Page 18 of Mister Prick

I grinned at the thought. “I appreciate it, but that’s okay. I’m able to take care of myself, and I did. I left him. It’s over.”

“You’re no longer in touch?”

“I haven’t seen him since I left. I changed my number. He’s too worried to come around me in public. So, as long as he doesn’t know where I live, I’m fine.”

He alternated glances between the street and me. “Give me his address anyway.”

“I’ll consider it. So, what’s the plan?”

“Do you peel apples before you eat them?”

“Huh?”

“Apples. Do you peel them?”

“No.”

“How often do you wash your car?”

“When it needs it. Why?”

“Do you like to draw?”

“Draw? Like on paper?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

“I don’t. Well. I can’t. Therefore, I don’t.”

“If you had to drive to Los Angeles, and you could pick any time of the day to do it, when would you make the journey?”

I chuckled. “At midnight.”

“Why?”

“There’s no traffic at midnight.” I crossed my legs and gave him a look. “What’s with the questions?”

“It tells me a little more about you.”

“That was a rudimentary psychological evaluation?”

“Of sorts.”

I glanced at his bulging bicep as he turned the corner. “Interesting.”

“Now, to answer your question, here’s the plan.” He looked me over from head to toe – slowly. “I’m going to hike that dress above your waist, bend you over, and shove you so full of cock that it takes your breath away. While you’re trying to decide what the hell happened, I’ll grab ahold of your hips and continue to shove you full of cock until your legs go weak. Then, right before you collapse into a pile at my feet, I’m going to pull out. Not because I don’t want to finish, but so I can bury my face in your twat while you’re in that weakened state. Then, with my mouth pressed hard against your throbbing little pussy, I’ll suck on your clit until you come all over my face. That, Jess, is the plan for the next...” He glanced at his watch and then met my wide-eyed gaze. “Forty-nine minutes. Any questions?”

My face went hot. As far as afternoon quickies went, it sounded like a fabulous plan.

“I uhhm.” I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth and swallowed hard. “No. No questions.”

“Sound like a good plan?”

I fanned my face with my hand, and then raised my index finger. “It does, but there’s only one problem.”

“What’s that?”

If he thought for one moment that his graphic description embarrassed me, or made me feel uncomfortable, he was wrong. I was far from a prude, and was perfectly capable of giving him a little of his own medicine.

“My guess is that it’ll take you about ten minutes to complete that task. Not knowing where we’re going, but assuming it’ll take us ten minutes to get there, we’re left with twenty-nine minutes.” I turned sideways in my seat and looked him up and down. “In those twenty-nine minutes, I plan on wrapping my lips around the tip of your cock, looking you in the eyes, and then sucking it with a level of expertise that you had no idea even existed. Yes, Vince, I love sucking cock, and I’m rather good at it. About four minutes into the blowjob that you’ll spend a lifetime comparing all other blowjobs to, you’re going to come. Right down my throat. Then, I’ll drag my lips down along your stiff shaft, taking every last drop with me when I do. That’ll leave us twenty-five minutes to get a cup of coffee at Starbucks and a taco at Pete’s. Any questions?”

His Adam’s apple rose, and then fell. After wiping his forehead with his wrist, he turned a corner and came to a stop.

“I’ve got one,” he said.

My description of sucking his cock had me ready to jump him right then and there. I ogled the muscular structure of his bare arm and wished he was holding me down with it while he was fucking me senseless.

When he cleared his throat the fog of sexual frustration lifted. I wondered how long I’d been staring at him.

I shook my head. “What uhhm. What is it? Your question?”

“If this goes the way I hope it does, can we do it again?”

“I’ll let you know when we’re done.” I said, fighting against the urge to grin.

He gave a quick nod. “Fair enough.” He motioned toward my door. “Get out.”