Page 80 of Wyatt

In reply, she tucks her hair behind her ears and presses her lips to my tip.

Sensation bolts through me. My balls contract. At this rate I really won’t last more than five seconds.

Maybe that’s a good thing. I don’t want this to be the first and only time Sally sucks my dick. The faster I come, the less she’ll have to endure.

Only the enthusiastic way she opens her mouth, bobs her head, and takes half of me in on a single swallow makes me think,Hell, she’s actually enjoying this, isn’t she?

“So. Good,” I sputter as she bobs up. Bobs down.

She scrapes me with her teeth and immediately pulls back, but I just laugh.

“It’s all right. Try rollin’ your lips a little so your teeth are covered. Perfect. You’re fuckin’ perfect, Sal.”

She covers her teeth with her lips and goes in for another try. My heart keeps swelling the more she tries. If she’s trying, she’s comfortable. She’s invested.

She’s swirling her tongue around my head. She’s sucking on it. Kissing it. She’s putting her hands on my hips, and she’s guiding me deeper. Then she’s reaching between her legs to touchherself.

Lord have mercy.

The need for release coils low in my center. I thrust forward at the same time she bobs, and I go deep. Too deep, my head hitting the soft tissue at the back of her throat.

She gags. Her eyes water. My pulse skips.

“Aw, shit, Sal, I’m?—”

But she just shakes her head. She swallows. Swallows again, taking me deeper, centimeter by centimeter.

She pushes her limits. For me.Withme.

“Remember,” I grunt, “you swallow.”

In reply, she gently arcs her thumb over my Jack and Coke tattoo.

My entire body jerks. I’m overtaken by blinding, searing sensation that cuts through my core and has me coming in hot, hard spurts inside Sally’s mouth.

There’s a lot of it. I feel it. I worry Sally’s going to choke, so I pull out a little bit, allowing her to swallow.

I watch the lines of her throat work as she does exactly that, my tip still in her mouth. Cum gathers at the corner of her lips.

“Look at you, doing so good. You look beautiful like this. So fucking beautiful, Sunshine, with me all over you.”

Now I wanna come on her tits. On her stomach. On her back and between her legs.

No way five weeks is gonna be long enough to do everything I wanna do with Sally.

I’m gripped by the fierce urge to ask her to stay. Spend the night. Hell, spend the whole weekend. I can already picture it. First, I’ll take her home. I’ll clean her up in the shower, and this time the water will be piping hot. I’ll have her put on one of my shirts—no pants or panties—and I’ll light a fire in the bedroom. We’ll fuck in my bed. I’ll make her dinner. Make cocktails. I’ll fuck her again. Then we can watch a show, maybe a movie.

We’ll sleep naked. Wake up and fuck before coffee. After, too, because why the hell not? We’ll have breakfast, and then I’ll go down on her on the couch in my living room. We’ll watch another show. We’ll fuck again.

And then what?

We ain’t riding off into the sunset, that’s for damn sure.

Everyone would know. They’d find out about it somehow. Sally not going home to her parents’ house is about as big of a red flag as you can get. John B and Patsy sure as hell wouldn’t approve of their darling princess messing around with the likes of me. Cash would resort to murder, no question.

Would it be worth it though?

Clearly, something is wrong with me. Nice, normal, sane people don’t consider lighting their life on fire just totemporarilykeep a girl in their bed.