Kat
These fucking bitch men sure do like to say “bitch” a lot. They like reminding themselves of what they think they are or some shit. Wonder why they need so much reminding?
Not that Jason’s much of a slouch in the manhood department, at least the physical manhood department.
Tonight, he’s doing an okay job in the practical manhood department as well. That stunt-style drivin’ wasn’t too bad, even if he likes to ham it up like he’s on the set of some fucking third-rate car chase movie.
On the other hand, treating real-life peril like a movie isn’t a bad way to make my juices flow, but I think Jason’s gonna have to wait a bit before I wrap my lips around his ample cock again, despite what he’s thinking.
Okay, so my mouth is a bit dry after that nice little chase punctuated by some of that loud-ass gunfire that I’m getting all too used to these days.
I can tell Jason wants to put his hand on my back, or maybe hold my hand like some love-struck little kid as he walks quickly across the parking lot.
He wants me to go faster, upset that I cramped his style in front of his old bald lil’ buddy. I’m showing him by keeping up with what he thinks is a fast stride.
“Come on, let’s go!”
That’s what he has to settle for, more hollering at my ass.
“The quicker we get into the room, the quicker we get laying low, the better,” he proceeds to seethe out in a gravelly whisper.
I’ll reiterate: what a fuckin’ ham. All these new sides of Jason coming out tonight are kinda growin’ on me, though, and I know there’s one part of him that’s probably growing as we walk, just thinking about what’s gonna happen when we get into whatever shit-ass back roads motel room is waiting for us.
I watch for signs of walking funny.
“What you fucking looking at? You’ll get plenty of opportunity to take it all in soon enough.” Jason’s giving me a crooked smirk.
“Doesn’t this place specialize in whiskey or something? They’re advertising their whiskey-ness in neon.”
Jason’s smirk drops into his own resting bitch face. Fuck it, he’s so fond of that word, I’m gonna use it, thinking and speaking about his as I please.
“I told you to let me handle this, and you ignore that and get out of the car with me again. And I don’t say shit! The least you could do is let that pretty mouth rest for like five goddamn minutes so it’ll be in good condition for my throbbing cock.”
I do my best to make my own face into something resembling a crooked Jason-like smirk.
“My crooked mouth is feelin’ awful dry. I think some of that roadhouse whiskey is in order to prepare me properly for our room fun.”
“Room fun? It’s this weird bullshit I’m talking about! You’re gonna get us killed, or worse, with your nonsense. You better wait in the fucking car for both our good.” He shakes his head. “You of all people should know better than this.”
I look back at the parked vehicle, like I’m even considering getting the fuck back inside. Very little good can happen inside that thing, as I’ve been learning slowly.
Maybe a little good happens there, but that doesn’t involve me sitting in there like a quiet little lady by my fucking self as fucking Jason goes and plays cowboy biker or whatever the fuck he’s planning to do in that Whiskey Place nightmare.
I look back at Jason’s face. He looks serious. Fuck, he looks shit-scared.
Maybe he has a point.
“Just what kinda barroom dealings are you planning on up in there that are manly and important that I need to hide out in that death-mobile?”
I watch for Jason to start getting angry, because that could be kinda fucking hot. Fuck, it would definitely be hot.
If he wants for me to start up that blowjob again at some point soon, he has to give me a little bit of fire.
I mean, gunplay is one thing, but I don’t like that dumbly violent crap. I like to watch a man’s face turn into passionate anger in the intimacy of a sketchy biker bar parking lot.
But no, still just fear. The motherfucker’s still just shit-scared. Maybe of the situation, maybe for me and my safety, or maybe of just how I can mess it up somehow.
I don’t mess shit up as a rule. But nobody’s perfect, and rules have exceptions.
“Fear can be good,” I purr, tryin’ to throw in a bit of menace to maybe inspire the blood to start flowing to Jason’s nether regions.
“More weird shit. What the fuck are you talking about?”
I nod back toward the car.
“I see you’re scared. And fuck, that makes me a little scared. And, I’ll say it, a lot turned on. Two things you want: the rest of that blowjob, and for me to wait in hiding in the car. The least you could do is step with me back there for a few.”
I can see Jason seriously considering the possibilities. I’d like to think I can see his cock expanding through his jeans as well.
Jason nods a bit too slowly, if I do fucking say so myself. And I realize that in spite of how we fell so easily back into each other’s arms, I don’t know for sure who he really is anymore.
But if I know him at all, he’ll never pass up a chance for a blowjob.
“So,” I ask him, “is that a yes?”