I sit on my bed in my tiny cheer uniform and dial the neighbor’s number. My heart races as his voice answers, all deep and husky like always. “Hey, Mr. Thompson? It’s Briona from next door. I’m selling candy for my cheer team to get to nationals in Daytona. You want some?” I ask as a formality. I know how much he loves seeing me look like a “cheerleader slut.”
He chuckles. “Candy, huh? How much you need, babygirl?”
“Five hundred bucks,” I say, biting my lip. “But maybe we could work something out?”
“Why don’t you come over. I know a quicker way you can earn that $500 than selling candy.”
I hang up and walk next door, my cheer skirt bouncing with every step. He opens the door in his robe, eyes crawling over my body. I step inside and he locks it behind me.
“Lift that skirt,” he orders.
I pull it up, showing him my bare, smooth pussy. His eyes darken. “No panties? You really are a little cheerleader slut.” He drops to his knees right there in the hallway. “Five hundred if you let me eat this young bald cunt.”
My stomach flips but I nod. “Deal.”
He pushes me against the wall and pulls my thigh over his shoulder before burying his face between my thighs. His tongue drags up my slit, hot and wet, licking every fold. I moan as he sucks my clit, tongue flicking fast. He groans into my pussy like he’s starving, licking and slurping loud and messy. My legs shake. I grab his hair and grind against his mouth.
“Fuck, Mr. Thompson,” I gasp. “Your tongue feels so good.”
He doesn’t stop. He spreads my lips wider and fucks me with his tongue, then sucks my clit again until my hips jerk. My juices drip down his chin. I feel it building fast, that tight pressure in my core.
“Oh fuck! I think I’m gonna squirt,” I whimper.
He sucks harder. I cry out as my vagina pulses and warm coochie juice sprays over his face. He keeps licking me through it, drinking every drop while I shake and moan. When I finally stop, he stands up, robe open, cock hard and thick. He strokes it fast, staring at my dripping cunt and soaked uniform. “Such a good little cheerleader slut,” he grunts.
Thick ropes of cum shoot across my stomach and skirt. He keeps jerking until he’s empty, painting my caramel colored skin white. He tucks his cock away and hands me five hundred-dollar bills. “If you need money for nails, hair, prom, whatever- come see me. I can always find creative ways for a hot little cheerleader slut like you to earn it.”
Mizz Briona
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