Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
With that, I pull myself out of her rectum, watching as my enormous monster appears coated in a mixture of seed and ass sweat. But Petunia doesn’t let me down. Immediately, she scrambles around on her hands and knees and gobbles up my shaft, cleaning it of all fluids.
“Mmm,” she moans, looking up at me with big blue eyes. “Ummm.”
“That’s a good girl,” I croon with approval while stroking her blonde curls back from her forehead. “You were made for me, Petunia. You belong to me.”
The saucy girl shoots me a sweet smile, her lashes fluttering shut at the compliment, and the fact is that my words are true. I’ve never met someone like this sexy nymph in my life, and I don’t plan on letting Petunia go … until I’ve ruined her for all other men.
CHAPTER 7
Brant
Fuck, I can’t believe my life. Actually, I can because Petunia comes over on a regular basis now and we fuck like animals. My dick’s in every single one of her orifices as much as possible, and the little filly loves it. Shit, the sassy blonde begs for it too. She walks around my house giggling and nude, and often tempts me when I’m trying to get work done by kneeling at my feet and opening her mouth, or flashing her pussy at the craziest times. Even worse, I’m on it too. I never say no, and within seconds, I’ve got my dick in her pussy, ass, or mouth as we both moan with pleasure.
But where did Petunia learn these tricks? How did she get so nasty? Don’t get me wrong because I love it, but we live in a small-town setting, so it seems unlikely that she picked them up anywhere here. Of course, Petunia said she recently moved from Chicago, but does this shit go on over there? If so, then where exactly? I’d love to know.
Then again, the internet is ubiquitous these days, so I guess you can pick up anything as long has you have a high speed connection. Hell, I’ve heard that cam girls make ten grand a week by filming at home. They literally never leave their apartments, and yet they bare their pussies for top dollar. But anal prolapsing? Where the hell did Petunia pick that up?
Hell, maybe my sweet girl watches a lot of hard-core porn, and practices in her bathroom. Well, whatever it is, I’m the beneficiary and I have to say that it’s something that I love. I’ve been with a lot of women in the past, and some of them were hoes, no doubt. There were girls that could deep throat nine inches without blinking an eye, or squirt pussy juice in clear arcs that flew out six feet. But Petunia’s the only one who’s ever been able to prolapse, and it feeds a hunger deep inside.
My cock’s getting hard and I’m just about to text Petunia when suddenly my phone beeps. Great, maybe it’s her. But as I look down at the screen, my face falls into a frown.
Hey, big boy. How r u? Want to grab some coffee? xx
I roll my eyes. I’ve haven’t spoken to Monica in a week now, ever since our goodbye fuck by her pool, but she’s been texting me every day, nonetheless. I haven’t replied, but I suppose some women just don’t give up.
I put my phone down, grimacing. If Monica knew what I’ve been up to, she’d probably scream with rage before assaulting me with some kind of weapon. After all, how many guys move on as fast as I have? Literally, the night after we broke up, I was fucking a beautiful young blonde in the ass and had already forgotten Monica.
But this woman is relentless, and even though I haven’t replied, my phone chirps again.
I’ll let you put it in if you want. *wink wink*
I sigh, my shoulders sagging. Monica needs to get a life, or at least find herself another boy toy to play with. I still have no idea how she funded her lifestyle, but it seemed the middle-aged woman had nothing better to do than shop relentlessly, or sit by the pool with her also-unemployed friends while drinking like fish. I don’t know how she supported herself, and I never asked because it wasn’t my business. We were about carnal satisfaction, and that’s how I wanted to keep it.
But then my phone goes off again, and I want to throw it against the wall, but instead, I stare at the screen.
*back door included*
Oh god. Monica’s desperate, that’s for sure. I think about blocking her number, but hell, that might just bring her to my doorstep. It’s better to have a controlled meet, as opposed to some crazy scene where she embarrasses me in front of my neighbors. As a result, I make a decision and type into my phone.