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local women," he said, "but the women I
meet, or have, want more, and I simply don't have time to give them
the care they need. In the past, my encounters somehow end up
misunderstood. One girl showed up at my house and my kid—"
    She lifted her head and hit the table. Ouch!
    He rubbed over it feeling for bumps. "You all
right?"
    "I didn't know," she said. A vortex of images of Sir
and a child, a small single family home, minivan, and a dog spun
around in her head. Oh my God, a wife. She didn't ask if he was
married, she presumed he wasn't because he approached her. But what
if he were? Blood drained from her face, her heart thumped.
    "I have a son. It didn't come up before. What is
it?"
    "Are you married?"
    He pinched her chin. "No."
    She buried her face in the small gap between his
legs. Smooth sailing. Smooth sailing.
    Above her, he chuckled. "He's nineteen."
    Oh man, nineteen. She lifted her head and gazed into
his eyes. This was probably why he wanted someone in her thirties,
someone closer to his forty two, not someone closer to his kid's
nineteen.
    "What do you think? I'm too old for you?"
    Was he…he was unsure, he seemed vulnerable, like she
would mind. "I think you're right for me."
    "You say what's on your mind don't you?"
     
    "I try."
    Chair pulled back from the table, his face inches
from hers, their breaths mingled. She wanted to kiss his mouth, and
lick the dark stubble on his face, bite his Adam’s apple. She
leaned forward.
    He leaned back. "Honest little puppy, will do what I
ask her to do. Feeling all warm and bad because she lied about her
age. I could take advantage of that.”
    "I think you should." She inched closer, like a
magnet to steel.
    "I think your mouth could use a plug."
    "Why?"
    "Because my dick needs attention. Show me your
tongue.”
    She stuck her tongue out. His teeth clamped on it,
and held while she reached for his shorts and tried to pull them
down. She keened in the back of her throat from the pressure of his
teeth on her tongue. He leaned back in the chair, taking her with
him. Drool pooled in the back of her mouth, spilled over her chin.
She didn't even try to suck it in. The dirty, the arousing, the
humiliating part of kneeling naked and collared while he bit her
tongue, and fondled her tits, was fun. Both hands on her breasts he
squeezed, growling in the back of his throat. She growled in turn.
He pinched her nipple and she screamed. Drool dripped down her
chest. Mouths locked, her tongue numb, she pinched his inner thigh.
Her eyes smiled and his hardened then narrowed into slits.
    He released her. "You want me to hurt you don't
you?" Sir stood and yanked down his pants. Ass on her heels, she
took in his height, his hard chest, and long legs. His eight and
some inches of hard, long cock would hurt going down her throat,
his mushroom top would block her airways, rush the tears down her
face. She licked her lips and wiggled her ass then placed her hands
on his thighs. She stuck her tongue out and waited.
    He wouldn't give it to her. Instead, he took himself
into his hand and stroked up and down, squeezed the base, drawing
her eyes to his balls ready for sucking. She scooted closer and
brought her face to them so she could breathe him in. He slapped
her nose. She scrunched it up, held back a sneeze. One hand in her
hair he continued to stroke himself, sometimes tapping the wet tip
on her tongue. Her breasts tingled, arousal pooled. Dirty, wet
puppy. She whined softly, begging to have him in her mouth.
    "Aw, do it again."
    She barked.
    She clung to his legs, dug her nails in his skin,
thinking if she could climb him he'd let her savor his skin. He
didn't. He stroked himself watching her. "You want to suck, little
puppy?"
    "Yes."
    "Why?"
    "This puppy is hungry."
    "What's she hungry for?"
    "She's hungry to please."
    "What else?"
    "Attention."
    "Mhm,” he said with a smirk. “Puppy teeth can't have
this bone. You sure you want it?"
    She gave him a sad frown.
    "Let me see that cute