Billy's Baby - Annie J. Rose Page 0,13
I’d replace them with my cock, big and hard, and I’d drag her to the edge of the bed by her bare legs and drape those legs over my shoulders. I’d drive into her deep and hard, take her fully, feeling the tremor in her legs as she struggled to stretch and take all of me in. I’d stroke her belly, gentle her and then rub her clit with my thumb, making her wetter so I could slide more easily. And because I liked the hot wetness all over my shaft as I plunged into her, her tight pussy gripping me, clamping down on me until I spilled faster than I meant to.
Just then I came, spurts of hot cum dripping off my hand and covering my stomach. I wanted her so much. I still was half hard and yearning for her. I kept stroking because I couldn’t resist. This time I imagined us hiking together, me backing her up into a tree and lifting her leg around my hip, fucking her there, fast and urgent. I was hard again in no time. I had to go again before I finally fell asleep.
Chapter 7
Morgan
Bright and early, I turned up at the beach where Brendan O’Shea was teaching a surfing lesson. Not surprisingly, it was all women who showed up. And they were all wearing waterproof mascara and cute bikinis. Not exactly dressed for serious watersports. I had to admit that Billy had made a good point about O’Shea genes. Brendan was damn fine to look at too.
It had been obvious that the two guys behind the bar last night had been Billy’s brothers even before he indicated which were his relatives. Some of them had darker hair or were an inch or two shorter, but all were big, muscular, handsome men. I wondered playfully if the Navy SEALs had ever thought to sell a calendar featuring those boys. It would’ve sold like hotcakes. I smiled at the thought of shirtless Billy in low-slung camouflage pants and combat boots. This image was one I’d have to save for later, because my whole body lit up like a barrage of twinkle lights flashing on at Christmas. I smiled at myself ruefully. Of course it had to be some local player that turned me on. It couldn’t be someone sensible and local to where I was based. Or better yet, no one at all. I needed to concentrate on making and saving money, learning more about successful blogging so I could launch my dream career. Fantasizing about some hot boy toy who lived in the Caribbean and hiked for a living was the opposite of what I needed to be doing.
Right now, I was gathering info for my article that centered around these five extraordinary men—patriots and heroes who retired to enjoy the Jimmy Buffet lifestyle. Unplugged and tuned in to nature, the rhythms of the sea, I tapped into my phone as I waited for the lesson to begin. I cataloged Brendan’s physical traits and his mannerisms, a bit more diffident than Billy, less of a turn-on-the-charm guy. He was sincere and a bit serious, less playful. A quieter kind of sexiness, I thought. Then I reminded myself the man had a wife and child and I was here to write an article, not dry hump my surfing instructor. I swallowed hard.
He gave the safety speech. Asked us all if we had experience surfing and that sort of thing. I had taken lessons a couple of other places and could paddle out and stand up on the board capably, but I was no expert. Before I knew it, we were in the water. Brendan’s affable presence was right at our shoulders, giving advice on timing and balance. His instruction was personalized and specific and I knew he helped me improve my stance and confidence during the lesson. It was well worth the time and money to work with an instructor whose understanding and flexibility were as great as his technical knowledge. Also I wouldn’t have minded a private lesson where he helped me fix my posture by riding tandem with me, I thought, keeping that naughty idea to myself. But when I shut my eyes for a second, it wasn’t the married Brendan I pictured, but Billy O’Shea with his bare hands on my sides, his thumbs on the curve of my back. I sucked in my breath at the idea of that sensation, at how damn good it would feel to