A quick story...
I knew what I wanted from the moment she walked into the kitchen.
She was the first piece of ass that I'd ever welcomed into my home and into my young life on a regular basis. I didn't love her, but I discovered that I loved having her around. Loved fucking her hard a few times on a Saturday night and slowly all morning long on a Sunday. I didn't care what my buddies in the Corps said, I wasn't settling down. I was just fulfilling a basic need, and more regularly than they were.
Her clothes hugged her body tightly, emphasizing all of her generous curves. Her long, slender neckline plunged into the fabric of a blouse that struggled to contain the swell of her huge, round breasts. But it was her ass that captured my imagination. And all the things I could do with it, and to it. I knew intimately what was under her skirt. The softness of her flesh, the rose petals of her primary treasure, and the tightness of her asshole.
I wanted her then. Real bad.
And I could see from the look in her hazel eyes that she wanted me too. Wanted what I had to offer. Like a bitch in heat. I could smell the need on her.
Sweat rolled down into my eyes, as I casually wiped the back of my hand across my forehead, and then running it back over the precise haircut that marked me as one of the few, the proud.
Her eyes hungrily followed the movement of my hand, watching the sweat drip down onto the tile floor, as her eyes traced the defined lines of my powerful forearms and stopped hovering where the meaty flesh of my biceps curled into powerful round guns, swelling with eighteen inches of power. But she didn't stop there. My baby loved my powerful arms, but she also loved my strong chest, broad with muscle where it hung against a six pack so defined that you could scrub your clothes on it. And I'd just gotten back from the long, satisfying run that had followed my early morning session in the gym. My bronzed skin glowed in the early morning light of the kitchen under the slick dampness of raw, male sweat.
I saw her give an involuntary shudder and knew that she was mine as sure as I knew my own name. Mine for as long as I wanted her.
"You look fucking hot today, darlin."
She flushed with pleasure. She couldn't help herself.
"I'm going to be late for work," she reminded me. She grabbed a piece of toast that was sitting on the counter.
"I don't know why you can't get up when I do," I suggested to her.
I walked up to where she was standing. Her eyes near the level of my shoulders. She enjoyed my muscles immensely, but not as much as my dick.
"Maybe if you hadn't wanted to fuck me that third time last night," she offered suggestively, "I might have had a bit more stamina this morning."
She took another bite of the toast and offered me what was left.
"There is that," I agreed happily. "But you've got the most amazing ass. Sometimes I just can't help myself."
I took an enthusiastic bite of the toast, relishing the taste of the butter as it hit my tongue, and I grabbed her bottom with my other hand and gave her a very pleasant squeeze.
My dick had begun to stiffen when I had first set eyes on her a few minutes ago. My mind had taken a pleasant wander down memories from last night. Memories of a Sunday we'd spent making love on the couch, and later in the evening in bed. Filling her up that night not once, not twice, but three times until my cum leaked out of her pussy and down my balls with each thrust.
She may have felt tired this morning, even I felt a little tired after my run, but her proximity to my body was giving me new energy.
Her short black skirt got me even more horny than my already overactive male hormones normally required of me to be a man. My dick was now raging against the tight lycra confines of my running shorts.
"Is Harvey still giving you trouble at work?" I wondered with my mouth full of the last piece of toast, my fingers still groping her ass, full of her warm flesh as all good manners flew out the window.
I gave her a powerful squeeze to encourage her answer.
Her face was dangerously close to my chest and she breathed in my musky odor before she responded.
"Nothing I can't handle," she said.
Oh, fuck! She was hot. So very hot. She'd been mine from the time we met in a bar one night five long months ago. But at the time she'd been Harv's woman. Now she belonged to me.
"You want me to speak to him?"
"No," she told me quickly. "Besides I know what you mean by that. He doesn't need a visit by some angry jarhead. Or his fellow Marines. No matter how much he may or may not deserve it."
Damn she was cute. And sassy. I liked them sassy.
"Who's the better lover?" I asked her. "Me or Harv?" I pulled her tight against me.
"You are," she replied, looking up at me with those big dark eyes. "You know you are."
"Tell me."
"You are bigger, better and harder," she breathed. "Everywhere it counts."
"Do you need to be reminded?"
"As if anyone needed to be reminded after last night."
I reached down behind her and under her skirt, my index finger rubbing against her pussy through the silky material of her panties.
"I think you do need reminding," I said firmly.
