Originally I was going to post this on this past Sunday, however, with the Trayvon Martin verdict, I felt it was inappropriate to post something sexy and salacious.
This snippet comes from the upcoming first-person book, Blow by Blow: Diary of a Call Girl. It’ll be out sometime next month.
For those who used to follow me on fanfiction.net, please e-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org. I need to talk to you about something regarding the book.
I placed small kisses on his dick because I know he probably likes the tease. His cock twitched at the feeling and Randall moaned a little. I licked my lips one last time, before I take the mushroom-tip inside my hot mouth, creating a sharp hiss from Randall. You like that, don’t you, motherfucker? Damn, I’m good.
I placed most of him—hence, I said most—into my mouth and let the sucking begin! Up and down I go and I add my hands to it, creating a twisting motion. I spit a few times to get him lubricated but I don’t make it obvious like those hoes do in those ghetto pornos. It’s good so far. I’m sucking and he’s enjoying; we’re keeping pretty good company. But then he does the dreadful bullshit that knocked him off his Adonis status.
Oh no, he didn’t. I know he’s not trying to stumble through Sharon! I had the same problem with Mariah and now it’s with Sharon! Motherfucker! Now I need to get a new name. Suggestions, anyone?
But then Ran-asshole here decided he’s going to help me by placing his hand on my head like I need the assistance when I’m trying to suck. Just because my head is naturally bobbing up and down, it doesn’t mean I need your help, asshole. Why must guys feel the need they gotta push down our heads, anyway? Don’t they realize we’ll bite that shit off if they keep at it?
And to top it off, Randall here is a screamer. Oh Lord. I’m going to hear it from Aaron in a couple of hours.
Randall lost his mind and I continued to suck, damn near getting locked jaw because I’ve been down there for so long and then it happened – he exploded in my mouth. Wow. This is one really short date. I always swallow and don’t think it’s because I prefer, neither. It’s in the contract. Yeah, believe that shit? Briana put in the fucking contract.
So anyway, I swallowed and climbed back to Randall. I lay beside him and give him a moment to collect his thoughts. He’s all heavy-breathing and sweating like he just ran a damn marathon. He looked over at me and I giggled for him.
“Did you like that?” I smiled.
“Hell yes, I liked it,” Randall winked back, “give me ten minutes, though. I’m a little worn out.”
I’ve heard this before. Give me ten minutes, baby and I’ll tear you up. Bull-motherfucking-shit. You ain’t going to tear a goddamn thing up, Limpy. You’re better off rolling over and calling it a night.
Reaching for the remote, I quickly find the Cartoon Network and begin watching cartoons. Hell, I gotta do something while Limpy’s taking a breather. Might as well enjoy Tom and Jerry.