Page 51 of Resisting the Running Back

We’re both quietly lost in thought even though we’re still lost in each other when she finally speaks.

“Miller, that was—” She cuts herself off as she searches for the right word.

“Unexpected?” I guess.

She chuckles a little. “Yeah. And amazing.”

I move off of her and settle in beside her, pulling her into my arms so her back is against my front. “It really was,” I murmur.

I’m nearly asleep when I hear her playful voice. “You imagined my pussy being tight?”

I jolt awake, and I lean up, bending my arm at the elbow as I rest my face on my palm. I pull on her shoulder until she turns in my direction, and I stare down at her gorgeous face.

We already crossed the line. May as well leap right the fuck over it.

“From the day I met you, I wondered how tight it was.”

It’s dark in here since we bumped our way in without bothering with the lights, but I left the door open, and light filters in across her face from the hallway. I see her cheeks redden.

“That’s just fourteen-year-old Miller talking,” she says.

I shake my head. “Twenty-year-old Miller wondered, too. But it was thirty-year-old Miller who got to find out.”

“Lucky guy.”

I raise a brow. “You have no idea.”

She looks like she wants to say something, and I have a feeling I know what it is.

To be honest, I’m wondering, too. What does all this mean? How will it affect our friendship? How will it affect our new living situation?

Will we do that again? And…when?

They’re all questions I want the answers to, but we also have all the time in the world stretching out before us. We can talk tomorrow.

Tonight…well, tonight I just want to kiss her again.

I lean down and press my lips to hers, and she seems to melt into me. Damn if I’m not raring to go already.

I hold it together. I can’t literally wreck her pussy even though I’m tempted to get right back in there.

“Do you want to shower?” I ask quietly. Most women I’ve been with seem to want to freshen up after sex, and I’m never opposed to slippery, wet tits covered in soap bubbles.

“I do, but I also don’t want to move. You really did wreck my pussy with that enormous dick. How do you walk around all day with that thing?”

“That thing?” I ask, feeling a little defensive.

She chuckles, and she glances down between us. “It’s like…” She holds up her hands to exaggerate my length.

So I’ve got a big cock. I can’t help it.

I push her hands a little closer.

“What’s that, like…ten inches?” she asks.

“Right around nine when it’s hard,” I admit.

“Jesus Christ,” she mutters. “And how do you know that?”

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