us.”
Staring up at the camera, I thought back to that day in Coach P.’s office when he’d walked in on me and Clare and didn’t stop us. Beyond that, he’d encouraged Travis to join in, a decision I had probably spent too much time thinking about now that I was in love with Clare.
Now it all made perfect sense though. Coach Parton was a freak.
“I’ve got a little confession to make.” Mrs. Parton teased her fingertips across my abdomen, just above the elastic waistband of my pants. “I’ve wanted you since the night you threw that winning touchdown.” Her hand slid beneath the band, slowly inching downward. “You were dripping with sweat, so high on your win.”
I let out a ragged breath when her hand wrapped around my thick girth and stroked me up and down.
“Those tight white pants were hugging your perfect ass. Right then and there, I imagined what you would taste like, how you would feel inside me.” Releasing me, she eased her body down to the tile floor, tugging my pants down along with her. When my dick sprang free, her face lit up with excitement. “Mmm. Look at that beautiful cock.” She eagerly licked her lips as she wrapped her hand around the base of my shaft and pumped up and down. “I always knew you’d be big.”
Her strokes grew stronger, faster. It felt so good that I had to grip the sides of the countertop to support myself.
“You’ve. Got. To. Stop.” I panted through each word.
Dropping her head, she licked her way up my length, pausing at my tip to flick her tongue across the head of my cock. My body shook from the pleasure. Mrs. Parton looked up at me through hooded eyes.
“Be honest with me, Eric. Do you really want me to stop?”
Fuck no.
Just as I started to answer, she stole every rational thought I had by taking my entire length into her mouth.
“Holy fucking shit,” I growled. She adjusted her position, taking me even deeper, until the tip of my cock hit the back of her throat. I dropped my head back, savoring the feel of her hot velvet mouth as my dick slid back and forth between her lips. Each slide brought me closer and closer to blowing my load in her mouth.
“Whoa. Stop,” I said.
A loud pop echoed across the kitchen as she broke the tight seal around my cock. I sank back against the counter and tried to catch my breath.
Wearing a wide, satisfied grin, Mrs. Parton hoisted herself up onto the counter across from me, and then slowly spread her legs. She traced her fingertips over the thin piece of material that covered her pussy.
“Have you ever been with an older woman, Eric?” She tugged the material to the side, circling her fingers into the moisture of her folds.
I licked my lips and shook my head.
“No.”
“Then, you’ve been missing out.”
She tugged the jersey dress over her head, revealing a skimpy red bra and panties. Instantly, my eyes heated with desire, devouring every inch as they roamed her glorious body. Even at thirty-eight, Mrs. Parton could put any swimsuit model to shame.
She grabbed my hand and brought it to her opening. I moaned when I felt the heat of her soaked cunt.
“Mmm, that’s right. Feel how wet I am for you.”
I shoved two fingers into her and groaned when her eyes flared with desire. “D
oes this greedy little pussy want me?”
“God, yes! Fuck me, Eric. Show me what that young cock can do. Make me scream.”
Retrieving my fingers, I glanced down at the beautiful ripe pussy in front of me and swallowed hard. She would be different than any other woman I’d been with. She was someone who knew exactly what she wanted and what it took to get it. How could I pass up the chance to see how it would be with someone with this much sexual experience and confidence?
Before I could blink, she was ripping a condom wrapper with her teeth. I took a deep breath, savoring the feel of her hand as she rolled the latex down my length.
In one swift move, I scooped an arm beneath each of her knees and lifted her up into position. As I thrusted my pelvis forward, my long cock disappeared inch by inch between the lips of her pussy. The searing heat of her inner walls penetrated through the thin layer of latex, unraveling my control. My steady movements grew wild and feral.
Without pulling myself out, I slid my hands beneath her, cupping her ass as I lifted her up off the counter. We didn’t miss a beat. I bounced her up and down on my length, her cunt squeezing against my forceful thrusts. The death grip she had around my cock told me she was close.
“God, you’re so fucking big. I’m going to come!” Shuddering, she stilled to ride out her orgasm.
I was relentless, pumping myself in and out of her pussy, determined to give her what she wanted.
“You wanted to scream my name? Then, fucking scream it,” I growled, slamming her back against the wall behind her, inadvertently knocking a picture onto the floor.
“Oh. My. God. Eric! Yes! Give it to me harder!”
I let out a loud growl, ramming into her body like some wild beast. She crashed her lips to mine, plunging her tongue into my mouth as her hands dug into my hair. The heaviness in my balls was too much for me to hold back.
I pulled out of her, yanked off the condom, and fisted my cock in my hand.
Mrs. Parton dropped to her knees in front of me. Looking up at me, she opened her mouth, inviting my come.