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The doctor doesn’t seem to notice my agitation. “That doesn’t tell me anything. Everyone I know drinks less than I do.”
I turn my attention to Red, who’s now sitting in the Mustang. “We didn’t actually enter the car!” I snap.
Red glares at me. “Checking anyway.”
When I turn back to Dicer, he’s holding Trigger’s head in his hands, feeling the underside. “No bump, so I’m sure he’ll be fine. Red, get me some water.”
Red climbs out of the car, stalks over to a sink, fills a bucket with water and passes it to Dicer.
Dicer takes it with unsteady hands, then tosses it into Trigger’s face. “There that should do it!”
Trigger gasps, then shoots upright. “What the fuck happened?”
“Are you fucking kidding me!” I shout. “How the hell are you a doctor?”
Red’s staring down at us. “Got a mail order degree is what I heard.”
I look between the two. “You’re both idiots!” I point to the door. “Leave!”
“A thanks would have been nice,” Dicer mumbles as he heads out the door.
“She seems stressed. Let it go.” Red replies. At the doorway, he stops. “Stay the fuck away from my mustang. You hear me?”
He’s talking to Trigger, not me, but I answer for him. “Understood, now get out!”
Trigger groans and cradles his head between his hands. “What happened?”
“You fell off the hood of the car and hit your head.”
“Did I come?”
“Like Seabiscuit on a racetrack.”
He grins weakly as I help him to his feet. “I remember now. I gotta buy you a ring.”
I smile at him as I help him limp over to a chair next to a table. There’s a half-full bottle of Old Crow Kentucky Bourbon Whiskey on the top of it, which is as close to poison as one can get, but I consider it medicinal. Trigger needs a wake-up shot, and I don’t want him to drink alone. I find a couple of barely used glasses, sit in the chair across the table from him, pour a bit of the rot gut into each and toast him. “Are you seeing double?” I ask after I toss mine back.
He grins. “Yeah, but I’m lookin’ at your tits.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “You’re back, baby.”
“Almost. I hate to say it, but I have a serious headache. I don’t think I can manage a second helping.”
“You think that, but I’m very persuasive.” I refill our glasses, wince as the foul stuff slides over my tongue, then drop down on my knees between his thighs.
He sucks in his breath as I take his cock out of his jeans. “Ah fuck. You’re killing me here.”
“Just sit back and enjoy the ride,” I tell him before I slide his growing erection between my lips.
My approach to life is if I’m going to do something, I’m going to do it well – school, appearance, relationships. And yes, I’m scary good at blowjobs.
He groans as I take him deep, run my tongue up his cock while he hardens. He’s a decent size flaccid, but hard, he’s magnificent. I grip him at the base of his dick, pumping it in tandem with my mouth, feeling a wave of heat slide down to my pussy as he tangles his fingers in my hair.
I pull gently at the piercing with my teeth, then slide my tongue down to the root of his cock, then up the seam on the underside of it.
“Fuck, jesus that’s good,” he rasps as his hips buck.
“Mm hmm.” I file that move away for future reference as I gently pump his cock. My lips seal around him as I take him in and out of him mouth. Goosebumps erupt on his skin as my hand slides under his shirt.
