Free Her Last Trick by Huck Pilgrim Page A

negotiations even mattered. After Dale knocked
him out, they would just take all his money.
    The big man stood and knocked back his
drink.
    Jenna focused on her sweaty glass.
    She was afraid to look. If he walked off, she
would have to lie to Dale. Make something up. They would have to
get back on the road again. Move on to the next little town. Sleep
in Dale’s van. Maybe this time they could head towards Florida.
California. Some place warm.
    Jenna hesitantly cut her eyes to the mark.
    He grinned. Tilted his head toward the door.
    Jenna’s mouth dried up. Negotiations did matter.
They mattered to her.
    Two. Hundred. Dollars.
    Her heart beat faster, her pussy grew moist. Now
she wanted to suck the big man’s cock. Wanted to somehow repay him
for what he had just given her. Slipping from the stool, Jenna
couldn’t suppress a big, silly grin. Two hundred
dollars.
    She forced herself not to look at Dale.

    Jenna briskly strode to the spot Dale had showed
her. It was in the alley behind the bar, past a small fenced in
area for dumpsters. The mark suggested spots of his own, but Jenna
kept a purposeful stride, rattling off excuses why those other
places wouldn’t do. Slipping into a small but surprisingly deep
brick alcove, she turned to face the mark.
    A streetlamp in the alley threw the alcove into
deep shadow. The mark looked around and took a deep breath. Turning
his back to the alley, he gazed at Jenna.
    She hugged her arms, though the night air was
still quite warm.
    Reaching for her ear, he stroked her neck. She
nuzzled his hand and grinned. She held her hand out, rubbing her
fingertips together.
    “Money?” she asked.
    The mark laughed and reached into his
pocket.
    “Right,” he said. “Can’t unsuck a cock.”
    Jenna looked at him curiously. She’d been saying
that to marks for weeks and could no longer remember where she got
it. It wasn’t hers, but she’d never heard anyone else say it
before.
    He started flipping through the wad of bills in
his hand, but then just handed all of the money to her. “Count it,”
he said.
    Jenna felt a warm buzzing in her pussy as she
flipped through the bills. Slipping the cash into her shorts, she
licked her lips.
    This was maybe her favorite part. Once in
Atlantic City she’d watched a young black man stroke his cock until
the big head glistened with something wet. She’d wanted to reach
out, touch the moisture with her finger. Put her finger in her
mouth. In Scranton she’d actually placed her hand on the throbbing
bulge in a truck driver’s pants. He’d had curly red hair and sky
blue eyes. As Jenna massaged his manhood, she watched him close his
eyes, and then his head suddenly rocked forward with the force of
Dale’s punch. At the Jersey shore, she’d only just reached out to
the black man’s penis before he went tumbling head over heels into
the sand.
    She watched this mark undo his belt. He opened
his pants, lowered his fly, then fished his penis out of his
shorts. Jenna gazed at his long cock. It was pink and veiny, a
thick shaft that arced gently toward her, its bulbous head swaying,
like some sort of naked charmer.
    Jenna felt a delicious rise in the alley’s
temperature.
    Looking into the mark’s eyes, she saw his
desire. It was just how she’d always imagined a boyfriend might
look at her. She reached out, gingerly touching the shaft with her
fingertips. She blew air gently from her lungs. Using both her
hands, she held her first dick. She felt its warmth. Felt it grow
in her hands.
    She listened for the soft padding of footsteps.
Hearing nothing, she quickly bent over and nuzzled her cheek on his
cock.
    Jenna stood. Chuckled.
    She was beside herself with her own good
fortune. Her cheek tingled where his cock had been. She let go of
his penis, then wiped her hands on her shorts.
    She grinned at him.
    A dog barked somewhere far away.
    For the first time since she’d started working
with Dale, she considered what she’d do if he didn’t show up.