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“I always like to arrive fashionably late, but I opened an exception for you today. Of course, that means you’re paying.”
“Sure. But I always like to get my money’s worth,” I grin, and I can already tell that I’m going to have fun. Maybe brunch wasn’t such a bad idea.
She’s looking at me.
Holy fuck, are her eyes travelling up and down my body? Is she thinking about how she wants to fuck me?
I match her back, my stare settling on those round swells of her tits and that slender waist.
We eye each other like two boxers in the ring.
It’s not even an awkward silence.
It’s like two warriors getting ready for fucking combat.
When the waiter comes, we both order something, but I don’t fucking remember what and I’m telling you that it doesn't matter.
Because I’m fucking mesmerized by her long legs, and by the way her clothes seem to hug her curves so perfectly. You wouldn’t believe the effort I’m making just to avoid reaching over and just grabbing those tits.
“So, I don’t think you’re going to take me up on my offer,” I start, and she lets out a bright laugh. The sound of it is enough to make my cock twitch. In her videos she’s always moaning and screaming, and she has a voice perfectly designed for that.
“What offer? The management job?” she asks me and I nod. “I don’t think so,” she responds, plucking one strawberry off of one of the trays the waiter has brought us.
I watch as she brings it up to her lips and opens her mouth, sticking her tongue out and placing the strawberry on top of it. While she’s doing this, the gears inside my head start spinning and I can’t stop imagining how it must feel to have her smooth lips wrapped around my shaft. I’d give a lot of money to turn my cock into a strawberry right now—if twelve-inch strawberries existed, that is.
“I have a lot on my plate right now,” she continues saying, and I almost ask her if she wants my cock to be one of those things. Of course, I don’t do it; I’m not a fucking savage 24/7.
“Dirty Destiny is a handful, I’ll take it?” I ask. She smiles, realizing that I’ve already figured out who she really is.
“Handful is the right word, yes,” she says, and then lowers her voice. “But I do like to keep my hands full.” Fuck, she’s playing me like a fiddle. The moment she finishes speaking I’m already imagining her small fingers curled tight around my hard cock.
“Maybe I could help with that,” I find myself saying, unable to stop the words from leaving my mouth.
The food is sitting on the table between us, but I don’t even look at it; there’s just one thing I want to devour in this place, and it sure as hell isn’t a fucking croissant.
“Oh, are you making me a new offer?” she laughs, and the sound of her moans and screams of utter pleasure seem to flood my mind.
I gotta have her.
I don’t think I've ever wanted a woman this much…
Besides, most women just throw themselves at my feet. Destiny isn’t that kind of woman by a long shot.
I know that she’s fucking playing with me, but she’s doing it from a place of full confidence, not one of neediness. In fact, if there’s anyone needy, it’s gotta be me; I’m almost desperate to claim her pussy as mine.
But a flash of her eyes tells her she knows that I’m playing with her.
“No guy has lasted as long as you have sitting across from me and not given up,” Destiny says, as if reading my mind. “In case you were wondering.”
“I’m not most fucking guys, Destiny baby,” I say gruffly.
“I know that,” she replies, and then flashes her eyes and gives me a wicked grin. “Python.”
“I could make you all kind of offers, Destiny.” My heart is picking up the pace, and I already feel boiling blood making traveling between my legs. My cock is twitching again, and I figure that I've got two minutes before I’m wielding a fucking mallet for a cock.
“Do any of them involve working at your club?” Destiny asks. “I like the hot men you have there, but it’d take a lot for me to leave my club… Unless you have something really interesting going on in there,” she whispers, leaning in to me.
She stressed the last part of her sentence, but I have no clue what she’s talking about. Unless… No, there’s no way she knows what we do at Python behind closed doors.
