Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
“It was a wholesome life,” he confirms. “I’m of humble stock, but I’m not ashamed of my origins. In fact, I count myself fortunate because my family escaped poverty and famine in Europe to start a new life here in the United States. Trust me, things could be much, much worse.”
With that, I smile at the handsome man, although I’m already beginning to feel doubts about my plan. In my mind, Brant Harrison was basically the equivalent of a male gigolo. He was an airhead without a clue about the world, who had the temerity to fuck a married woman. But now, I’m not so sure. Even within five minutes of conversation, it seems that Brant’s intelligent and thoughtful, with a good head on his shoulders, and both feet on the ground. Now that, I did not expect.
So what do I do now? I ask myself. Abort? Reveal my true identity?
The voice in my head scoffs. Stop that, Peyton. You’re here on a mission, and you can’t get distracted by a conversation about genealogy, of all things. This is the guy who hurt your dad! Who’s still hurting your dad! Stick with the original plan.
With that, I straighten my shoulders and smile flirtatiously at Brant once more. Obviously, I need to pull out the big guns because soon, we’ll be having an academic conversation about the history of the world if things don’t move along. As a result, I decide to up the ante. It’s dark in the bar, and not too crowded either. There are some customers at the front, and the bartender’s currently tending to their needs, so Brant and I are pretty much alone in the back.
Taking a deep breath, I smile at him again before leaning forward to pick up my drink. The problem is that the neckline of my dress is so low that with a small jerk of my elbow, suddenly a huge white tit comes tumbling out.
“My goodness,” I gasp, looking down at the creamy orb. “Did that just happen?”
Brant’s thunderstruck as he stares at my beautiful breast, the low lights making it positively glow in the darkness. The nipple’s already hard, and instead of trying to cover myself, instead I reach up with my free hand and gently circle the hard nub.
“Mmm,” I smile wickedly. “Well, now that this ta-ta is out, we might as well get my other one out too.”
With that, I pull my neckline down entirely, letting my other breast spill out too, and then begin circling both nipples with gentle fingers.
“Mm, this feels amazing,” I coo. “It’s such a nice day, don’t you think?”
Never mind that my words don’t even make sense. Brant stares with hungry eyes as I continue to tweak my nipples while jiggling the creamy orbs at him. Then, I push things even further. Never dropping his gaze, I lift one big tit up to my mouth before bending my head to lick at the nipple. Then, I giggle before doing the same with the other breast and jiggle them both at him for fun.
“Would you like a taste?” I ask in a sweet voice. “Don’t worry, nobody’s looking. We’ve basically got the place to ourselves.”
It’s true because we’re in a dark corner, and the other customers at the Red Rooster seem to be having an uproarious time on the other side, keeping the bartender busy with their orders. But I underestimated the alpha male because Brant doesn’t hesitate at all. Instead, he bends that dark head immediately before sipping at my left nipple, making me moan sweetly while throwing my head back, shots of electricity running straight from my tip to my cunt.
“That feels so good,” I whisper. “More. Please.”
Brant’s blue eyes flash as he pulls off for a moment, but then he leans forward again, and soon he’s sucking deep at my breast while a big hand slides up my thigh. Within seconds, I feel something tickling my pussy and squirm a bit on my seat.
“No panties, honey?” he asks in a low growl. “Fuck you’re dirty.”
I merely pant.
“I know, and I’m wet too, aren’t I?” I coo. “It’s all for you, Brant.”
With that, it’s on. The older man’s sucking deeply at one tit before pulling off and lapping at the other. I’m moaning in a low tone as his hand gently grazes my pussy lips, parting the sensitive flesh before testing the moisture at my little opening. Then he pulls his hand away, lifting his fingers up to the light to examine those gleaming digits.
“Absolutely drenched,” he muses, more to himself than anyone. Then, Brant circles my pebbled nipples with his fingers, spreading the pussy juice all over my sensitive flesh so that they shine in the low lights, before leaning down to suckle those hard nubs again.
“Fuck, I love the taste of your vaginal juice, sweetheart,” he rasps between deep pulls at my breasts. “It tastes amazing when I’m sucking it off your titties.”