“Nope. He wants me.”
“Hmm.”
She laughs, her pussy clenching around me. “You’re jealous, boyfriend.”
I’m not jealous and certainly not her boyfriend, though I bet she wishes I were. Sometimes she exhausts me with her childish nonsense. But I suppose that’s the whole point of a toy—to wear a person out so that they don’t obsess over the more difficult aspects of their life.
She wears me out all right. It’s a good thing she entertains me and gives good head.
“His dick is probably hard,” she taunts.
“You’re changing the game,” I warn. “I guess you don’t want your fifty grand.”
“I want it. You’re the one who changed the game. We were supposed to do this and not draw attention to ourselves, and now you want me to make eye contact with hot guys.”
“Stop calling them hot.” My toy likes when I play along.
“Told you you were jealous.”
“Fine. Make googly eyes with your little not-gay boyfriend over there. But do you remember the other part of the deal?”
“Where you say sweet things to me and we cuddle?”
“Before that.”
I’m a spoiled boy who likes things my way too.
“You’re an asshole who wants to say cruel things.”
“That’s it. Can you handle it?”
“For fifty grand, I can handle anything.”
I lazily rub at her clit as I inhale her hair that she pulled out of her ponytail earlier and straightened before dinner. “Your father would be mortified if he knew his precious little princess was getting fucked in a bar with everyone watching. Do you think your real daddy would call you a whore?” I nip at her ear. “That’s what you are, Cinderelliott. A high-paid prostitute. You fuck me because you’re so damn desperate to go to college. Nothing but a charity case. Poor little girl who tries desperately to play wicked games with a man twice her age. What is it your stepmother said? That’s it . . . you disgust her.”
She squirms and huffs, clearly hating my words, but a deal’s a deal. Since she’s not pulling the plug on our negotiation and forfeiting the money, I continue.
“Do your brothers take turns fucking you? Do you take all three of them at once? I bet that’s why they’re so fucking jealous. They’ve had a taste of your sweet pussy and want it all for themselves. But you’re only hungry for one dick, hmm?”
“Just yours,” she croaks out.
“I should pass you around to my colleagues and brothers. If the price is right, I think you’d do anything. Money is the magical trick that has you spreading your legs. Am I right?”
“No. I only want you.”
I reward her with another pinch to her clit, twisting it almost painfully for her. Her cunt squeezes my dick to the point I’m sweating with the need to come.
“I bet you’d let Keaton fuck you while our little sister watched. Is that what you want? My little brother to be inside you?”
“No, asshole,” she breathes. “Just you.”
This delusional girl wants things I can’t give her.
Exclusivity. My undivided attention. A romantic relationship that leads to a wedding and babies.
Even though she knows we play games, I believe she often forgets the most important fact: None of it is real. None of it will ever be real. At least not with me.
“What about Perry? He’d probably give you all the sweet words in the world. Probably treat you like the princess you wish you were. But you’re just a fraud. A worthless maid who wears pretty dresses bought by a rich man and fucks on his command.”
“I hate you.”
“You don’t, because your pussy is so fucking wet, Cinderelliott. The juices running from your body feel a lot like a little girl in love with someone who can’t love her back.”
The hot suited guy is no longer trying to carry on a conversation with the person across from him. His attention is zeroed in under the table which means he can see what we’re up to from his position.
“Twenty more if you let me show him what’s mine.” I kiss the side of her neck. “Hmm?”
“I’m not going to stop you from making me richer,” she murmurs. “Do it.”
I slip my hand from her clit to grip her dress and lift it. The guy’s eyes bug out of his head, and he licks his lips. He says something to the guy across from him, but his attention never leaves my girl’s pretty cunt. I let his peep show end by dropping her dress back down and finding her clit once more beneath the material. The guy calls a bartender over, writes something down, and hands it to him. A few seconds later, the bartender stops at our table.
“The fella over there would like to buy the lady a drink,” the bartender says. “And to pass this on to her.”
“He can’t afford what she likes,” I tell him. “Run along.”