Corrupted Chapter 3
Page 4
“Well, that ain’t good for basketball,” she teased.
“Yeah, but it’s good for fucking,” he countered.
She looked at him and said, “Well, come here then. And bring that chair over by the window.”
She pointed to the tall-backed chair that sat across from the sofa and the coffee table.
“What’chu try’na fuck me in front of the window?”
“Are you trying to stop me?”
“Naw.”
“Well, shut up and bring the chair then.”
He stared at her and said, “Don’t tell nobody you talk to me like that.” Then he moved to bring her the chair to the window.
“You got what we need with you?” she asked him next.
He pulled out a pack of ribbed, lubricated condoms, obeying Chelsea’s strict policy; no condoms, no pussy, period with no arguments!
She took them in her hands cheered, “That’s my baby.” Then she told him to sit down in the chair, where she proceeded to rub his crotch and climb under his shirt to lick and suck his nipples.
He gripped her head under his Nike shirt and asked her, “Are you all right? Can you breathe under there?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” she panted. “You?”
“Oh, I’m real good,” he answered with his eyes closed.
As Chelsea continued to lick and suck his nipples under his shirt, she reached down to undo his zipper and belt buckle to free his extra long dick.
“Baby, this is gonna be goood,” she moaned to him.
“Oh, I knooow,” he moaned back.
As she tugged down his pants and boxers to free his throbbing hard on, he leaned his head back so far in the chair it looked as if he neck was broken.
“Do what you do, girl. Do what you doo,” he told her.
Chelsea slid the ribbed and lubricated condom down his shaft and turned to face out the window to Times Square. She then guided him into her backwards, and used the window for balance and leverage.
“Oh, shit,” the ballplayer moaned as she proceeded to ride him backwards at the window. She stretched her hands out against the glass and squeaked up and down with her opened fingers. She could feel the full length of his dick, pushing all the way inside of her.
“Oh my God, you hitting me deeep, baby,” she told him.
“Naw, you hitting your damnself deep,” he responded.
“Well, hit me back then. Push it back,” she pleaded.
He pushed back with his long pelvis and damn near sent her through the window. Chelsea lost her balance with her hands and arms as her face hit the glass.
“Shit, you okay?”
“Yeah,” she answered through a chuckle, still fucking him. “Do it again.”
He did it again, but her hands and arms were ready this time. She caught herself before her face smacked up against the glass again. All the while, the bright lights of New York City’s Times Square was right there in front of her, as if she could reach out through the window and grab it.
“Times Square, baby, it’s Times Squaaare,” she told him as they stroked each other at the window, up and down, back and forth, in and out. “That should be a sonnng,” Chelsea moaned.
She had him so excited from her stroke, her moans and her gibberish that he stood halfway up in the chair to pound her some more.
“Shit, don’t go through the window, girl. Don’t go through the window,” he told her.
“Yeah, send me through it, baby. Send me through it. Send to Times Square. I wanna touch it. I wanna flyyy over it and sing. Do it!”
“Well, get a fucking helicopter then,” he joked, still fucking her.
They laughed together. But it began to feel so good that he stood up all the way to lean her forward, doggystyle.
“Grab my titties,” she told him. “Grab my tittieeese.”
He grabbed her firm breasts hard from behind an anchored himself, pounding deeper and deeper into her miniature body.
How can she take this shit? he asked himself. How can she take it? She’s amazing! She got a deep, magic pussy. I probably way up in her ribs now. I’m in her damn ribs! And it’s coming! It’s coming! It’s coming!
Chelsea stared out at the bright lights of Times Square in front of her and smiled. She was loving it. It was her life. And she wouldn’t trade it for anything. She had enough money, freedom and attractiveness to fuck anywhere around the world with whoever she wanted to fuck. And she didn’t have to answer to anyone.
I can fuck how I want to, she insisted. And fuck you right back!
Read the next exciting, raw and unedited chapter
of CORRUPTED
a serial ebook by Omar Tyree
on Friday, August 5th
and the Friday after that
and the Friday after that . . .
Then leave your comments @ www.OmarTyree.com . . .