fire.”
Marina slid her finger away, looking up at me patiently. A strand of hair, freed from the loose ponytail, trailed over her right eyebrow. “What's the next step?” she asked in a hush.
“Well, it's actually the real first step.” Pointing, my fingertip brushed over her thumb. “Pull the bolt back, make sure you have bullets in there.”
“You loaded it, I know there are bullets.”
Arching an eyebrow, I sighed. “Unless you yourself load in the clip, always check.”
The flicker of stubbornness she'd shown me was pushed down deep. Marina yanked the metal, exposing the chamber. Once she saw the bullets, she gave me a pointed look and slammed the bolt back into the Ruger. “Okay. Done.”
My hands came down on her shoulders. She became ridged, startling by my grip. I ignored her reaction and turned her towards the target.
“Face it like this.” Looking down, I saw how unstable her feet were. “And these,” I whispered, kicking her legs apart until she was balanced. “Make sure you're not going to topple over when you fire.”
I heard the sound of her swallowing. That, I couldn't ignore.
“Got it,” she said quietly.
Just like that, I was aware of her presence. Marina was under my grasp, her spine curving inches from my chest, her perky ass so close to my hips I only needed to rock forward to meet her.
Her exposed neck beamed at me, oddly pale in the ghostly lights.
Shaking myself, I gripped her elbows, guiding her into the final position. “Now, click the safety off—yes, that tiny notch there. Lift the gun, stare down the sight until the three orange dots line up—very good.”
She was listening, but I felt the tiny quiver in her breathing. I noticed everything, and Marina's anticipation was no exception.
Against her temple, my whisper stirred her tiny hairs. “When you're ready to fire, don't pull the trigger. Squeeze your muscles, your entire hands, instead. It'll keep you steady. Aim for the head, and remember... if this were real, you'd only have one shot.”
My last line made her inhale sharply.
The noise of the gun firing was muted, the suppressor saving our ears from an otherwise shattering explosion. The paper 'fwicked' when the bullet sank in. The hole was low, near the shoulder—but she'd hit the target. That was amazing.
“Oh shit,” she gasped, lowering the barrel and staring up at me. There was a galaxy in her eyes, begging me to go exploring. Her chest was flexing, waves of rich skin that glinted with sweat. This girl was a boiler and firing her first gun had turned her up a million fucking notches.
I thought, if I touched her, she'd scald me.
What better reason was there to get burned?
“Good job,” I said, unsticking my tongue from the roof of my mouth.
“I missed, though,” she noted. “He wouldn't die from that. He'd run, or call for help.”
Nodding at the target, I frowned. “Chances are he'd shoot back. You'd be dead.”
Marina looked away, not flinching like I'd predicted. “I need to practice more,” she said. I swear, she was talking to herself.
Reaching out, I took the Ruger. “I think we can fix your aim right now.” The gun was set aside, I lifted my hands. “Here, do this. Make a diamond shape with your thumb and pointer.”
Frowning, Marina copied me. We stood there, staring at each other through the gaps between our palms. I kind of loved it.
“Now what?” she asked, a tiny smile growing.
Now I grab your thick fucking hair and see how good my aim is when I shove my ridiculous hard-on between your thighs.
I kept my thoughts at bay . Grinning so my teeth showed, I closed one eye. “Look through the hole at the target. Shut one eye, then the other. You should only be able to see the paper through—”
“Oh!” she laughed, cutting me off. “I get it. Yeah, I'm seeing it with my left eye shut.”
“Right eye dominant,” I answered. Dropping my arms, I handed her back the gun. “This time, line the sight up and shut your
Marina slid her finger away, looking up at me patiently. A strand of hair, freed from the loose ponytail, trailed over her right eyebrow. “What's the next step?” she asked in a hush.
“Well, it's actually the real first step.” Pointing, my fingertip brushed over her thumb. “Pull the bolt back, make sure you have bullets in there.”
“You loaded it, I know there are bullets.”
Arching an eyebrow, I sighed. “Unless you yourself load in the clip, always check.”
The flicker of stubbornness she'd shown me was pushed down deep. Marina yanked the metal, exposing the chamber. Once she saw the bullets, she gave me a pointed look and slammed the bolt back into the Ruger. “Okay. Done.”
My hands came down on her shoulders. She became ridged, startling by my grip. I ignored her reaction and turned her towards the target.
“Face it like this.” Looking down, I saw how unstable her feet were. “And these,” I whispered, kicking her legs apart until she was balanced. “Make sure you're not going to topple over when you fire.”
I heard the sound of her swallowing. That, I couldn't ignore.
“Got it,” she said quietly.
Just like that, I was aware of her presence. Marina was under my grasp, her spine curving inches from my chest, her perky ass so close to my hips I only needed to rock forward to meet her.
Her exposed neck beamed at me, oddly pale in the ghostly lights.
Shaking myself, I gripped her elbows, guiding her into the final position. “Now, click the safety off—yes, that tiny notch there. Lift the gun, stare down the sight until the three orange dots line up—very good.”
She was listening, but I felt the tiny quiver in her breathing. I noticed everything, and Marina's anticipation was no exception.
Against her temple, my whisper stirred her tiny hairs. “When you're ready to fire, don't pull the trigger. Squeeze your muscles, your entire hands, instead. It'll keep you steady. Aim for the head, and remember... if this were real, you'd only have one shot.”
My last line made her inhale sharply.
The noise of the gun firing was muted, the suppressor saving our ears from an otherwise shattering explosion. The paper 'fwicked' when the bullet sank in. The hole was low, near the shoulder—but she'd hit the target. That was amazing.
“Oh shit,” she gasped, lowering the barrel and staring up at me. There was a galaxy in her eyes, begging me to go exploring. Her chest was flexing, waves of rich skin that glinted with sweat. This girl was a boiler and firing her first gun had turned her up a million fucking notches.
I thought, if I touched her, she'd scald me.
What better reason was there to get burned?
“Good job,” I said, unsticking my tongue from the roof of my mouth.
“I missed, though,” she noted. “He wouldn't die from that. He'd run, or call for help.”
Nodding at the target, I frowned. “Chances are he'd shoot back. You'd be dead.”
Marina looked away, not flinching like I'd predicted. “I need to practice more,” she said. I swear, she was talking to herself.
Reaching out, I took the Ruger. “I think we can fix your aim right now.” The gun was set aside, I lifted my hands. “Here, do this. Make a diamond shape with your thumb and pointer.”
Frowning, Marina copied me. We stood there, staring at each other through the gaps between our palms. I kind of loved it.
“Now what?” she asked, a tiny smile growing.
Now I grab your thick fucking hair and see how good my aim is when I shove my ridiculous hard-on between your thighs.
I kept my thoughts at bay . Grinning so my teeth showed, I closed one eye. “Look through the hole at the target. Shut one eye, then the other. You should only be able to see the paper through—”
“Oh!” she laughed, cutting me off. “I get it. Yeah, I'm seeing it with my left eye shut.”
“Right eye dominant,” I answered. Dropping my arms, I handed her back the gun. “This time, line the sight up and shut your
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