Page 82 of The Man Handler

Then when his cock is nice and slippery from my spit, I lift up and put his dick in the middle of my chest, press my plump breasts together and give him a nice, wet, titty fuck until he nuts all over me, smearing his cum around my nipples. And the crazy shit is: I really want to lick his dick cream off my damn nipples. That is the only time my pussy twitches. Seeing his dick milk spurt out of his dick and onto my titties turns me on.

“Damn, that was good,” he says, sitting up, then wiping himself off. He reaches for my titties and lightly pulls my nipples, then rolls them between his fingers. I moan. His dick is still hard. “I want some head, baby; then I wanna get up in that pussy.”

I take him back into my mouth and slowly suck him again, gliding my mouth down the back of his shaft and flicking my tongue over his balls every so often before devouring all of his dick.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout…suck that shit, baby…”

Once I get my groove, I greedily suck his dick like it’s a Charms lollipop. Slobbering and spitting all over it, cupping his balls and slowly licking and pulling them into my mouth one at a time. And when I finally have him all the way down in my throat, causing him to buck his hips and open and close his toes, I break a major dick-sucking rule. I throw up all over his dick.

And of course he storms up out of here pissed off, but who gives a fuck. I strip and change my sheets, then race back into the bathroom, throwing up again. When I am finished, I wash my face and brush my teeth, then get ready to climb into bed when my doorbell rings. I glance at the clock. 11:30 p.m. It’s Nelson.

“Shit,” I say out loud, pulling the comforter up over me and turning off my night lamp. “I forgot to call him and cancel.” I sigh. Oh well, fuck him. He rings the doorbell three more times before giving up. I close my eyes, deciding to delete his number.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

“Hey, Sis, how’s it going?” Tyler asks.

“Hey to you, too. Everything’s fine, thanks. How are you and the family?”

“We’re all fine. Haven’t spoken to you since Thanksgiving so I wanted to give you a ring to see how you were doing.”

“Awww,” I say, smiling. “That’s real sweet of you.”

He chuckles. “Well, I kinda figured it beats dropping by early in the morning.”

“Well, big bro, for the record, you can drop by any time you like. But don’t get too excited,” I tease, “’cause that doesn’t mean I’m gonna always open the door to let you in.”

“Hey, hey,” he says, laughing. “I’m an officer of the law. I have ways of still getting in.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, come kick the door in and arrest me.”

“How ’bout a hug instead?”

I smile. “Any time.”

“You talk to Garrett yet?”

“Nope,” I say, lying across my sofa, rubbing my stomach. “He hasn’t called me, and I haven’t called him.”

“I see. Don’t you think you should reach out to him?”

“For what?” I ask, hoping to not sound too callous. But, what the fuck?! “He’s not my man.”

“Yeah, maybe he wasn’t, but after three years, I’d think you’d have, if nothing else, a fondness for him. I’d hate to see you let a good man slip away.”

Yeah, I did. I was fond of that thick, cut, juicy-ass dick. “It’s probably for the best.”

“For who?”

“For him.”

“Why, don’t you think you deserve to have a good man in your life?”

“Of course I do.”

“So then, what’s the problem?”

I think, consider, his question; contemplate telling him that the only thing good I want from a man is his dick, that I am easily bored with men; that I am very freaky and nasty. That I love being face-fucked and sucking dick, edging a man for hours, wrapping my lips around the underside of the rim of his dickhead and working it with my warm, wet lips, taking him to the brink again, and again, and again, each time more intense ’til he plunges into a shattering orgasm. I wonder how he would respond to all of this, then decide it probably wouldn’t go so well.

---