Leasa is Cooking

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The bottom half of both succulent ass cheeks were visible. The Corona felt weightless in my hands as my mind wandered off. The beer probably could have rested on the instantly rigid boner that tented my baggy, below-the-knee cargo shorts.

If I were modest, I would have worn briefs under my pants. But I was on a mission this afternoon.

Leasa turned as she stepped off the stool and yelped in surprise at the big black man staring at her through the screen door. She quickly regained her composure and flashed a nervous smile as she came to the door, removing the headset.

“You startled me,” she said, opening the screen for me. “You’re early, Jim. Andy said you might be, but I forgot. Come on in.”

I didn’t move right away. I watched her hips swing as she walked toward the stove. She glanced back over her shoulder, her smile less flashy and more relaxed, seductive even.

“You gonna come in and put that thing down?”

I didn’t know whether she meant the beer or the erection. I was not aware that she had seen my excitement until I saw her steal a quick look and turn away.

“I brought some beer,” I said, stepping inside. “I didn’t know what else to bring. I don’t cook much, you know.”

“Sorry if I scared you,” I added.

I set the beer on a table and looked at her face. I saw this gorgeous woman’s cheeks blush and her nostrils flutter. Her eyes were focused on my dick.

“What … Oh, yeah. No, don’t apologize,” she stuttered, avoiding my eyes.

I angled my 6-foot, 3-inch body in for a closer look at the generous portion of cleavage exposed by her V-neck T-shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra. I could tell by the way the jersey bunched ever so slightly atop each erect nipple.

She backed up against the sink. When she looked at me I was smiling slyly. I knew I already had her. I think she knew it, too.

She looked away again, but her gaze panned back to my groin. I couldn’t hide it. If my shorts were not below my knees, the cause of the lump would have revealed itself. This time when she looked my hand was slowly massaging my meat through my pants.

Leasa gasped. Her face was a mixture of fright and excitement as her smile disappeared and she was breathing through her now parted lips.

“What are you doing? I think you better leave,” Leasa said, mesmerized as she watched me boldly stroking and massaging myself. But there was no resolve in her demand.

I grabbed her by the wrists and pressed against her. “I saw your picture,” I said to the top of her head. She would not look up at me.

“That bastard,” she mumbled. “Let go of me and get the hell out!” Still, she wasn’t fighting.

“I gotta check something first,” I said. I released one of her hands and before she could react, I reached under her skirt. I was surprised. From behind, standing on the stool, it appeared that she wasn’t wearing panties. Upon this closer inspection I found them, a cotton thong. It was moist with her juices.

Her firm thighs clamped on my hand as she squirmed to get free.

“I’ll scream,” she said, digging the nails of her free hand into my upper arm.

“You do and I’ll beat that pretty face of yours until you’re as ugly as your ho’ hoppin’ old man,” I said through clenched teeth.

It was an idle, unnecessary threat because she wasn’t breathing as much as she was panting against my chest. I took her hand and placed it on my hard-on, helping her close her fingers around it through my shorts.

With my other hand, I ripped the thong away, causing her to stiffen. Her mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out. Her eyes bugged, searching for a reason why, or perhaps why not.

My fingers glided over her pussy, slick with her secretions and actually hot to the touch with nary a hair. I slipped a digit between her lips. She trembled and her thighs relaxed around my hand. Her fingers squeezed my rod. Her eyes said she was genuinely scared as she realized why Andy called me Big Jim.

I slipped my finger, with some difficulty, further into her wet tunnel.

“I can’t do this,” Leasa said, her deep, blue eyes pleading with me. Her grip slackened on my dick, but now she rubbed me through my shorts, measuring me.

“We can’t. He’ll be home any minute. He’d shoot us both,” she said, breathless.

While my thumb made slow circles around her clit I leaned in to graze the skin on her neck with my thick lips and mustache.

Turning her to face the sink, I gently nibbled on her ear and whispered, “We can, and we will.”

I was dripping in anticipation as I rubbed the head of my dick up and down her slit until the head was glazed with our commingled juices. I seated the head at her opening and pushed.

“It’s not gonna fit, Jim,” Leasa groaned. I applied more pressure.

“Just let me suck you … OOFFFfff!”

Her scream tailed off as I banged the head and a few inches into her.

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