‘I can’t stop thinking about you, wanting you,’ he admitted, slowly tracing the curve of my breasts. The truth was the same for me. I couldn’t...get the smell of him, the feel of him out of my head. I was afraid of getting too lost in him, but I couldn’t help it. ‘I want you, Darrel,’ I breathed, changing my position to straddle him. God he was so hard already, I could feel his dick fighting to break free against his slacks. He grabbed my waist, holding it tight, rocking me a little. I could. Danny's training mostly consisted of working at his other job, being a sparring partner for the boxing gym he frequented. He usually made from twenty-five to thirty dollars for a half hour's sparring session, and he usually had anywhere from five to eight sessions during any given week.Most of the people he sparred with were strictly amateur boxers, men who liked to go back to their regular lives, bragging that they had sparred with a real, professional, boxer.Danny knew better than to ever hit. More

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