Banging The BBC Stud: Book 2 of "Burning For The BBC Stud"
Pretty Melanie blackmailed sexy black stud Pierce into popping her cherry under the town bandstand. Now she wants more—she aches to take his huge black weapon all the way inside her! Will lots of practicing with sex toys help, or will he still be too big to fill her completely?
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He’d called his big weapon ‘The Baseball Bat,’ she recalled with a quick little snicker. But he hadn’t been kidding. She hadn’t actually seen it…there had been no light at all under the bandstand…but she sure had felt it when she’d slid her eager hands up and down its slippery-wet length!
And okay, her hands were small…she was small all over, especially compared to his 6’4” height and brawny shoulders. But anything she couldn’t curl her hands completely around definitely deserved to be called a baseball bat!
She’d been going absolutely crazy since then. But she’d promised to be really, really careful so no one would guess what was going on between them. So no matter how badly she’d been tempted, she hadn’t gone by his place, or even by the church, after school or on the weekends. And when she’d seen him on the street, she hadn’t flirted and batted her long eyelashes the way she might have done with a cute boy.
He hadn’t spoken to her, either, when they’d passed each other. But he’d smiled just a little, and nodded his head in greeting…and the look in his eyes had been so warm and gentle that she’d just about melted on the spot. She was so, so glad he wasn’t mad at her for blackmailing him into popping her cherry! He still liked her, and he still wanted to keep his own promise.
Tonight her folks were going to visit some friends a few towns away, and they’d be gone all night. Melly could have gone along with them, of course. But Uncle Paul and Aunt Bernie were so old that their kids had already grown up and moved away, so there was no one for her to hang with. That was why she’d opted to stay home this time…well, that was her official story. And she was sticking to it.
Pierce hadn’t even glanced down at her when her father had patted her shoulder and boasted how he wasn’t worried about leaving his baby girl at home because they lived in such a safe neighborhood. But she’d felt the heat pump off him when he’d politely excused himself, and slipped by her to go chat with another family. And she’d known that tonight would be The Night. After it got dark, he would come to her, and they’d pick up where they’d left off two weeks ago.
She was ready.