Page 23 of Titus

“You’re so nasty,” she says, blushing.

“If you take them jeans off, I can show you nasty.”

“I got a better idea.”

She stands and steps between my legs. While resting her hands on my thighs, she eases onto her knees. With her eyes trained on me, she unbuckles my belt then my jeans. When she tugs at the top of them, I happily lift up and pull them down my damn self. She smiles and I can’t help it. My hands grip the back of her head and I lean in and kiss her nastily. As we kiss, her soft ass hands grab my shit and she strokes me until I’m hard as fuck.

When I release her mouth, she stares up at me. “You mind?” she asks, almost pleading.

“Nawl. Shit,” I groan.Looking at me like this, she can have whatever she wants.

Slowly, she licks the entire length of me then plants a soft kiss on the head. Next, she embraces my balls with one hand then uses her other one to guide me into her warm, wet mouth. I damn near growl when my tip hits the back of her throat. She takes me all in, gags a little but holds strong. Her eyes still stay focused on mine the entire time and I see them get bigger as she deep throats me.

“Fuck!” I groan as my head falls back.

The warmness of her mouth and the way she is deliberate with each of her movements is driving me fucking crazy. Then she starts slurping and moaning as she sucks me up. My hands grab the back of her head to do what, I don’t know, ’cause this is her show. She has me locked and this feeling is too fucking good.

“Mmmm,” she moans again, humming on my shit and I swear my dick gets hard as nails.

“Mmm shit, Quinn!” She’s giving me the best wet, sloppy but controlled head and this shit is making my damn head spin. “The fuck!” I groan. She’s a beast, no doubt. I’m about to bust already. “Shit.”

When she licks down my dick then sucks on my balls, I fucking lose it. I fist her long hair but she doesn’t let up. She’s chasing my nut and I’m going to give it to her. The moment she takes me back into her mouth, I hold her head and slowly fuck her face until I explode and she takes it all and swallows.

Gotdamn.

She lifts her head then swipes her hand across her mouth. “We can go after this ride,” she says.

Al-fucking-ready.

Every competition leads to finals. The more finals I place in and win at these rodeos, the higher my scores and the better my chances are of making it to the ultimate event in December, the Wrangler National Finals Rodeo (NFR). It’s the grand finale of the rodeo season and the top fifteen in each event battle it out for championship titles, buckles, bragging rights, and a slice of a massive multi-million dollar purse.

Today is just one important step in my career. For today’s finals, the events are divided into timed events then rough stock events. Bull riding was first. With Destry out of the race, I lost interest in the event and didn’t bother to watch it. Barrel racing was next. The favorite, Lana Mitchell, took the prize as expected. Steer wrestling is finishing up now and I’m next. There’s only one person standing in my way for the win, Bronson Wilt. His eight point four got him to the finals.

“You got this,” Quinn’s soft voice utters. She’s standing beside me and her hand is caressing my back.

“Wilt and Cole,” the rodeo helper calls out. “Time for the toss.”

“Go, baby,” she says.

To determine which one of us competes first, there’s a coin toss. Wilt and I follow the helper out to the dirt. The commissioner has the coin and Wilt calls it, “Heads.”

The coin hits the dirt and Wilt is riding first. The announcement is made and the crowd cheers as we both walk back to the box. Wilt gets ready and I walk back to Quinn. She looks as anxious as I feel.

“You ready?” Lab asks and I nod.

I hand him my phone and he gives me the carrot. I place it in my pocket and hear the chute open. Wilt is riding. Quinn steps to me and just holds me. The entire arena seems to be counting.

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five!”

My heart races faster as the seconds increase. When I hear the audience yell nine, I smile. Then they stop.

“Nine point six eight,” the announcer calls out and I can’t stop smiling.

I can definitely beat nine point six eight.

Zoned in and ready to win, I kiss Quinn then walk into the box. I check the ropes on Phoenix, then mount her. “Let’s get this win, girl,” I utter in her ear then lightly pat her side. She neighs loudly.She’s ready too.

This is the moment. My time to shine. I don’t have to beat Wilt; I have to beat me. Eight point six seven is my goal.

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