life than making seven miserable dollars an hour at a fast food chain and being bullied by the 2012 prom queen.
“You like this cock?”
I thought to myself, Is he serious?
My eyes rolled into the back of my head.
He continued to grunt unimpressive words of lust at me. “Do you? Huh?!”
I guess deeper strokes were supposed to provoke the right loving and lustful answer out of me.
“Tell me how much you like it,” he ordered, along with hard thrusts to snatch me out of my distressed thoughts.
I cringed and yelped. “Fuck! I like it, okay?!”
Asshole wasn’t even paying enough attention to hear my sarcasm.
I could hear him giggling in delight behind me as his fingers dug into my waistline, assisting in hoisting himself into the perfect position to assault my vag.
I could feel his nails in my skin.
He needed a fucking manicure.
There was more to life than this.
There just had to be.
Being mediocre was okay in this town. Being average was a blessing. Being above average was a weird twist of fate, like winning the Powerball lottery.
Natives of this fine hillbilly land were fine with this kind of life. I was supposed to be like my mother – marry a local boy and have babies. Then, I was supposed to take all three of my kids to bonfires, where I met with my other friends who were also married, had babies, and had lackluster careers.
Unfortunately, as Tyler’s rhythm became steady, heavy, and persistent, I feared that I would be too much like my mother – divorced and a single mother – if I allowed Tyler to burst this load into me.
Suddenly, I could hear that glorious chime. I heard it loud and clear, over Tyler’s moaning and groaning. A shy smile spread across my face. I knew that it was him . That simple notion excited me. The thought of him sent erotic chills all over my exposed skin.
I thrust back onto Tyler’s manhood. He probably thought that I was fucking him, but, in my mind, I was fucking Justin. He was who deserved my body. He was who cared for me. He was who took care of me emotionally.
“Yea!” Tyler was grunting in delight. “That’s it!”
I closed my eyes and let the continuous chiming serenade the mental threesome that I was having. Justin was in that room with me and Tyler. He was telling me something sensual that I would be able to read as soon as this asshole was done doing his business.
With a jerk, Tyler slid out of me. His legs lifted off of me. I was free to move about the cabin, finally.
I jumped out of bed with visions of Tyler holding a leaking member in my peripheral.
I slipped into the hall and skipped into the bathroom.
I showered.
I couldn’t talk to Justin with Tyler juice on me.
I lathered and let the anticipation of Justin’s conversation and the sweet smell of the Dove Nutrium rescue my mind from the violation that I had just endured. I showered quickly and dried my body with the rough Dollar Store bath towel even faster.
By the time I skipped with anticipation back into the bedroom, Tyler was holding his cock while cradling a pillow and snoring. I grabbed my Galaxy from the nightstand and left him there in his own sweat.
The green notification light was blinking rapidly, waiting for me to check my instant messages. My fingers swiped across the screen like a ninja.
Justin Hunter: Hey, babe.
Justin Hunter: How was work?
Justin Hunter: I missed you today. Work was so busy.
Justin Hunter: Where are you? Are you busy?
Justin Hunter: Or are you with him? :–(
Every single part of me, every single cell in my body, wanted to call him. I just wanted to hear his voice. I wanted to allow the octaves of the baritone voice, that I imagined he had, make better love to me than Tyler just had.
My body shivered as I typed: Hi .
It was amazing that I felt more love, more chemistry, in that chat box than I did when my real boyfriend was on top of me.
Justin Hunter: You’re with him, aren’t you?
Karrie Stahl: I don’t want to talk about him .
Justin
“You like this cock?”
I thought to myself, Is he serious?
My eyes rolled into the back of my head.
He continued to grunt unimpressive words of lust at me. “Do you? Huh?!”
I guess deeper strokes were supposed to provoke the right loving and lustful answer out of me.
“Tell me how much you like it,” he ordered, along with hard thrusts to snatch me out of my distressed thoughts.
I cringed and yelped. “Fuck! I like it, okay?!”
Asshole wasn’t even paying enough attention to hear my sarcasm.
I could hear him giggling in delight behind me as his fingers dug into my waistline, assisting in hoisting himself into the perfect position to assault my vag.
I could feel his nails in my skin.
He needed a fucking manicure.
There was more to life than this.
There just had to be.
Being mediocre was okay in this town. Being average was a blessing. Being above average was a weird twist of fate, like winning the Powerball lottery.
Natives of this fine hillbilly land were fine with this kind of life. I was supposed to be like my mother – marry a local boy and have babies. Then, I was supposed to take all three of my kids to bonfires, where I met with my other friends who were also married, had babies, and had lackluster careers.
Unfortunately, as Tyler’s rhythm became steady, heavy, and persistent, I feared that I would be too much like my mother – divorced and a single mother – if I allowed Tyler to burst this load into me.
Suddenly, I could hear that glorious chime. I heard it loud and clear, over Tyler’s moaning and groaning. A shy smile spread across my face. I knew that it was him . That simple notion excited me. The thought of him sent erotic chills all over my exposed skin.
I thrust back onto Tyler’s manhood. He probably thought that I was fucking him, but, in my mind, I was fucking Justin. He was who deserved my body. He was who cared for me. He was who took care of me emotionally.
“Yea!” Tyler was grunting in delight. “That’s it!”
I closed my eyes and let the continuous chiming serenade the mental threesome that I was having. Justin was in that room with me and Tyler. He was telling me something sensual that I would be able to read as soon as this asshole was done doing his business.
With a jerk, Tyler slid out of me. His legs lifted off of me. I was free to move about the cabin, finally.
I jumped out of bed with visions of Tyler holding a leaking member in my peripheral.
I slipped into the hall and skipped into the bathroom.
I showered.
I couldn’t talk to Justin with Tyler juice on me.
I lathered and let the anticipation of Justin’s conversation and the sweet smell of the Dove Nutrium rescue my mind from the violation that I had just endured. I showered quickly and dried my body with the rough Dollar Store bath towel even faster.
By the time I skipped with anticipation back into the bedroom, Tyler was holding his cock while cradling a pillow and snoring. I grabbed my Galaxy from the nightstand and left him there in his own sweat.
The green notification light was blinking rapidly, waiting for me to check my instant messages. My fingers swiped across the screen like a ninja.
Justin Hunter: Hey, babe.
Justin Hunter: How was work?
Justin Hunter: I missed you today. Work was so busy.
Justin Hunter: Where are you? Are you busy?
Justin Hunter: Or are you with him? :–(
Every single part of me, every single cell in my body, wanted to call him. I just wanted to hear his voice. I wanted to allow the octaves of the baritone voice, that I imagined he had, make better love to me than Tyler just had.
My body shivered as I typed: Hi .
It was amazing that I felt more love, more chemistry, in that chat box than I did when my real boyfriend was on top of me.
Justin Hunter: You’re with him, aren’t you?
Karrie Stahl: I don’t want to talk about him .
Justin
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