Going The Distance porn pics gallery

Jane took her training seriously dead serious. Every punch, every skip, every drop of sweat was fuel for the upcoming title fight. But even the most disciplined fighters have their breaking points, and lately the tension had been coiling tighter inside her than the wraps around her fists. She was in the middle of shadowboxing when the gym door swung open. Brian stepped in, gym bag slung over one broad shoulder, his long dark hair already halftied back in that messy way that always made her pulse kick harder. He wore a faded black tank that clung to every ridge of his chest and abs, sweatpants hanging low on narrow hips. Jane''s eyes tracked him instantly. She''d been watching him for weeks the way he moved, quiet confidence, controlled power. Tonight something snapped. She dropped her gloves, walked straight over without a word. Brian noticed the shift in her immediately. That hungry glint in her eyes wasn''t about sparring. %u201CRough day?%u201D he asked, voice low, already smirking. %u201CRough month,%u201D she corrected, stepping close enough that her sports bra brushed his chest. %u201CNeed to let go. Right now.%u201D No hesitation. She grabbed the hem of his tank and yanked it up, exposing the hard planes of his stomach. Brian let her, arms lifting so she could peel the shirt off completely. Her palms slid over his skin %u2013 hot, slightly damp from the walk over tracing the V that disappeared into his waistband. She didn''t ask permission when she hooked her fingers into the elastic and shoved his sweats down just enough. There, in the dim corner of the empty gym, under the buzz of flickering fluorescents, she freed him. He was already thickening in her hand, heavy and warm. Jane dropped to her knees on the worn mats, lips parting as she took him in slowly, savoring the low groan that rumbled out of his throat. Brian''s fingers threaded into her short, sweat-damp hair, not forcing, just guiding. After a minute he pulled her up, spun her around, pressed her chest to the padded wall. Her leggings came down in one rough tug. She braced her forearms against the padding, ass arched back toward him. Brian didn''t tease. He lined up and sank in deep with one steady thrust, filling her completely. Jane''s breath punched out in a sharp moan. They moved hard and fast no romance, no slow build, just raw need. Skin slapped against skin, echoing off the concrete walls. His hands gripped her hips, thumbs digging into the muscle there while she pushed back to meet every stroke. Sweat ran down her spine, mixing with his. She reached between her thighs, fingers circling fast, chasing the edge she''d been denying herself for weeks. Brian leaned over her back, lips at her ear. %u201CLet it go, Jane. Fucking let it all go.%u201D That did it. Her whole body locked, thighs trembling as the orgasm ripped through her sharp, blinding, almost angry. She cried out, loud enough that it bounced around the empty space. Brian followed seconds later, hips stuttering, burying himself deep as he came with a rough grunt. They stayed locked together for long moments, breathing ragged, hearts hammering. Finally he eased out, turned her gently, kissed her once slow this time, almost tender. %u201CBetter?%u201D he murmured against her mouth. She gave a tired, satisfied laugh. %u201CFor now.%u201D They cleaned up quickly, shared a bottle of water, then went back to their separate corners like nothing had happened. But the tension in her shoulders was gone, and when she started hitting the bag again, every punch felt lighter. Sometimes the best warm-up isn''t in the ring. It''s right here, on dirty mats, with someone who knows exactly how hard you need to break.