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“That’s it,” I say, picking her up and carrying her back to the couch in the room, bending her right over my knee. “You clearly didn’t learn anything in the kitchen so I’m going to teach you now.”
I raise my hand to spank her, but then realize that surely this place has cameras, just like the establishments run by the mafia do back in Italy.
I flop her onto the couch and quickly look toward the ceiling and all the obvious areas, finding the cameras I twist them free and toss them to the ground. I whip out my phone and open an app that searches specifically for live feeds or cameras trying to connect to Wi-Fi. One more pops up and I track it down…a fake charger plugged into the wall. Of course. Yanking it out I toss it to the ground and stomp on it.
“Now it’s just the two of us,” I growl, grabbing her off the couch and bending her right back over my knee. The second I hike up her dress my dick goes instantly hard, my anger mixing with aggression topped off with extreme desire. I yank her panties down and before she has time to know what’s happening I slap her bare ass, the feel of her flesh in my palm causing my balls and stomach to tighten to levels I didn’t know were possible.
Damn, I’m practically ready to come now and I’m just touching her. This never happens, not that I’ve been touching women lately, or at all. I’ve always avoided them, partly because there was something there that never quite inspired me, never quite got me going. And partly because they can be used against you as a weakness.
“Daddy,” she says as if reading my mind. Fuck, that word is my weakness, and am I ever inspired, both my mental and physical needs complete at the sound of it, almost like that single word gives me permission to be who I’ve always wanted to be, but never quite understood that person was inside of me. “I want to learn, Daddy. I want you to teach me…from my knees.”
I unbutton a button on my shirt, the temperature inside this air-conditioned room scorching.
“Tell Daddy exactly what you mean by that, bambi,” I command.
Looking back over her shoulder at me, my hand still firmly planted on her ass, she replies, “I want to take out that big hard cock that’s pressing into my stomach and ram it into my dripping wet pussy.”
“Your virgin pussy?” I question on a hard swallow.
“I’m not a virgin,” she denies way too quickly, giving herself away that she’s never given herself to another man.
“You’re as innocent as the day you were born, Bellissima.”
She can only whimper at my Italian word for her.
“What did you expect coming here tonight?”
“I told you. I want to learn from you.”
“You didn’t even know I was going to be here. I didn’t even know I was going to be here.”
“I was naughty, Daddy. I snuck into my father's room and saw all the one-dollar bills and the free lap dance voucher. Then I came up with a plan.”
“Has anyone else seen you in this outfit tonight?” I snarl, the thought of it makes me want to storm the club and rip every figlio di puttana’s eyes out and wipe their memories clean.
“No. Just one other girl in the changing room.”
“Not the manager?”
“No, he’s creepy.”
“What did he do to you?”
“Nothing.”
“What did he try to do to you, and don’t lie to Daddy.”
“He wanted me to put his hard thing in his mouth.”
“Did he show it to you?” This figlio di puttana is going to pay for what he did.
“No, Daddy. I promise. I was too smart for him.”
“Yes, you are smart, aren’t you little girl.”
She nods.
“That naughty little head of yours always coming up with ideas.”
