Pitch Please

by Lani Lynn Vale

  “Why not?” I inquired.

  “Because I’m barely hanging on here,” he admitted. “You start touching me, and I’ll start forgetting that I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

  My mouth kicked up at the corners as a grin split my face.

  I never thought of myself as sexy, but in this man’s arms, I felt all kinds of beautiful.

  The way he looked at me, the way his big body towered over mine.

  I’d never in my life felt petite before, but in Hancock’s arms, I felt downright small.

  “You’re thinking too hard,” he murmured, making some decision. “Stop thinking so hard.”

  “I can’t help it,” I told him honestly. “I…”

  He shut me up with his mouth, slamming his down onto mine as he curled one large arm around my waist and pulled me in tight to him.

  When he was sure he had a good grip on me, he moved, maneuvering us until I was in front of the large seat that took up the back half of the shower, and then twisted so I was facing it.

  Then, without another word, he shoved me forward, making sure to hold onto my hips as he did.

  I gasped as I instinctively bent over, my hands going to the tile bench as I looked back at him over my shoulder.

  “I want to slam inside of you,” he rasped. “I want to line up with your tight hole, force my way inside and watch as you take me.”

  I blinked.

  “And, why can’t you?” I pushed him.

  That’s when I felt his cock up at my entrance starting to press inside.

  My mouth opened wide the head of his cock started to stretch me.

  I’d, of course, known he was big.

  I’d seen him in boxers. I’d seen him through the jetted waters of the whirlpool. I’d felt him against me. But I’d never really looked at him.

  But it was another thing all together to experience it—to have him pushing inside of me.

  The man was massive.

  Positively huge.

  I was one hundred percent sure that he wasn’t going to fit, and I knew exactly why he said what he said only moments before.

  He literally couldn’t.

  Could he?

  Then he started to slip inside me further, and my eyes widened in surprise, with a little bit of discomfort.

  “You make me forget,” he started to pull backwards.

  But then I pressed against him, letting him know, in no uncertain terms, that I wanted him to continue.

  I wanted to know if I would be able to take all of him. I had to know.

  I had a feeling that this was something he’d always wanted to do and couldn’t. I wanted to be different.

  I wanted to give him something that no one else had ever been able to give him.

  Hancock struck me as a man who could go all night long.

  A man who would make me feel things that I’d never felt before.

  And I wanted to do the same for him.

  If that was taking me like he wanted to take me, then I’d give him that.

  Every damn time and twice on Sunday.

  Sensing my need to please, he started to press forward again, his large cock filling me up so fully that I was panting by the time his hips met my round bottom.

  “Oh, God,” he grated. “This is the best fucking feeling in the world.”

  “Being inside of me?” I panted, my eyes nearly crossed from how full I felt.

  “Yes,” he whispered. “So tight and wet. I’ve never felt anything like this before in my life.”

  I’d never felt it before either. Then again, I’d never once felt anything like this because I’d never had a man inside of me bare. Nor had I ever had sex in the shower. And now that I was thinking about it…there wasn’t much I could say about my limited sexual experience.

  Hancock was literally shattering all kinds of records right now.

  And adding to that list was the near spontaneous orgasm I was on the brink of.

  I’d thought orgasms were a myth—at least the ones from vaginal penetration. The man hadn’t even done much more than stick his large dick inside of me, and I was practically on the verge of coming.

  That had to be some kind of record.

  Then he started to move, and I forgot my own name.

  My hands on the lip of the seat tightened, and I spread my legs wider to accommodate his hips.

  The moment my feet moved, the angle he was entering me changed, and I immediately went from being on the brink of an orgasm to having one.

  The blunt head of his cock hit some magical place so deep inside of me that a silent scream left my lips.

  My breasts began to sway with his movements, and as he felt my orgasm taking hold, he pounded into me faster and harder. My legs started to burn with the effort it took to hold myself up against his thrusts.

  “Oh, God!” I cried out loudly, the scream echoing off the walls, mixing with the wet slap of skin meeting skin.

  His grip on my hips tightened as my pussy clamped down so hard on his cock that there was no way he could mistake my release for anything other than what it was.

  “Oh, fuck,” he groaned tightly as his thrusting became erratic.

  My eyes closed and I did nothing else but feel as the most blissful feeling in the world took me over.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was aware that he was coming, too. My mind, however, was so focused on my own pleasure that I had nothing left in me to pay attention to his.

  By the time I came back to myself, Hancock was curved over the length of my back, one arm looped under my breasts while the other was planted on the bench and supporting our weight.

  Both of us were breathing so hard that it was more than obvious that we were both shaken by what had just transpired.

  “I had no idea that sex was like that,” I admitted breathlessly.

  “It’s not, normally,” he admitted just as breathlessly. “I haven’t lost my breath like that since I was fifteen years old.”

  “You had sex when you were fifteen years old?” I squeaked, incredulity filling my voice.

  “Yep,” he murmured. “I was a lively, growing boy. That, and I was a baseball player with a goatee. I was pretty damn irresistible.”

  My answering snort was what he was looking for, and he pulled out of me carefully before he let me loose, his hands, now gentle on my hips, steadying me.

  “You okay?” he asked, pressing a bearded kiss to the top of my shoulder as I stood.

  I nodded.

  Fan-fucking-tastic was more like it, but I didn’t tell him that, his ego would be just fine without that little boost.

  Instead, I settled on something that was more subdued but definitely got the point across.

  “Better than okay.”

  He hummed in happiness as he grabbed the bar of soap from the soap dish before he quickly rubbed it over his body and then got to work on mine.

  “You’re responsible for this, aren’t you?” I asked, gesturing to my shampoo and body wash.

  His grin was almost boyish as he turned the shower off once he’d deigned I was clean. He took extra special care of my breasts and between my thighs, which inevitably made me ready to go all over again.

  He was all business, though, as he stepped out of the shower and grabbed two towels. He handed one over to me and wrapped the second one around his trim waist. I began to absently towel myself off while my eyes took in his perfectly chiseled frame as water droplets rolled down his tight abs, disappearing into the top of the towel.

  Chapter 14

  If my dog could talk, I’d have no reason to talk to people.

  -Hancock’s secret thoughts

  Sway

  “You’re about to get bent over again.” Hancock’s rumbly voice broke into my perusal.

  I blinked, looking up at him as innocently as I could which caused him to laugh.

  “I saw you,” he informed me. “And in about ten minutes
, I’ll be more than up for whatever you’re willing to do to me.”

  “Me do to you?” I asked in alarm, tugging the towel around my breasts.

  He wouldn’t want me to be on top, would he? Because that would definitely not be cool.

  The one and only time I was ever on top was, of course, with Langston.

  After he complained about my ass pushing his legs uncomfortably into the bed, I’d climbed off, refusing to get on top again.

  Then Langston had to go and mention how my breasts jiggled and my belly squished together.

  Normally—if I was standing—my belly tended to be fairly flat. But bending over causes almost everyone to have belly rolls, and I wasn’t an exception.

  It was apparently a big turn off for Langston because he never tried to have sex with me in that position again.

  Then again, the position itself hadn’t felt all that good, so there was really nothing to complain about. Langston’s cock had been about five inches, fully erect, and even with me on top, I couldn’t feel him like I was thinking I should be able to.

  Hancock, though…well, let’s just say he would probably rip me a new one if I was on top. But the sheer size of his cock was likely going to make that position difficult.

  “What are you thinking about?” Hancock questioned as I followed him out of the bathroom, my mind still swirling with the possibility that he wanted to ask me to be on top.

  He walked straight over to the large bed dominating the big, open room and started to push pillows off.

  Thankful for the change in subject he’d inadvertently offered me, I pounced on it.

  “What are you doing?” I asked as I watched him tug the comforter down on the bed.

  It landed on the floor in a large heap, and I frowned.

  “I read online that hotels don’t wash their comforters, and ever since then I’ve yanked them off and only slept with the sheets.”

  I blinked in surprise.

  “Why would they not wash the comforter?” I grimaced, thinking about how revolting it would be if that were true. “That’s disgusting.”

  He nodded his head and started to rip the corner of the sheet off the bed.

  “It is,” he agreed as he bent over to peer at the mattress itself.

  “Now what are you doing?” I pushed.

  “Looking for a bed bug infestation,” he mentioned almost casually. “It looks good to me.”

  “What?” I cried. “Bugs?”

  His lips twitched.

  “I wasn’t saying there would actually be any here, but it’s also something I always check for, just in case,” he admitted sheepishly.

  “Another superstition?” I asked casually, walking to my suitcase and pulling it carefully out of the closet.

  The moment I moved mine I saw his, and my mouth twitched.

  I couldn’t figure out how I’d missed it.

  It was bright freakin’ red.

  But it was smaller than mine and it’d been directly behind mine, so that likely accounted for why it was overlooked.

  Once I had it next to the counter, I dumped it over on its side and squatted down to open it.

  The move made the towel ride up, exposing my pussy to the floor, but I ignored it, instead looking for a bra to contain my massive DDs.

  I wish they had squats for boobs.

  The moment I found my bra, I stood up and let the towel drop, completely unaware that I had an audience that was avidly watching my every move.

  Once my bra—a prettier one than normal since I knew I’d be seeing Hancock this weekend—was hooked, I pulled the cups up over my breasts and then worked my hands into the straps and situated it.

  Then resituated it since my breasts were so unruly.

  Then again, this bra was notorious for pushing my cleavage up instead of actually of doing anything to contain it.

  There was a rule about bras for bustier ladies. A bra couldn’t be pretty and be comfortable. That was just the cold, hard truth.

  It sucked, but we ladies learned to live with it.

  After deciding that the bra was just going to have to do since I hadn’t packed any more, I grabbed a black lace pair of underwear, bent slightly over the bed with my hand touching the top to steady myself, and lifted a leg.

  And that’s when I heard the groan.

  I froze and dropped my leg, turning slightly to where I’d heard the groan originate from, and blinked when I saw Hancock sitting on what looked to be a dressing chair directly behind me. He was staring at my ass like he wanted to devour it, and I made a grab for the towel.

  “Don’t,” he ordered harshly, then lightened his tone. “Please don’t.”

  I froze with my hand around the towel, and knew that I had a decision to make. I could either continue to be self-conscious around him, or let it happen naturally. He’d made no bones about the fact that he liked my body. He liked that I was on the thicker side.

  Hell, if the erection that was tenting the towel, which might I add was wrapped fairly tightly around his waist since it was pinned with the way he was sitting, was anything to go by, then he quite obviously liked what he saw.

  And I knew, I knew, that I was going to give me to him.

  All of me. The good and the bad.

  I was going to be me. I wasn’t going to be a fraction of me like I was with Langston.

  I was going to let him see that I enjoyed food. I was going to let him see that when I came home from work, my bra came off because wearing bras sucked. I was going to show him everything, and hope that he was there when the dust settled around me.

  Once the decision was made, I dropped the towel, and then turned to sit on the bed directly in front of him.

  His mouth was relaxed, but his eyes were dancing with happiness.

  “You made a good decision, Half-Pint,” he informed me. “I’m glad.”

  I could feel the flush taking over my face.

  “Want to play a game?” he asked casually.

  My head tilted to the side, and I stared at him.

  “What kind of game?” I finally worked up the courage to ask.

  The smile that overtook his face was as close to a leer as I would say one could get.

  “One that ends in your orgasm and mine,” he promptly replied. “So, what do you say?”

  “What does this game entail?” I pushed as if his erection hadn’t jumped in anticipation, and his pebbled nipples weren’t affecting me at all.

  “It entails you doing what I say, when I say it, and you get rewarded,” he explained teasingly.

  Before, I hadn’t doubted that Hancock was an alpha male, but now...well, now I knew he was. He was an alpha in the bedroom and out. There was no doubting it now.

  The fact might’ve been a turnoff for anyone else. Generally, I made it a rule to stay away from the bossy men since I had enough of bossy men growing up.

  I liked to do my own thing, and I enjoyed it.

  Being bossed around wasn’t my idea of a good time, and if someone tried, I’d let them know really quick that it wasn’t for me.

  But when Hancock did it, I lost the ability to think.

  The actual rules didn’t matter. If he wanted me to do it, I’d do it, and all he had to do was ask…or tell.

  If he said jump, I’d ask how high.

  “Okay,” I said without hesitation. “What’s in it for me?”

  The teasing didn’t have the desired effect.

  The moment I agreed, he was out of his chair and pushing me backwards onto the bed, his large hand between my legs.

  In a matter of seconds, he was playing with my clit, swirling it around with his thumb while his fingers probed my wetness.

  Which was embarrassing.

  We’d been out of the shower a whole five minutes and my readiness for him was more than evident.

  Something he found himself liking.

  Immensely.

  His mouth came down
on mine as the first finger penetrated my depths, not stopping until he was at the webbing of his fingers.

  “So fucking wet,” he said in between breaths against my lips.

  I moaned shakily as I moved my heels up to rest on the edge of the bed, and he moved the rest of the way in between them.

  The towel he still had around his hips rasped against the inside of my thighs, but the things he was doing to my clit and pussy had me forgetting everything else that had happened.

  “Please,” I pleaded. “Please.”

  I was going to come.

  He’d only thrust one strong finger into my pussy and had played with my clit for less than thirty seconds, and I was already right there.

  The moment I realized I was close, I came.

  Just giving it the awareness that it needed was enough to draw a scream from my lungs as another orgasm, my second in under thirty minutes, overtook me.

  My pussy rippled around his long finger, and being the expert he was, he stopped the movement on my clit, knowing on instinct that I would be too sensitive for his continued ministrations.

  It was only after I caught my breath that he spoke his next words.

  “That’s what’s in it for you,” he growled against my lips. “So, are you ready to play?”

  God yes, I was ready to play.

  All freakin’ night long if he wanted me to.

  “Yes.”

  Was there any other answer that I could give at this point?

  The sane answer was: hell no.

  ***

  Hancock

  “Come to the balcony with me,” I ordered, holding out my hand for her. “And lose the bra.”

  She looked down at the bra, then looked at my hand.

  Taking it, I helped her stand and let it go as she deftly unhooked the bra that she’d just put on.

  The moment her breasts were free again, my hard cock became harder.

  God, she was magnificent.

  Her porcelain white skin was milky and smooth. Then there were her pretty pink nipples.

  Though they were on the larger side, I found them to be freakin’ perfect.

  I couldn’t wait to see how much of those pretty nipples I could fit into my mouth.

  And God, her pussy was addictive.

  Waiting for her to look into my eyes, I brought up the finger that’d only moments before been inside of her, and sucked the juices off in one long lick.