Annie Bradford & Mal Content

byParis Waterman©

"Have you sucked his cock? How's he taste?" she asked, pissed off that he would try to pawn her off on some strangers.

He answered honestly. "I haven't, so I wouldn't know . . . unless -- well, I've eaten his wife after he's fucked her, but I honestly can't say how he tastes; you can find out. What do you say?"

"It's a little late for more partying," she replied.

Heartened by her response, Mal added, "Not tonight, tomorrow. I can pick you up and take you to their place."

"I don't know," Annie replied thinking furiously about her appointments for the following day.

Mal kept talking. "Of course, you wouldn't be allowed to cum -- not for the longest time.

His words had Annie humping the air in front of her for the images he evoked in her mind had gotten to her. She knew her meeting ended at around four and that she might excuse herself from dinner by telling them she wanted to visit a relative in the city.

"She might let you tongue-fuck her asshole," he whispered, and the image in her mind of licking some strange woman's ass caused her to cum.

"All right!" she gasped, after taking a moment to compose her response. "What time?"

"Give me a phone number, I'll check with them and get back to you."

"When? I'll be at meetings all day."

"You have a cell phone?"

"Of course I do, but I don't want you calling me any time you want."

"Really? You think I'd call you any old time to see if you want a quick fuck?"

"I mean I don't live in Atlanta. I mean I don't want to know that you can reach me anytime you choose to."

"I won't call you but the one time. I give my word on that. I'd also say that you'll enjoy yourself and probably make another trip to Atlanta once you meet the Cloninger's."

"The Cloninger's - that's their name?"

"Yup," he said, tucking his wilted cock back into his trousers.

Annie gave him her cell number, and he drove her back to the hotel. When he'd parked the cab, she gave him a long tongue kiss goodnight.

"See you tomorrow, lover," she said and stepped lithely out of his cab and walked into the hotel, never looking back.

*

For more of Annie, turn to my short series: Atlanta.

Regards,

Paris

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