by Melinda Minx
I laugh. “A White Russian? You think that’s going to make you seem sophisticated?”
She crosses her arms and pouts at me. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and glares at me. “Don’t make fun of me, Hunter.”
“Hunt,” I say.
“And after we have a drink together, Elise, what do you think will happen next?”
“Well,” she says, face burning red once again, “I think we both know, don’t we?”
“I want to hear you say it.”
She bites her lip, and it takes all my willpower not to grab her and crush my lips against hers.
“Say it,” I say.
I catch a glimpse of Dash sitting at the bar. When he sees me look over at him, he raises his glass to me and grins. Asshole.
“I want you to take me to your place, Hunter.”
“And then?” I ask.
“We can...have coffee.”
“Is that a euphemism for something?”
“Go get me my drink!” she snaps. “Stop teasing me.”
I laugh and walk off toward the bar. I order her a drink, and Dash grabs my arm.
“You’ve got this, man. Even though you bailed on me as wingman, I’ll let it slide.”
I roll my eyes. “This is fucking stupid, I shouldn’t--”
Dash shakes his head. “Do what your cock tells you, Hunt. That’s always been my philosophy, and it’s never failed me.”
“What about that time you got the shit kicked out of you by that lady’s husband?”
“It was totally worth it,” Dash says, grinning. “Pussy is always worth it, and the one you’re about to plow into is--”
I shove him. “Watch it, man.”
He cackles. “Shit! She’s already got you wrapped around her finger, huh? Never knew you liked ‘em so young--”
“Two White Russians,” the bartender says, sliding the drinks over.
“Get fucked, Dash,” I say, grinning.
Dash takes a big swig of whisky. “That’s the plan.”
I bring Elise her drink. “You had a White Russian before?”
“Of course,” she says, her voice way too defensive for it to be true.
She takes a small sip, and her eyes widen. “It’s good.”
I nod. “They make good drinks here.”
“What drink should we try next?” she asks me.
An evil grin fills my face, and I say in a low whisper. “Coffee. At my place.”
She chokes on her drink a bit, and she pulls her long hair back behind her ears as she blushes.
“What do you do, Hunt?” she asks, sipping at her drink.
I’ll do whatever you want me to. “It’s boring, and do you really care?”
“You must be pretty good at whatever you do,” she says, looking me up and down.
“Business,” I say. “And yes, I’m very good at it. What about you?”
“I, uh, I’m a student still.”
Please don’t say high school.
“Where?” I ask.
“I just started at NYU,” she says.
I let out a sigh of relief.
She laughs. “Afraid I was still in high school?”
I grin. “Nah, I was just worried you went to Columbia or something. I’m not a fan of that place.”
She laughs. She knows I’m full of shit, but she doesn’t call me on it.
“I’m majoring in business,” she says. “My mom basically forced me to, but I do like it. You probably could give me some good advice and tips, huh?”
I’ve got one tip I can give her, and it’s hard and ready. “Yeah,” I say, “I’m sure I could, but that’s not really what I’m planning for tonight.”
“You don’t want to discuss it over coffee?” she asks, smiling.
“I don’t usually talk much when I’m doing coffee with a woman.”
“How do you like your coffee?” she asks.
I lean in closer to her, and I gently move her hair over her shoulder and run my hand through her dark strands. “Black…”
She bites her lip. “I like mine with extra cream.”
I burst out laughing, and she crosses her arms and pouts at me.
“You’re so fucking--” I start, but she looks so legitimately angry that I stop in mid-sentence.
“You’re so fucking hot,” I say. “You’re…”
I squeeze her arm, and her lips part. She grabs hold of my bicep, and I can feel her trembling through her tight grip.
I lean closer toward her, and she squeezes my arm even harder. She’s scared, but her eyes are telling me “yes.”
I lean in even closer, never breaking eye contact with her. Her lips part even wider, and finally her eyes close. I go in.
Our lips press together, and her taste fills me. I want more, and I slide my tongue right into her mouth without wasting any time.
She freezes in hesitation for a few moments, but soon I feel her tongue warm against mine, and she slides it along my lips. I inhale deep through my nose as I drink up her wet tongue and full lips. I can’t get enough of her taste and her smell.
My hands grip her tiny waist, and her full breasts press into my body as we kiss. I slide a hand along her arm until it’s resting on the bare skin of her back. Her skin is smooth and delicate, and it’s soft as silk. But not as soft as her lips.
I bite her lips gently, and I feel a stifled moan rumble across her throat. Her hand runs up and down my strong, tattooed arm, while she digs her nails into my muscular back with her other.
We kiss and grab each other for a long time. The noise and bustle of the bar fades away to nothing. There is only us.
Finally we pull away from one another, and there’s an electric current running through my entire body. It feels like her skin was laced with a powerful opiate, though I doubt heroin even feels this good.
“Coffee,” I say.
She grabs her phone.
I narrow my eyes.
“I’m getting an Uber,” she says. “What’s your address?”
“I got it,” I say.
I’ve had one too many drinks to drive us home. I grab my phone.
Dash comes up to us with a girl on his arm. She’s older than Elise, but barely.
“So you guys are heading out?” he asks, grinning. “I’m Dash.”
Elise smiles and holds out a hand. “Elise.”
They shake hands, and Dash points to the girl on his arm, “This is...uh…”
“Ivanna,” she says, more to Dash than to Elise and me. She leans toward us and whispers, “I doubt he will remember my name, but I don’t care.”
Elise laughs nervously. I’m sure as fuck going to remember her name, I realize. I haven’t even fucked her once--just kissed her--and already she’s got some kind of hold on me.
“Have fun,” Dash says, winking and pulling Ivanna away toward the bar.
The car is outside a few minutes later. Elise and I slide into the back seat, and now that she’s outside of the bustle and soft lighting of the bar, she looks even more innocent than before. I can see the nervousness painted on her face, even as she grips tight to my arm in the backseat of the car.
I’m tempted to get started on her right now, but the Uber driver is a woman about my age, and she’s already side-eyed the hell out of me when we got in.
The driver takes us to my place, through a mostly silent cab ride. There’s only the tension between Elise and me, barely contained within the small car.
The car pulls up to my place and stops.
“You live here?” Elise asks, looking up at my building overlooking Central Park.
“Yeah,” I say. “Come on.”
I take her inside by the hand, get into the elevator, and ride up to my penthouse.
“Wow…” she utters. “You must be really good at whatever it is you do.”
“I’m good at business,” I say, “but I’m best at making coffee.”
She laughs nervously, and I pull her into my apartment.
S
he looks around, wide-eyed.
“Do you actually want a cup of coffee first,” I ask, “or--”
She jumps up onto me and wraps her legs around me. I grab hold of her and kiss her deeply, as I hold her against my body. I walk toward the bedroom as we kiss.
No coffee. Just fucking.
My cock has been rock-hard for the past hour. I keep imagining Elise’s full lips wrapped tightly around my hard and veiny cock, but as I throw her down onto my bed, I get an eyeful of her black panties, and I realize I want to tongue her clit and drink up her juices more than anything else.
“Hunter,” she says, “I’m--”
“Hunt,” I interrupt. “And what did I tell you about talking during coffee?”
I grab hold of her legs just above the knees, and she lets out a low moan as her eyes roll back in her head. Her legs feel so fucking good, and I slide my hands up slowly along the flesh of her thighs. Soon I’m nearing her panties, and she’s biting her lip in anticipation.
“Get that dress off,” I bark at her.
She looks up at me in surprise.
“Off!” I say. “Now!”
She reaches down and pulls at the dress. She hikes it up and exposes her perfect, flat stomach, and then she pulls it up over her head to reveal her big tits squeezed into a black lacy bra.
“That bra is too small for you,” I say, awe seeping into my voice.
“They’re...still growing,” she says. “I need to go shopping.”
Fucking hell. Still growing. She really is too young for me, but I can’t go back now.
I squeeze her thighs as I gaze at her beautiful, perky tits.
“Take it off,” I order.
She doesn’t hesitate this time. I squeeze her ass as she reaches back and pops off the bra.
It falls to the bed, and her amazing tits pop free. They seem to defy gravity, and I can’t help but let go of her ass and bury my face between them.
She giggles at first, but as soon as I get my hands on her flesh mounds, and when my fingers graze her nipples, she stops laughing. She leans back and moans loudly as I run a thumb over one nipple, and my tongue across the other.
“Oh, Hunter…” she moans. “God!”
I flick my tongue across her nipple as it points up, growing impossibly hard beneath my tongue.
“Good girl, Elise,” I say, and then I put the whole nipple into my mouth and suck on it for all I’m worth.
She screams, and I bite down on her. Her hips buck up into the air, and her fingers dig into the back of my scalp through my hair.
I worship her fucking tits, drinking up and licking every last square inch of them. I knead and massage, lick and suck, and when I’m done, they are raw and covered in marks. I’ve claimed them, and they’re mine now.
I start to work my way back down across her stomach, kissing as I go. She writhes as I sink below her bellybutton, and I tease her just above the hem of her panties.
“Please,” she says.
Mmmm. I like to hear her beg, but there’s no need. No force in the world could stop me from drinking up her juices.
I grab her panties with both hands, and with a sudden burst of intensity, I tear them off of her.
“My panties,” she shrieks.
“Now you really need to shop for new clothes,” I say, and I gaze at her perfect fucking pussy. It’s neatly shaved with only a small strip of hair in the center. Her lips are swollen and glistening.
“You’re so fucking wet,” I say. “How long have you been wet for me?”
“Since I first saw you, Hunter,” she says.
“Good girl,” I whisper.
I run a hand down along her trimmed pubic hair, and then I go ever so slowly and gently further down across her bare skin. When my finger grazes her soaking and swollen lips, she lets out a yelp and bucks her hips.
“I’ve barely touched you,” I say, my eyes widening.
“So touch me more.”
I press against her lips and slide my fingers slowly down. I slide one finger into her drenched hole, and then I pull it back out and slide it toward her clit. As soon as I press lightly against her clit, her body tightens. I rub gently, and her hips buck up toward me. She grabs her own breasts and bites her lip.
I can’t take it anymore; I’m hungry for her. I dive between her legs and run my tongue up her pussy. The taste and smell of her sends me into a frenzy, and I slide my tongue up inside her warm channel. Her legs wrap around my head, and I feel her press into me, begging me for more without saying a single word.
I give her what she wants. I drink up her juices and fuck her with my tongue. Then I bring my tongue out and edge up to her clit, and I press my tongue and lips all along her overly sensitive nub. She screams out and moans my name, and I don’t let off for even a moment.
I grab hold of her hips and worship her clit, and when her moans become frenetic and breathless, I realize she’s not going to last long. I have to use all my strength to keep her hips down, as her clit swells even larger, and she comes hard against me.
I never let go of her clit as she comes, digging her nails into my head. Only when she is panting and spent do I dip down and lick up all of her thick juices.
“Don’t,” she whines.
“I guess I like cream in my coffee, too,” I say, sucking up all of her wetness.
“It feels so good…” she says.
No shit it feels good. I’m probably the first man to ever make her come like that. Guys her age probably haven’t even been able to find her clit, and even if they could, they wouldn’t know what to do with it.
My cock is ready to burst out of my pants now. I’ve been wanting her to suck me off with those beautiful lips--to blast my load down her throat--but her pussy is soaking wet now, and it’s begging for me to stuff my thick cock inside her.
I pull off my shirt as I look down at her body. Her white skin looks ghostly pale and perfect against my dark sheets, and her jet black hair is spilling out across the white pillows.
Her eyes widen as I throw my shirt to the ground.
“Jesus,” she says. “For a--” She covers her mouth with her hand.
I laugh. “For an older guy?”
“You’re ripped,” she says. “You’re not that old, Hunter.”
I laugh. “I’m thirty-six. Twice your age.”
She starts to mouth words silently and tap her thumb against her fingers.
“Are you doing math?” I ask.
“I’m doing the formula,” she says. “Hold on.”
She frowns.
I laugh. “What is the formula?”
“I take my age, subtract it by seven, and divide by two.”
“Twenty-two,” I say. I don’t need any time to do such simple math. “Is that the oldest you’re supposed to date?”
“It’s just a stupid formula,” she says, pouting.
I grin. “I can date a 58-year-old.”
She rolls her eyes. “It scales a lot as you get older. In just a few years, I’d be old enough to date you.”
“We don’t have to date,” I say, looking down at her wet pussy.
“Oh?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “So you just want to have coffee with me, and then never see me again?”
No. I realize it now. One time with her won’t be nearly enough, will it? She’s a drug, and I’m already addicted after only one taste. I need to sink my cock deep inside her and fill her up with my seed, and then I’ll need her again and again.
And then I think of Nadine. How am I going to do what I need to do for Sencorp and image while dating a fucking 18-year-old?
I shake my head and push those thoughts aside. It’s not something I’ll worry about now.
“I want you,” I say. “Right now.”
“But Hunter,” she says, her voice pretending to be worried. “The formula…”
“First lesson in business,” I say, unbuckling my belt, “is to never trust a fucking formula. You don’t run a business by trusting cookie-c
utter shit or painting by numbers. You listen to your gut and your instinct.”
I throw my belt to the ground and unbutton my jeans. Elise’s eyes are locked onto my crotch. I have no idea if she’s listening to a word I say. I don’t really even fucking care.
“So,” she says. “If it feels right, I do it?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Exactly.”
Or, I think to myself, you do it if it feels wrong. If it feels wrong and this good, then you also just do it. I keep that piece of advice to myself.
“It felt really right, Hunter,” she says. “What you did to me.”
“Good,” I say. “So we throw out the formula and do what feels right. What feels good.”
She nods, licking her lips. “Yeah.”
Her eyes are locked on the big bulge in my pants. I pull the zipper down and drop my jeans.
My briefs are squeezing my cock, but it’s struggling--and almost succeeding--to burst out.
“Jesus,” she says, wide-eyed.
“Never had one this big?” I ask.
There’s no point in being fucking modest. I know I’m big, I might as well act like it.
She shakes her head as her cheeks blush.
“Take it out,” I say.
She’s on her knees in an instant. She crawls across the bed toward me, her long hair hanging down, partially draped across her shoulders as she moves.
She grabs my underwear by the waist with two fingers, and tugs.
“Stop wasting time,” I bark.
She grips my cock through the underwear, and my eyes roll back in my head. Her hands feel so tiny on my thick rod, and the warmth from her is more than I can bear.
“Off,” I whisper.
She pulls my underwear down, and my cock springs up.
“Whoa,” she says, laughing, her voice and her laugh sounds childish.
God, it’s wrong. And it feels so good.
She squeezes the base of my cock, and eyes it in wonder. It’s probably the first time she’s held a real man’s dick in her hand.
“Get on your back,” I order. “And spread your legs.”
“Don’t you want me to--”
“No,” I say, cutting her off. “I want to fuck you, Elise, right now.”
I shove her back and she lands flat on her back. I grab her feet and push her legs back.
“You’re so big, Hunter,” she says, sounding scared. “Please be…”
