Home > Baseball Bride(5)

Baseball Bride(5)
Author: Penny Wylder

That was all a dream. A dark, twisted, deliciously dirty dream. And now I’m wet as fuck.

“Um, yeah, I’m ready, just give me one second,” I answer him swiftly, rearranging some papers and files on my desk. “Just give me a minute. I’ll meet you in the massage room down the hall. Second one on the right.”

Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me?

I watch Ryon turn away and head for the massage room, and I rest my head back on my chair, letting out a deep breath. My heart is racing and I can feel the heat in my cheeks as they blush.

I just had a very vivid and pantie melting daydream about my client before our first actual session. How messed up am I? Is this normal?

I can’t be doing this! It’s not right!

Once I get myself under control, I follow him down the hallway. I pause at the threshold to the room, eyeing him up and down in just his thin, terrycloth towel wrapped around his waist. Swallowing hard, I run my hands over my head and take in a deep breath. Announcing myself, I smile big. “Okay, time to get down to business. Let’s start so we can get you back on the field.”

The sooner the better.

The sooner he’s back to full strength, the sooner I can get him the hell out of here. The simple fact I was able to have such a clear and nerve ruffling vision about this man is enough to drive me crazy. I can’t risk losing control. I can’t risk doing something I might regret.

I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to keep my hands strictly professional if I have to stare at a man like Ryon Daniels, and touch his half naked body any longer than necessary.

He smiles as he walks toward me and around the massage table, brushing the sharp edge of my nipples with the outside of his arm as he goes by. My stomach lurches into my throat.

Does he know?

Are my dirty thought written all over my face?

Because the smirk on his face says he knows everything.

 

 

3

 

 

Ryon

 

 

“Okay,” she says, slipping her hands softly down my spine until they’re just gone.

She moves around the room as I push up on my forearms. I don’t get up right away. . . Because I can’t. For very apparent reasons that are hard and stiff at the moment.

I’m fucking hard as rock. Did she slip a Viagra in my cucumber flavored water?

Her hands, fuck, her hands are magic on my body. For an hour I felt her soft and strong hands all over my body. I was hard a minute into the massage, and stayed hard the entire time. I feel like a goddamn teenager right now, blue balls and all.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to get dressed, and when you’re ready, come meet me in the gym so we can go over the prescribed exercises you need to do at home.”

“Sounds good.” My voice croaks, and she hesitates for a second, giving me a puzzled look. But she doesn’t seem to pay any more attention and leaves me alone.

Letting out a heavy breath, I push up and swing my feet off the edge of the table. I’m so damn hard, my dick is standing straight up under the white sheet, and it doesn’t feel like it’s going to go away any time soon.

It’s insane the things this woman can do to me with her hands. It wasn’t even sexual. I was staring at the floor the entire time during the massage, but the harder my dick grew, and each of those times I could feel her breasts brushing up against my skin as she leaned over me, made me want to turn my head, to see her face, her beautiful body. Fuck, I don’t know if I never want her to put me through that torture again or if I want it every day for the rest of my life.

Pressing bare feet into the cool wood floor, I stand and try to walk off my boner. Come on, go down already. Setting my hands on my hips, I walk a track around the massage table, my cock fully at attention, sticking straight out.

Okay, think of something gross, something that isn’t as sexy as Gillian Sannow.

Nothing comes to mind. All I can see is her perfect heart shaped lips, her round cheeks, the cute little beauty mark that’s on her right cheek. Even under her baggy, blue t-shirt, and her khaki shorts, I can tell she has a body I could fuck for days.

Porcelain skin, rosy cheeks, her nipples pressing against her shirt to say hello. And her ass, fuck that ass is biteable.

This isn’t helping. . .

Looking at my waist, my dick has found its way into my hand and I’m slowly stroking up and down. Gripping the tip in my palm, I squeeze my head and glide back down. My balls draw up, tightening against my body as I keep jerking my cock. I need this.

There’s no way to back out of this now. I have to get off or I’ll be hurting for the rest of the day. Ensuring no one interrupts me, I lean one hand against the closed door. I imagine her face if she came in and found me with my hard cock in my hand.

Her eyes jump open wide as she sees me stroking myself. But her surprise would quickly turn to lust, a dirty, greedy lust. She’d close the door behind her, licking her lips as she locks the handle.

Fuck, I’d love it if she really showed up right now.

My hand moves faster, with firmer pulls and harder jerks. The fantasy in my head is strong and clear, and the only thing that will end this ache between my thighs.

I imagine her dropping to her knees and taking my dick in her hands. She licks her lips, and drives her mouth over my cock.

Spitting in my hand, I use the saliva to make my dream more real and alive. Her warm mouth sucks me deeper inside, and her cheeks hollow as I reach the back of her throat. I imagine how silky her hair would feel in my fingers as I guide her head, fucking her face.

Stroking faster and faster, the orgasm burns in my gut, sending waves of electricity through my veins. My hand is her mouth, moving up and down, over and over, her tongue flattening against the underside of my cock.

Jerking my cock harder, the orgasm hits me and the first jet of hot cum spills over my knuckles and hits the door. I lean my forehead against the door and allow my weight to fall against it. I relax and keep stroking until the last jet of cum is spent. Grabbing the towel I used for the sauna, I clean up the mess and get dressed.

Balling up the towel, I toss it into the basket and head to the gym. I spot Gillian standing against the far wall with her clipboard. Standing for a moment, I just watch her from a distance.

She’s so fucking beautiful. Never in my life have I been so blown away by a woman, but this woman has lit a fuse in my core.

Lifting her head, she catches my eyes and smiles, waving her hand as if I didn’t see her first. I’m about to take a step, when my phone rings and I see it’s my agent.

Holding up my finger, I signal her I’ll be there in a one minute. “Hey, what’s going on, Eddie?” I ask as I answer the call.

“You busy?”

“I’m finishing up my physical therapy, why?”

“How much longer you got?”

“I don’t know, a few minutes.” I let my eyes flit back over to Gillian as she flips through pages on her clipboard.

“All right, call me back when you finish up, we need to talk.” I can hear the urgency in his voice. Eddie never has this much stress in his voice, and it makes me uneasy.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Just call me when you leave.” The speaker goes silent and my phone beeps, letting me know he hung up.

Looking at the screen, I say out loud to myself quietly, “Bye to you too.”

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