I’m a bad man.
Logan Pierce, what in the shit is wrong with you?
I’m a forty-year-old man sat in a bar lusting after a girl probably twenty years my junior.
Oh, to be twenty-one again. And had I been, by now, I’d have had her on her knees with that pretty mouth of hers wrapped around my dick while I throat fucked her till she’s crying.
Goddamn, there are plenty of women in this bar more suitable for me, but my fucking eyes keep veering over to her standing by the bar conversing with her friends.
The moment she walked into Q’s my eyes zeroed in on her laughing with her two girlfriends. I can’t tell you how, but I somehow knew she was coming before she even walked in through the door. I’m truly dumbstruck, sat here trying to conjure up the words to describe the way my body reacted when I first saw her.
Her long and sleek golden blonde hair blows back as she pushes the door open and walks in followed closely by her two friends. She’s petite, no taller than five-foot three at most and I’m surprised because for such a small thing her presence fills the rooms almost instantly stifling me. I can hear my buddy Jack talking to me rather animatedly about something that happened at work earlier, but my brain isn’t registering a single fucking word that is flying out of his mouth. Every sound around me becomes distant and indistinct—everything but the sound of her melodious laugh. The vibrant and melodic sound resonates right through me, and I immediately crave more of it.
When she got up on that stage to sing and those amber eyes found mine in the crowd there wasn’t a force on this earth strong enough to compel me to look away. I watched enthralled as she sang the lyrics to ‘I Hate Myself for Loving You’ by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts.
A classic.
She has great taste in music, and I like that.
My attraction for this striking young woman was instantaneous and unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in my life, and I’ve had my share of relationships, some I wouldn’t even deem as such simply because they didn’t last long enough for it to develop into one. The longest relationship I’ve had was with April… my ex-wife and the mother of my son. I gave that malicious woman nineteen years of my life and all she did was suck the life out of me for every single fucking one of them. Had I gotten an inkling of what a manipulative and possessive shrew she really was back then I would have turned and ran as fast and far as humanly possible, but she hid her true colours well, at least until she got pregnant, and we were fast tracked to marriage.
After the experience I had with her I got a vasectomy and swore off marriage. We’ve been divorced for almost eight years now and we’re both happier for it. Well, I can’t speak for her but shit, I certainly am. Though she spent the better half of the eight years relentlessly poisoning and turning my son against me and of course, he chose to buy into all her bullshit stories which has resulted in a breakdown in our relationship. She filled his head with lies, telling him that I was abusive with her, I was a neglectful husband and unfaithful to her.
All fucking lies. I’ve never cheated, despite having the opportunity to do so on countless occasions I remained faithful to her until I took the ring off my finger and signed the divorce papers.
I’m determined to rebuild that severed bond with him and I’ll keep trying—despite that wench’s best effort I will get my kid back but that’s a matter for another day, right now my attention is firmly fixed on the beautiful girl squirming in the passenger seat beside me.
Fucking Christ, I can’t remember ever being this eager to fuck a woman in my life. The sweet and tangy scent of her perfume or whatever product she currently has on is scrambling my brain to a point I’m finding myself fighting the urge to pull this car over, straddle her perfect peachy ass over my lap and feed my cock into her pussy.
I lean across, my lips skimming along the silk flesh of her jaw till I reach the shell of her ear, “Keep that cunt nice and wet for me sweetheart because I’m going to spend the night making you cum in ways you never thought possible.” I vow gruffly in her ear and smile when I feel her quiver ever so slightly.
Savannah turns her head slightly to look at me when I start to draw back. My eyes drop to the soft pillow of those divine lips of hers which she has clasped between her teeth. I almost lean in to suck on her lower lip but much to my disappointment the traffic light turns green, so I’m forced to pull away and resume driving, the impatient asshole behind me has already begun flashing and beeping at me to get a move on. Talk about ruining the damn moment.
The drive to my Condo took no more than thirty minutes. It’s late and for a change the roads are oddly empty for a Friday night. “So…” she starts and stops to clear her throat before continuing. “What do you do for a living?” Savannah questions, her eyes flittering across the interior of my car, rightfully curious how I can afford a half a million-dollar car.
“I work in construction.”
“You work in construction?” She iterates dubiously, her brows rising slightly. The apparent incredulity in her tone makes me chuckle. I turn to glance at her fleetingly before turning my attention to the road again. “My knowledge of cars is shockingly minimal, but even I know a construction worker doesn’t earn nearly enough to afford a Ferrari.”
“That is a valid point, but did you consider the possibility that it might be a rental?” I reply flippantly and she smiles back at me, her eyes glittering with mirth as they rake over me.
“No, that’s highly unlikely given the way you dress and the expensive watch on your wrist. No, you give off the executive vibe. A director perhaps?”
I smirk and wet my lips, my thumb brushing over her knuckles. “An executive vibe? Is that you politely calling me a snob?”
Savannah’s eyes grow wide, and her jaw goes slack with surprise while she stares at me like an adorable deer caught in headlights. “No,” she hurries to elucidate. “Not at all. I just meant that you have the persona of an executive. Your characteristics and the way you carry yourself it’s easy to envision you in an authoritative role.”
That lovely pink flush that creeps into her cheeks makes my dick throb and ache in my slacks.
I must admit though, I’m impressed, she clearly has good instinctual perception and that’s rare nowadays. And knowing she’s been closely observing me pleases me more than I care to admit. I may just have to make damn certain I give her an unforgettable taste of just how authoritative I can be.
The rest of the journey we conversed about random things. I told her that I started my own company after I graduated from Stanford university using the seed capital my father invested to help me get my company off its feet. Savannah went on to share that she is currently working as an apprentice for Glitz and Glam events hoping to get enough experience in event organising to eventually start her own company.
She’s not only intuitive and beautiful she’s also highly ambitious. The passion and excitement that exudes from her when she’s talking about planning events is truly admirable. I’m very familiar with Glitz and Glam, we’ve used their services in the past, most recently being the charity black tie gala a year ago. Susan Saunders is the director of the company; our fathers used to golf together.
The conversation flows effortlessly between us, no awkward silences and while I listen to her it’s slowly dawning on me that I’ve not spent this long talking to a woman—and enjoying it in a very long time.
The last sexual encounter I had was six monthsago in Paris when I was away for a conference.