jean gunnhildr

“You should tell them you’re going for tacos.” As the phone started ringing, I looked over at Carol on the bed. She was on her back, facing me, legs spread wide, with two fingers spreading her labia exposing her bright pink labia. She mouthed the words “eat tacos” as I tried to talk to my Mom. Mom was fine with me not being home, but she always tried to tell me all about her life. I have no idea what my Mom said. My eyes were fixed on Carol’s slender fingers massaging her clit. I had dropped my towel and was stroking my now fully hard cock furiously as I watched Carol’s back arch as she came quietly. A significant wet spot appeared on the comforter. Mom prattled on on the phone.

He’d already showered so his short messy hair had been combed back and was still damp. He was wearing his slacks and belt, but no button up shirt on yet. He liked to wait until his hair was a bit drier before he put it on. As he pulled cups and the coffee tin from the cupboards above, she couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles shifted on his back, the sparse long hairs that sprouted from his back and shoulders. He only got to the gyms on the weekends, but he walked around job sights a lot for his work, so he had a nice balance between muscle and leanness. Before last night she wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but now she sat there with her mouth open, staring like a dead fish.

The two of them went upstairs to find another bounty hunter looking for Noah. “Is the Wandering Spirit here?” he’d ask those around him, with the glint of blood money in his eyes. Valia and Shannon were keeping their distance, not wanting to get hassled.