Page 97 of Small Town Hunter

I rub my titties on his chest because he seems to like that. He changes the angle of his wrist.

“Mm! Crash…” I hold onto his jeans, tugging at the button.

“Na…not yet.” He flips me on my back and dips low. Doing that thing he did some nights before, using his tongue to smear me all over myself.

“Crash!”

“Shush…”

The only time he stops sucking my button is when I forget myself and grab too close to the stitches on his head. He doesn’t make a sound, just goes stiff for a second. I whip my hand off his head and what he does next takes away my apology like a fast wind.

Still sucking the tip between my legs that makes me want to burst like a ripe peach all in his mouth, he starts sliding those two fingers up inside me at the same time and hitting the door to some deep inner chamber.Knock-knock.I’m moaning and rocking until I really do burst.

The creamysomethingcoming out of me spatters his lips. He curses and starts jerking at his jeans; licking every drop off my thighs while I try in my embarrassment to push him away.

“No, no hiding,” he says roughly. “Now you’re ready for it.”

Crash rears over me. The jeans come off. The boxers are black cotton. I stare at the shape of his sex organ, his penis.

I scrabble up in panic. “Crash, it won’t fit.”

“You don’t know that. Lie back,” he orders.

Trust him. Let him lead.

His hand strokes my stomach like the finest velvet.

“Trina. I won’t touch you now. You’re gonna touch yourself. Calm down some.”

Just like when I was alone. Only this time no hiding. There’s nothing to hide. Crash wants to see it all. And I feel no shame…and the fear dissolves.

I lie back, finding his gaze.

While I do my thing he slides the boxers down his powerful legs.

Hypnotized, I watch Crash’s manhood rock out towards me. It’s big, dark red at the tip like a plum, and thick as a tree root. His hand wraps around its length and starts a slow, smooth motion. A push, a pull, pleasuring himself. I know that because his breathing deepens, and the touch of his free hand grows hungrier, groping my breasts, flicking the tip of pleasure in my privates that turns me all electric.

“Now?” I whisper.

“Not yet.”

Six feet and six inches of pure muscle and power lean over me. I reach up and touch his stomach, with its nap of dark hair making an arrow to his erect organ. I touch all the way up until I reach his broad chest and the powerful muscles there. His hand, still fixed on his own sin, brushes against my arm.

“What did they do in the video?” he asks.

“He sucked her titties…”

“What else?”

“She sucked his penis. His dick.” I sit up on my elbows again, confused by his expression. “Is that wrong?” I ask curiously.

“Sucking my cock? That’s like a level three.”

“What are we on now?”

“One.”

“Wouldn’t ‘one’ be kissing?”

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