Page 47 of Life To My Flight

Must stop thinking about Cleo’s dick. I scolded myself.

I slipped my hands into the loops, and then rearranged my breasts for comfort instead of sex appeal.

“Shame,” he said as he stepped away.

Leaning towards the sink, I grabbed the tank off the counter, slipped it over my head, and grimaced at how tight it was.

“Jesus,” I said as I inspected myself in the mirror.

I looked like an Oompa Loompa.

“What?” He asked as his eyes centered on my fat ass.

“I look like a whale,” I said.

He looked up and caught my eyes before prowling forward and bringing my body back against his with a hand at my belly.

His rock hard cock dug into the small of my back and I froze.

“You’re not a whale. You look so fucking sexy that I’m contemplating my morning run, substituting it with fucking your ass into the floor.”

“Sounds painful,” I rasped.

He grinned, his dark eyes lowering until all I could see was the slit of his iris under the dark slash of his lashes.

“It could be. But it’d also feel fucking awesome at the same time,” he admonished.

I snorted. “Let’s go. All your dirty talking is making me need a shower.”

He grinned and then grabbed my hand. “Sir, yes, sir.”

I smacked his ass, urging him forward. “Any day now, soldier.”

“I’m a PJ, darlin’. Not a soldier,” he informed me haughtily.

I snorted.

Touchy, touchy.

We walked out into the cool morning air, down the front walk, and to the street where we both stretched.

I’ll admit I put a little extra bend in my stretch, making sure he could see how flexible I was, just to give his mind a little tease on what was to come.

“You ready?” I asked after he stopped stretching and just stared.

He blinked and then nodded. “10-4.”

The run started out slow, but quickly picked up pace as I tried my damndest to keep up with him.

The only thing that kept me going so long was watching the play of his muscles as he took one long stride after another.

Today he’d get about a hundred yards in front of me, and then turn back around until he reached me. Immediately followed by him turning back around and repeating the process.

He’d probably gotten about twice the run in than I did, but the view was amazing.

After what felt like nearly three miles, but was probably more like one, I finally raised the proverbial white flag. “I gotta stop,” I wheezed, waving my hand in the air once he was back.

He stopped immediately and came back to me, his hands on his hips and his beautiful chest moving slightly faster than normal.

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