the life and musings of a kinky slut

A Drink

~ erotica ~

“You look beautiful sweet girl.”
“Thank you Daddy.”
“Why did you ask to meet?”
“I was pretty tonight and wanted you to see me in my dress. Also I was feeling especially horny and so I thought of you.”
“Always happy to be on your mind.”

He kissed me on my forehead, pulled out the tall chair at the bar, and helped ease me into my seat.

“What would you like to drink tonight, baby?”
“My favorite, please.”

He waved over the bartender.

“Bourbon neat for me and a whiskey sour for the lady.”

We sat at the corner of the bar in the back, dim lights barely making our figures perceivable from twenty feet away. We tended to gravitate towards dark almost private corners. 

The slit in my rose gold dress rose to middle of my thigh. He slid his hand up my skin and settled it on his usual protective possessive position.

“What was the occasion tonight?”
“Work dinner. Yearly awards ceremony. I like to stunt on my co-workers every once in a while, remind them how bad of a bitch I can be.”
“I think they know that from your work everyday, sweet girl.”
“Yes, Daddy, but this is different. The OR is gross. What we do is amazing, and gross. Me looking pretty is not something they often see.”
“But I do.”

He leaned in and nuzzled his nose to my ear as his hand crept higher. 

“And you look exceptionally fuckable tonight.”
“You always make me feel so special, Daddy.”

His free hand grabbed my chin, pulling my gaze to his.
“Because you are, my sweet girl.”

The hand on my thigh crept still higher, now feeling the wetness that sprang from my lower lips.

“You are smart, talented, beautiful, and a fucking badass. Do you hear me?”
“Yes Daddy.”
“That’s my sweet girl.”

He kissed me like the first time, when we stood in a light drizzle on a fall night years ago, after he said he wasn’t the relationship type and I said I was married to my work. His tongue took possession of my mouth then and now, demanding its due, forcing waves of pleasure to pass over me. I swooned the first time we kissed. This time, I was glad I was sitting down. 

His middle finger tip gently swept aside the hood of my clit and ever so slightly grazed the sensitive ball of nerves. I gasped into his mouth.

“Daddy,” I moaned breathlessly. 

He bit my lip. My eyes shot open. I don’t know when I had closed them, but now I stared deep into him.

“Mine,” he said, not as a question but as a statement of fact, a declaration. No matter what others thought, what we seemed to be in their inquisitive stares, all that mattered was that I was his.

“Always,” I sighed.

He leaned back, bringing his hand to his face. I watched as he inhaled my scent and licked his finger.

“What time do you have to be at hospital tomorrow?”
“I don’t; day off. Do you have to go into the office?”
“Oh. How much can I have of you tonight?”
“I have to get back in about an hour.”
“Oh.” I tried to not show my disappointment too much.

At that moment, the bartender sat down our drinks.

I picked up my glass, swished the liquor and mixer around, and threw back the alcohol in a few gulps.

“My place?” I asked.

He huffed, and a large grin spread across his face.

“Of course.” He grabbed his drink, took three big gulps, and stood.

Instinctively, he reached out his hand to mine and I grabbed it. I used it for balance as I hoped off the tall bar stool onto my heals. My eyes were almost to the level of his chin.

“You are so tall.”
“And you are so beautiful.”

He spun me around, taking in the floor length dress.

“More of this. I want to see you in more dresses.”
“Well, you know this one is special. You got it for me that one random Spring Sunday as a reward for me cleaning out my closet. We went to that little boutique.”
“Yes, and…” He leaned in. “I fucked you in that dressing room while the attendant at the cash register pretended to not hear us.”
“I remember. You wouldn’t let me moan.”

As he leaned into me, I could feel the hard on forming in his pants.

“We should get going. You do have to get back to the office.”
“Yes, but not before I sink so deep into you you’re crying and climaxing at once.”

He kissed me again, cupping the back of my head and half dipping me. I gripped onto his shirt, wishing only to rip it off. His hand slid down and pressed into my back as the other swept over my hip to then grip my ass. One of my legs rose, pulling his hips towards my crotch.

“Ahem.” The bartender coughed, getting our attention. Our check sat in a black leather billfold. 

We turned back towards each other and laughed. Daddy pulled out a $50 and handed it over saying “keep the change”.

He then gripped my hand and led me out of my favorite dive bar less than a block away from my apartment and my bed.

As we walked out, I wondered what people thought of this older looking man in a business causal suite leading my young looking self in my formal gown away. 

But the wetness between my pussy lips didn’t actually fucking care.

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