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The bar’s loud and alive with people and music when I arrive. It’s dark, and yet I spot my target with fucking ease, like there’s some unerring beacon that draws me to her. My own personal North Star.
Karlee’s friend, Laura, melts away when I arrive. She’s had a few from her bright smile as she turns and sees me. “Tizio. Sir.” Her smile is everything as she wraps herself around me.
“We need to go home, Karlee.”
“No, I’m fine. I’ve had three drinks and feel good, not drunk, not even tipsy.” Her fingers walk down my sweater. “You make me tipsy.”
I can’t control the groan or my reaction to her. She’s so close that I’m pretty fucking sure she can feel my dick stir.
“You’re a fucking brat.”
“I am,” she says. “Maybe you need to punish me.”
A laugh breaks free. “Isn’t your ass sore?”
“In the best way.” She slides her hands around my neck.
We’re in danger zone territory, near the back, and in a dark corner. Karlee’s so fucking gorgeous in her socks and shirt-plaid skirt she favors. She’s wearing a sweet little top, this one with Your Blood, My Floor on it in a violent pink. It’s a little short, a little tight, and it’s easy to slide a hand up under it. It shows her tits way too well.
She’s so fucking gorgeous, and I’m so fucking weak that I kiss her right as she’s coming to kiss me.
Everything flares into bright, searing life. We’re combusting and can’t keep our hands off each other, and if I don’t watch it, she’s going to climb me like a pole, and I’m going to fuck her.
I pull her off me and wrap my hand in her hair. “Karlee, stop.”
“Make me.”
“I’m beginning to think no one can make you do anything.”
“You should find out.”
Reason states this is the most stupid thing in the fucking world. It states I should drag her out and back to mine if—if—I’m going to do anything.
But I want her more than I have reason. The idea of risqué and getting caught outweighs everything else. I let her tug me down the hall that veers from the bathrooms. A bright and devilish grin curves her generous mouth as she looks at me, and she pulls me into a room that says Manager.
Karlee pushes me against the door and reaches around to flip the lock. She presses into me, and those soft tits are like heaven and hell all in one.
“Didn’t I say something about never again?” I ask softly.
She nods, and grabs my hips, pulling me to her, and she knows I’m hard. “Didn’t I say I needed punishment?”
“Karlee.”
“I’ll show you.” She drops to her knees and undoes my jeans, lowering the zipper and pulling out my now rock-hard cock. Hereyes lift to mine as she starts to pull on me. “You can call me all the names you want. I like it.”
Then she stretches her hot, wet mouth around me and starts to give me head.
Oh. Fuck. My head hits the door with a crack as I try and keep it together. She’s going so far down, choking herself, and then coming up, tongue swirling. Then down again.
I don’t touch her. I keep my hands raised in fists above my head on the door. I just let her do what the fuck she wants.
Karlee wants to do a lot. She’s going at me like a fucking Olympic gold medalist in blow jobs, palming my balls and driving me insane with the need to come. I want to fucking fill her mouth, I want to ram myself into her cunt and take her hard.
She’s making a sound that hums along my shaft and it’s good, too good. I drag her up and off me because if I let it go on longer, I’m going to fucking come.
I lift her and turn her so she hits the wall. I kiss her so deep we’re both moaning, rocking against each other. I slip my hand down, shove her cotton panties aside, and play with her, teasing her, pushing into her depths, then rubbing over her clit and making her writhe.
Lifting my head, I bite her throat, on one of the spots from the other day and she gasps, clutching at me. “Didn’t I say no more.”
