Page 37 of Resistance Training

“I fed Hairy Styles his wet food first.”

I groan. “Fuck, your tits are amazing.”

“Thank you. How’s your kitty doing?”

I play with her nipples and then massage her breasts. “Bella. She’s great. I let her out of her room for a little bit.”

“Oh my God,” she exhales, for not-cat reasons. “Brad.” She clenches around my cock, and it is pure heavenly torture. After a minute, she continues. “Are you really calling her Bella?”

“I am… So, you took a shower, dried off your silky smooth skin, and then thought to yourself, I’ll just put on these V-string panties and a crop top in case my old friend Bradley shows up all in his feelings and I can punish him by being the hottest woman he’s ever known ?”

She blows out a laugh. “Pretty much.”

“See, this is one of the main reasons I like you so much.” I pull away from her, my cock bouncing up as I spin her around to face me.

“You are diabolical.” Pressing my hands against the wall on either side of her head, caging her in, I lean in to kiss her.

She does the best, friendliest thing ever and reaches down to stroke and cup the parts of me that really need to be handled right now.

Then she does a mean thing. She stops stroking and cupping and kissing me so she can pull my shirt up over my head and run her hands all over my pecs and abs. “You are so beautiful, Bradley.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“No. You are. You know that, right?”

I wrestle her sweatshirt off over her head and stare at her tits.

“Yeah.” I dip down to kiss them. Suck her nipple into my mouth, because that is exactly where it needs to be.

In my mouth. I need to figure out a way for us to have productive lives day-to-day while her nipple is in my mouth.

This is exactly what I was afraid of—this overwhelming need to be in her and on her and with her all the time.

And I’m just gonna lean into the obsession.

“Bradley, I want to make sure you understand how amazing it is that you did this for yourself. Do you?”

I can’t think or see straight, much less use my mouth for talking about my body. I give her other nipple some attention, because I like both of them equally and I want both of them to like me. I feel drunk. I feel like a teenager. I am so in love.

“Condoms?” is all I can say right now.

“Bedroom. I ordered those the same night I ordered the panties,” she says.

You are so, so perfect is what I’m thinking as I lift her up and carry her to the bedroom, folded over my shoulder.

Vivian squeals, and that is perfect. I drop her onto the mattress and her tits bounce and they are perfect.

She lies back, resting on her elbows. The curves, all of them, from her collarbone down to her toes…

they’re perfect, and the lace front of those raspberry-red panties are perfect, and I pull them down her legs and place them at the end of the bed, because they are tiny and special and must not be lost, not ever.

And then I find a condom packet in the drawer of her bedside table, roll it on, ask, “Where’s Hairy Styles?”

“Probably under the bed in the guest room.”

“Ah.” And then I grab her ankles, yank her closer to me and the edge of the mattress, flip her onto her stomach, grip her hips, pulling her up onto her knees and elbows, and push into her.

Hard. We both cry out from the sudden shock of it.

So tight. So perfect. I wait for her to exhale a loud sigh, accept the way I fill her up, before pressing on her back, encouraging her to lie flat on her stomach, and then climb on top of her.

Holding myself up, caging her between my arms, I can be closer to her as I plunge in and out.

In and out. Her amazing ass beneath me. She is languid and receptive and humming.

She presses up on her elbows, arching her back, tilting her head so it’s closer to mine.

I can lean down and say into her ear, “You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine. ”

“Yes! Bradley, yes.” She tilts her hips, puts more weight on her knees, thrusting back to meet my thrusts, so I can penetrate her at different angles, so deep, and get her screaming. This is so good for her core and her entire lower body.

“Good, baby, so good.”

Everything accelerates.

I maintain this frantic rhythm, fucking my girl and somehow maintaining my sanity because I am so focused on making her come.

On feeling those spasms around my cock, hearing her scream my name, the name she wants to call me—Brad.

I am the only Brad, the only Brad who gets to fuck her and make her come, the only man, ever, ever, ever.

Her orgasm is bold and stunning and forgiving.

She melts into the comforter, and I rock my hips gently, giving her a moment.

When she’s humming again, I grab her wrists and pin her down with my entire body weight. My legs wrap around hers. I engulf her. Dominate her entire body. She is mine, mine, mine.

She turns her head, moaning, begging for a kiss.

I kiss her and circle one arm under her neck, gripping her shoulder, pulling her closer, squeezing her tit with the other hand. “I want you in every way a man can want a woman, Vivian.”

“Yes.”

“I’m gonna take you in ways you didn’t know you could give yourself to me.”

“Good.”

“I spent a lot of years imagining all the ways I can have you, even when I didn’t want to.”

“You always wanted to.”

“Yes. Fucking yes, I never stopped. I’ll never stop.

” I’m not going to lie—there’s still resentment there, with each possessive thrust. So much resentment at her for owning me so completely, so much anger at myself for wasting so much time not having her.

It’s a savage love in this moment, and I’ll own it and surrender myself to it. Now and over and over.

I kiss her shoulder, her cheekbone. She presses herself up to meet me, that beautiful round ass welcoming and taunting me and driving me wild with desire.

Over a decade’s worth of lust for this woman is bursting forth.

She clenches around me and sends me over the edge.

Even when I’m pinning her down, she is in total control of my cock and my life.

I feel her bracing herself so I can give it all to her, and I do.

All the heat and the blinding white light and the blackness and all the stars.

Every inch and every ounce and all the fire and everything that makes me me …I give it to her.

Surrendering to this, to her, is the bravest thing I’ve ever done, and the relief is better than anything I’ve ever known.