Page 19 of Rookie Moves

It felt almost luxuriant against her flushed skin, her desperate hands already tugging at the still sweaty waistband of his clingy gym shorts. Her fingers gripped the ribbed material, dragging them down without preamble only to reveal his stiff, tender prick, glistening with his excitement and veiny as the day was long.

“Oh shit?” She paused with his pants midway down his thighs, admiring the glistening cock and the soft tuft of sweaty brown curls that surrounded it like a halo. “You didn’t wear drawers either, Big Boy?”

He wasn’t big, actually. Not wide or long but the smooth, slender length of his shaft was simply perfect, flawless, and enticing for the way she knew it would feel, savory and thick inside her mouth, and when the time came, buried deep inside her hungry snatch.

Their eyes met above his sweaty, sticky body, his color rising all the more. “I guess I maybe thought this might kinda be happening today, and wanted to be ready.”

She nodded at his throbbing shaft, pulsing with every beat of his heart. “Oh, I can see you’re ready…”

Tatum was, too. God, was she ever ready. Despite Shane having taken her places she never thought she’d visit, mountaintops of desire and peaks of ecstasy, a lasting kind of lust remained, overflowing and deep inside of her—the lust to please her lean, sexy lover in every way imaginable. To do all the things in the light of day his small-town lover never dared to, even in the quiet, small-town darkness of her cozy Christian bedroom.

She yanked the sweaty joggers down to his ankles, dragging down those sexy tube socks as she grunted impatiently, tugging off his grubby sneakers until he was naked save for his baggy striped socks.

She tossed the lump of clothes and shoes nearby, another tumbling mess of sticky, sweaty jock accessories that she supposed were part of loving a boy like Shane. When she was done, panting with anticipation, and licking her lips as she drank in every lean, sinewy inch of him, he nudged out his chin at her still-naked form. “You were saying something about a … favor?”

She nodded wickedly, glancing at his tube socks. Saggy and baggy and sweaty and just a little bit dirty. “Can you … leave those on for me?”

His eyes widened even as his lean body shook with a slight Southern chuckle. “Oh, damn, girl, is that some kind of kink or something?”

She shook her head surely, then nodded uncertainly. “I’m not sure. It never was before, but ever since I met you, Shane, my whole world’s turned upside down.”

“Mine too, girl. Trust me.” He paused, drinking her nakedness in as if he hadn’t just spent the better part of an hour touching her all over, admiring every inch of her in the harsh light of day. “Listen, you sure you don’t want me to take a shower or something first? Wash all this sweat off before we get started good and proper-like?”

“Hell, no!”

His chuckle was soft and breezy, like the sexy gleam in his soft green eyes. “I dunno, I got pretty funky back there in the batting cage.”

She wriggled closer on the carpet beneath her, palming his knees and gently spreading his thin, pale thighs. The motion set free his fragrant sack, thick and dusted with wispy pubic hair, like the smooth skin of his mound. She sniffed greedily, filling her nostrils with the masculine musk of his clean, youthful sweat, all the manly, athletic impulses she’d denied herself for so very long. “Shane Dixon, I can honestly say that sweaty andfunky… is exactly how I want you right now.”

He wriggled, bare ass squeaking against the battered leather of the couch cushion beneath him. “Damn, girl, keep talking like that and you’ll make me burst with just your dirty talk.”

She shook her head, feeling her unfurled ponytail slither across her naked shoulders. “Where’s the fun in that, Shane?”

Their eyes met, his pinning hers with lust unspoken and desire untamed. “Don’t say that, Tatum. You’re the funnest girl I’ve ever met.”

“Fun is one thing, Shane,” she murmured. Her hands gently slithered up his thighs so that she felt the muscles inside coil and strain beneath her greedy fingertips. “What I’m about to do to you is something else altogether.”

He struggled to be cocky, giving her a shit-eating grin and sliding gently forward so that his thick balls nearly drifted from the edge of the couch altogether. But inside she felt the hesitance in his muscles, saw the flicker of his belly as her hands did things to him only a woman who’s had more than one lover could do. “Any other requests?” His innocent eyes were shy and uncertain, so at odds with his ripe, manly body and the thin layer of masculine sweat that covered every inch of him.

She nodded, admiring his taut, gleaming chest and those long, wiry arms. “Put your hands behind your head,” she commanded with a lurid leer, enjoying the sudden thrill of being absolutely, utterly in charge.

“Your wish,” he teased. He did just that as he lifted his arms and slid his hands behind his head, lacing his fingers behind his damp brown curls. “Anything else?”

“Just one last thing, baby,” she said. Her fingertips finally reached the tops of his thighs and danced along the dirty-blond fuzz that dotted his thick balls. “Sit back, enjoy, and shut the hell up!”

His laughter was rich and buoyant, like the heft of his meaty sack as she gently palmed it, rolling it around like fuzzy dice in her greedy, sensitive hand.

“Oh, damn, that feels good!” he blurted, all syrupy and boyish and gooey.

She tugged them for emphasis, and he got the message, nodding even as his eyelids fluttered and going radio silent as Tatum bent to her desire and finally feasted her eyes on the splendor between Shane’s legs.

While her left hand cradled his savory sack, caressing its heft and teasing it playfully, her right gently gripped the slim, slender base of Shane’s small, pretty cock. He murmured, eyelids fluttering as his biceps flexed instinctively in concert with his fluttering belly, so flat and lean above the wispy happy trail that ended at his belly button.

It hummed like a live wire in her hand, the skin so smooth and silken she couldn’t help but draw out her caress as she traveled the length of his slick, veiny shaft. The head was sodden and sticky with pre-cum, her fingertips lingering in the shimmering puddle that had formed around the jagged slit as he wriggled and squirmed with mounting anticipation.

She palmed the tip as she did his balls, cupping its mushroom-shaped splendor and gathering the juices lingering there until her hand was slick and perfectly wet for the smooth, sensual trip back down the length of her trembling lover’s staff. She had crept steadily closer all the while she serviced him, until her legs touched the base of the couch and Shane’s thighs were spread as wide as they could go. He watched her every move, making her keenly aware of how taut her nipples had grown, how quickly her belly fluttered with fresh-won desire, how wet she was—again.

Jesus, she wanted this. Wanted this more than she’d ever wanted anything. Ever. Wanted this so much she didn’t care who knew—his coach, her editor, every one of the damn other jocks up and down his hallway. No doubt they had already heard her squeals of delight and moans of pure, animal pleasure and the knocking of the dorm room door as she banged against it, again and again, her whole body racked by the power of the multiple orgasms he’d given her so easily it must have felt like child’s play beneath his tender, expert fingers.

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