Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
She hums on my cock as her hand picks up speed.
“Look at you, slut. Look at you. So perfect.” I wipe her mascara as tears stream down her face, placing the same finger on my lips. She’s so beautiful. “Even your tears taste good.”
Cash spits and coughs as I pull out and slam back down her throat, fucking her mouth like it’s her pussy. I show no mercy and grip her throat, holding her tight and closing her airway. Her mouth constricts around my dick, and my eyes almost roll to the back of my head. The way she moves her mouth and tongue on my cock is enough to bring me to my knees.
Banging on my office door. “Gunner, I need some Johnny Walker.”
I’m so far gone that I don’t even recognize the voice. My hips thrust harder into her mouth, stretching her lips like I stretched her cunt in the woods. The only thing I can focus on is coming. I sure as fuck am not leaving this room until I’ve cum deep in Cash’s pretty little throat.
She moans the deeper I fuck her throat, so I don’t hold back. I fuck her face harder, getting lost in her constant gagging. I wonder if she’ll barf. The thought both disgusts and turns me the fuck on.
I can’t take it anymore; I’m about to blow. I pull out and grab her hair, holding her still as ropes of cum splatter her lips, cheeks, and neck.
“Stay there,” I pant, grabbing my cell from my jeans. I snap three pictures of her. “Gotta keep something for the spank bank if you decide to ghost me again.”
She leans back on the sofa with a satiated smile. “Show those pictures to anyone, and I’ll cut your dick off while you sleep.”
Walking over to her, I lick my cum from her face and kiss her lips. “Sparrow, I’ll gouge out the eyes of any man who comes into contact with you. Trust me, the only person who gets to see my little slut is me.” I offer her my hand and help her up.
“You got any tissue? I need to clean up before I go back out there.”
“Your face is clean.”
She points to her neck. “What about this?”
“That’s me marking my territory.”
We leave the office, and I head to the bar while Cash saunters to the stage. She adjusts her skirt, and I slip my hand into my jeans pocket, rubbing her damp, ripped panties while possessively staring at the glistening shine on her neck. No one in the bar will know what it is. Most will assume it’s moisturizer or makeup, but I know. She’s wearing my cum.
Only half a dozen regulars dot the bar after midnight on a weeknight, but something tells me that’s exactly what Cash needs to work out her new music. Hell, if giving her access to my open mic keeps her coming to my bar, I am all in.
Thoughts of Cash were in a constant loop in my head after I dropped her off yesterday morning. I alternated through moments of wanting to fuck her senseless and worshiping at her feet. I shot her a few texts and waited by my phone like a lovesick teen. But the only response I got was her silence. So I was fucking glad when I saw her walking into the bar.
Cash snags the acoustic guitar I left propped in the corner for impromptu jam sessions and settles herself on the lone stool in the center of the tiny stage. I flip on the surround sound speakers, and my cock jerks in my pants as I hear her soft breaths at the mic. The same soft breaths that she released as she choked on my dick.
Fuck, she’s so pretty and soft and peaceful up there. It’s like seeing her for the first time in her true form. Sure, I’ve seen her kink, but this… this is different. This is like getting a glimpse into her soul. The damn record label was so busy covering her in thick makeup and fake hair that they concealed her natural shine and beauty. They deprived the world of the real treasure.
My heart fucking aches, realizing she’s been chewed up and spat out in the same way my mama was decades before.
The Elvis effect, Mama called it. The ruthless side of the music industry. Making music for money, not passion.
But here’s Cash, standing up for her heart and music by turning the tables and fully living her life.
“Evenin’, everyone.” The soft, midwestern lilt of her voice puts a grin on my face. “I’m still working out the last part of this new song. I’m hoping singing it out loud will help me…” She trails off, eyes searching the nearly empty room until they finally land on mine.
I nod when our eyes lock, my grin growing to chase away the insecurity I see shimmering in her eyes.