Falling Into Routine
Copyright© 2025 by ChillWriter338
Chapter 4: The Comeback
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 4: The Comeback - Childhood friends looking for true love and ready to start a family deny how perfect a couple they would make together by getting as close as possible. The secret plan to keep from falling into each other's arms - follow the same routine. Re-write so read from the beginning.
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction FemaleDom Light Bond Polygamy/Polyamory Black Male Hispanic Female Masturbation Oral Sex Voyeurism Big Breasts Size 2nd POV Slow
Her Story, From My Window
Carla spent most of her 14-year Navy career overseas. She was the kind of officer people didn’t forget—sharp, fearless, and impossible to ignore. She left after a training accident collapsed one of her lungs. She recovered physically, but losing three of her closest friends—fellow career-track officers—made her reconsider everything.
She came home. Moved back in with Mama Caceres. Refocused on family. On healing.
She still hasn’t married. No kids. Part of it, I think, is that Carla scares the hell out of most men.
Including me.
Five-foot-one, maybe 116 pounds dripping wet. Built like a gymnast but moved like a panther. She’s got multiple black belts, absurd flexibility, and a mouth that could put half the Navy to shame. I’ve seen grown men flinch at her glare.
I used to joke she was a stripper pretending to be an officer. She’d roll her eyes, punch my shoulder, and mutter, “Coño, Eli...” under her breath. But I wasn’t lying. The woman couldn’t hide her curves if she tried.
Full breasts that don’t seem to understand gravity, a tiny waist that flows into hips made for sin, and legs that don’t seem to fit on her compact frame—but somehow make perfect sense when she moves.
She’s also got fists like wrecking balls and the tactical mind to back them up.
No one underestimates Carla twice. The second time usually ends with an ice pack and a broken ego.
Back in Sync
I outweigh her by nearly a hundred pounds, and she still makes me earn every inch when we spar. I only win by brute strength and leverage—and even then, she bruises me good.
When she moved back, it was like no time had passed. Within days, we were back in sync. Laughing. Training. Watching trashy TV. Sneaking breakfast at each other’s place depending on who had fruit or coffee stocked.
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