Page 64 of Don't Puck Him

“Fuck, Hunter,” she groans.

When I get to her pussy, she is already soaking and ready for me. I lay down on my stomach on the couch after placing her legs over my shoulders and go to town.

The second my tongue touches her pink nub, she obliterates. All of her problems and worries are shattered into a million pieces when I lap her up, teasing her with nips, bites, sucks, tongue-slapping, and finally, penetration. I know what she likes by this point, but we are still exploring the vast universe of what all of that just may entail.

The infinity of the concept makes me drunk with excitement.

“Oh, Hunter, yes,” Wren croons.

“Such a delicious pet,” I mumble.

This only makes her even more feral. She is eating out of the palm of my hand, while I eat her. I instruct her only to cum when I say it is okay, which allows me to edge her for a good ten minutes of luscious torment.

Her thighs shake, and her pelvis begins to thrust forward into my face. I grab hold of it with both hands, tsking with my mouth pulled away from her heated core.

“I thought you were going to be a good girl?”

She pleads with me, and I adore it. My cock is hard as stone watching her writhe around.

“Yes, Hunter, I’ll be good, I promise,” she whimpers at me.

I slowly bring my mouth to her pussy, and she cries out in delight. I use a finger to penetrate her rapidly while sucking at the bud, and I know that it is all soon to be over.

“Release all of that pain, baby,” I say between sucking. “Release it all. Scream it out. Cum for me baby.”

I spend two seconds sucking at her clit and fucking her with my fingers, when she shrieks out an explosive orgasm. I revel in her cries and suck until she is nearly kicking me off the couch.

Like a woman possessed, her demon is gone. I kiss the quivering legs of Wren, my divine pet.

33

WREN

I’ve been way too happy. Things have been too damn peaceful, so it's only natural that the universe butts its head in and shake things up.

I'm hanging out in my friend Gracie's room. We’re both sitting on her bed. It’s a slow day and we’re streaming a show when my mom texts me.

“Why do you look like you just tasted ear wax?” she asks and pauses the show.

“Firstly, eww.”

We both giggle.

“My mom wants to meet me for a fancy dinner,” I say.

“That sounds nice.”

“Only if you don’t know my mom.”

“Just go, get take-away, then fake a headache and leave early.”

None of that will work with her. She’s the type of person to follow me here if I decline her offer and she doesn't get her way. I respond with a yes, but I’m not thrilled. This is so last minute. What will I wear and how will I get there in time?

Now I have to go back to my room and find an outfit that will appease her.

Gracie escorts me and after a quick shower, we try to find something that won't embarrass my mom. Something that’s a little trendy but still classy. After a few misses, I pair a chunky sweater dress with some loafers and hope for the best.

“You look so pretty,” says Gracie when she’s done pinning my hair into place.

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