Fucking Ashley Wright

Before you know it, both plates lie empty, you’ve covered the bill (if you’re reading this situation any close to right, you’re happy to foot this one), and you’re standing out in the sunlight outside Leoncavallo’s blinking slightly at the brightness.

“Ugh, get the sun out of my eyes,” Ashley says. “I shoulda brought my sunglasses out here.”

“I know a place that’s nice and dark,” you say. “It’s cool, out of the way of the sun, and happens to contain a bedsheet or two.”

“That sounds heavenly right now,” she says, and then, after a moment: “Lead the way!”

Seconds after entering your room, Ashley drops her duffel on the ground, where it lands with a thump. She gives it a quick look, and then peeks back over her shoulder at you.

“So, how kinky do you wanna get? We could strip like this, or we could…” She pauses for a moment, running her tongue over her lips. “We could do it in our kits.”

“Call me back tomorrow when you’ve looked up kinky in the dictionary. This is weak sauce,” you tease, and she whips around, placing a hand on your chest.

“A strong man dressed up in his uniform, finally pinning down the **** vixen who’s been dogging him all day,” she says, grabbing hold of your shirt and pulling you in. “That not kinky enough for you?”

“Hey, I held up decently on the pitch. But yes, kinky enough,” you say with raised hands, conceding her point.

“Whatever you say,” she snorts, tossing off her shirt. You barely have a second to admire her shapely tits before she slips on the soccer jersey. Without a sports bra on, you see two thick nipples protruding through her shirt, and you give that juicy ass a firm squeeze, but she slaps your hand away.

“You have to change too,” she says, and while you fumble with your clothes, she mutters to herself. “Clueless guys.”

You get there eventually, the Stonewall Grey shirt sitting loose over your body. It still carries the musk of sweat, but Ashley pays it no mind, pulling you onto the bed as you slip on protection.

“Fuck me, fuck me the way Stonewall’s gonna get fucked the next time you face us,” she says, grabbing your semi-stiff cock.

“This is such bullshit,” you groan, pulling off her shorts. {if SoccerScore1 == 3}“I’ll fuck you like you got fucked over today.”{else}”Today was just a fluke, next time it’ll be us fucking you over.”{endif}

“Then prove it, big boy,” she says, and you do, lining up with her folds and pushing into the slickness. It turns out the “kinky” talk was foreplay enough. Her pussy is lubricated, you slide in deep, and she moans, grabbing hold of your shirt again.

“How do you like this now?” you say, pinning her chest to the bed as you thrust into her. “Can’t run away from me now, can you?”

“Why would I need to? It’s not like you could tackle me anyways,” she goads, and so you respond with a pounding so hard she goes “OH!”, her fit frame sliding up the bed. “That was a tackle,” she says quietly, her eyes now squeezed shut, savouring the way your cock is sawing through her.

You carry on the rough pounding, feeling the bed-frame shiver each time you fuck her, and she rocks back against you, eyes still closed, muttering small exclamations. Suddenly, her eyes pop open.

“So, Helen and Mal, huh,” she says, and you freeze mid-thrust, caught unaware.

“What?”

She wriggles down on your cock, reminding you to continue to fuck her, before she continues: “Say you could only fuck one of ‘em. Who would you pick?”

“I’m fucking you, why would I want to fuck either of them?” you say, continuing to slide through her pussy.

“I’m already in bed with you, there’s no need to be coy,” she says, but you hesitate for a moment, and she carries on. “Okay, fine, fine, you don’t want to tell me. But what about the girls on your team? Daphne’s quite a looker, I’m sure she’d be good in the sack—” she emphasises the last few words by thrust her hips in sync with you, sending a wave of pleasure through your loins “—or Katie and Khloe, twins have always got to be prime fantasy material. Or maybe it’s the new girls, the freshmen I assume—"

“Mars and Valentine,” you groan, and Ashley nods, rewarding your cooperation with more little hip-thrusts.

“Yes, them,” she says. “Lots of hot girls to choose from, so why don’t you take your pick?”

“Who says I can’t take them all?” you say, and the thought sends a spasm through your cock. You didn’t realise you were this close to the edge, but now you’re getting dangerously close… you slow down the pace.

“Need some time to think about who?” she smirks, noticing the change.

“You’re being wicked,” you say, enjoying the warmth as you leisurely push down into her again.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says all innocently, her wiggling hips betraying the lie.

“And so I have to punish you for that,” you say, punctuating the word with a hard thrust. She lets out a yelp in delight. I can learn your tricks, you think, and you start to pick up the pace again. “What that means… is that you’re not going to find out who I’d like to fuck.” Each emphasis is paired with a thrust.

“Fuucckkk,” Ashley moans, throwing her head back. She cums a moment later, a series of quick spasms rushing through her body. You don’t relent while she does, continuing to go hard, and when she eventually rides through it, looking a little glassy in her blue eyes, you keep going, determined to claim your satisfaction.

“Fine,” Ashley eventually says, after regaining her wits. “You’re not going to tell me your dream lay? I can work with that. Close your eyes.” She starts to close her legs when you don’t immediately oblige, and you take the cue, letting the sight of the beautiful blonde romping on the bed beneath fade to black. “But keep thrusting, that’s right.”

“So you’re not going to tell me who you want to fuck? That’s fine. Not as fun as you telling me, but fine. I want you to picture her in your head. Got it? Her face, her hair, her tits, picture her NUDE. Are you doing it?”

You nod, seeing her in your mind’s eye.

“Now imagine your fucking her right now. I’ll let you in on a secret. She likes it rough. Real rough. Just like that, that’s riiigghhht,” she says, dragging out the last word as you up the **** again, grabbing her by the hair. “Yes, she likes it rough.”

“Feel the way she bucks against you,” she says, doing exactly that. “That means she likes you, that she’s close to cumming….” Her voice sharply ascends, the word almost ending in a squeak, and you feel Ashley quivering beneath you again as you hammer hard on the spot that seems to do just the trick.

“I’ll let you… in on… something twisted,” she pants. “You’re not fucking that girl. You’re fucking Ashley Wright. And I do swear, you’re going to cum now, because if I go thrice in a row like this, I’m just being selfish.”

With that, her hips lock in with yours into a perfect rhythm, and you, so close to the edge already, are brought roaring over, your cock pumping load after hot load deep into her pussy, hot spunk splattering against the condom, your tense form pounding out those final few strands, before you collapse on top of her, head coming to a rest against her firm tits.

“That did the trick,” she mutters quietly, and a hand of hers gently pushes on your chest, rolling you off of her.

“Somehow, I feel used,” you mutter back, watching as she neatly steps off the bed and onto the ground, starting to change back into her regular outfit.

“What’s to complain about. You got a notch towards your Fifteen, didn’t you?” she asks, and you shoot her a look, mildly affronted.

“What makes you think that?”

“‘Cause it’s the same with me,” she laughs. “Maybe I’ll see you again, if you guys manage to make it to the playoffs.”

“It’s you pompous Kale assholes who should be worried,” you retort, and she only laughs again, picking up her duffel.

A moment later, she’s gone.

Ashley +100