Big Juicy Lips Read Online Free PDF Page B

minor.”
    “You shoulda thought about that before you picked my young ass up.” He pulled hard on the blunt. “How old is you?”
    “I’m old enough to push this whip.” Misty held up her arm in a way that displayed her newly purchased tennis bracelet. “I got five gees draped around my wrist,” she boasted. “What else do you wanna know about me?”
    “Um…” Monroe paused, looked up, stroking the fine hairs on his chin. “Um…will you marry me?” Both Monroe and Misty burst into laughter. The high was starting to kick in.
    “Yeah, we can work something out…” Misty nodded. “When you start ballin’ hard enough to put a giant rock on my finger, then we can talk marriage.”
    Monroe passed the blunt to Misty. “You must think you talkin’ to a sucka. I’m the man, shawty,” he bragged. “My game is professional. My crew is up in these streets, slinging packs, twenty-four seven. I’m runnin’ blocks.”
    “You got a crew?” Misty asked. Her lungs filled with smoke, her voice sounded croaky. She slowly released a cloud of smoke. “Who? Ashy Cashy and Muscle Boy?” Misty laughed sarcastically. “Aw, shit. I’m impressed,” she teased. “Nigga, you broke and you know it,” she said, her tone suddenly serious. “You ready to hit it?”
    “What?”
    She tugged up her skirt, revealing a yellow lacey thong. “Backseat or outside—up against that big-ass tree,” she said, pointing.
    “Outside! You trying to get us both arrested for indecent exposure?”
    “I thought you said you was all gangsta and shit.”
    “In training,” he admitted with laughter. “I might need some schoolin.’ For real, though…how old are you? ’Bout twenty-three…twenty-four?”
    “Twenty-three.”
    Monroe nodded. “I thought you were about my age, but I should have known by the way you carry yourself, that you were an older woman.”
    Misty yanked her skirt back down. “You make it sound like I’m pushing thirty or something. You must be underage. Show me some damn ID, or you can walk your ass back to the court.”
    Smiling embarrassingly, Monroe dug in his pocket and pulled out a Pennsylvania State ID. Misty switched on the interior lights. “Oh, aiight, nineteen—you’re legal.” Satisfied, she slid into the backseat, fumbled around in one of the rear seat compartments. “Can you fit a Magnum or do you need something smaller?” she asked, after locating a condom.
    “A Magnum? Oh, for sure. I can work with that.”
    “Prove it.”
    “I can’t right now. You playin’ twenty questions; made my jawn go down.”
    Misty hitched up her skirt again and pulled her thong to the side. “Kiss my coochie. I guarantee you’ll get a nice hard-on.” Monroe placed a quick peck on Misty’s vagina.
    “Nigga, use some tongue. Make it wet, so you can get up in it.”
    Monroe timidly flicked his tongue against Misty’s pussy.
    Misty sucked her teeth. “Aiight, you starting to get on my nerves.” She pushed his head away.
    “Yo, I’m not into that. I ain’t come out here to grub on no pussy, y’ah mean?”
    “After you get me in the mood, I’ll do you,” Misty cooed.
    “Oh, word?”
    She nodded. “I know you’re inexperienced…”
    “That ain’t it. I’m not no sucka; I don’t give up head that quick.”
    “Is that right,” Misty said, laughter in her voice. She took her thong off and let it drop on the floor mat. “Sit up and rest your head back, lemme teach you a lil’ something.”
    Monroe got in position, then Misty maneuvered into a half-standing position with her groin pressed against his face.
    At first, Monroe proved his lack of experience in cunnilingus by giving a clumsy and overly dramatic performance. The way he groaned and theatrically rolled his face around the unfamiliar territory, it seemed like an audition for a porn flick. Worse, he slobbered so profusely that a messy puddle accumulated in her pubic hairs and began to trail down her thigh.
    Annoyed, Misty was about to