Flat-Chested Runner

By Verity Rayne

“If you catch me,” she said, “you can have sex with me.” Nelly didn’t give me any special tips on how to train for a half-marathon. She just took off all her clothes, pulled on her running shoes, and told me to chase her. The rest was up to me. I didn’t know if she was serious, if she would let me claim her slender body, let me slide my hands over her flat chest as we screwed like animals. But it was all the motivation I needed. So I followed her up the trail, not knowing where it would lead—

This 6,234-word erotic stand-alone story has adult content that is not recommended for readers under 18.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Verity Rayne
• Release date: Dec 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310971686

Verity Rayne

The only daughter of an accountant and a dentist, Verity decided to take a very different career path - one that took her through the dank forest of erotic literature. Forever perverted by what she experienced there, she now lives as an author in Santa Cruz, spinning steamy yarns about the lust thrumming beneath flat chests.

Book preview

Flat-Chested Runner

By Verity Rayne

Copyright 2015 Verity Rayne

Distributed By Smashwords

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This is a work of adult fiction which contains explicit descriptions of sexual activity involving fictitious characters. All characters, including the flat-chested women described, are over the age of 18. This story is not for readers who are under 18. This eBook is not to be shared, re-sold, re-copied, or republished, in whole or in part, without the author=s express written consent. Thank you and enjoy your story.

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EXCERPT

He squeezes my ass. He grabs me roughly, but not too hard, just enough to tug some of the short fabric from between my cheeks. He lets it go, allowing it to slide between once more. I gasp into another kiss, his hands roaming over every rise and valley of my backside. He stirs me like one of his creations, my sex sizzling against his stove of a body, my juices bubbling over into a deep, rolling boil. He’s taking control, turning my athleticism to his own seductive purposes. But, just when the last of my resistance starts to fail, I smell myself. I put my hands on his shoulders.

Just—just let me take a shower first. He grabs my wrist in a cuff of flesh.

"No. His seriousness catches me off-guard. Before I know it, he’s lifted my arm over my head and smeared his face into my armpit. He’s never done this before. I don’t expect his tongue to feel so good there, but goddammit, it does. Ohh—" Our hands part, and my arm falls around his head. I get the urge to grab him harder, flexing my lean muscles, but I’m so sweaty that he slips out of my grip. His head squirts out from under my armpit, and we share a salty kiss.

See? he pants, his forehead pressed against mine. "You taste fantastic - like a succulent little clam."

I don’t believe him