Page 10 of Wild Oat Milk

“I… knit them little clothes, and sometimes I make them do skits for the neighbor’s kid. Other times, I just strip them naked and make them fuck each other like the animals they are. Depends on my mood.”

Gunnar slows to a full stop at an intersection he only needs to yield at, but there are no other cars around. Or houses. In fact, the solo streetlight illuminating us is the only one I can see.

We’re on the outskirts of town?

Somehow, that makes a lot of sense when I look him over. He does seem a little bit country and a little bit rock ’n’ roll.

“I think I’d like to see that,” he says before taking another pull on my fingers.

“My knitting?”

His eyebrows shrug ayes, while his tongue is busy, flicking over my palm again.

My cheeks warm, and I try not to read too much into his response. I doubt he’s serious about being interested in my hobbies. He probably thinks I’m a weirdo for playing with my creations, like everyone else who knows I do it. Well, except baby Jaxon, who laps that shit right up.

“What would you like to see, exactly, Mr. Scott?” I ask. “The sweeter of the woolen-puppet activities or the sexy ones?”

“Both,” he says, his eyes sparkling. “I also want to see these.” He traces the plunging V neck of my dress with his fingertips, and with two expertly timed flicks of his wrist, he coaxes each breast from the flimsy fabric, exposing my firm and needy nipples to the open air.

“I like these.” He leans in and elicits a gasp from me, as he suckles gently at my breast. It feels amazing, and when he moves to take my other nipple into his mouth, I practically thrust it at him. He smiles into my flesh, and then tugs hard enough with his mouth to force a needy moan from my lips, before he pulls away. My nipple throbs at his departure, and his fingertips play a subtle caress over my sensitive skin, where his beard has left it tingling. “Tell me some things you like, darlin’,” he says in a husky whisper.

“I like your beard,” I say without thinking too hard. “I want to feel it brushing at me while you suck my tits some more, and I want you to scrape it along the insides of my thighs. And down my stomach. Along my back. All over, really. It’s softer than I thought, but still rough, and my skin’s still trying to make sense of the juxtaposition.”

“That’s a big word, for a little thing.” His smile teases me, as he gently tugs one of my nipples between his fingers in a way that makes my pussy want more attention.

“Well, I may be younger and smaller than you, but I’m also a big fucking dork, and big words come with the territory. It means—”

“I know what it fucking means,” he growls, giving my other nipple a sharp tug. I expected it to hurt, like a punishment, but it’s the opposite. It’s like my nipples are a dial that turns up the volume of my need, and Gunnar’s intentionally driving me toward more pleasure. He twists and squeezes until my nipple is hot and pulsating and making my thighs twist together, while my surprised breaths become pantings of desire.

“Just because I work with rocks, doesn’t mean my head’s full of them,” he says, his voice low and gritty by my ear. “Maybe I’m a dork too. Maybe I like to fuck sexy little nerds and trade magniloquent words under the covers, after we’ve said all the simple, filthy things that needed to be said first.”

“Magniloquent?” I ask breathily, thrusting my chest at him in a demand for more of his expert touch. “And I thought you were hot before.”

Gunnar drops his gaze to my hand as I rub my clit faster.

I can’t believe I’m being so fucking brazen, but I like the way he looks at me when I’m touching myself, and he did ask me to do it.

Masturbation isn’t something I’d usually admit to doing — let alone flaunting — but it’s something sexual I’m familiar with, and when facing a man of obvious experience, I kinda want to feel like a pro at something too. Since fucking myself is basically the only thing in my life that feels good, I do it often enough that Iama pro, and from the absolute focus he’s giving me, Gunnar admires my abilities.

I want him to take me home and pay even closer attention to me.

“How much longer to your place?” I rock on my ass and push four fingers inside, to feel the stretch, as I tug at my other nipple.

“Nearly there,” he rumbles, putting his truck in gear. “Don’t you fucking come, or I’ll spank that gorgeous ass. I want you coming on my tongue the first time.”

“First time?” My pussy twitches in a threatening release. “You’re going to make me come more than once?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, as he follows a winding country road uphill. “Oh, baby girl, it’s going to be a good and long night.”

4

GUNNAR

I’m so fucking excited and hard when I pull on the handbrake, I almost wrench the thing right off.

Shelby’s been fucking herself, with her tits out, all the way up my mountain, and her scent is doing my fucking head in. She’s everywhere, permeating my nostrils and infiltrating my brain to the point of madness.

I’ve had little taste tests, but I’m dying to feast on her, and she practically yelps when I tear off her seatbelt and skin her dress from her body.

---