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I am one of those girls who decided long ago that it would be easier to translate my name from Vietnamese to English, rather than spend the rest of my life explaining the spelling and pronunciation of Summer in Vietnamese. My parents aren’t American hippies. They’re Vietnamese. So, in English, I’m just Summer.

As a kid, I was skinny, tiny, awkward, and never felt like the pretty girl in school. I had ridiculously long, black hair and pale-cream skin that warmed to gold in the sun. In a white, sub-urban neighborhood, I wasn’t one of the blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauties that most of the boys liked to chase. My sleepy-dark eyes looked like stretched almonds. I liked to talk, so I made friends easily, but I mostly relied on my good genes in school to get good grades.

It wasn’t until high school that I started to think that I might be pretty. That was the year that my mother took me to the library to check out some books for a research project, and forgot to pick me up. I was stuck waiting for hours with my stack of books, sitting on the curb of the parking lot, my head lolling in my hands as my long, inky hair brushed back and forth across my arms and my legs. It was hot that afternoon. I was eighteen.

I yanked up cotton skirt to admire the way my golden legs were turning a pinkish-bronze in the strong sunlight. At only five feet tall, my legs didn’t stretch on for miles the way that the girls in Seventeen magazine did, but my petite body curled comfortably into my arms when I wanted to feel my own skin. My breasts weren’t huge, but they were nicely formed, and I secretly liked to run my hands over them, the firm, satin flesh filling my palms nicely. I liked how they felt pressed against my legs just then, soft and springy, the nipples budding against my thin yellow bra, through the gauzy white tube top. I looked down into the gaping opening, and tugged on the drawstring just a little.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over me, and a cool breeze ruffled over my skin, causing goosebumps on my arms.

“You have pretty cleavage,” a deep voice said, and I looked up, startled.

I pushed my bangs out of my eyes, and shielded a hand from the sun. The stranger was uncomfortably tall, and I strained my neck. He had to have been at least six feet-four, with thick, muscular legs adorned by green-black tattoos from his ankle to his thighs. He grinned down at me, green eyes sparkling, and knelt down before I could respond.

“Do you need a ride?” he asked.

I realized that he was an exceptionally handsome man, but his telltale gray hairs over his ears and sprinkled through his thick, wavy brown hair revealed that he must have been in his late thirties or older.

“No thank you,” I answered, feeling my heart skip a beat. “My ride should be here any minute now.”

He shrugged, but continued to smile, staring at me in a way that caused my skin to warm even more, and I could feel a flush creep up my neck and bloom over my cheeks. He brushed his hand lightly on my arm as he sat up.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he told me daringly. I knew, even then, that his gesture was highly inappropriate, but it thrilled me anyway, and I felt the warmth seep down to my core, making the flesh between my legs tingle. I was completely innocent, and unsure of what to say in response. So I just looked away, mumbling a “Thank you.”

He got up after staring at me a minute more, and started to walk into the library. I felt relief and disappointment.

My cell phone rang. It was my mother.

“Honey, I have a flat tire. I’m stuck on the interstate, waiting for Triple A. I called Mrs. Johnson and she’s on her way to pick you up. You have her number?”

“Yeah,” I said, although I wasn’t sure if I had her number. I was absent-minded. I could see the stranger’s powerful form moving through the library as I twisted myself around to watch through the blinds. It had never occurred to me before that day how very small our local library was. I started running my fingers through the silky strands of my hair, noticing the strange tingle between my legs growing ever more prominent, to the point of discomfort. I shifted my legs, pressing my thighs closer together.

“Here’s her number, just in case,” my mother continued, and started reading the numbers to me. I quickly wrote the number down on one of the book pages. My mom kept prattling on about her day and bad luck. She finally ended the conversation.

“Bye, sweetie. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Mom.”

I sighed, picking up my phone again and starting to dial Mrs. Johnson’s number. bahis firmaları She didn’t pick up.

Twenty minutes later, the stranger started walking out again. I smoothed my hand over my hair and straightened my skirt a little.

“Well, hey there, gorgeous,” he said smoothly.

“Hey,” I answered, my voice sounding a little high pitched.

“Looks like your ride didn’t make it. You sure you don’t want me to give you a lift? The library is closing in ten minutes.”

I checked the time on my phone. He was right.

He knelt down again and this time, he stuck out his hand. It was large, browned, and when I hesitantly reached out my hand to him, he swallowed up my fingers easily in his grip.

“My name is Jake,” he said.

“Summer,” I answered, and smiled. Jake smiled back. “Well, OK. I guess I really don’t want to be stuck here. It’s getting late,” I said. “Thank you,” I added quickly, and got up. Jake leaned down and scooped up my pile of books.

“Always willing to help a woman in need,” he drawled, and his eyes twinkled down at me. I tried to breathe, noticing how my pulse was racing and the heat was making it worse.

I followed Jake out to his car, which turned out to be a huge, blue F-150 with four doors. He opened up the back seat and stacked my books inside, then opened up the door on my side. How considerate, I thought, silently comparing him to the high school boys at my school who never even thought to open up a door for anyone before themselves. I climbed in and clicked my seat belt.

I decided to give my Mom a call, telling her that I got a ride home. Her phone took me straight to voice mail, indicating that it was either off or in an area with poor reception.

“Where to?” Jake asked, as he pulled out of the parking lot. He glanced at me, and I noticed that his eyes were raking over me slowly, approvingly, lingering on my breasts and legs as I crossed them and uncrossed them.

“Um, take I-78 going west,” I said. He nodded. As he started driving, I clutched my hands in my lap.

“Do you mind if I ask what ethnicity you are?” he asked, and I shook my head.

“I’m Vietnamese.”

“How beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Usually pretty chatty, I suddenly found it difficult to make small talk.

“So do you go to school around here?” Jake continued, fiddling with his CD player. The song “Hey There, Delilah” came on, and he turned the volume up.

“Yes, just up the road.” Something in the back of my mind screamed at me to give him the name of my high school, but I failed to listen.

“Alpine College?”

“Yeah.”

He grinned at me. “I went there once, but it was almost twenty years ago,” he admitted. I didn’t say anything in response, so he started humming and singing softly with the music. I glanced sideways at him shyly, noticing the bulge of his muscles on his arms as he drove. More tattoos. He didn’t have sleeves covering his limbs, but there were definite, intriguing symbols on them, bold and dark. God, he is powerful, I thought. I was currently crushing on Jason, a lanky, pale-skinned boy in my Calculus class. He was funny and nice when he spoke to me, but was always asking questions about Estelle, my gorgeous, red-haired bestfriend. Jason never complimented me.

“So is Summer your given name? Or did you alter it to make it easier for us non-Vietnamese people to say your name?”

I was so surprised by his keen observation and excellent guess that I laughed. I relaxed a little. “It’s the English translation of my real name,” I told him.

“So what is your Vietnamese name, then?”

The tingle in my blood and between my legs increased, humming with the music. I felt strangely giddy and confident. “Not telling,” I teased.

He grinned, instantly picking up on the change in mood. “What would I have to do for you to get you to tell me?”

“I’ll have to think about it.”

“I’m already giving you a ride home.”

“How do I know I’m going to end up home?” I asked, and instantly regretted it. I vocalized a tiny grain of fear, making it a possibility, and the air grew heavier. Danger. Maybe.

Jake glanced up at the freeway signs. “Which exit?” he asked.

Dammit .I’d lost track. “Um, Wildwood,” I said, and leaned out of the window.

“I think we passed it,” he said to me, “But I’m not sure which exit that is. I’ll turn around. Keep an eye out for it.”

I nodded, shifting my weight to allow my eyes easier access. As I did so, I lifted my hands and the wind picked up loose paper in my books, sending them across his lap.

“Shoot!” kaçak iddaa I cried. “Sorry!” I scrambled out of my seat and attempted to lean over him, reaching for the papers. No luck. I undid my seatbelt as he looked over at me, and then got up on all fours, crawling over his lap.

“Here, let me pull over,” Jake offered, and took the next exit. As he slowed down off the freeway, the sun had started to go down. It was still unbelievably hot out, but twilight was undeniably here. It was starting to make my little adventure seem a lot creepier. I looked around as Jake parked the car. There weren’t a lot of buildings, just a gas station about three blocks off the freeway entrance.

I quickly snatched up my papers, my heart thudding in my chest. I was leaning over him, and glanced up into his face. It was only inches away, and I could feel how warm his breath was.

He bent down, a long arm reaching down to his feet, catching the last sheet of paper. “Here,” he said, and I took it.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Are we lost?” he asked.

“I think so.” My cell phone beeped for the third time, indicating that the battery had given out, and it turned itself off. Damn.

“Summer,” Jake said, leaning closer to me. “You smell good. What perfume are you wearing?”

I nervously backed away. “Umm, I don’t know. Something from Victoria’s Secret?”

He undid his seat belt. He leaned in again, crawling over the seat to follow me. “Summer,” he whispered, “You are so beautiful.”

The excitement under my skin leaked down to my core once again, as if my pussy were a well, and my panties became so wet that I instinctively reached my hand down… and Jake’s eyes followed them. I noticed, then, that his windows were tinted. Darkly tinted. He turned the engine off.

“Your mouth,” he whispered as his lips hovered over mine, “is like a rosebud, and your breath smells like mint.” Before I could respond, he pressed his lips down on me, mouth open and hungry, and his tongue slipped into my mouth. I gasped, inadvertently opening my mouth up for deeper assault, and suddenly, his hands slid up my bare arms, down my sides, under my shirt, and my skin felt like it was on fire.

“Jake,” I gasped.

“Yes?” He asked, his tongue leaving my mouth to lick a pathway down my throat. He found the drawstring on my tube top, and pulled it down, his tongue swirling over the swell of my breasts.

“I…”

And then I couldn’t speak, because his mouth had found a dark pink nipple, stiff peak, and his callused hand rubbed up and down over its pebble-hardness, causing it to swell even more. I arched into his hands, my body bending upwards, not knowing what to reach for.

He reached under my skirt and tugged my panties down.

“Oh God!” I moaned, as his mouth abandoned my breasts, diving, instead, under my skirt.

“Shit, you are so wet, Summer,” he groaned, licking up my thighs. My hands were on his head. He pushed himself in further, and then his mouth closed over my pussy, and I writhed.

“God, you are so beautiful. You have a perfect, pink pussy,” he said, and his tongue snaked over my nether lips, licking the wetness, swirling in and out, over and over.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he continued, slurping my wetness into his mouth, swallowing, “but you are so sweet, so sexy, and you have the hottest little pussy. I’m probably old enough to be your father. God, you make me hard. I want to fuck you so bad, Summer.”

My legs were on his powerful shoulders, my bare feet pushing him, urging him on. I couldn’t think anymore, could only feel. His tongue was like magic, intensifying every nerve in my body as our skin grew hotter. My breath came in shorter gasps, my body arching, opening, inviting him in. I didn’t know what I wanted…

“Jake,” I gasped.

He lifted his head. His lips glistened with my juices, and he licked his lips slowly, a grin spreading over his face. “You taste sweeter than any pussy I’ve ever had,” he said, and his voice rumbled over my body. “Summer, please don’t tell me to stop.”

“I don’t know…”

“I want to shove my cock into your pussy,” he continued, dipping a finger in. He pushed gently, and my pussy seemed to swallow up his finger. The sensation was incredible; he moved his finger around inside of me as he lowered his mouth down and began to lick me once more. I thought I would die.

“Tell me you don’t want my mouth on your clit like this,” he whispered, his tongue flicking rapidly over the wet flesh between my legs. “Tell me you don’t want my tongue all over your kaçak bahis tight, juicy little pussy. Tell me this doesn’t feel good.”

“It feels… so… God. So good.” I whispered.

“Want to know how you taste?” he asked, and in my innocence, I didn’t answer, didn’t know what to expect.

He climbed back up, pressing his weight down on top of me. He leaned in to kiss me, full on the lips, and his tongue invaded my mouth once again. He tasted sweet, slightly flowery, slightly musky, oddly familiar, but different. The fact that his mouth had just been all over my pussy and his tongue was now forcing its way into my mouth was insanely erotic. My tongue darted out to meet his, and he accepted the invitation by slamming his body more firmly into mine, and deepened the kiss.

Jake reached down to undo his belt. My mind was so foggy, I could hardly comprehend what that meant. He just kept on kissing me, whispering in my ear, one hand still between my legs as his fingers invaded my pussy and the other hand pushed his jeans down.

“You fucking little tease,” he grunted roughly, and I sensed the change in mood. No longer gentle, his words grew harsher. “You like that? You liked my tongue on your pussy, didn’t you? You were so hot for me to eat your little pussy. You loved it. You loved every second of it.”

His boxers came down next as I gasped, my body screaming for release at the things his hand was doing to my pussy.

He climbed up over my body, so that his cock, huge and throbbing, loomed right in front of my lips.

“Oh no, you don’t, you little cocktease,” Jake said. “Not until you suck me. I’m not letting you off that easy. Be a good girl and open your mouth. Good. Just like that. Wider. I know you can. You’re going to take in as much as me as your beautiful, hot little mouth can. Open. That’s right. Get your tongue out and lick me first. Do it.”

I was so lost, I would have done anything he asked me to at that point. I darted my tongue out and licked up the shaft, causing him to groan.

“That’s right, baby. Lick up and down the shaft. Hold me with your hands. One hand on my balls. Put your mouth on the head of my cock. Suck. No teeth. Oh God, you’re good. You sexy little girl. You sure you’ve never done this before? God, you have a hot little mouth. Open wider. I love fucking your mouth.”

He started shoving his cock back and forth between my lips as I licked and sucked and gently squeezed. My pussy was so wet that tears came to my eyes. I wasn’t in pain. I was aching for some release I couldn’t name, didn’t know what to do about. But hearing Jake’s filthy words in my ears and sucking his cock seemed to only make me feel dirtier, sexier, and I opened up my legs, letting one hand slip from his balls to my pussy. I started rubbing my clit with my two fingers.

“You’re that hot, huh, baby? You like being fucked in the mouth? You like that? Don’t worry, I’m gonna make you cum harder than you ever have in your life. You’re gonna cum with my cock shoved deep inside your tight pussy, baby. Ever come with a cock in your pussy?”

I shook my head no, and he groaned. “God, you’re so sexy. You’re gonna love it. You’re gonna fucking love it. I wanna feel your pussy squeezing the hell out of my cock.”

I rubbed my pussy more frantically at his words, and he suddenly reached down, lifted me higher up on the seat, and grabbed my legs. He pushed my legs apart, and pushed the head of his cock just outside of my pussy lips.

“Ever done this before?” Jake asked.

I shook my head again, still moaning.

“God, you’re going to be so tight,” he groaned, and slowly began pushing his cock through. I felt the hardness of his cock stretching my pussy to accommodate his size, loving the feel of it, pressure building once again under my skin and on my pussy. As he broke all the way through, I screamed. The agony was only temporary, and I looked down to see that he had shoved his cock all the way through, his balls slammed right up against me, his head breathing heavily on my neck as a hang was still rubbing over my stiffened nipple.

“Summer, you are so tight. You have the tightest, hottest pussy. Oh God, baby. God, you feel so fucking good.”

As he started to move, my moans grew louder. I grasped his shoulders, allowing his hands to lift my ass up and seat me more firmly around him, closing my legs around his back.

“Oh God. Uh, uh, uh, uh.” Jake grunted with every thrust, and I bit my bottom lip painfully as I felt him move deeply within me. I couldn’t believe how good it felt, with his body thrust powerfully into me, my smaller body wrapped and clinging around him, taking every inch of him. I dared to run my hands under his shirt, feeling his sleek, hard muscles as he continued to grind into my pussy…

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