Home Run

Katie Kush and Coach Siri Dahl been fucking in secret for months. The kind of dirty that makes you grin like a guilty sinner when you think about it during practice. Every stolen second feels charged. Katie gets wet just thinking about what they’ll do once everyone clears out. Today she jogs back to Siri’s place already throbbing with need. Siri wastes no time. She lugs a bat into the bedroom and gives Katie that crooked smile that means trouble. “Strip.” Katie peels off her uniform fast, leaving cleats and socks on the floor. Siri’s eyes rake over her, and Katie’s nipples tighten under the stare. She palms the bat like a prize, tilting the smooth wood toward the bed. Katie crawls on hands and knees, ass up, waiting. The bat comes between her thighs first, cool against burning skin, then slick with spit from Siri’s mouth. One slow push. Katie gasps as the rounded tip parts her folds and slides deeper, stretching her wide. The pressure steals her breath. Siri works it in rhythm with her voice, low and filthy, telling Katie exactly how pretty she looks getting fucked by it. When the bat is slick all the way, Siri pulls it free and replaces it with her thick fingers, two then three, curling hard against that spongy spot inside. Katie bucks and swears. Siri smacks her ass, adds her tongue between the other cheeks, and Katie’s thighs shake. It isn’t enough until Siri mounts her from behind, strapping a heavy dildo over her hips and slamming it in at a punishing angle. The room fills with the wet sound of flesh meeting flesh and the ragged little cries Katie can’t hold back. Siri wraps a fist in her hair, fucks her harder, bat still glinting nearby like evidence of sin. When Katie finally comes it rolls through her whole body, thighs quaking, vision white. She collapses face-down, still twitching, while Siri traces lazy circles over the welts on her ass. They’re both already wondering what illegal shit they’ll invent for next practice.