Page 63 of CowSex
KOA
ITHOUGHT SHE WAS GONNAsay no, turn down my offer of no-strings sex. I sat and watched as she battled with her moral compass.
Gracie is a good girl, she might have a sassy attitude and enjoy giving me shit, flirting, and teasing, but underneath it all, she’s a good girl.
I kinda feel bad that casual is all I can offer her.
Kinda.
She manoeuvres herself off my lap and stands in front of me. She’s wearing a pair of leopard print drawstring pants and an oversized black sweater that hangs off one shoulder. I noticed the straps of whatever she has on beneath that earlier when I may or may not have been checking out whether or not she was wearing a bra.
She pulls the sweater over her head and then peels off the compression bandage I helped her put on earlier.
She twirls it around her head like she’s doing a striptease and throws it in my direction.
I pick it up and sniff it like it’s her underwear that’s just landed in my lap, playing along with her stripper routine.
Not that I regularly sniff underwear.
Or even go to strip clubs.
Much.
“Sexy, Essex. You should’ve kept that on for me. Just that and nothing else.”
“I can put it back on if you really want me to, Cowboy.”
“It’s off now, quit wasting time and get naked. I need to see you.”
She has on some kind of sports bra, the kind women wear at the gym. Can’t say that it’s exactly sexy, but knowing what’s underneath it sure is.
She pulls down the pants she’s wearing and steps out of them, revealing pink camouflage panties. They’re the same kind she had on the first night she was here, almost like a tiny, sexy pair of shorts.
I take her in. Every inch of her. She’s all creamy skin, ink, and curves. She pulls out the hair ties holding each of her braids in place and uses her fingers to comb through the soft-looking strands. I’ve never seen her with her hair down, and I’m tempted to reach out and touch it as it falls around her shoulders.
“Your turn,” she whispers.
I pull my shirt over my head and throw it on top of her clothes before I lift my hips and slide off my sweatpants.
My dick is so hard and swollen, it’s almost sticking out above the waistband of my boxers. I debate whether to take them off, too, but decide to draw things out a little longer.
When I look up at her, she’s staring down at my dick and biting down on her lip. I have no control over the twitch it gives in appreciation of that stare.
“Back to you, Essex.”
Her eyes travel from between my legs, over my stomach and chest, until they finally meet mine.
She pulls her bra off over her head, and her soft round tits bounce as they’re freed.
“Oh fuck me, Essex, you’re gorgeous.” She really is fucking beautiful.
She seems to hesitate for a beat while looking right at me. I know whatever battle waging inside is over the instant she slides her panties down her hips and shimmies out of them.
I stare at her in stunned silence for what seems like forever. My eyes devour everything before me. From her pink sparkly toenails to the ink that travels from her thigh, around the curve of her hip to her back, reappears over her shoulder, and continues down her arm.
“Jesus, Gracie Elliott, remind me next week to order Alma-May the biggest bunch of flowers and a thank you card for being shit at her job and sending such perfection my way.”
She smiles but says nothing. I’ve never known her so quiet.
