Page 98 of Small Town Hunter

“Kissing’s just practice.”

“I want to try,” I say.

“Woah, I don’t think — ” His protest dies when I get on my hands and knees.

“Aw,fuck.”

I wrap my hand around his thick base. It fills my small hand completely. He’s warm and inflexible. Smooth and big…so big. Blood pumps through the firm organ, making it throb in my hand. Clear fluid leaks from the slit in the plum-colored crown.

Here goes nothing…

I taste it.

Crash moans out loud and threads his fingers in my hair. I thought he would be bitter or have no taste at all. But it tastes amazing. Like the coconut in the mango margarita. Closing my eyes I flutter my tongue out again, lapping up the rest.

His hand tightens in my curls.

My tongue slides under the base as I take him in my mouth. He’s so big…so good…A dark unholy thrill passes through me as I smell his musk and find that manly scent almost as good as the syrup sliding down my throat. I try to see how deep I can take him. He hits the back of my throat…and pushes deeper.

Crash’s reaction is crazy. He takes a whole fistful of my hair and starts pumping me up and down, gliding deeper into my mouth. The girl in the video used her hands so I give it a try, making that circular stroking motion in time with my mouth. It’s all just a rhythm, isn’t it? Knowing somehow I have to protect him from my teeth, I make a seal of my lips and suck hard.

“Fuck!”

I go wider, feeling more of that clearsomethingthat tastes sooo good.

I look up to make sure I’m doing it right, and the look on his face is one hell of aYES.

And then remembering something Jada said, I slip him from my mouth, bunching my lips around the tip for a sloppy kiss. Here it comes…Feeling a little nervous, I sit up and take my titties and—

“Jesus, Trina!”

I wrap him up and make a few experimental strokes. Crash’s face contorts. He’s breathing in explosions. The hand in my hair tightens as he thrusts between my titties, pumping wildly, watching everything with supreme concentration.

“Fuck, Trina, wait — wait — you don’t want me to bust yet.”

“What does that — ”

“Nevermind. Babygirl lay down, lay down… Son of a bitch, where did you learn that?”

“What level was that?” I pant. I’m out of breath for some reason. My mouth is slick with spit and his own essence.

“Ten. We’re gonna do that again but I got to– hold on. Can’t eventalk.”

He reaches for the paper bag which I didn’t even realize was next to my head.

I watch him take out a shiny square wrapper, and tear it open, his hands shaking bad.

I’m breathing hard too. Between my legs iscravingsomething. Something I know he’s going to give me right now.

A panicked thought says Mamie is going to bust in here and see me like this, and I’ll be mortified for obvious reasons and for the fact that I’m definitely breaking my vow I would never see Crash again.

But he found me.

And I know there will be nothing to interrupt this.

“Put it inside me,” I whisper.

“Easy, easy…” His hand is shaking as he pinches the tip of the rubber and rolls it out over the thick, proud curve that is about the size of my forearm.

---