Page 46 of Single Girl Rules #BananaParty

Wait a second!

Officer King. Banana King.

Well hot damn! I knew those cops looked like strippers!

I stopped sucking him off for a second to lick those yummy abs. But when I got up to his massive pecs, I noticed something else.

A shoulder tattoo.

God, could this guy get any hotter?

The tattoo looked so familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. Was it a copy of the Rock’s tattoo? More importantly…who cared?

I went back to sucking him. But not too much. My plan was to prove I could deepthroat him and then let him fuck the shit out of me.

I’d already made the Banana Bros and Slavanka’s guy cum too fast. I didn’t want to repeat my mistake a third time. Especially with the Banana King. To not feel his massive cock inside of me would be a heinous crime.

He pushed against the back of my throat, so I shifted slightly and took him farther. But I still wasn’t all the way down.

Gah! How embarrassing.

All the other strippers had run away, so all eyes were on me. This was my time to shine. And I was blowing it. Both literally and figuratively.

I got up and made a show of straddling my chair, facing away from him. Then I leaned back so I was looking at him upside down.

The Banana King was more than happy to put his package on my face.

I sucked his balls for a second while I stroked him.

He flexed and all the girls in the crowd cheered.

Show off.

And then he grabbed his cock and shoved it down my throat. Most girls would have gagged. Or died. Especially the stupid birthday girl. But me? I’d been practicing for this my entire life. I took him all the way into my throat without any problems. Easy peasy. Thank you, banana deepthroating practice.

He grabbed my head with his massive hands and fucked my throat. The whole time I was just picturing how amazing it would feel when he did this same thing to my pussy.

It was going to be heaven.

In one swift motion, he reached down, grabbed my waist, and flipped me onto his shoulder tattoo.

Wait a second! I knew where I had seen that design before. It wasn’t from the Rock. It was from that picture that Ghost had given me. The one of Locatelli’s enforcer.

Oh damn. Silly me, thinking that the Banana King couldn’t get any hotter. On the hotness scale, he’d just gone from an 11 to like a…50.

And if he treated me like Ghost promised a kidnapper would… I almost got my second orgasm just th

inking about what he might do to me.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, trying my best to sound worried instead of excited.

“I thought we could have a little fun backstage. Away from prying eyes.” He climbed the stairs up to the main stage. In about ten seconds, I’d be backstage and officially kidnapped.

But it wasn’t quite time for that yet. Because as excited as I was about being kidnapped by this hunk, there was a chance that sex slavery wouldn’t be as fun as I imagined.

Like…what if he refused to fuck me?

I know, I know. It was a crazy thought. But I still wanted to be prepared.

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