Page 83 of Bad Cruz


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My cock, which had absolutely zero business getting up again not even ten minutes after I masturbated, already poked at her stomach between us, lazily swinging itself from side to side as it tried to catch her attention like an eager puppy.

“Holy cheat-balls. That thing’s huge.”

She touched my crown with the tip of her finger through my briefs, before jerking her hand away, like it was going to clamp its jaws on her.

“Seriously, you can put it on a leash and take it for a walk downtown.”

“Don’t you dare make another Weiner joke,” I warned, playing with the hem of her shirt for no reason at all other than the obvious—I had fondling privileges today.

“That thing has a mind of its own.” She lifted a speculative eyebrow, looking down between us. “Can I touch it again?”

You can take it home, put it in an aquarium, and call it Sally if it makes you happy.

“Absolutely. You can pet it, too. Squeeze. Lick. Suck. Fondle. It doesn’t bite, but it does occasionally spit. I’ll give you a heads-up before it does.”

She looked up at me excitedly, her eyes zinging with exhilaration. “There was a pun there, Dr. Cruz. Good job.”

She just talked to me like I was her preschool student.

…and I just plastered a goofy smile on, also like a preschool student.

Her long, pointy fingernails ran down my six-pack to my briefs, making my skin prickle deliciously. She slipped her hand into the fly, jerking my erect cock out like it was a chicken that was about to become her lunch.

I didn’t comment on the lack of finesse. Didn’t want to make her feel self-conscious.

She stroked it gently, mesmerized by it.

She was so fucking beautiful I didn’t know what to do with myself. Having her touch my dick after fourteen years of imagining it happening, did weird things to my chest.

“Is it good for you?” she murmured.

“It was good about three minutes ago, when you were sitting on the bed, simply existing. Now that you’re touching my dick, we are deep into divine territory, spiraling onward.”

I watched her intently.

She flipped the covers off of us so she could take a better look at my dick. She shifted and sat up straight as she played with it, her yellow hair falling across her face like glittering sunrays.

My cock grew more engorged and heavy in her hand. That bastard had its own pulse at this point.

“I’m going to lick it now.”

“Please,” I grumbled, my voice breaking mid-word.

I didn’t even care.

The things I was willing to do in that moment to get her mouth to touch my dick worried me, frankly. Let’s just say Mrs. Warren wasn’t safe from a violent and quick death if Tennessee said the word.

Speaking of the wonderful state, the girl who was named after it lowered her head, holding my cock still as she gave the crown a quick lick.

Stars burst across my vision. I caressed her hair as gently as humanly possible to encourage her. She lowered herself again, her tongue swirling around the crown.

“I’m doing it wrong.” She looked up at me, biting on the side of her lip.

“Sweetheart, even if you danced around it to try to make it rain, it’d still be perfect.”

“I know what I’m supposed to do. I’ve seen enough porn. I just…it’s so big.”

“You don’t have to take the entire thing in. Cover the base with your hand.”

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