GOOD FRIEND Volume 3: Spot Me

Jillian’s books contain intense adult situations
and are intended for mature readers.

If you are under the age of 18, this page isn’t for you.


This short story is the Third in the GOOD FRIEND series from Jillian Hoff.

Get it for Kindle at Amazon HERE.

Excerpt from GOOD FRIEND Volume 3: Spot Me:

Even only half hard, it was at least eight inches.

“Whoa there! Damn, Brad! How come I never knew about this treasure?”

“You tell me.”

I gripped his dick in my hand and squeezed. It got harder. Nine inches now, for sure.

“Must have had it hidden under the coat, huh?”

Brad closed his eyes and let his head fall back to the bench.

“Will you let me up?” he asked.


“What do you want?”

“That was me outside your bar the other night. I saw you too. I came here tonight to do this.”

“To do what?”

I answered by leaning over and wrapping my lips around the head of his cock. I twisted my wrist rhythmically as I slowly sucked down two inches or so on him. Fully erect, I’m not sure one of our old school rulers would be long enough to give me an accurate measurement.

“Oh! Oh my God!”

I pulled up and looked over the bar at him.

“Do you understand now?”

“I think I’m getting it.”

“Stay where you are and we’ll see where this goes. If the weight gets to be too much, I can always stop.”

“Please don’t stop.”

I went back down on him, taking him halfway in now. He was thick, but not more than I could handle. I bobbed up and down, sucking a little harder on the upstroke, wringing the base of his shaft with both hands. He moaned his approval each time my lips touched skin further down.

I knew what he wanted. It’s what every guy I’ve ever met wants. I’m not a fucking sword swallower, but I gave it a try.

A couple more inches down, at least, and I gagged. I pulled back and caught my breath, then tried again. My nose was still two inches away from his abdomen. Again, the gag. I pulled out.

“Sorry,” I said.

“Please. That’s the best sound I’ve ever heard in my life.”

I ran my fingers up and down the underside of his shaft.

“Oh, really?”

“Definitely. Better than I imagined.”

“You’ve imagined me choking on your cock?”

“At least twice weekly since the time I watched you eat a popsicle freshman year.”

I laughed. “That was almost ten years ago. How do you remember?”

“It’s the kind of thing you don’t forget.”

“Twice weekly, huh?”

He shrugged, as well as possible with the bar on him.

“Do you jerk off to it?”

That one took him by surprise. He stammered, not forming words, probably worried I had intentions of punishing him for his deviant thoughts. I moved my lips back, so they were touching him, then breathed out my words on the head of his dick.

“Is this what you imagined?” I asked, throwing in a light flick of my tongue for good measure. “That I would suck you like a popsicle? Will you melt in my mouth as you heat up, Brad? I certainly hope not.”