Page 62 of Without Bound
He takes slow, menacing steps towards me and his face moves further into the soft glow of the lamp. His eyes are wide and his mouth hangs open as his tongue smooths over his full bottom lip. I notice his fingers wiggle and his hands pump in and out of fists.
He stops right in front of me, his eyes trailing up and down my body before saying, “Well I’m sorry, Ms.De La Cruz, but tryouts are over and I’ve got a full roster.”
My cheeks rise high as my smile spreads like wildfire. I find the words to keep our little game going.
“Are you sure you can’t make an exception for me?” I squeeze my shoulder blades together, pushing out my breasts, and tilt my head to look up at him.
In his closet I saw a stack of plain white undershirts folded on a shelf, and found a white tank sitting right on top. I cut the hem so short that it barely covers my nipples, and the bottom portion of my breasts are exposed, just like the color of my nipples that peeks through the fabric. I grabbed a pair of his boxer briefs and rolled the waistband, making them as useful as the shirt was at covering up certain parts of my body, and slipped my feet into a pair of tall socks I found.
He fingers the hem of my t-shirt and his knuckles brush against my sensitive nipple. Chills erupt and I press my thighs together when I feel myself grow damp between my legs.
“I guess I could make an exception, but you have to be the best of the best. What position do you play?”
“Catcher. I’m great at giving signs, and I always give my pitcher a wide target to aim for.I can also spend a lot of time on my knees without getting tired.” I smirk at him, hoping he’ll get all of the innuendos I just threw out.
“It sounds like you’ve got all of the qualifications. I’d like to see you in action. Do you have time for a quick hands on demonstration of your skills?” His large hands smooth down my torso, over my ribs and rest on my waist.
“It doesn’t have to be quick. I have plenty of time to show youallof my skills.”
“Hm. But do you have your equipment?” he asks, and I let my fingers trail down his chest and stomach and over the bulge in his jeans.
I cup my hand over his stiff erection and whisper, “I’ve got everything I need right here.”
A low growl rumbles from his chest and his entire body vibrates. So does mine. With anticipation and a small dose of doubt. Is this something I can really do? For the first time, no less. I try to put those worries out of my head and tell myself that everything will be fine.
My fingers slide under the hem of his shirt and crawl up his hard chest. I flick his nipples and watch his nostrils flare. He helps me in getting his shirt off and I let my tongue lick a trail from his pecs, over the ridges of his abs, and lay a kiss just above the waistband of his jeans.
I work his belt undone and flip the button on his jeans. “Would you like to see my form? Maybe guide me to make sure I’m doing it right?”
His shoes get toed off and I begin pulling his jeans over his thick quads.God, I love his legs. They’re so big and strong and his skin is so dark and smooth. It’s a silly thing that it turns me on, but I get wet whenever I think about the muscles flexing as he walks.
When his pants are laying in a heap on the floor, I take a deep breath and do the same to his boxer briefs. His hard cock bobs when it’s freed and my palms turn sweaty. I’ve never given head before, though I’ve watched plenty of porn with oral sex. I don’t want to disappoint him, so I’m praying that my video research is good enough.
I bite my lower lip and wrap my hand around his shaft. Like his legs, it’s thick and veiny and now I know why I have such an obsession with his legs. My tongue peeks out and I dip my head and lick the precum that beads up at the tip. I hum when saltiness touches my tongue.
“Have you done this before, baby girl?”
With my hair covering my face I shake my head and mumble, “No.”
I’m embarrassed by my inexperience and afraid that he’ll decide I am too much of a child to bother with.
“Thank fuck,” he sighs and I lift my head, my shocked eyes meeting his mischievous ones. “I thought I was going to have to break the dicks off any douche that touched you.”
I smile up at him and raise up on my tiptoes. Placing a soft kiss on his lips, I tell him, “You’re it, Bishop. There has never and will never be another. I feel it in my heart.”
“Me too, my little butterfly.” His knuckles glide gently across my cheek before he returns my kiss, deep and passionately.
I break my mouth free with a pop and slither down his body. My eyes stay locked on his as I grab his hard dick again, and run my hand up and down. I run through the scenes I watched in porns like a rolodex of‘how to’and lick my lips, readying them for the stretch that will no doubt feel like I’m being sliced open.
“Do you kno–” he begins, but I steal his words when I wrap my lips around the engorged head and swirl my tongue. “Fucking Christ, Anais.”
I tease him, taking him shallow then a little deeper before sliding back and flicking my tongue. I hollow my cheeks and start taking him until he hits the back of my throat. I breathe in deep through my nose and relax my throat to take in more.
“Baby girl, you don’t have to do–goddamn, that’s so good.” I continue to move up and down, feeling him twitch and grow harder.
His fingers weave into my hair, a little too gently, and I pull off long enough to tell him, “I’m not made of glass, Bishop. You don’t have to be gentle,” then return to sucking him and barely missing a beat.
The grip tightens slightly but still much too softly. I can tell he’s holding back a beast, but I won’t push him. Instead I continue to work him, my lips pulled tight and the sting in my jaw growing with each passing second. Still I persist because I want to be everything for him. I want to be the one to bring him the most pleasure. I want to be the only one who matters.
