Free Jennifer Needs a Job by Huck Pilgrim Page B

pitiful
look.
    He gave her a wolfish smile. "You got to work
hard for the money, baby."
    Jennifer felt a stab of alarm in her chest.
Surely there was some way to please him that didn't involve letting
him fuck her throat. She took his cock from her mouth and greedily
nuzzled his ball sack. She slobbered on his hairy scrotum, drawing
each ball into her mouth with a loud smack. Looking up at him
hopefully, she used the flat of her tongue like a cat.
    Dray unfastened his belt. He opened his pants
and let them fall to the floor in a heap. Unbuttoning his shirt, he
tossed it on the floor, too. He was muscular and almost hairless,
except for a thick bush between his legs. His wet cock throbbed and
swayed.
    Jennifer hadn't intended to fuck him.
    Raising her knees to her chin, she burrowed her
bottom into the couch, whining and screwing her eyes shut. His
hands went to her knees, easily prying her legs apart. She felt his
fingers slip under the inseam of her shorts. Squirming with all her
might, she tried to twist out of his grasp, but his body was
already wedged between her legs.
    "Oh, please," she begged. "Please."
    She felt his tongue touch the hot spot between
her legs, and she melted into a puddle on the couch. Dray was on
his knees before her, his head buried between her thighs. She
relaxed her legs, slipping her bottom to the edge of the sofa. Her
whining turned into satisfied moans. Jennifer raised her shirt high
on her chest and palmed both her meaty breasts. "Dray," she hissed.
He was fucking her with three fingers, his tongue darting about on
her swollen clit. She raised her ass off the couch, clamped her
thighs on Dray's head, and came all in a great rush.
    He gave her a few minutes to recover on the
couch. She felt grateful for the time to regain her composure.
"Dray," she whispered, her voice thick with afterglow. "That was
amazing."
    He stood smiling at her, a tumbler of whiskey in
his hand.
    "We ain't done yet, baby," he said. He set the
glass on the coffee table, his swollen cock bobbing between his
legs.
    He took the waistband of her shorts in his
hands, and she raised her ass, so he could tug them down her legs.
He held up her pink panties and grinned. He mounted her and she
wrapped her legs around his hips. He whispered in her ear that he
liked white girls and pink lace. She raised her shirt to her chin
so her nipples could rub on his chest. Her orgasm had left her
drained, but it was pleasant to lay there and receive his thrusts.
She thought that she would get her mother to buy her a dozen more
panties made of different kinds of pink lace. She ran her fingers
down the small of his back.
    "You want the job, baby?" he whispered.
    " Dray ," she said. She could feel the heat
rising in her cheeks. "Don't do me like that."
    He snorted laughter. He moved his hips slowly,
giving her long even strokes. He took her breasts gently in his big
palms. She could feel her passion rising.
     
    "You don't want the job?" he asked.
    She didn't know how to answer.
    He moved his hips and she could feel herself
getting wetter. "Maybe I should get someone else?" Before she could
say anything, he gave her a dozen rapid strokes, moving his hips in
time with heavy grunts. She pressed her lips together, wrapping her
legs tighter around his hips.
    He settled into a slow rolling motion with his
hips.
    "I'm gonna get me someone else," he said.
    " Dray !"
    He smiled and ran his hand under her bottom.
Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. A siren wailed
somewhere outside. It got closer and then receded back into the
quiet.
    " Yes ," she whispered, her answer barely
audible.
    He kissed her lips, then licked her chin with
the tip of his tongue.
    Unable to look at him, she pointed her head to
the wall.
    He took her head in his hands, making her look
him in the eye.
    "What do you do?" he asked. "What is the
position you hold for me?"
    He fucked her with purpose.
    The couch squeaked with his effort.
    "I'm a whore," she said, her breath