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“Well, let’s see. What shall I do with him?” I was a nervous wreck, but not about to back down.
I sat my drink down on the floor, took the cup of warm cheese sauce that came with the nachos, and poured half of it all over his dick. He flinched. “Oops, my bad, let me get that for you.”
I leaned over the seat and started to lick the cheese off his dick. Then I got up and moved in between his legs, kneeling down on the floor so I could get more access. I started sucking his dick like a pro. One would have thought I had years of experience, even though it was my first time. All that reading really paid off; Quinton was moaning like crazy and holding on to the armrests of his seat for dear life.
I sucked the head first, and was hooked on the taste of a man’s juices from the second some of his precum hit the back of my throat. The shit was on from that point. I deep-throated that bitch and loved it. I almost gagged a few times, but I caught a rhythm and sucked the shaft and caressed his balls until he came in my mouth. He started trembling and acting like he was having a seizure. I was hesitant to let his dick out of my mouth, even when it got soft. I wanted some more.
I sat there for a few minutes, gently licking and sucking his balls, before I got up and announced, “I have to go.”
“What the hell do you mean, you have to go?”
“I have to get home. Enjoy the rest of your movie.” I was gathering my coat and purse.
He started getting loud with me in the theater. “You’re crazy! Always running away! You’re just going to come in here, suck my dick, and leave?”
“Shhhh! Keep your voice down. Yes, that’s exactly what I’m about to do. Leave.”
“Forget this movie. Let’s go back to my place. I want to be with you.” He started feeling all over my thighs, trying to get his hand between my legs, but I wouldn’t let him.
“Quinton, I have to go. It’s been real, and thanks for the, ummmm, whatever you want to call it.”
He sat there shaking his head as I made my way to the center aisle. I turned back toward him. “Besides, I owed you that from the last time. One good lick deserves another.”
When I got in my car and started the ignition, Quinton startled me by preventing me from shutting the driver’s side with his hand.
“Zoe, you can’t leave me like that,” he said seductively, making me weak in the knees even though I was sitting down. “Let’s go back to my place and talk. Just talk.”
“I can’t, Quinton. I really do need to get home. It’s getting late.” I was determined to hold my ground until he started running his fingers through my hair and I lost it.
“Come take a ride with me,” he suggested. “I want to show you something special.”
“Something like what?” I inquired, full of curiosity.
“Something I’m positive you will like.” He could tell I was about to give in and leaned over to cut off my engine and remove my keys. He pulled me up out of the car. “There’s one little condition though.”
“Which is?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Let me blindfold you.”
Now common sense should have told me to take my ass home, but I didn’t. I followed him to his car, got in, and sat there patiently while he looked in the back for something to cover my eyes with.
“Can I please take this blindfold off now?” Quinton had stopped his car and walked around to open up the passenger door for me. I could feel the cool night air rush inside, in direct contrast to the heat that had warmed up the interior of the car during the ride over.
“Not yet,” Quinton replied. “Give me your hand.”
I reached my hand out. He pulled me up and out of the car. The first thing I realized was that we were standing on some sort of gravel. Now I knew what the noise had been when I heard something hitting up against his tires a few seconds before the car came to a halt. “Where are we, Quinton?”
“Practice some patience, my dear.” He led me by the hand and pushed my hips backward so I was sitting on the hood of the car, the engine still warm underneath my bottom. “I want to make sure your first look is a perfect one.”
“My first look at what?” I was getting nervous. Why, I have no idea. I had just got finished waxing his dick in a movie theater, after all. That’s the one thing I was sure he wasn’t planning to show me. I already had an eagle’s-eye view of that bad boy. “Come on, take the blindfold off, please!”
“Just one more second.” I heard him walking around, and then the driver’s-side door opened. A minute later I heard “Got to Give It Up” by Marvin Gaye blaring from the car stereo. Before I knew it, Quinton kissed me gently on the nape of my neck and climbed on the hood beside me. “I used to listen to this song all the time when I was a kid, eleven years old to be exact. I would bring a little tape player out here and play it over and over again while I worked.”
“Worked?” I was completely lost. “You had a job when you were eleven?”
“Sort of,” he replied, untying the blindfold and letting it fall in my lap. “I was working on this.”
My mouth fell open in awe at the vision before me. We were by the railroad tracks in SWATS beside an old, deteriorated and abandoned warehouse. Quinton’s headlights were on, illuminating the most magnificent mural I had ever seen. I covered my mouth to keep my tongue from falling out while I climbed down off the hood to take a closer look.
