Look Into My Eyes
Thursday, February 21, 2014
Leslie Parker raised a fist to knock on the front door of her brother’s house.
Do you actually think he’ll just hand over 300 dollars?
Leslie shot a bird at her conscience by lightly knocking on the door.
At the repair shop, the engineer and Leslie both stared at the car damage. The driver’s door of the black BMW was banged up bad.
Charlie was going to kill her.
“So, how much would it cost to repair it? How long would it take?” Leslie’s heart sped up at the thought of the cost being a million or the number of days being 365.
“It’ll cost. . 300. Can be as good as new by Saturday, assumin’ you pay us today. “
The door opened.
John was dressed in a black polo and dark grey Bermuda shorts.
“Hi,” she greeted. John was never home. He hung out with his friends all the time, to get away from the house. Leslie was the same way. . Now, he was twenty and had his own home, making ends meet by working in construction.
“Hey. . ”
He swung his door open for her to step inside. Once in, she twirled around to face him and took a deep breath.
Johnathan Parker eyed Leslie from head to toe.
She was so fucking gorgeous. He had no idea who she got her genes from because she looked like a cat. Cat eyes; green-blue, her upper lip was noticeably smaller than her lower, like Jordana Brewster, except Les’s lips were fuller, she had a perky nose and a softly pointed chin, even her narrow figure, and light-colored freckles decorated her cheeks, nose, and forehead.
But that wasn’t the half of it.
Ever since he was old enough to get an erection, John dreamt of Leslie. When she was younger, he would always try and get her to sit in his lap or give him a hug, or let him pick her up and give her piggyback rides. All that, just so he could run his hands over her skin. Silky soft. Tan. .
escaping with as much physical contact as he could before she started to get weirded-out by him. John knew he was sick. .
Now, there was a new erotic jut to her. John’s gaze went to her lips. He wanted that pretty, pink mouth wrapped around his cock–Fuck, he thought as bleed drained out of his head. “Okay. . ” he said; she’d been waiting for a “yes” or a “no.
There wasn’t really a way to say “I’ll pay you, if you suck my cock” to your little sister without her freaking out. .
Deftly sucking and bobbing her head up and down John’s cock, it felt like a nightmare to Leslie because it couldn’t be happening, she thought.
Leslie heard the raw emotion in the voice before she actually made out the words themselves, but she was too caught up in what she was doing to give them much thought.
She just kept her mind on what she was doing, trying not to focus on the tile floor biting into her knees or the slight ache in her shoulders from the awkward position she was in. It wasn’t until the voice came again that the meaning behind the words finally sank in. “Look into my eyes, Leslie. ” She looked up and saw the fire raging behind the green eyes staring back at her, and she felt her insides knot.
She knew it was a mixture of shame and humiliation, something she knew she deserved for being in this situation. . but part of it was something else, too; she felt. . a stirring. . but she wasn’t ready to face that. She still couldn’t believe she was even in the whole fucked-up mess.
John had imagined this moment hundreds of times, but none of his fantasies compared to the pleasure of reality.
The reality of bliss, of his little sister’s u******e mouth engulfing his cock.
He’d decided to go easy on her for this first one–John proposed 100 dollars for each bj. .
“Just this once?” she whispered so lightly that it took John two seconds to comprehend what she had just said, and when he did, the realization hit: once and never again wasn’t 100 percent satisfactory. “Three. A hundred for each–“
“What? You don’t think your mouth’s worth one a pop?” he asked with a smirk.
but he duped his word by frequently grabbing her head and cramming his seven-and-a-half inches deep down and up her throat, making her gag on it.
Reduced to a series of moans, climax overtook John. Leslie started to choke on the copious amounts of cum that were gushing down her throat and roughly pulled back, white defilers dribbling from her lips. He aimed the rest of his jizz onto her face, leaving long, warm streaks over it and her summer-blond hair.
300 dollars. 300 dollars. Repeating that in her mind eased all of Leslie’s negative feelings, at least a little.
She splashed water on her face and glanced up at herself in the mirror. Water and leftover cum clung to her face, swollen lips, disheveled hair–Leslie took a washcloth from the cabinet and scrubbed her face. Then, briskly cleaned her hair. She wanted to brush her teeth. Instead, she twisted open a bottle of mouth wash and swished some around in her mouth.
After spitting it out and turning off the sink, she stormed out of John’s house.
Leslie’s mother, Raven Parker, ran away from her father, Charlie Parker, last year, on the twentieth of December. He was an abusive husband and father, but her mother got the worst of his wrath; her skin was covered always with red and blue. Almost festive, the white, red, and blue. Fifteen years of those colors was her breaking point.
Since she left, Charlie’s been taking his anger out on Leslie. Maybe because she reminded him of her. . She didn’t look like her mother but still. .
He’s out on a business trip, now. He’ll be gone for a week. If he came home–and found out about his car–he’d. . torture her!
That’s why she was so desperate and John knew that.
To be continued.
I’m busy working on MULTIPLE projects, so if anyone wants to write part two, just post it in the comment box and I’ll write my part, proofread it, and credit you. 🙂
Copyright © 2013 by Robin D. Young and John Wilkes.