AllFreeNovel
Share Us
God.
There is no way a cock like that fits inside a person.
I mean, I'm sure how huge her screen is doesn't help anything, but even that aside ...
"He's a monster," I breathe, staring endlessly at the screen. I can't tear my eyes away. It's mesmerizing ...
She pulls it back to stare down at it with a naughty grin, and I could just see she is replaying their last fucking in her mind. Eeewww...I love Lisa and all, but I really don't want to think about her fucking. There are some things I just don’t want in my head, KWIM?
I push away from the table.
"I gotta head out," I slur, and kissing Ashley and Lisa on the cheeks, I take the elevator to the main floor, which totes messes with my stomach; have you ever been drunk on an elevator? You feel like you're flying—and then out onto the street. I hesitate for a minute, trying to decide whether to text for an Uber or walk home, and finally decide to hell with it, I'll go for a walk. It's a damn nice day – not muggy or cold or windy or snowing, which has to be some sort of New York City weather miracle – so I might as well enjoy it, right? Plus, it'll give me a chance to burn off some of this alcohol.
Home, in Turtle Bay, is like 30 blocks away, so I guess it's a good thing I'm wearing my Tieks instead of stilettos, right? I take off down the street toward Grand Central, enjoying the bustle of New Yorkers passing me – god, I really am drunk if I'm waxing on about how pleasant I find other New Yorkers – when suddenly, someone runs smack into the back of me.
"What the fuck?" I slur-yell, my Louis Vuitton purse swinging and then it's gone from my arm! Some punk ass kid with a black hoodie pulled up over his head is taking off down the street with my precious Louis Vuitton!
I take off running after him.
"Stop! You goddamn thief, come back here!"
I should probably save my breath so I can run faster, but shit, I can't keep quiet. That man just stole my fucking purse!
As I run, my drunk legs wobbling underneath me with every step, I suddenly hear weird noises. Like, it's New York City, right? I'm used to noises. But this ... this isn't something I've ever heard before.
My head whips around just in time to see...
A cowboy on a horse come tearing past me, a lasso spinning above his head.
How drunk am I?
90
Chase
"God, are they ever going to show up?" Jason asks, hooking a boot as he leans up against the horse trailer. "Finding a parking spot here in New York is fucking insane, and I'm pretty sure the meter maid is going to notice us soon. We either need to keep going or someone needs to show up."
I nod my agreement, but didn't really have much else to say. Jason's always the one to chat a lot. Me? I just like to take it all in.
Speaking of taking it in ...
I admire the ass on a girl as she goes walking by, blonde hair swinging with every step. Damn, she's fine. Are all New York girls that fucking hot? I'm never leaving New York if that's the case.
I just start to look back at Jason – never a good idea to openly leer at a girl – when something catches my eye. I look back just in time to see some guy in a black hoodie deliberately run into the back of Sexy New York Girl, jostling her purse loose, and then taking off with it.
She's running down the street, yelling her head off, and all I can think is, I can't just let that jackass steal from a lady!
So, I use the tools I have in my disposal. What else is a cowboy to do?
Meaning, I pull the ramp out with one quick move, bumping into the mass of humanity that is New York as I back up, pulling it out to set it on the ground.
"Sorry, sorry," I toss over my shoulder as people curse a blue streak. I feel bad, but I can't let that stop me. Sexy New York Girl needs me!
"What the hell are you doing?" Jason asks, bewildered, as I rip the door open to the back of the horse trailer, grab the halter of Moonshine, and back him down the ramp. I clip reins into place; if I'm going to ride bareback, I should at least have reins, and grab my coiled lasso from the hook on the inside of the horse trailer.
"I've got a girl to save," I say, maneuvering over to the side of the horse trailer so that I can use it as a step stool to get up onto him. Moonshine whinnied in alarm; he and I don't exactly ride bareback all that often, let alone in the streets of New York, but I gave him a quick pat on the neck. "Whoa, boy. It's okay. It's gonna be okay."
I swing my leg over, grab the reins, and take off down the street, letting the sheer size of Moonshine do the work of clearing a path for us. Do you know how loud hooves with horseshoes on them are on concrete?
