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Maneater: Thick like a Snickers


Maneater: Thick like a Snickers



K.C. Hall









Copyright 2010 by K.C. Hall

All rights reserved solely by the author. The author guarantees all contents are original and do not infringe upon the legal rights of any other person or work. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the permission of the author.

This novel is a work of non-fiction and fiction. Any references to real events, businesses, organizations, and locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality.

ISBN: 978-0-557-45446-4























In my pursuit of personal gratification I have had many experiences, both

sexual and otherwise. The romantic and sexual chronicles, as my man side

came out, are here for your laughter. I make no apologies for my lifestyle

or decisions I’ve made; I’ve grabbed life by the balls, and then I licked

‘em! As has been my habit for years, I use descriptors or occupations.

The names have been changed to protect the innocent, the married, and

the not-so-well endowed.


Contents

1. The Cable Guy

2. The Ice Cream Guy

3. The Bull Rider

4. Seabiscuit

5. The Wrestler

6. The Leather Vest guy

7. Bucky

8. The Crispy Critter

9. The Army Guy

10. The Nose Picker

11. The Travel Agency Manager

12. The Millionaire

13. Colonel Bob

14. The Detective

15. The Mechanic

16. The Paraplegic

17. Floppy Cock

18. The Hairy Little Armenian

19. The Magician

20. The Doctor

21. The Oil Guy

22. The Rancher

23. The Cop

24. The Graphic Artist

25. Dutch

26. The Computer Guy

27. The Oil Rig Guy

28. The Clitoral God/The Tampon

29. The Tampon’s Fat Friend

30. The Golfer and the Fat Elvis

31. The Reporter

32. The Plastic Surgeon

33. The Security Guard

34. The Airplane Mechanic

35. The End? Hardly!


One recent night, I was having supper with one of my closest

friends, Lola. We were enjoying our gyros and wine at my

favorite Greek restaurant and laughing out loud. I am of the

mindset that living life that way is the only way to live! So as we sat

there talking, laughing and working our way through a couple of glasses

of communion wine, somehow, something prompted my memory of a

delivery driver that worked for Haagen-Dazs ice cream. This would have

been about 1988 and I was 17. I’m sitting at a stopl-…you know what?

That one will have to wait until its time. That story made her do two

things. 1) Laugh. A lot! And 2) she suggested that I write a book on my

sexcapades and relationship casualties.

I’ve always been an open person, much to the chagrin of my parents. I

will talk about damn near anything, damn near any place, with just about

anybody. It’s been less than two months since I was talking with a friend

that has been married for twenty-four years and she was telling me all

about how she felt like she and her husband are no longer in that sexual

groove. She wanted advice on how to bring back that spark, something

to make his head spin. I asked her when the last time was that she licked

his asshole. She was appalled and disgusted! My first question was, “How

the fuck do you go twenty-four years without licking his asshole, much

less not even to have seen it?!? Just exactly how the fuck do you give a

blowjob?!?” After we hung up, I wondered how she was still married after

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K.C. Hall

years of boring, standard sex and then I called another friend, Tony. I’m

recounting the previous conversation with him (only because those two

friends will never meet) and he was amazed that she hasn’t participated

in ass play, either. We carry on this conversation, swapping sex stories,

likes, dislikes, firsts and partner reactions while I’m doing my thing. As

I’m loading my groceries on the conveyor belt at the cashier, Tony asks,

“Where are you, Nikki?” I said, “At Vons.” He busted out laughing and

said, “Goddamnit, that’s what I love about you, Nikki! You’ll talk about

anything! Doesn’t matter who’s around!”

For years, I’ve been likened to men. My attitude toward relationships, my

tendency to run away (move, change phone numbers, trade in my car for

something else or even change jobs if need be) if I start falling for a man,

my quick ability to shut down emotionally and my total lack of interest

in facing a man during sex if I’m not in a relationship with him has made

this a quick connection for many. As long as I have been dating, I’ve had

this tendency because I decided that it was better to run and not risk it

than to stay and maybe get hurt, right? Over the years, I’ve missed out on

a few great men by indulging this foible of mine. I’ve even missed out on

a few marriage proposals because I turned into a big pussy and left them

without a trace. I’m working on not doing that!

My actions have also left my friends sitting slack-jawed in amazement as I

would execute one quick slice of my sharp tongue and effortlessly move on

to the next man. I know what you’re thinking. You probably suppose that

comes from some shortcoming my upbringing. You’re wrong. I was very

lucky. My parents met on a blind date, married four weeks later and they’re

still together some forty-seven years later. You couldn’t walk through

the living room of my home without someone telling you that you were

beautiful, brilliant, funny, sweet or loved. I had a supremely nurturing

childhood that made me beyond self-assured and more than a bit arrogant,

and it made the world quite a shock for me when I got out there and not

everyone saw me as perfect! Granted, they are few and far between…

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Maneater: Thick like a Snickers

There are three things you should know about me at this point. The first

is that I’m full-figured, thick like a Snickers and considered very pretty by

most standards, even if you don’t dig a curvy woman, odds are that you will

still find my face to be well-worth looking at. I look very much

like the chocolate sister on the cover of the book.

This lends itself to the second thing. Men tend to dig me and my confidence.

Third? Well, very rich and very old men really enjoy me for some reason!

Another thing that should be explained now, because it will likely come

out given that this book is about me and what has happened on the way

to and in the bedroom, is that in addition to all that I do and have done,

career-wise, I am also a professional psychic. No, this isn’t some spiritual

book under the guise of a sex comedy; it’s simply a fact that needs to be

known because should I say something about giving a reading or refer to

my gifts, I am sometimes not talking about the gifts from men. You’ll

know the difference as you read further, but I didn’t want you confused

and wondering. Again, I put everything out there!!

From the time I lost my virginity to the time I got married, there were many.

Many. Many! Conservatively, I’d say over 100. I was always cautious, I

always used rubbers, and I’ve always been diligent on screenings…always

negative…can I get a shout out for clean punani?!?

This book isn’t intended as porn; however there will be those that see it

that way. It’ll be easy for you to tell which ones were more recent because

of the details I was able to remember, though some of the ones from my

wild child years were pretty memorable. Yes, there’s a lot of sex and a good

deal of cussing…it’s about me, what are the choices?!? I hope you enjoy my

retelling of my conquests and the events leading up to the interludes. Oh,

and since I write like I talk, reading this book will be like sitting with me as

though we were chatting over fried chicken and beer…a one-sided chat! Go get

your beverage of choice, snuggle down and enjoy! So now, without further

delay and in no particular order, I give to you my past loves and lays…

3







The Cable Guy

Satisfaction rating: 1 penis

I met the Cable Guy and we immediately hit it off. He looked

like Omar Epps but a bit thinner. We talked for hours

and one night, he invited me over to his house to watch a movie. I

suggested pizza and he planned on Hitman as the movie for the night.

That was also the night I discovered Jeff Dunham, the ventriloquist.

That man is hysterical! Dun-haaaaaahm! So we decide it will be pajama

attire with pizza and movies. I get to his house and we eat, watch the

movie and hang out, completely uneventful! I had gotten a Brazilian that

morning and you’re supposed to wait 24 hours before having any kind of

sex, yes that includes sex with yourself, you can’t work out, do anything

excessively sweaty, etc., so I wasn’t thinking about sex when I went over

there. Soon, we were kissing and hands began to roam. We make our way

to his bedroom and he pulls out a box of condoms, checks the expiration

date and we’re good to go! He does a half-assed job at eating pussy, I

don’t cum, he gets hard-ish, I get bored and want to wrap things up and

so I start giving him a blow job. The thing is it feels really weird to me! I

can’t figure it out, but I know something just isn’t right with this dick.

The room was dark, so I wasn’t able to look at it closely, more just use my

fingers, and I didn’t want to be rude. It has been my experience that men,

especially ones that are on the waaaaay low end of the average scale, are

sensitive if you ask them what’s wrong with their penis. I am forced to

pay a great deal of attention to the head of his cock, and I finally realized

he was uncircumcised. It was so weird to me! I knew aardvarks existed,

but I’d never seen one up close and personal! So he climbs on top, starts

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K.C. Hall

doing his impression of fucking and I’m not impressed, hell I can barely

feel anything! Again, he’s a nice guy so I let out a single and very slight

moan so he thinks he’s doing a bang up job at banging me. Not the case!

The moan was out of boredom, but he presumes it was of pleasure. So

anyway, he finished his part and he’s lying next to me. I’m thinking about

where my pajama bottoms may be and I remember the living room. As

I’m plotting my escape, because there’s no way I’m taking it any further

with this guy…I don’t care how nice he is, I just can’t do the bad sex/small

dick thing! Nope, just can’t! So he is lying there next to me, he scratches

his balls and is still again. A moment later, he starts gearing up for a big

sneeze, and he puts his hand to his nose. One big sneeze coupled with a

respectable fart and he’s quiet for a moment.

“When did you pull out gum?” he asks.

“I didn’t,” I answer in bewilderment.

My ha- Oh. Never mind. The rubbers are mint flavored.”

Oh. Yeah. No gum. Did you just shit yourself?” I ask.

He rolls out of bed, lands on the floor with a solid thud, and crawls into

his bathroom. Apparently, I’ve embarrassed him.

About a week more of us hanging out and he gave me a copy of his house

key. He would get his period and turn into a moody chick, so I’d retreat

to other forms of entertainment. His two sons would come over and since

I thought they were complete assholes, I would stay away on the premise

of being a good girl and wanting to allow him the freedom to spend time

with his kids. One Saturday morning, I called to say good morning before

I had to get ready to shower and go work a psychic fair at a local bookstore.

He was moody and I wasn’t up for it. I quickly hung up with him, finished

my coffee and got myself together to go work. Throughout the day, I

would try and call him to say hi and see if he was still being a little bitch.

Always got his voicemail, so by the time I got home that evening about 7,

I was done with him.

Sunday at work, one of my officers was in dispatch and I’m explaining to

him what happened and he asked, “It’s really that easy for you? I mean to

just cut him out like that?”

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Maneater: Thick like a Snickers

“Yeah…Why?” I ask, more than a little surprised that he would even have

to ask.

Do you have a dick, or are you really a girl?” he wanted to know.

Monday morning, I taped his key to a piece of paper that said, “We tried”,

and dropped it in the mail. Monday afternoon, he called and seemed a

bit humble, as though he knew full fuckin’ well that he fucked up with

me. He said that he just needed some time with himself. I asked him

what I had said about him being a whiney little girl. He didn’t answer

that question but did say that he didn’t like the closeness I shared with my

friends and mom, and that he didn’t like the fact that I discussed his penis

size. At that point, I giggled because I remembered that I had referred to

it as his wee-nis to Gabby, a friend of mine.

I said, “Okay, first! For the record, I never discussed the size of your

penis; I discussed you not being circumcised! I’d never seen one wearing

a hoodie and so I was surprised! Second, maybe I would have discussed

the size had there been more to it, but the turtleneck it wore is what really

stumped me!”

Silence.

I mailed your key back to you this morning.”

7

The Ice Cream Guy

Satisfaction rating: 2 ½ penises but the free ice cream made it worth it

Remember when I mentioned the ice cream delivery guy? Well, now

you’ll get the dirt. I was seventeen and I was sitting at a traffic light. I

looked in my rear view mirror and saw a guy that I thought was cute and

so I waved. He had a bald head before it was in

style and a skinny goatee around his thick

lips. He waved back and I continued on, thinking nothing more

of it. I pulled into the apartment complex of a friend and went inside. At

that time, in the late 80’s I would leave my car windows down and usually

leave my handbag on the front seat as I ran in someplace. Stupid, I know!

So anyway…I get back out to my car and there is a note on the steering

wheel. I read it and it was the guy from the traffic light, his name and

pager number. That evening, I paged him and we started talking regularly.

We would meet in a parking lot during his lunch break and we’d wind

up in the back of his freezer truck bumping uglies. It was the middle of

summer in central Texas, my car had no A/C and I was seventeen…what

was I supposed to do?!? Ever have someone go down on you in a freezer?

The icy air around those warm, wet and wonderful bits? It’s fabulous! And

after we’d finish, he’d give me an ice cream bar. Win/win, see?

He had always told me that he didn’t have a phone and, being young, I

believed him. Hell, the man had to keep his truck in 5th gear by using a

necktie to keep it from popping back into neutral so how the hell could he

afford a phone?!? So we’d spend a lot of time together and about as much

time in the back of the truck.

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K.C. Hall

When the new phone books came out that year, I looked up his name, just

to see, you know? There it was…his name and a woman’s name. Fucker

was married. Of course, now I’d have seen that “no phone” bit for the

bullshit it was. So I did what any responsible floozy would do and I wrote

down the number, called his wife and told her everything. She asked that

I come over and I did. Again, stupid! She could have shot me and who

would have known? Because I sure as fuck wasn’t telling my family that

I was about to confess to a woman that I’d been fucking her husband!

Anyway, my goal was not to hurt her, mind you. If my husband were

cheating on me, I would absolutely want to know! I did for her what I

would have wanted done for me. Ultimately, he was furious with me and

she left him.

Age granting us all certain wisdoms, if I had known then what I know now

would I have done him anyway? Yes, but only after asking more questions,

investigating him a bit when things didn’t mesh; I really like to win! And

I probably would have gotten a pint of ice cream rather than a bar.

10

The Bull Rider

Satisfaction rating: 5 penises

I met the Bull Rider back in the late 90’s. He was just about right! I

mean him being a black cowboy was sexy

alone, especially since he was bow-legged

and had pretty white teeth.We flirted for a long time,

though never acted on anything until one day he

stepped up to the plate and let me know he thought I was pretty damned

hot. Yes, he was married and I knew his wife. She was a total bitch and

I had first-hand knowledge of what a remarkable cunt she could be, both

to him and in general. I had no problems starting a trifle with him. It all

started innocently enough, with his statement of never having cum as a

result of a blow job, which I took as a challenge. We meet one afternoon

and I got into his truck. His day job was in law enforcement, so there

was something he had always wanted to do. We drove to his work and he

took me to this big caged area where weapons and miscellaneous leather

gear were kept. We started kissing and I pushed him into an office chair.

I start working on his jeans and he was very willing to let me help lower

them. He was already hard, so I went right to it. I was diligent in my work

and, being the overachiever that I am, I didn’t stop until I had results…

for-fucking-ever. It took him so damned long to cum! Whether it was his

stamina or their lack of effort, I can’t say. What I can say is that I’ve made

the impossible orgasm a reality for him. When I was finished, I was sitting

on my feet, grinning from ear to ear I suspect, as he tried to stand. When

he finally got on his feet, he began trying to pull up his jeans. With little

success, he slapped at his legs, saying, “I can’t feel my legs!!”

11



Soon, it became something that was the occasional fuck, and that worked

for me! He would pick me up and we’d get a hotel room. The first hotel

room we had was the first time he flung me. I like that! He’s got a slender

build, so I didn’t anticipate as much raw strength as he has. Though, in my

defense, at the time I didn’t know he rode bulls in recent times past. So

I get to the hotel room after him and I go to take a shower…again, clean

punani! When I got out of the shower, I put on some sexy number and go

into the room. He’s there, candles lit and clothes on. He pushed me onto

the bed, tore at the sexy (and expensive) lace and dove in head first. He

was relentless! I came quite easily for him, and after two orgasms, and me

begging for a break just for a moment, he stood up, grabbed my ankles,

and in one quick move, the next thing I know I’m on my stomach on the

bed. He grips my hips, pulls me onto all fours and is in me like a shot! It

was so hot! No faking interest in making it more than it was; no talking,

no asking who my Daddy was, and no asking if I liked it because odds are,

if you have to ask, I don’t. After he finished, he was tired and needed a

short nap. I took that opportunity to get cleaned up. When I came back

in the room, he was starting to doze off, so I waited until he was out and

then I was out the door and on my way home. You’ve gotta love a man

with a good dickthat knows how to use it and not give you shit when you

leave immediately after!

The next time, his wife went out of town and we decided to make a night

of it. That’s the night I earned my rug burns! There’s a reason they’re

called that, they hurt and they take time to heal! One of the many things

I like about the Bull Rider is that there’s no bullshit. It is what it is and

there’s no reason to make more of it, even for show. I knew going over

there what I was getting into. Of course, the reality of it hit me when he

backed up his SUV to the open garage door and I crawled out of the back

and straight into the garage! No biggie, I was gonna get to tap that again.

That night, it was all about the floor. Well, an aggressive blow job and

the floor. He didn’t cum for me that way that night, but that was because

he wanted to pin me down and nail me from behind. As I have already

said, my Standing Rule is unless I’m in a relationship with a man I don’t

care about facing him or even kissing him during sex. Kissing him is fun,

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Maneater: Thick like a Snickers

though! I like it when he puts his hand on my throat while we kiss. That

gets me hot! Afterward, I wanted to go home to sleep in my own bed.

Here we go…crawl in the back of the SUV, wait until he turns off of his

street. Clear? Cool. Over the back seat and into the passenger seat. *Sigh*

The things I will do for a good piece of ass!

Over time, I thought about him and how we were, and so I decided to try

and track him down and was successful in finding him on MySpace, noted

that he was single, located his phone number and left a voice mail for him

to call me. Several days later, he did. Turns out he’s still married (no big

deal, I just found it interesting when I saw “single” under status, because

he’d always said it was cheaper to keep her due to marriage length and

retirement) and she’s still a bitch. This is no surprise to me! He came over

a few nights after we talked and we caught up on times past. I actually

had a date that night and hadn’t expected him to stay as long as he did. I

was wearing a pair of knee high black leather boots, to which I refer as my

stripper boots – I have three pairs - with a black pair of just-below-the-knee

pants that hug the curves and a boob shirt. This is one of those outfits that

we, as women, all own. I have several, but this is my favorite…it’s one of

those outfits that commands attention. “You will notice me!” it says. We

talked for quite some time that night and I stood up my at-the-time sugar

daddy via text message. Hey, I had the Bull Rider’s full attention right

there, why would I want to leave to go get it?!? Sadly, that night I didn’t

get any. But…There’s good news! I ultimately did, and it was the best he

ever gave me!

Hands down, my favorite time with him was when he came over to my

last apartment some months ago. It was around Thanksgiving of 2008,

so there’s a time frame for you. He was coming over for reasons we both

understood and he was in a controlling mood, even more so than usual.

He always likes to take control and I like that, however this time he was

aggressive and controlling! Hot…totally fucking hot! He knew the door

was unlocked and, because I prefer it, he just walked in. I greet him with

a hug, but he grabbed my arm, turned me around, slapped my ass very

hard and said, “Go get on the bed” as he almost gently shoved me in that

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K.C. Hall

direction. Almost gently, not quite there though, and he said nothing

more. I knew what was to come and I started to get wet at the thought of

him. He is right behind me and as I crawl onto the bed and lay down, he

leaned over me, hand on my throat and slightly choked me as he kissed me.

A little hard but not dangerous, though the indication was there and I liked

it. (I’m a strong woman and my job requires me to make many decisions at

a moment’s notice; some of those decisions determine the life and death of

civilians and my officers. Because of this, I want a man that is not afraid

to take charge of me. The Bull Rider will do this, and he enjoys the fact

that I want him to do just what he likes and how he likes to do it.)

“Get undressed and get back on the bed, lie on your back with your arms

to the corners of the bed,” he whispered in my ear.

He left the bedroom and went to the kitchen where he got a glass of ice,

stopping at the A/C and adjusted it. He likes it cooler than I do, and

I knew he lowered it to a very cold temperature. He then went to my

closet, selected two scarves and tied one end to the leg of the bed and the

other to my hand. He removed his shirt. He allowed me to move my

legs, but only because he likes the way I move and can put the front of my

knees to the mattress next to my sides. It’s been said more than once by

the Clitoral God/Tampon – you’ll read about him later - that when I lie

down, the bones in my body from the waist down disappear. He went to

my toy drawer and began pulling out things he wanted to use. He chose

my adjustable pair nipple clamps, the riding crop, the pussy whip (which

he put in the glass with the ice, I was intrigued!) and one of my favorite

vibrators. He put the nipple clamps on me, pushing the ring up to the top

to take them to their tightest; then he ran his fingers over my nipples and

licked them. He began walking around the bed, riding crop in hand. He

tapped it up and down my arms, barely stinging my skin. I began to speak,

but he ended that by slapping the crop against my inner thigh.

“You don’t get to have a say right now.”

He picked up the pussy whip from the ice and began running the thin

cold rubber strands over my face, neck and then to my stomach. He began

spinning the strands, flicking his wrist to make the strands whip my skin.

He jiggled it over my pussy – hence the name - and onto my legs, tickling

me as he went over my body.

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Maneater: Thick like a Snickers

At that point, I can tell that I’m getting wetter and wetter, waiting to see

what he’s going to do next. He removed his gun from his holster and

pulled off his jeans. Now naked, he gets a piece of ice and begins tracing

around my nipples with the ice; then he began moving down my body

and he would pinch my skin and stop the burning by running the ice over

the area. He did this in a few places, but soon he put the ice in his mouth

and got the vibrator. I was pleased to see that he picked the bullet vibrator

with the remote control. He put the tip of the bullet against the bottom

of my clit to jump start me a bit, just as I’d shown him in times past how

I like that and he turned it on a low pulsating setting. I enjoy the feeling

but he stopped then he pushed the ice inside me, holding it in place with

his fingers and said, “You try to push it out and I’m leaving.” The cold is

more intense than I’d been anticipating, probably because I was already

so wet; he licked my ass and then pulled out the ice. He put the vibrator

back on me, pulsing and my nipples are hard in the clamps. He started

moving the vibrator around my clit and then slid the bullet inside me while

he started working on my clit with his cool tongue. Soon, I cum in this

loud, screaming wave that is embraced by the pain of his hand roughly

squeezing my breast and pulling at the nipple clamp. His other hand is

pinching the skin on my hip. After I cum, he slides the ice back inside

me for a moment. He leaves it in place as he removes the clamps from my

nipples. The sweetness of the pain ending is exquisite! He then lets the ice

come back out and slides his dickinside me. He starts fucking me quite

hard, biting my skin and holding my throat as he kissed me. He’s getting

close to cumming and he stops, pulls out and cums all over my chest and

stomach. I’m thankful that, with him, I don’t have to use rubbers…I like

the warm stickiness on me…and the shower immediately after!

Another time we had sex, my nephew was living with me and you have

to understand that my family has the kind of openness that allowed

me to tell Dustin, “You’ve gotta go spend the night with Donnie (one

of my other nephews) because I’m having the Bull Rider over and we’re

going to be doing some hard core fucking. You’ve been warned; should

you decide to come home, I’m not going to pay for your therapy.” Of

course, he will also tell me to go hang out with Lola or Gabby so

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K.C. Hall

he can bang his fairy tale princess in true backwoods badass style, and

has on many occasions carefully raided my sex toy drawer for rubbers

when I wasn’t home! Anyway, I had gotten my monthly Brazilian

two days before and he came over one late afternoon. I left the door

unlocked for him and I’d just gotten out of the shower. I was in bed

waiting for him, my fingers exploring. If you’ve ever had a Brazilian,

you know how smooth and sensuous it feels to gently run your fingers

over yourself. So I’m in bed and he walks in the front door. My yappy

little dog, Tutu, flips shit and starts barking. This is her habit, so I’m

accustomed to it. He’s an animal person, so he doesn’t mind stopping

everything to give her attention and then move onto the next thing.

Her barking is not a sexy mood-enhancer and it does indeed detract

from the moment, but it only lasts a moment. Give her a minute of

attention and you’ll be uninterrupted from then on, presuming you

aren’t just sitting on the couch doing nothing. Anyway! Finally, he

walks into my bedroom. Wordlessly, he tucks his gun away on my

closet shelf and pulls off his clothes as I continue playing with myself.

He pulls back the covers and I sit up, push him onto the bed and begin

working on him. Now let me say here that, providing the ass is clean –

and you will know right off the bat – licking said ass is part and parcel

of a quality blow job…in my opinion, be it every so humble. (Maybe

there’s a reason a friend calls me “Freaky McNasty” most of the time?)

There are so many nerves and it’s absolutely wonderful! I love it being

done to me…try it if you haven’t! He knows very well that I do this and

he’s clean regardless, so I pull his legs up and push them back, exposing

him entirely. As I do with any clean ass, and once he is positioned

properly, I get down low and begin running my tongue from just past

his asshole toward the tailbone up to the tip of his dickand then take

it all in my mouth while I slip my pinkie into his asshole, usually only

up to the first knuckle is accepted before they start moving around

but some like it all the way in. So I continue for a bit but he stops me

and I know he’s ready for penetration when he’s standing at the side

of my bed. I got a bottle of silicon lubricant from my toy drawer and

put a few drops on him by running my hand up and down the length

a couple of times, then turned around, ass to him for his use. What I

16

Maneater: Thick like a Snickers

wasn’t expecting, and a big part of why he is such a phenomenal fuck,


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