Smiling at her and her hot little friend, I slide the helmet on my head. “Anytime.” I look down toward her pu**y. “And thanks for the show.” I wink and she looks away embarrassed. I can feel her eyes burning into me as I take off. Hell, I don’t mind. She can undress me with her eyes anytime she wants.
* * *
When I pull up at the bar, it’s completely empty. I toss my cigarette and jump off my motorcycle while looking around, preparing myself. This is a shit shift and you don’t make crap at this time. The bar opens at eleven, but really the business doesn’t take off until late at night when the entertainment comes in.
I don’t mind doing Sarah favors, though, because she has a young child and I want her to be able to be there for him when it’s needed. That shit is very important. If anyone else asked me to cover this crap shift, my answer would be hell to the mother f**king no.
Now, I’ll be stuck here for the next few hours practically talking to myself and hoping for someone to stop in and entertain me. Not my idea of a good day. It gives you too much time to think.
Hilary has already been here and has left. I can tell as soon as I unlock the back door and walk in. The lights are all turned on and the bar is set up and ready to go.
Hilary is the owner. She’s an older woman, maybe in her early fifties. She only stops in once a day and usually it’s when no one is here. She’s good at what she does, though, and helps out whenever she can. I really like her as a person and a manager. She treats us well.
A couple hours into my shift, a woman around my age, mid-twenties, finally comes into the bar and takes a seat in front of me.
I’ve seen her in here a few times before and I have to admit that I’ve thought about taking her home. She’s a natural redhead with a small freckled nose, full lips and a nice set of br**sts. She looks sexy as f**k in those tight little suit skirts. She has to work in some office somewhere. I like the thought of dirtying her. She looks like she needs a good f**k to relieve some of the tension she is carrying around.
Taking a seat in front of me, she smiles and sets her purse down beside her. “I’m taking a quick break from work. Give me a drink of your choice. Anything will do.” Her eyes rake over my body as I reach for a glass and come her way. There’s a look saying she’s looking for what I call the f**k and fly; short and hard. It’s more of a business exchange between two people. I’m used to the look; prone to it. “I’m going to cut to the chase, okay. I don’t have a lot of time, but I have a little time.” She smirks while watching me with desperate eyes.
I’m listening . . .
Reaching for a bottle of Jack, I pour it half way up and add a splash of coke and a little lime juice. It may be a little strong, but she looks like she can handle it. She looks like she can handle a lot of things.
Setting the drink down in front of her, I lean over the bar as she reaches for my shirt and pulls me to her. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about your dick. I need to release some tension and I want you to f**k me. Can you do that? Nothing more. I’m a very busy woman.”
I let my lips brush over her ear before whispering, “For the things I do, you would need a lot more than just a little time.” I place my hand behind her neck and pull her closer to my lips. “I would tie you up to my bed, blindfold you and devour your pu**y with my tongue. Then when I was done, I would stand you up against my wall, bind your hands above you and f**k you until you can’t walk. I would tease you slowly at first to learn your body and what it wants. Then I would f**k you so hard and thoroughly you will never want another cock. I don’t think that is what you’re looking for. Trust me, it’s not easy moving on to just a quick lay after that.”
A throat clears from nearby.
“I see you’re still on the prowl, son.”
Gritting my teeth, I pull away from the redhead and bring my eyes up to meet the one man I wish I could stay away from: my father. He’s more like the devil in a f**king suit. He’s standing there as if he’s so f**king perfect and can’t do any wrong. It pisses me the f**k off.
“What are you doing here?” I begin finding things to do; pretending to be busy. The last thing I want to do is deal with him at the moment.
Stepping up to the bar, he fixes his tie and takes a seat. “Do I need to have a reason to come see my son? We haven’t spoken in over two months.”
Walking over to stand in front of him, I lean down and get in his face. “We both know why too. Don’t come in here acting as if it’s my fault. Get out of here with that shit.”
“Son, calm down.” Pulling out his wallet he searches through it. “I’ll take a Scotch on the rocks.”
Rolling my neck to keep my tongue in check, I make him his f**king drink. I set it down in front of him and lean against the register while watching him sip on it.
He makes a sour face while setting the glass back down. “I see not much has changed since the last time we’ve talked.” I watch him with anger while he adjusts his tie as if he’s better than me. “When will you realize this lifestyle isn’t going to change anything? It won’t make things better.”
Gripping the counter, I lean over the register and turn my head away. I can’t stand to look at him. “Don’t you f**king say it. I don’t need to hear this shit. I’m fine with my life. Why don’t you get back to yours and stop worrying about mine? Don’t f**king judge me.”
We both look over as the redhead slams back her drink and stands up. “I’m out, boys.” She looks at me and winks. “Maybe another time.”
I don’t say anything. I just watch as she leaves. I’m glad, because she doesn’t need to hear this.
“You don’t think I’m concerned about my son? That I don’t see that you’ve thrown your life down the drain? It pisses me off.” He takes another sip and then scoots it across the bar. “You’re better than this. Just because-”
“Don’t you f**king say it,” I growl out at him in warning and shake the counter.
“I’m just telling you that there’s still meaning in your life and you need to find that again. The pain will never go away. I get that but-”
“Fucking stop! Do you understand me?” My voice comes out firmly. “Don’t you say another f**king word about it. It’s done. Over. I’ve moved on.”