Hooch Love
Gina liked her bourbon the same way I did:
a brimful waterglass, with a couple of ice cubes hanging on for dear life.
we’d already emptied a bottle of Jim Beam. she brought the blow
out; we snorted a few lines, cracked another bottle.
“are you gonna come by the club tomorrow?” she asked. “work’s more
fun when you’re there.”
“we’ll see,” I said. “depends on if I can finally get the Muse to cooperate. the bitch’s
been avoiding me for a while now.”
“perhaps, I can be your new Muse,” she smirked and her hand went straight for my crotch.
she had no subtlety, no finesse; those were reserved for work.
she swigged down her drink, then shoved her
tongue down my throat. she clenched her fist around my prick, forcing my
blood to migrate south despite the alcohol in my body offering some resistance.
without wasting a second, she climbed on my lap, still sucking on my tongue.
I was hers to do as she pleased and she fucking knew it—she had no qualms about
taking advantage of it.
my hands went straight on her firm buttocks, burrowing under her mini skirt.
she sat deeper onto my crotch, grinding with a purpose, and I sucked on
her tongue. clothes started flying, landing on the dust- and coke-covered floor.
with her, whiskey dick was never a problem; she knew how to get me
all hard and ready.
Horror Sleaze Trash 