Carina Marie Delvecchio wasn't expectin' much.
It's not like Zachary Noah Rannis had money, or class, or even a car that didn't make alarming noises every time he tapped the brakes. But he had flowers. A gas station bouquet, sure, half-wilted and wrapped in plastic, but she'd never had a guy bring her flowers before, so--fuck it. It was charming.
"Got these for you," he said, shoving them at her like he was afraid they'd bite. "Dunno what kinda flowers they are. The sign just said 'Fresh.'"
Carrie snorted. "Yeah, fresh three days ago."
But she took 'em anyway, 'cause again--flowers.
Dinner was at the Sunoco A Plus on Snyder and Passyunk across from the Barber Shop Lounge, 'cause that's where Zach swore up and down they had the best sushi in the city. Which--fuckin' false--but she liked how earnest he was about it.
"Nah, listen, I'm tellin' you," he said, tearing open a packet of soy sauce with his teeth. "Gas station sushi? It's different here. The guy in the back? He's like, some real Japanese dude, not just some burnout with a fish knife."
Carrie flicked her chopsticks at him. "Bro, I just saw him scratch his ass and go back to rollin'."
Zach grinned, shrugged. "Adds flavor."
She barked out a laugh, and somehow--somehow--that made her kinda like him more. He had this way of talkin', like he was the mayor of fuckin' garbage town, like he'd seen all the worst shit Philly had to offer and decided yeah, actually, this rules.
They ate out in the cold, sittin' on the curb, legs stretched out toward the street. Talked about dumb shit--music, work, how much it sucked living with your mom when you were pushin' 30.
"You got a plan to get out?" Carrie asked, licking soy sauce off her thumb.
Zach snorted. "Yeah. Die."
She laughed so hard she almost choked.
And that was when she realized--fuck. She liked him.
Not in a normal way, but in that real specific, goddammit-I-love-a-dirtbag kinda way.
So when he walked her back to her place, mom off at bowling or some shit, Gianna workin' late, she figured--fuck it. He brought flowers. He bought dinner. He really showed her a good time.
Might as well let him get some.
She grabbed him by the jacket, hauled him onto the couch, and climbed onto his lap, all casual-like, just feelin' him up, workin' his belt open, thinkin' about how easy and fun this was gonna be.
And then--
She got his pants down.
And--
Oh.
Oh, holy shit.
"Dude."
She clapped a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking, trying so fuckin' hard to hold it in--
But she couldn't.
A laugh exploded out of her, full-volume, gut-deep, like she'd just heard the funniest joke of her life.
And Zach?
He moaned.
Carrie froze.
She blinked.
Then grinned.
"Oh, nah," she said, straddling him tighter, wiping a tear from her eye. "This turns you on, don't it?"
Zach's ears went red, but his little cock twitched.
Carrie beamed.
"Oh, we're gonna have fun."
Carrie was still laughing, wiping tears from her eyes, straddling Zach's lap like she wasn't fully wrecking his ego. But the second she saw his tiny cock twitch at the sound of her laugh--
Oh, she was gone.
Grinning ear to ear, she leaned in, her breath warm against his ear. "Stroke that little fuckin' dick for me, Zach."
Zach made a noise--somewhere between a whimper and a gasp, his hands twitching at his sides.
Carrie tilted her head, eyes sparkling with mischief. "What, you need me to spell it out?" She sat back, watching him, biting her lip. "Pound it. Beat it like it owes you money."
Zach let out this shaky little breath--like he'd just gotten sentenced to something deliciously awful--and then, slowly, his hand slid down.
Carrie watched.
Watched his fingers wrap around it. Watched him stroke--fast, desperate, like he really was tryna shake down his own dick for rent.
"Holy shit," she laughed, leaning back, arms draped over the couch. "Look at you."
Zach's face was burning, but his little cock was throbbing, leaking all over his fingers.
"You like this, huh?" she purred. "Me just sittin' here, laughin' at you, watchin' you jerk off your tiny-ass dick."
Zach groaned, his hips jerking, his body trembling.
Carrie smirked.
"Oh, my God, dude," she teased. "You're gonna cum already, ain't you?"
Zach whimpered.
And Carrie?
She just grinned.
"So fuckin' easy."
Zach was already a wreck--stroking himself like a man possessed, breath coming in short little gasps, his body practically shaking under her. He was so close.
Which was exactly why Carrie stopped him.
She grabbed his wrist, making him freeze mid-stroke, his little cock twitching helplessly in his grip. His wide, glassy eyes snapped up to her, confused, desperate.
"Stop," she said, smirking down at him, licking her lips like she was about to devour him. "I need some tongue."
Zach blinked, still panting. "Wh--?"
Carrie grinned.
"Eat me, tiny dick."
Zach whimpered.
Carrie didn't wait.
She climbed off his lap, stretching out on the couch, spreading her legs slow and lazy, like she had all the time in the world. Then she snapped her fingers and pointed between her thighs.
"C'mon. Get to work."
Zach scrambled fast, dropping to his knees like it was what he was made for. His breath was hot against her inner thighs, his hands gripping her legs, needing this, needing to make up for what he was lacking.
Carrie watched him.
Watched his lips part. Watched him dive in, tongue eager, licking, sucking, worshipping like his life depended on it.
"Fuck," she moaned, tilting her head back, letting herself enjoy it. "Maybe that little dick ain't so bad--if it means you know how to use your mouth.*"
Zach groaned against her, tongue working faster, more desperate, like he was trying to earn her approval.
Carrie grinned, running her fingers through his messy hair.
