She confirmed he listened to her every word—hanging on to them, waiting for her to speak again. Good! Very good. She licked her lips.
Nipples hard, she said, “I’d like to have whatever juice you’re serving.” Their eyes locked, and her nails dug a little into him as if saying, “Mine.”
“Red, something tells me you enjoy extremes.” He grabbed the top of her hand.
“Sorry.” She realized she’d gone too far. Typical.
“Don’t apologize.” Interlocking his fingers with hers, Big Daddy shoved her hand to his hard-on.
“I do love…intensity,” she confessed, outlining the large bulge.
His bulge grew under his slacks as if a snake surfaced to the Earth’s soil to sun. Garner’s thick, bulbous head visibly swelled under his linen pants. He was epic from head to toe and back to his other head. She imagined his dick lifting the hood of her clit up. The urge to unzip his fly, pull out his cock and take it into her mouth consumed her more than last month’s Prada sample sale.
Garner’s thick legs spread apart. This dude was a full-time free-baller. “I’ll order us an intense champagne bubble. It’ll pop in your mouth.” He lingered on his statement for a second. His silky words rang a challenge in her ear.
Sensing a stir in her pussy larger than any Ohio tornado, she mumbled, “Uh-huh.”
“Your champagne should have mysterious copper and amber tints.” He observed her hair.
She couldn’t stop rubbing his erection. The pleased look on his face told her he loved it.
“Those are two of my favorite colors.” She resisted the urge to flip her hair back with her hands. A habit she struggled to avoid. With a nod, she moved her neck, hoping her hair would get out of her face.
It didn’t.
Her new Big Daddy reached over and brushed her tresses over her shoulder, out of her view and complimented, “Such gorgeous features.” He grazed her chin with his thumb. “Amazing bone structure too.”
“Thank you.” She’d heard his compliment a million times over, but his caress struck a pulsating chord in her. One she hadn’t felt—ever. His hands felt confident, as if familiar with getting whatever the hell he wanted. She re-crossed her legs as her instincts brought her torso closer to his.
“Where were we?” Perhaps he got lost in her face and the tuberose aroma from her hair he’d unlocked. His nostrils twitched with an inhale, and his mouth exhaled with a smile.
“Discussing my juice’s colors—the champagne.” She squeezed his thigh. Oh my.
“Right, thank you. Perhaps when your taste buds savor the sap you’ll swallow—black cherry.”
“I love cherries.”
“So do I.” His eyes remained on her face.
She understood why. He behaved as a gentleman. But she didn’t desire to be a lady. Not tonight. Her cunt was dipped in Swarovski.
Excel-lent-a-licious, but if you wanna stare at my tits, you can. She leaned forward, running her fingers alongside her collarbone as if to signal to him to play.
He swallowed hard. “Ummm…Red…?”
“Yes?” Her gazed shifted. She examined his lips. He licked them with a thick tongue, with any luck to match his even thicker dick.
“I bet you also want your champagne to taste like a candied fruit peel.”
“Very much so.” Her vivid imagination transported her somewhere away from the club and onto a beach. She fantasized herself lying topless in the sun while he fed her orange glacé slices.
A breathy unevenness hummed between them. His nostrils flared to recover. As his chest rose up and down, it revealed his pecs were as fabulous as her breasts.
Too good to resist, she raised her hand for a torso-hot touch. I wanna lick you.
In an instant, he grabbed her hand, drawing her closer, placing her palm on chest.
Ah! Her thumb rested above his shirt’s thin fabric. “You are such a Big Daddy—a very delectable Big Daddy.” Fuck me pah-lease.
His quarter-sized nipples stiffened under her thumb as if on instinct, thanking her for the compliment. Suddenly, the material between them became somewhat undetectable. “Once the champagne’s tart bubbles glide down your throat and your sugar high kicks in,” He moved her hand from his nipple to the center of his chest. “You’ll feel your heart skip.” He pulsed, lub-dub, lub-dub.
“I see.” A knot rose in her throat. Sweet Jesus nipplelicious. He’s got me. Fighting the urge to tear his white tailored button-down shirt off, she raked her nails over him.
Nodding his head to confirm, he reached for her chin and pulled her face in close, giving her a soft kiss on the lips. Dry at first, lip to lip, no tongue, but a promise for what came next. “You want to sample…smoky aromas, a powdery cocoa on your palate after the first swallow.”
“S-Smoky aromas sound interesting.” She felt itchy. A hot ache burned throughout her. The urge to unzip the damn Céline dress off her fevering body became excruciating.
So flippin’ male. So effin’ mine. So fucking now.
“Do you know what else sounds appealing?” He held on to her face with intent, as if he owned it. He could if he wanted to.
She dreamt she’d be crushed in his hands like candied sugar.
He strived for tenderness, she could tell, as gentle as his bull-designed body would let him. But she didn’t occupy a Lenox china shop. Her body had been crafted in steel. Bring it on, Big Daddy.
Garner’s lips returned to where they left off. His tongue didn’t ask for permission entering. It didn’t tickle, lick or dance. With one deep—intense—plunge, his kiss spoke in silence and declared, “I have you.”
Fucccck, toes curling, scalp tingling, pussy wetting.
Pulling back, he acknowledged, “To reiterate your champagne order.”
“Ooooh—” Intoxicated by his words, she’d disregarded the booze. She hadn’t consumed an alcoholic drop in days. Not with Birdie around.
“You want a bold flavor.” He extended his hand above her breast. Lowering his voice, he asked, “May I?”
Nodding and closing her eyes, she flirted, “You may.” Here we go. It’s my turn.
Heat came from his palm and seared her breast through the gown’s fine material. He hadn’t even touched her skin to skin yet. As the hand came down, she opened her eyes to see him admiring her. “Red, keep your magnificent eyes open for me.”