Fifty Shades of Lust {Steamiest Short Stories}
Then I spotted him.
Off the main path, on a bench, stretching one leg up—late thirties, maybe forty, white, built thick and solid like he actually used his body for something real. Gray tank drenched, sticking to his pecs. Black shorts hugging those thighs, and when he leaned into the stretch—Jesus Christ—the fabric stretched tight over his bulge. Thick outline, heavy hang even soft. My pussy spasmed hard, a deep, greedy clench that sent slick heat rushing down. My clit pulsed once, twice, like it was begging already. Thighs turned slippery inside five seconds.
I faltered mid-step. Slowed to a jog, then a walk.