Chapter 48

My evening with Gloria awakened something in me that had been hibernating. Kat, who over the years had always been perceptive about things like this that dwelled inside me, noticed it immediately. Before I had even finished recounting the evening to the girls, she spoke up.

“That made you feel so alive,” Kat said. “I wish we could have watched. It sounds so sexy. You need to do it more.”

I made a movement toward demurring.

“No,” Kat said. “You’ve repressed this side of you. You’re so devoted to us. But this is a part of you. If you don’t exercise it, it’ll consume you. It’ll consume us. I know you, daddy.”

“And it’s so sexy to see you be such an animal,” Rita said.

“I’m so wet just thinking about the way you humiliated that guy,” Jess added.

“Plus you have two perfect candidates,” Kat said.

“Who are you thinking?” I asked.

“Come on, daddy,” Kat teased me. “Bianka and Julie are at your fingertips. I see the way they look at you, especially Bianka.”

“Crystal has told her how you wrecked her marriage,” Jess said. It wasn’t a tone of judgment. It was of admiration. “She is a lot naughtier than you would think.”

“We’ve talked about it, baby,” Rita said. “It’s time to let dirty daddy out to play some more.”

“Isn’t this kind of risky?” Bianka asked before she lowered her head to the first line that she had cut from a pile or powder she dumped from a vile onto the dashboard of the G-wagon.

“That’s the housewife in you talking,” I said with a laugh as she voraciously inhaled two neatly assembled rails of cocaine.

“You just know I’ve become such a slut for coke,” she said, rubbing her nose and smiling at me. Her face had the perfect complexion, youthful and smooth. Her eyes shimmered.

“I was thinking you had crossed more into coke whore territory,” I said, locking eyes on her.

“Don’t be rude,” she said, running a wetted finger across the dash to collect any excess to rub on her gums.

I put a hand on her thigh. Her soft skin reminded me of Nicole, who had been so busy shuttling back and forth to Vegas making arrangements for the new Hooker House.

“You wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t rude,” I said.

“I wouldn’t be here if my husband hadn’t made a lunch reservation,” Bianka said. She liked verbal sparring, which is something I enjoyed about her very much.

“You’re a cock-hungry little bitch, and that’s why you’re here,” I said gruffly, licking and kissing her neck.

“You just know how to sweet-talk a girl, John,” she teased back.

I jammed a finger into her cunt, and she gasped. It was soaking wet, tight, and finally had no hint of stubble. Bianka was learning.

“Seems pretty sweet to me,” I said, pulling my finger out and licking her juices off it.

“This is so risky,” she said.

“Never done it in a car before?” I asked. “The windows are tinted pretty dark.”

“Never in a car,” Bianka said.

The look on her face was genuinely nervous. She was so eager to be good at this. I wasn’t sure yet if it was the thrill of being bad for the first time in her life or if it was truly a part of her personality deep down that finally was being unleashed, but Bianka had an innate confidence even when I pushed her past her comfort zone.

“Just get in the back seat, and let me do the work,” I said.

Bianka climbed over the center console with surprising agility. In the few seconds it took her to sink into the back seat, any trace of nerves was gone from her face. She pulled her sun dress up over her hips, and she showed off how beautifully waxed her pussy was.

“Crystal sent me to her girl at Pretty Kitty,” she said. “How does it look?”

“I already felt it,” I said. I knew I wasn’t going to climb over the center console. I’d go through the doors. “And it’s luscious. I want to eat that pretty little pussy sometime.”

“Oh gosh,” Bianka said, after I joined her in the back, “I haven’t had a guy go down on me in years.”

“Wait, really?” I said, sidling up next to her.

“Yeah,” she admitted.

“Not even a client yet?” I asked.

“I’ve only seen three of them,” she said. “They wanted blow jobs and fucking.”

Bianka was playing with her pussy, which was slick with her juices. She got incredibly wet, and it was obvious she was very comfortable masturbating. It was mesmerizing to watch. She knew her pleasure points.

“I like watching you touch yourself,” I said.

“I play with myself all the time,” she said. “After I’ve been with clients? I go home and just make myself cum over and over and over.”

“That’s really sexy,” I said. “You know just how to touch yourself.”

“Well, I should hope so, right?” Bianka said. She threw her head back as she hit a particularly pleasing flick on her clit. “Fuck, I just want to cum nonstop. All I think about are the things I wish these men would do to me but haven’t.”

I went along with her. I couldn’t help but admire how beautiful her butterfly pussy lips were, how her wetness flowed.

“Like what?” I asked.

“Like the things Crystal does at those parties with the football players,” she said, gasping now.

“She’s pretty popular at those,” I said nonchalantly and reached over and pinched and twisted one of her nipples underneath her dress.

“Oh shit!” Bianka cried, but she frigged herself harder. “I want what she gets.”

“And what does Crystal get?” I said, not stopping my manipulation of her nipples.

“The uncertainty,” Bianka said. She was really squirming now. “You walk into a room with so many sexy guys, and you don’t know how many you might fuck or what they’ll make you do. I feel like I have all these fantasies that are untapped.”

I pulled Bianka’s fingers from her cunt and shoved them in my mouth, licking them clean of her sweet, clear juices. Then I pinned her hands above her head and pushed her back against the supple, Nappa leather seats. She looked at me with a grin that was unlike anything I had seen from Bianka before. She flashed her perfectly straight, white teeth, which contrasted beautifully with her tan skin and subtle, mellow red lipstick.

Then her phone pinged. It was loud and startled us out of what was becoming a deeply intimate moment.

“Shit,” Bianka said. I let her sit up and fish her phone out of her purse in the front seat. “My husband is five minutes early.”

The smile had drained from her face, and I saw vulnerability in her. She was really beautiful. Her jaw line was perfectly defined, and her nose flared out at the nostrils but she always looked cute as a button. Her tongue moistened her lips slightly. I looked at her expectantly.

“You better be quick,” she said.

“You can go if you want,” I said, pushing my hands underneath Bianka’s dress and cupping her ass. I didn’t want her to say yes.

“The whole point of this is having lunch with my husband today is to have your cum in me,” she said, desperately grinding her wet cunt into me. “Are you going to make me another one of your dirty sluts, or are you going to let me just be another boring suburban housewife having a shitty lunch with her limp dick husband?”

I wondered briefly just how much Crystal had talked to Bianka. She was either a natural at this or had been coached perfectly. I pushed her against the back seat again, clawing at her dress. I felt like a teenager on prom night but regained my composure and took charge.

Bianka put one of her legs up high, around the rear seat headrest. It splayed her lips open, inviting me to penetrate the sopping wet interior between her thighs. I hesitated the slightest bit, rubbing my tip against her opening, before driving into her beautifully tight cunt.

“God, fuck, I forgot how big you are,” she gasped.

“Say it,” I ordered.

“You’re so much bigger than my husband,” she panted.

I never got tired of hearing that. Especially not from a girl as supple and tight as Bianka. She ran her hand through my hair as I pumped in and out of her, and our mouths met urgently.

“You were born to be a dirty slut,” I whispered to her.

“I want to learn to be used,” she said. “I need you to teach me, John.”

Her pussy sloshed as I fucked her, getting wetter with each stroke. I could see something in her eyes. She wanted to say something.

“Say it,” I said, which took her off-guard.

“I,” she stammered between moans, “I ... I want to be at the football parties.”

“Why?” I asked. She would be more committed to it if she had to tell the truth herself, rather than me coax it out of her.

“I want a bunch of men to be able to pick me,” she said. “I want to fuck more than one guy in a day, maybe even at a time. I want to be passed around and used. I just want them to treat me like an object.”

My cock flexed inside her, and she gasped again.

“I want the money,” she said in a long moan.

“You’re a natural born whore,” I growled and then grunted as my cum shot inside her.

Bianka kissed me with quick urgency as I came in her pussy. She had a grateful look in her soft brown eyes.

“I love that feeling,” she said.

I had sat up and pulled my cock out of her, dripping with her juices and mixed with my milky sperm. She leaned forward and cleaned it off.

“Crystal said good girls always clean up,” she said with a smile, as she hooked a ringlet of her silky brown hair behind her hair as her tongue flicked across my tip.

“Crystal knows what she’s talking about,” I said with a chuckle.

“Now where are my panties?” Bianka asked, looking around as I tucked my cock back into my shorts.

“No panties, sweetie,” I said mischievously.

“You’re joking,” she said with a sincere laugh.

“No panties,” I repeated.

“I’ll make such a mess!” Bianka exclaimed.

“And while you sit and eat your chicken Caesar salad,” I said, my eyes locked on hers, “you are going to feel this river of my cum leaking out of your pretty little pussy. You’re not going to be listening to whatever bullshit your husband is talking about. You’re going to focus on my cum and think about how greedy your sweet little hole is for more cock.”

Bianka just stared at me. Her eyes were glassy with desire and cocaine. There was only one little button left to push.

“Oh, and you can also think about how close you were to cumming,” I said. “And how I didn’t let you. I want you to focus on how that makes your pussy feel. Then after lunch? Tell me. Maybe I’ll let you know where I am so you can come and let me finish the job.”

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

“You are such a tease,” she said, and she opened the car door.

Before she could exit, I grabbed her left hand and pulled her to me. My fingers ran over her wedding and engagement rings.

“Let me know,” I said. “I might have some more education for you.”

Bianka flashed her perfectly white, straight smile and smoothed out her dress as she walked away. She glanced back at me twice. That’s why it didn’t surprise me when, an hour later, my phone lit up with a text message from her.