1. Cherry the Cheerleader (chapter 2)


    Date: 12/4/2014, Categories: Fiction, Blowjob, Cum Swallowing, First Time, Hardcore, Male/Teen Female, Virginity, Young, Author: Muke Hunt Hz, Rating: 95.9, Source: sexstories.com

    Chapter 2 I was feeling pretty good about my life as I went home; reliving the day in my head. I couldn’t get Cherry out of my mind and it wasn’t even all about the incredible blow job she’d just given me. There was a real connection with her and I just enjoyed being with her. I wasn’t sure if it was love or not; it was still too early to know that for sure, but I knew I really liked her a lot. I was pulling up in front of my apartment when I realized I couldn’t remember a single detail about the drive home. Did I run any stoplights or signs? Did I speed or drive ten miles an hour under the limit? I couldn’t tell you and I honestly didn’t care very much at that point. I was on a natural high that I was sure I would never come down from. But I was, yet again, wrong. The next day, I was at work and still on my ‘high’ from my date. It was a normal day in every other respect. But then we got a call out on a traffic accident. We bolted to the rig, prepared as always, and barreled out with lights and sirens blasting. As we approached the scene, Chief turned around to us and said, “This is going to be a bad one, guys. One DOS (Death On Scene) for sure. Surgeon: you’re up.” We all just said in unison, ‘shit’. Brian’s nickname was Surgeon; a name he earned because of his skills with the Jaws of Life—NO ONE was better than Brian. As the scene came into my view, I suddenly knew what Chief was talking about. The intersection was a bad one: an interstate that ended and turned into local ...
    streets at a light. Travelers unfamiliar with the area and not paying attention could easily miss the signs and signals and blow through it. And that was exactly what happened. But this time it was a big rig that blew through the intersection and it was a small car that got creamed. I couldn’t even tell what kind of car it had been: it looked like a battalion of Abrams tanks drove over it and then used it for target practice. The front half of the car was nothing more than the bottom of the chassis—engine, transmission, wheels, doors, fenders, roof, and seats were gone. They weren’t smashed: they were GONE—scattered in a debris field that led to where the truck finally came to rest about a hundred yards down the road. As our rig was coming to a stop, we were all saying things like, ‘Holy shit’, ‘Goddamn’, ‘Fuck me’, and even Chief (who had seen everything and nothing fazed him) said, “Son of a fucking Bitch!” Whoever was in the front seat was dead before the truck finished passing over the car. But that wasn’t what was going to make this one bad. There were no less than a dozen motorists clawing feverishly at the remaining wreckage and I knew immediately what that meant. There was a kid in the back seat. We jumped out and went to work. Chief sent the motorist packing, but not before I saw how their hands were cut up from trying to pry the shredded metal away. Every cop in town seemed to be on scene and they transitioned from rescue to securing the scene and rerouting traffic. ...
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