Hansel and Gretel With the Sexual Hunter Read Online Free Page B

binds,
he could push her into the huge store facility oven and grill the witch. The
question was, how could he get out of the binds?
    Maybe if he built some sort of trust, he could convince
this Wicka woman to release him.
    Wicka went to Gretel’s chair. “Do you know how
beautiful you are?” She began to unbutton Gretel’s shirt.
    One button undone. She traced her finger down to the
second button.
    “I bet you know it.”
    Two buttons undone. She traced her finger down to the
third button.
    “But has a woman ever told you how beautiful you are?”
    Three buttons undone. She traced further down.
    Hansel noticed Gretel’s breath getting heavy. Did this
excite her? Terrify her? Hansel felt an uncomfortable history lesson in his
pants. The Battle of the Bulge. It was getting cramped in there.
    “What are you feeling right now, Gretel?”
    Down, down. Under the hem of Gretel’s skirt, Wicka’s
hand reached and disappeared.
    “Are you excited or frightened?”
    Hansel could see Wicka’s wrist wiggle as though she
were manipulating her fingers deep under Gretel’s skirt.
    “Ooh. You are excited, aren’t you?”
    She came back to Hansel.
    “And how are you doing down there?” She squeezed his
crotch, putting a firm grip around his hard-on. “You’re doing quite well, I
see.”
    Hansel bit back a moan. He couldn’t let Gretel see that
he was turned on.
    Wicka said, “How about a blow job, Hansel? Would you
like a blow job from your girl?”
    Hansel looked at Gretel. She seemed just as paralyzed
by the situation as he was.
    “But you don’t want one, do you? Why is that?”
    How did she know, Hansel wondered? By the expression on
Gretel’s face, Gretel seemed to be wondering the same thing.
    “Hansel,” Wicka said, “You don’t know what you’re
missing.”
    She crouched in front of Gretel. “So how about it, Gretel?
How about you show him what he’s missing?”
    She grabbed the back of Gretel’s chair and dragged Gretel
closer to Hansel so that her chair faced his.
    “Ready for this, Hansel?”
    She tilted Gretel’s chair so that Gretel’s face was
buried in his crotch.
    Wicka said, “You’ll need to use your mouth to free his
cock, first.”
    Gretel looked up at Hansel as though asking what to do.
Hansel bent as close to her ear as possible. He whispered, “If we gain her
trust, she might free our limbs.”
    Wicka grabbed Hansel’s head of hair and Hansel sucked
in his breath when he felt the pain of her yanking back his head. She then
gripped his collar with both hands and popped open his shirt.
    “Bad boy.” She ran her hand down his sternum, pecs, and
abs. A current trickled across his chest. “No keeping secrets.” She said to Gretel,
“Now get busy on his cock.”
    She pressed Gretel’s face into his crotch. He had a
hard time resisting grinding his waist against his beloved’s lips.
    Hansel looked down at his fiancée. Her blouse was
unbuttoned, her breasts inside her white-lace bra rising and falling. That
alone made him need some friction to satisfy his itch.
    His breaths intensified as Gretel took his zipper
between her teeth and tugged it down. At first, the zipper seemed to have
trouble moving down with the jerks of her head. She had more success pulling
the zipper down slowly. With his fly open, she nudged at his underwear with her
nose and tongue, scooting the fabric of his boxers aside.
    Hansel shifted, trying to help. It worked. His length
popped free from his pants.
    Gretel looked up at him. She kissed the base of his
cock. Then again higher up. And again higher up.
    Hansel twitched in anticipation. This was crazy. It was
crazy that it took such a desperate situation to live out his fantasy.
    She kissed higher. Higher.
    His heart pounded at the sexy sight of her. Her lips so
close to the tip of his cock, her blouse wide open, her cleavage shifting with
every breath she took.
    She took the tip between her lips.
    Hansel exhaled a stuttered breath.
    Gretel’s warm tongue