- Shopping Bag ( 0 items )
"You're late. Hurry up and get out here," a female voice boomed from the room beyond. "And I want to see everything."
Brian froze. He suddenly felt a little vulnerable, like a starlet on a Hollywood casting couch. Yesterday at the bar, he'd spent his last five bucks drinking beer with his buddies and joking about what would happen if he got the job. His friends hassled him about getting hard while young women sketched his cock and had thrown out suggestions of what to think about if he started to get a woody. Root canals. A knee to the balls. Lorena Bobbitt.
But the time for laughs was over. He had a dog to feed and a landlord ragging his ass, and chickening out simply wasn't an option.
He ran a hand over his goatee and peeked through a crack in the door. Not a good idea. The woman who just might be his future boss had long blonde hair, the silky kind you could lose your fingers in while tasting her nipples or sliding your cock into her pussy. Her legs were long, too, and tan. They seemed to go on forever, then disappeared into a short summer dress. A gold chain glinted on her ankle as she tapped her bare foot impatiently on the cement floor. The twitching in his cock told him it had been way too long since his last fuck. He wished she'd turn around so he could see her face.
He gulped. Why the hell had he gone and looked at her? His slick palms fumbled with his belt, and when he tugged his jeans to his ankles, he lost his balance and crashed into a shelf full of clay pots. They rattled around and shimmied, but thankfully nothing broke.
You've never had a problem getting naked for a woman before. When all the clothes sat in apile on the floor, he looked down and groaned. "Down, fella. This ain't the time to be raring to go."
Posted April 3, 2010
No text was provided for this review.