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My mother always kept floral and herbal gardens when she was alive. These plants are my way of feeling close to her, and my gun shop, Blackwood Gun Center, was started in honor of my Da’s love of guns.
Pushing the bathroom door closed behind me, I strip down and turn the water on as hot as I can stand it. I walk to the wall opposite the shower and press a series of buttons to turn on my sound system, and Five Finger Death Punch’sBad Companypours from the speakers.
Turning it up louder, I hope it’ll drown out the voices in my head shouting for souls. It won’t serve me any good to hear these voices if I can’t get to the people who are the reason for the voices. Otherwise, I might step outside and blow some sorry fucker away for looking at me incorrectly.
Stepping inside, I duck my head under one of the six shower heads and close my eyes, trying to push away thoughts of my brother lying helpless in a hospital bed, fighting for his life. Fists clenched at my side, I throw my head back and roar.
It serves to soothe my soul, if only a little bit. I bang my fist against the wall and hear a gasp as I feel my dick clenched in tiny, cool hands.
I open my eyes to see Becca on her knees with my junk in her hands as she licks the head, looping her tongue through the hoop of my Prince Albert piercing.
“Becca, don’t.”
“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”
“I do. Don’t need this shit right now.”
“This is exactly what you need,” she says, sucking gently at the lorum on the underside of the base of my dick. Fuck, that feels so good.
“Hamilton, Becca. We said...shit!” I groan as she licks the opening in the head of my dick again while tugging on the hoop, bisecting it.
“Said what, baby?” she coos.
“We wouldn’t do this shit to him again,” I manage to get out as I bang my fist against the wall.
“Hamilton’s dick will never be...as good as...yours. Not as...hard...big or...tasty,” she says, sucking me into her mouth as she tries to work past the metal decorating my shit.
I swear to God, that’s why she’s hooked on my dick the way she is. Not that I haven’t fucked her brains out until she’s screaming for mercy, but she loves sucking my shit, running her tongue along the metal of the Jacob’s ladder before sucking my balls into her mouth and gently tugging the scrotal ladder with her teeth as she’s doing now.
I try my damnedest to pull back, but I’m a dead man walking here. I sink further and further to the back of her throat as her hands expertly massage my balls, and her jaws suck inward. She looks up at me with those big blue eyes and winks, and I’m a goner.
Fuck! I hate this bitch and what she does to me.
My fingers grip her head, twirling strands of long, dark hair in my fingers. As Becca sucks my dick and I close my eyes, it’s no longer Becca on her knees. Her tiny, petite frame with creamy, ivory skin and the large tits with strawberry-tipped nipples transforms.
In its place is an ebony goddess whose pretty brown skin has the coppery tint of a new penny and the smoothness of a pile of cinnamon freshly emptied from its container. The silky brown of Becca’s hair has been replaced by red coils that look and feel like yarn. Hair that I yearn to touch, to pull while buried deep in her mouth, or better yet, her hot pussy.
Because a woman like her, with all that sass and fire in her blood, has to have a pussy worth fighting for. My eyes open again, and rather than seeing the nurse's thick, plump, plum-colored lips, I see Becca’s thin ones.
“Fuck!” I grunt. She smiles at me, having no idea my vision was just ruined. Rather than saying shit and knowing I need this release, I close my eyes again and pretend until I’m spurting thick sheets of cum down her throat and pulling back to finish shooting it all over her face.
When I’m done, my chest is heaving. I press a hand against the shower wall to get my bearings.
Thanks to the shower water, Becca stripped out of her see-through top and bra.
“I’m ready,” she purrs, lifting her tits to me in a sacrificial offering.
“Get dressed,” I grumble.
“What?”
“You heard me. Get dressed.”
“Can’t fuck with my clothes on, Nitro,” she says cheekily.
“Get. The fuck. Out.”
She frowns as if misunderstanding me.
