Page 8 of Their Little Christmas Bounty
He grins.“It isn’t.Ariel had this delivered from a local pastry shop.”
I roll over and put my pillow over my head.Infuriating woman.She deserves a spanking.Followed by a good, long fucking.Little girl needs it.
Almost as much as I need to give it to her.
The pastries are good, at least.
“If I don’t move around, I’ll die.I’m going for a walk.”Lyle shoves a cap over his head.“We can leave after that.”
I hold in my sigh.I’ve been pushing us both pretty hard.Waiting another hour before we leave won’t hurt.Especially when we don’t have a lead yet, anyway.I searched the place yesterday.Nada.I spent more time than necessary looking at Ariel’s profile on Kynkworld—nothing there, either.Other than her gorgeous body and that sexy, mischievous glint in her green eyes.They’re the color of sea glass.
I’m romanticizing the little brat.We better catch her soon, put this behind us, and head straight to Low Vice when it’s over.
I reach for a second danish while I open up Kynkworld.
There’s a new video.I take a bite and click.
Ariel stands in a nondescript room, probably a hotel, but it’s impossible to know.There aren’t any cards or pads of hotel stationery boasting the name of the place.
Not that I spend a lot of time looking at the background.How can I, when Ariel’s wearing a too-small baseball shirt, tiny shorts, and a ball cap?San Esteban Surf Rats—teal with pink lettering.To complete the look, she’s holding a fucking baseball bat.
I nearly choke on my danish.I’m as hard as that bat right now.
She runs a hand along the length, a loving expression on her face.She presses a kiss to the top, her plump lips glistening.Looking directly at the camera, she says, “Doesn’t anyone need it super hard?”
I’m super hard.If she needs it, I’ll fucking give it to her.Right now.Just tell me where to find you, baby.
She sits on the edge of the bed, spreads her legs.I see a flash of tiny pink panties under those too-short shorts.She brings the bat between her legs, the handle on the floor, the wide part level with her pussy.
She starts writhing, grinding against it.
Holy fuck.Holyfuck.I set down my pastry, shove down my boxers, and grab my cock.
From her expression, I get the sense this is more than just a show to her.She’s into it.
“Really think about it,” she says to the camera.“Doesn’t anyone need it super hard?Come and get me…because I need it.”
I stroke myself even while my brain is working.It’s a weird thing to say.Doesn’t anyone need it super hard.I’d expect her to say, “I need it hard,” or “I need it bad, I like it hard.”Doesn’t anyone?
She gasps and starts humping faster against the bat.Her shorts have a wet spot at the crotch—she soaked through her pantiesandshorts.Fuck, I bet she tastes so good.I want to lick her until she screams.
I adjust so I can grab my balls, too.My pastry falls to the floor.Let it stay there, I don’t care—I have more important things to handle.
The pastry.It’s a danish.Combined with that weird phrase…
Doesn’t
Anyone
Need
It
Super
Hard
If you read it down, the first letters spellDanish.
