My Second Chance – Secret Baby Read Online Natasha L. Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
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Graham pulled the covers down so we could get under them and then settled himself between my thighs. I was soaking wet and ready for him as he pulled my panties off and tossed them away. As he pressed the head of his thick, throbbing cock at the opening of my pussy, I reached up to pull him into a deep kiss.

Then he was inside me.

My body tensed at first, and he held himself there, waiting for me to adjust to him. I cried out as the line between pain and pleasure blurred before he began to rock gently. Soon, my body relaxed, and his thrusting grew more intense, our bodies slick with sweat despite the cold. He kissed my neck and grunted with effort, and the sound was so primal, so raw, that it only made me hungrier for him.

He flipped onto his back, and I mounted him, my hands running across the muscles of his chest and stomach. I settled on his pecs, using them to hold me up as I rode him, and his hands wrapped around my hips. He guided me in long, slow motions until I began to pick up speed. Then his hands reached back to grasp my ass while I closed my eyes. Soon I was bouncing wildly, grinding furiously as my unhinged carnality took over.

I couldn’t bear it any longer as I was nearing the explosive sensation of an incredible, world-shaking orgasm. I let my voice fill the room as I cried out for it, yearning for the release that had been building for five years. His body tensed below me, and his cock throbbed.

I tumbled into a climax that made my toes curl and my body shake uncontrollably. Graham came with me, his body jerking and thrusting up as he emptied himself inside me. When I collapsed into his arms, we panted and laughed.

Graham pulled the sheets back over me as I stayed on top of him, letting my head rest on his chest.

“I love you,” he said quietly. “I always have. I’m sorry it took this long to figure it out and get to this place, but I am so glad we did.”

“Me too,” I said. “I love you too. And I am just glad we’re finally here.”

26

GRAHAM

It had been months since Mallory and I had gone to bed together for the first time in years, and we settled into the rhythm of a relationship almost immediately. I spent a lot of time at her place, but because we didn’t want Owen getting confused, we decided it was best if I still went home at night for now. But I knew that wasn’t going to be for long. Not with what I had planned. That would have to wait, though. I needed that moment to be perfect, and I was still working it out.

Another plan I had was something I was in Principal Runnels’ office now for. He had a phone meeting with the superintendent first but had invited me in to wait. As he hung up the phone, he wiped his head with his handkerchief and took a sip of the iced tea he seemed to perennially have on his desk.

Spring was almost here in Murdock, and that meant the heat was coming with it. The winter months could get cold, but by March, it was heating up again.

“Thank you for waiting, Graham,” Runnels said. “What can I do for you? Is coaching going well?”

“Coaching is going great, thanks,” I said. “Some of the boys have real potential. I think our winter league really helped development.”

“Good to hear, good to hear,” he said, taking another deep glug of his tea. “Man, it’s hot already. Anyway, what’s up? You mentioned you had an idea you wanted to run past me.”

“Yes,” I said. “I was thinking—you said you used to play baseball, right?”

“Starting second baseman in college,” he said proudly. “I was damn good before I broke my leg skiing my junior year. Never quite recovered from that.”

“Ah, well,” I said. “I’m sure you could still hit if you wanted.”

Playing to his ego was going to work. I knew enough about Principal Runnels to know that. He was a sweet man, and a good principal, but if he had a weak spot, it was that he waxed rosy on his athletic days. They had been a couple of decades and a hundred pounds ago, but he tended to talk about them like they were so recent he could probably still outplay the varsity squads.

“I bet I could,” he said. “Remember the batting practice I took?”

I laughed and nodded. He had come down once very early in the spring and grabbed a bat. I had been tossing the ball to the students, not overworking my arm, but just getting some lobs over the plate, and he stepped in. He told me to send him a fastball, and I threw one probably at half speed. He cracked it deep into left where it died in the outfield, but he didn’t stop talking about it for a week.


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