men were breathing heavy, adrenalin coursing through their system. They had come to kick some ass, and it looked as though it might be ending too quickly.
“I am being serious,” Colt said.
“Fine,” Sherry said with a sigh. “Pick me up at seven.”
“Let’s go, boys,” Colt said, and he led the way out. “See you at seven, Love,” he said as he passed Sherry, and she tried but failed to hide a small smile. When they were gone, she helped Greg to his couch, and then cleaned his face as best as she could.
“Thank you,” Greg said, and when he spoke Sherry saw he was missing another tooth.
4
Seven came and went, and Sherry sat waiting for Colt in her living room. Finally, at eight ten there was a knock on the door, and she thought about not answering it, just to show the man that she was annoyed with him. But she didn’t want him getting angry and knocking on Greg’s door instead, so she opened it and looked up at Colt.
“You’re late,” she barked.
“I know,” he said, stepping inside. She put a hand on his chest.
“I thought we were going for a ride?” Sherry asked. She had dressed for that, jeans and a hoodie.
“I was thinking of staying in,” Colt said, and he put his hands on her hips and bent to kiss her. Sherry was going to turn her head, she was going to deny the man a kiss, but she didn’t, and his lips pressed against hers. He was strong, and his kiss was strong, forceful, his tongue pushing past her lips to explore her mouth. He tasted of beer and whiskey, and Sherry realized she didn’t want him to stop kissing her.
His hands rode up her side, lifting her sweatshirt with it. Sherry lifted her arms, letting the man pull the hoodie up and over her head. She was wearing just a bra now, black and lacey with cups that were semi-translucent. He palmed her breasts, one large hand on each cup, and she felt her nipples harden at his touch. He hadn’t broke the kiss yet, and she was unwilling to do so.
His tongue danced with hers, his hands groped her, and Sherry felt a warmth spread in her loins, and as her slit moistened, she knew the kissing and groping would lead to sex, and she wanted it.
Colt was a strong man. Sherry put her hands on his stomach, up under his shirt, her fingers tracing along his well-defined abs. He was hotheaded. A bad boy. He wanted her, and she knew he was going to take her. She stepped forward, grinding her hips against his and she could tell that he was already hard, even through his blue denim jeans.
Finally, Colt broke the kiss, and Sherry opened her eyes to look at him, expecting him to speak. He didn’t say a word, he just lowered his head and used his fingers to pull the front of her bra down, so her large pale breasts spilled up and over the cups. One hand continued to grope and squeeze the fatty tissue of her tits, rough fingertips pinching her nipple, while his mouth went to the other breast, and the tip of his tongue danced over her nipple there.
Sherry threw her head back in ecstasy. Her nipples had always been sensitive, and she remembered one time in high school when her boyfriend fumbled awkwardly under her shirt in the back seat of his car. Just his fingers on her nipples, pinching and pulling them was enough to make her orgasm. She had rewarded the boy with his first blowjob. It looked as though something similar was on Colt’s mind. He pulled from her breasts, looked her in the eye, and then moved one powerful hand to the back of her head. He gripped her hair and pulled her down, so she was forced to drop to her knees. She looked up at him, taking in his bulging package, his hard cock pushing against the fly of his jeans. He was watching her. He still hadn’t said a word to her. She knew what he expected her to do, and she was eager to do it.
Sherry reached up and unzipped his fly. Then she unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down, taking his boxer shorts with them in one motion. Free from the denim and cotton prison, his hard
“I am being serious,” Colt said.
“Fine,” Sherry said with a sigh. “Pick me up at seven.”
“Let’s go, boys,” Colt said, and he led the way out. “See you at seven, Love,” he said as he passed Sherry, and she tried but failed to hide a small smile. When they were gone, she helped Greg to his couch, and then cleaned his face as best as she could.
“Thank you,” Greg said, and when he spoke Sherry saw he was missing another tooth.
4
Seven came and went, and Sherry sat waiting for Colt in her living room. Finally, at eight ten there was a knock on the door, and she thought about not answering it, just to show the man that she was annoyed with him. But she didn’t want him getting angry and knocking on Greg’s door instead, so she opened it and looked up at Colt.
“You’re late,” she barked.
“I know,” he said, stepping inside. She put a hand on his chest.
“I thought we were going for a ride?” Sherry asked. She had dressed for that, jeans and a hoodie.
“I was thinking of staying in,” Colt said, and he put his hands on her hips and bent to kiss her. Sherry was going to turn her head, she was going to deny the man a kiss, but she didn’t, and his lips pressed against hers. He was strong, and his kiss was strong, forceful, his tongue pushing past her lips to explore her mouth. He tasted of beer and whiskey, and Sherry realized she didn’t want him to stop kissing her.
His hands rode up her side, lifting her sweatshirt with it. Sherry lifted her arms, letting the man pull the hoodie up and over her head. She was wearing just a bra now, black and lacey with cups that were semi-translucent. He palmed her breasts, one large hand on each cup, and she felt her nipples harden at his touch. He hadn’t broke the kiss yet, and she was unwilling to do so.
His tongue danced with hers, his hands groped her, and Sherry felt a warmth spread in her loins, and as her slit moistened, she knew the kissing and groping would lead to sex, and she wanted it.
Colt was a strong man. Sherry put her hands on his stomach, up under his shirt, her fingers tracing along his well-defined abs. He was hotheaded. A bad boy. He wanted her, and she knew he was going to take her. She stepped forward, grinding her hips against his and she could tell that he was already hard, even through his blue denim jeans.
Finally, Colt broke the kiss, and Sherry opened her eyes to look at him, expecting him to speak. He didn’t say a word, he just lowered his head and used his fingers to pull the front of her bra down, so her large pale breasts spilled up and over the cups. One hand continued to grope and squeeze the fatty tissue of her tits, rough fingertips pinching her nipple, while his mouth went to the other breast, and the tip of his tongue danced over her nipple there.
Sherry threw her head back in ecstasy. Her nipples had always been sensitive, and she remembered one time in high school when her boyfriend fumbled awkwardly under her shirt in the back seat of his car. Just his fingers on her nipples, pinching and pulling them was enough to make her orgasm. She had rewarded the boy with his first blowjob. It looked as though something similar was on Colt’s mind. He pulled from her breasts, looked her in the eye, and then moved one powerful hand to the back of her head. He gripped her hair and pulled her down, so she was forced to drop to her knees. She looked up at him, taking in his bulging package, his hard cock pushing against the fly of his jeans. He was watching her. He still hadn’t said a word to her. She knew what he expected her to do, and she was eager to do it.
Sherry reached up and unzipped his fly. Then she unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down, taking his boxer shorts with them in one motion. Free from the denim and cotton prison, his hard
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