Redemption Ep. 03: Morgan Reid

**Disclaimer: The following is completely fictional and it is nothing but pure fantasy

I was on pace to deliver Clint the chapters for a new novel. My agent appreciated my work effort so much that he took me to a Brooklyn Nets game as a reward. The stadium was massive. It was a true Mecca for basketball. While I preferred Madison Square Garden, given its historic nature, the Nets had a nice stadium dedicated to the sport.

While the Milwaukee Bucks would not have been the first team, I would be clamoring to see the Nets face. It was a nice reprieve from hunching over Clint's coffee table and typing away. Court side was more than decent accommodations.

So, Clint and I got settled into our seats as the buzzer sounded for the event's start. "Thank you for this again, Clint."

"Well, I understand all the work you are putting in firsthand since it's all being done in my living room. Despite everything, you are producing a fine novel that will make plenty of money for us."

"You have given me plenty of gifts lately, so I appreciate it all. My wife may have gotten the house and all our friends in the separation, but I got you. And you are worth more than either."

"I would be touched if I were unfamiliar with your penchant for flattery."

It was nice just to get absorbed in the atmosphere. There were no songs like at Anfield, and I was nowhere near as invested in the outcome as I was in the Liverpool match, but being surrounded by people rallying for one purpose, was nice. It highlighted how connected we are despite our separate experiences. The enjoyment and bliss of getting lost in a moment were written all over the faces as I scanned the crowd. It was a pure unadulterated pleasure.

Then I noticed a woman sitting on the opposite side of the court. She was gorgeous beyond belief and decked out in Milwaukee gear. She was a sight to behold. She had a girl next door look combined with the body of an Olympian.

"Who is that?" I pointed her out to Clint.

He glanced over, "That is Morgan Reid. She is the wife of Grayson Allen on the other team."

"She sounds familiar. Where would I know her from?"

"I have no idea. She was a professional soccer player. Perhaps that is it."

"Did she make the national team?"

"I do not believe so."

"Then that can't be it." I wondered, but after a few minutes of speculating, I thought I had it, "She wrote a Player's Tribune article a few years back about being objectified as a college athlete. That's where I know her from."

"And here you are objectifying her," Clint mused.

"I would say admiring more," then I saw Morgan's ass as she turned around to walk up the steps, presumably to get something. "Never mind, that ass is the greatest thing I have ever seen."

Her legs were thick, likely from hours of training for her former profession, which only made her ass that much more of an asset. Her behind was the kind of toned that took years of dedication to sculpt into what it was, and here I was witnessing it in short shorts.

"Well, you know, there were other reasons for our attendance tonight," Clint informed me.

"Really? Like what?"

"I may have had a side bet with Morgan's husband, Grayson. And he may be losing horribly on that bet to the tune of a million or so."

"Jesus, Clint, what sort of racket are you running?"

"Assuming you do not want to be implicated in my underground bookkeeping, I'll ignore that. But let's say his losses are compounding. The score is off. He may have bet on his shooting ability too much and a few other minor details."

"How many side hustles do you have, honestly?"

"Again, unless you would like to be implicated, I believe you would prefer I decline to answer."

"Fair enough, but you did bring up your bet for a reason. What was it?"

"Well, I believe Mr. Allen may be in over his head. And since you seem quite interested in his wife, and my primary source of income is your literary talent, I think there may be a deal for you and me out of this situation."

"What sort of deal?"

"Perhaps a night with the gorgeous Morgan in exchange for an expedited publishing timeline?" Clint suggested.

"You know, if I did not know better, I would think you somehow predicted this entire situation so that you could get a larger advance on the book."

"No one could have foreseen all of this. John, do not be preposterous."

"I am not hearing an outright denial, but okay. The deal sounds like one I am willing to make."

The rest of the evening, there was no mention of Morgan or any deal. Instead, I soaked up the atmosphere and took in the moment of reprieve from writing. But the next morning, while I was tapping away on my keyboard, Clint interrupted my flow.

"Tonight, you have a dinner date with Morgan at SAGA. You are to meet her at six on the dot."

"Wait, you arranged that?"

"Of course I did. We made a deal. I will discuss the new timeline with you tomorrow when you get home from your night with Morgan. She has a room booked for you two after your dinner chat."

"And her husband agreed to all of this?"

"He did not have much of a choice. If he paid the money he owed, the NBA would have had to suspend him for gambling. There was no way he could hide that sum. This was the only agreement where everyone could win."

"Well, I am glad that me getting laid was a solution then," I laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all.

After I got to a point where I could stop my work, I made sure to wear my most impressive ensemble. Unfortunately, since I did not have a closet as I used to, which meant a royal blue sports jacket, white shirt, and pants that matched the jacket would have to do.

So I burst onto the scene of SAGA, an upscale restaurant much more Clint's taste than mine, but dinner was just the prelude. When I got to the host, he knew who I was before I opened my mouth. Clint must have arranged everything down to the air we were breathing. "Good evening Mr. Keyes. Your date has already been seated."

The worst part was that my host had out-dressed me quite noticeably. He had a tuxedo, and all I could muster up was something barely passable for a high school prom. And, of course, I knew I had been thoroughly outclassed once I was standing over Morgan, and she stood up to greet me in an immaculate red dress that sparkled brightly. She even had these big dangling earrings with rubies paired with maroon lipstick. She looked scorching.

"Welcome to your table Mr. Keyes," The host left me to my own devices as Morgan extended her hand to me.

I placed her hand in mine and made a show of kissing the back of it. "You know you are five minutes late. I thought your agent told you on the dot."

"He did," my lips pulled away from her, and I pushed her in after she retook her seat. "I just had trouble finding anything suitable to wear, thus my current attire."

I took my seat across from this athletic beauty. All she gave me in response was a hollow death gaze. It was not hatred, but perhaps disdain was more like it. Morgan was reluctant to be here. That much was plain.

"So, tell me, what kind of guy are you? What sort of person sees another man's wife and thinks I have to tap that to the point of using leverage to do just that?"

"Can I get you both something to drink?" The waiter interrupted us before I could reply, but all things considered, that was welcomed. I needed the added time to think up a response.

"We will each take water and a bottle of your most expensive wine. Thank you!"

Morgan shooed the waiter away, clearly burning to have her question answered.

"Well, I saw your butt from the other side of the court and mentioned it to Clint. Then this all got arranged. I never requested it or anything. Clint did this all on his own."

"However, you did not refuse. You are happy to have me anyway it comes."

"I suppose there is no denying that," our glasses of water arrived. "But I am hardly the first man to notice you. You even wrote in your article that all your photos ended up on blogs one day declaring you a hottie."

"You read that?" Morgan took a sip before continuing. "Then you also know how all that attention made me feel, like how I looked was all that mattered."

I had to admit. She had me there. Even Clint mentioned how I objectified her despite reading about how that made her uncomfortable. But in my defense, I was not doing this on purpose. It just developed this way. I cannot say that to her without having water thrown in my face.

"I do, and that is why this chance to get to know you over dinner is an excellent opportunity for us to understand each other before doing the physical things."

I could see Morgan's guard lowering. She had not quite thawed from my warmth but was at least not openly confrontational. Even her face told a different story now. The contempt that added stress around her eyes and her nose scrunching was relaxed now. She was not quite open to me but not hostile, either.

"Fair enough. I suppose we can make the best of this. It is not like Grayson is blameless anyway. He should not have been gambling in the first place, not when his career was at stake. If I could still play professionally, I would never have put it on the line like him."

"What made you hang up your boots, if you do not mind me asking?"

"I had a hip injury, and it required surgery. It was already a strain on our marriage that we had to play in two separate cities for most of the year. So when I was laid up for a year with surgery and rehab, getting back into it did not make sense for where my life was."

"But you do miss playing, right?"

"Of course I do. I wanted to play for the senior national team one day, but some things did not go as planned. And that is okay."

"That is a very mature approach. And you are at least fifteen years younger than me. So, kudos to you. I am still reeling from my divorce. My wife and I were together for twenty years. I am not ready to move past all that baggage, but you seem to do it gracefully."

A hint of a smile came across Morgan's face before it vanished. I was breaking through her hard shell; all it took was being genuine. I suppose honesty is the best policy, after all. Looking back, if Priscilla and I had been more straightforward with one another, the pregnancy misunderstanding would never have occurred. We would have been on the same page.

"I appreciate that. You know you are not what I expected." The bottle of wine arrived, disrupting the flow.

"This is Andremily Sarah, No. 8," The waiter laid the groundwork before uncorking it for us and pouring us each a glass. "Enjoy."

We clinked our glasses together in a toast, "To new friends amidst haphazard circumstances." The two of us gulped our drinks after my ad hoc cheer.

"Now, what were you expecting exactly?" I attempted to play coy but suspected I had failed.

Morgan smirked slyly, inspecting me before elaborating, "Frankly, I thought you would be a pig. But you are, dare I say, a bit charming."

I felt my lips curl to her compliment. "Good to know I'm only a bit charming. I would not want to overwhelm you after all."

"I would not want any praise to go to your head. Because then you would be a pig again."

"Fair enough. I will try to manage my ego, but you must promise me you will not feel guilty or hesitant about tonight."

"I came here intending to have a good time, believe me. My motto is if you cannot beat them, join them. So, let's get down to brass tacks. What turns you on in the bedroom?"

"Wow, walking the line between brash and bold, are we? Let me think, well, what do you like guys to do to you? Is there anything I can do that your husband will not?"

The waiter stopped us mid-conversation to collect our orders, which Morgan hastily ordered for us. She had her eye on the ball. We were going to get in and get out without too much dawdling. Morgan was an all-action kind of heroine.

"I think it works best when two people have sex if they focus on what brought them together in the first place. And to that end, my ass got us here, so I think anal is on the dessert menu, if you get me?"

I felt all my wine almost burst past my lips as a coughing fit tore through me from choking on my drink. "Sorry about that. And that sounds like something I could sign up for."

"All guys like head, so I thought I could give you some. At least until you get hard. Does that sound good?"

"I should stop drinking until this conversation is over," I joked with her. "But that sounds amicable indeed."

"I have killer core strength. So I can ride you for a very, very long time. Is that something you might enjoy?"

"I would very much like that. You have no clue."

"Oh, I think I might," at that moment, I felt something touch my crotch, and since both her hands were above the table, that only left her feet. She was playing footsie with my package. And no one would be the wiser with the tablecloth and the direct eye contact we were making. The only giveaway would be if our faces changed or if we made any unusual sounds.

"I am a bit taken aback by your willingness in this arrangement."

"This is the best in a narrow pool of options, plus you are not bad looking. So, there are certainly ways this could have gone worse."

Morgan's foot awakened my dormant desire, and I felt my cock hardening. This woman may have had reservations when I arrived, but now she was properly pleasuring me. It was a refreshing change of pace.

Her teasing continued throughout dinner, but no one noticed. Or at least they had the courtesy to ignore us. I admit I had trouble cutting up my food with Morgan poking around down there, but I persevered, given what was on offer. Part of me believed she did this to annoy me since I forced her into this situation. Another side of me felt that her reactions to me were genuine.

Either way, we struggled, or instead, I endured through dinner before making our way to the private room Morgan booked. Immediately the glass wall with luxurious curtains, the white carpet, and the large heart-shaped bed tell me this accommodation was chosen with the correct intentions. This was a room designed for fucking.

"I am going to freshen up. Why don't you get situated?" Morgan suggested. She stopped at the bathroom entryway and turned to look over her shoulder at me while biting her lip. The college soccer maverick smacked her ass with a loud crack before shutting the door to my peering eyes.

I plopped down on the center of the bed. After undoing my belt and tossing my shoes off, I wiggled out of my pants and unbuttoned my shirt. My clothes were in a pool on the ground off to the side. All I had on were my boxers as the door opened to unveil the beautiful Morgan.

Standing in the doorway was a woman of pure sexual temptation. She had on knee-high black stockings strapped to black crotchless lace panties. Her top was a matching lace corset top. There was a diamond-shaped cutout for her belly button and thinner fabric to show off her marvelous breasts. Considering how shredded this woman was, she had abnormally large tits.

"Did you get a tit job?" I could not believe that question had escaped my mouth.

"Nope, all-natural, babe." Morgan was cheery and flirtatious in her reply despite my boldness.

"Well fuck, just fuck. You're five times hotter without clothes, and you were already a nine or ten."

"Yup, and you get to fuck all this," Morgan twirled and modeled her outfit in all its glory.

I could feel myself getting excited already, and when I looked down, I saw a noticeable tent in my boxers because of Morgan. This woman was working wonders.

As Morgan approached the edge of the bed, her ogling of the tent grew more blatant. "Considering how tall my husband is, you're going to be a short king by comparison. And from what I know, that means a better blood flow and a harder dick."

Then, she parted my boxers at the seams and peeled the fabric to the sides as my erect member rose from behind the fold. Her finger glided up the side of my shaft, past the veins and all. She admired my dick from base to tip, tracing every inch.

"You are not as big as Grayson, but yours is thick and harder than he gets."

"So, it meets your standards then?"

"Like I had much of a choice," Morgan scoffed. "Guess I should suck it now, huh?"

I put my hand behind my head and smirked from ear to ear. Morgan got the cue. The brunette leaned forward and kissed the tip of my cock, leaving a red mark of lipstick on my dick head. Then she swallowed my sword in one go. She started accepting my girth quickly before slowing down after about halfway down. Eventually, I could feel my penis wedged in her throat as her lips touched my groin. My almost seven inches of length was fully engulfed now. And my balls were exposed, but the rest of my reproductive system was taken care of.

After a couple of slight head bobs where Morgan came off my groin an inch before pressing back down on me, the girl came up for air.

"That was a good warm-up," Morgan huffed. "And I appreciate swallowing something under ten inches for a change."

Morgan strutted over to the armchair, flashing her massive behind at me the entire time. This woman had legs like tree trunks and an ass made for twerking. She was the definition of a phat-ass-white girl. She put one leg up on the arm of the chair and leaned over, showing her pussy to me as she lunged forward and looked back toward me with an inviting wink.

"You ready to take my asshole?" Morgan teased.

I got up and knew my dick was standing at attention. At this point, it was almost at a ninety-degree angle, and I think Morgan had gotten me so erect that I had an additional inch of length from what was typical.

I pulled my boxers off, which was very difficult considering how much I had expanded down there, but my cock flung upward after my boxers were removed. I left my boxers to the wayside as I rushed toward Morgan. One hand gripped her hip for balance while the other slapped her ass loudly. I grabbed her left butt cheek in my hand and could feel the pure muscle that comprised her rear end.

"I can't believe I get to fuck this ass."

"Seeing is believing, dear. And seven inches is the max I'll let in there. So, you are just tall enough to ride this ride."

My hand guided my cock to the periphery of her butt, and then I gently inserted it inside her. I could feel her tense up in response to my dick entering from behind. It was about the tightest thing I had ever put my penis inside.

I seesawed in and out of her, getting clumsier with each thrust before we moaned and shook the chair with abandon. Morgan had to have killer muscles to keep upright as I brutalized her asshole from behind, repeatedly slapping my balls against her back end. My cock twitched as my balls seized up.

"I know you recently got divorced, so if you want to nut now, I will let you cum in my pussy later too."

That was the permission I needed to pull her closer to my groin and shoot inside her. So, my cock lodged just a bit deeper before I blew inside her. I stuffed her full of my goo with several blasts and grunts before I slipped out of her ass. I then fell back onto the bed. My seed leaked from her butt while she looked down to assess the damage.

"Sitting down is gonna hurt tomorrow, huh?" Morgan smirked.

She then sauntered to the bathroom and returned with a rubber in hand a moment later. She tore the packet open before getting on her knees and placing the condom in her mouth so she could engulf my penis again. Sure enough, as she swallowed me whole, the protection also rolled down my entire length.

Her mouth came off me, and she rose to her feet before pressing my chest onto the bed and climbing over me. She angled my cock just right so she could sit on me, mounting me in the process.

"So you read my article?" Morgan questioned me as she began to bounce on my dick.