The coach's Daddy (Patreon)

Hello all! Here comes the second commission. Hope you enjoy!

Preview:

A girl pushes through, breathing hard, skin already shining with sweat like she ran the whole way here. The coach raises his eyebrows as he sees a five foot six body of pure athletic power. Smooth caramel skin. Broad shoulders that taper hard into a tight, defined waist before flaring out into thick, powerful thighs that look like they could crack a watermelon between them. The girl turns aside for a moment to lean against the wall to recover, and Tino's eyes almost pop out of their sockets at the absolute bakery she is packing, her ass is full, round, heavy, the kind that moves when she just draws a breath. Even through the black compression shorts and the loose gray tank she has on, the cheeks clap softly with every step as she slowly approaches. Her long, silky white-dyed hair is pulled up in a high ponytail that still manages to swing past her shoulder blades. A few strands stick to the damp skin of her neck and collarbones.

She’s panting. Chest rising and falling hard under the tank. Her sports bra isn't hiding much. Everyone can see her dark nipples press faintly against the thin fabric when she bends to catch her breath. “Sorry, I’m late!” She calls out, voice bright, a little breathless, yet already grinning like being late is half the fun.

*********************

The words send a cold shiver down the man's spine as they hit something deep and raw in Tino’s skull. A primal itch flares low in his gut, the sudden, traitorous urge to drop to his knees right here on the mat and open his mouth for her. To let this twenty one year old brat with the eleven inch uncut monster between her legs use him until he can’t think straight. His asshole clenches once, empty and hungry. But he forces the feeling down hard, jaw tight, though the damage is already done. She sees it in his eyes. The girl grins wider, triumphant. Her hands slide from his collar, loop around his waist, and land on the full, soft cheeks of his ass. She digs in immediately, fingers sinking deep into the plush meat like she’s testing dough. A low whistle escapes her. “Damn, Coach. Didn’t know you were a baker too~”

***********************

The mean brat stands over him, shorts kicked off somewhere near the door, white hair swaying with every brutal snap of her hips. Both hands are locked in her coach's hair. She uses the grip like a handle, yanking his head forward to meet every thrust of the massive uncut slab of horse-meat currently destroying his throat.

THWAPTHWAPTHWAPTHWAP~

The wet, filthy sounds fill the office without mercy.

GURCKGLUCKGLUCKGUCK~

Spit ropes swing from The older man's chin to Isa's low-hanging cum-bombs every time she pulls back. Thick strings of drool coat the veined throat-stretcher, the glossy head, and the thick foreskin that keeps trying to roll forward only to be forced back again by the tight ring of Tino's lips. His nose mashes against the smooth, hairless base every time she bottoms out, and her heavy sac swings and slaps against his chin with wet, meaty impacts.