The Name of the Game

Johnny can’t take his eyes off Teanna once she steps out. She’s wearing a tight football jersey and nothing underneath, the fabric stretching across her breasts, clinging to every curve. He played the game, yet this girl makes the sport feel brand-new. Her dark skin glows against the white cloth, her long brown hair loose and wild. The way she moves—hips swaying, eyes locked on him—turns him rock hard. He reaches out, grabs the hem of her jersey, and pulls her close. Their mouths meet, hungry, while his hands slide beneath the fabric to cup her bare ass. Teanna smiles against his kiss, pushes him onto the bed, and straddles him. Johnny watches her peel the jersey off one shoulder, then the other, until her small tits and tight nipples are free. She grinds against the hard line in his pants, teasing, testing. He pulls her down, tongue flicking over one nipple, then sucking it deep. Her moans fill the room. Teanna pops the button on his jeans and frees his cock, stroking the thick length once, twice, before sinking down onto it. Johnny grips her hips and thrusts up hard. She rides him with easy rhythm, back arched, taking every inch. He flips her onto her knees, slaps her ass, then drives in deep from behind. The jersey lies crumpled on the floor. The only sound left is skin meeting skin and the soft, wet pull of her body around his.