Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
“And your house wouldn’t have to be tagged with a gang sign to keep you safe.”
The corner of her mouth curls up. “Yeah, you get it.”
I do, and want those things too.
“What does it take to be a nurse?”
“Four years of schooling, but I can work my way up.” Her face is bright and animated as she talks about the nursing school. It obviously excites her. “There are these jobs called PCTs or patient care technicians. There’s no education or training required. It’s a tough job because you are at the bottom and you literally have to clean shit, and the hours and pay are terrible.”
“Is there a but somewhere?”
She giggles. “Yes, you get tuition assistance to study to be a licensed practical nurse, and from there I can save money to train to be a registered nurse.”
“You have it all planned out.” I have never looked that far ahead. My life is day to day or night to night or gerbil to gerbil. Andy’s way too good for me. I know it. I think she knows it, too, but for some reason she likes having me around.
I reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “You have a man in your future?”
She shivers under my touch. “I hadn’t put one in there. No.”
“Not even for the kids playing in your front yard?” My thumb drags over her lower lip, pulling it down until I can see the deep, hidden pink.
“It’s all a fantasy,” she says, not moving, barely breathing. She rubs her lips together, drawing away from my thumb. “I shouldn’t, but it’s my birthday.”
I don’t ask her what she shouldn’t do. I know. Me. She shouldn’t do me, but she wants to anyway. A guy can only take so much before he breaks. The wistfulness, the hopefulness, the longing in her voice strikes me deep. She’s got a hook in me, and I know it’s going to hurt like hell when she pulls free, but I don’t care.
I lick my lips and then press my mouth against hers. She’s soft and pillowy. I’ve never laid my lips against any other girl before. Hell, I don’t even remember kissing my mom’s cheek. I’m just not that kind of guy. Andy’s my first, and she tastes like sugar and chocolate and every other sweet thing I’ve ever been blessed enough to try.
I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’ve heard plenty of stuff, and I know that tongues are involved, so when her lips part, I sweep my tongue inside. It’s as shocking as if she’d laid her hand around my cock. I tighten my hand around her hair and angle her head back so that I can plunge deeper. Is this what her pussy feels like—a warm, wet cavern of sweetness?
Need pulses through my veins, an insistent drum that wants more, more, more. I grab her hand and place it over my rod, squeezing my fist around her tiny hand and my growing shaft. She’s tentative at first but then grows bold, folding her fingers around the outline of my meat. She squeezes on her own, and it’s not as hard, but it’s so much more delicious.
My hand drops from her hair to the bottom of her shirt. I sweep my palms up underneath that cloth. My work-battered knuckles scrape against her delicate skin, but she doesn’t shy away even when my palms find the side of her breasts encased in nylon. I hear a whimper, and again I don’t know if it’s from her or from me, but I take it as a go sign. I move my hands to her breasts. Her nipples are taut and pointed, like hard erasers. Abruptly, it's not enough to kiss her mouth. I have to have more, taste more, discover more.
I lift up her shirt, peel back one cup, lean down, and take one tight nipple into my mouth. This time the cry is clearly hers. She bucks under my mouth, shoving her breast against my face. I sweep my free hand under her ass and bring her jean-clad pussy against my denim-covered dick. There are way too many layers of clothing between us.
Instinct takes over, and she begins to ride me, rubbing herself up and down along my shaft. My head spins. I free the other tit and switch back and forth between them, kissing and licking, nipping and soothing. My hands are busy kneading them into rounder, fuller shapes. She tenses under my grip, and a high, keening sound escapes from the back of her throat.
“I want, I want, I need…” She doesn’t know what the words are. Can’t find the right ones to finish her sentence, but I can feel the moisture flooding between us. I can’t hold back anymore. I grab her head again, forcing her back so I can plunder her mouth, sucking down her cries as we both come. She collapses against me, tucking her face in the crook of my neck. I rub her back with broad, slow strokes, all the while burning with the need to be inside of her.