Chapter 6
The next evening, I’ve got Cade’s cock in my mouth.
He’s stretched out on the bed completely naked, and I’m positioned between his legs in a slightly awkward position, leaning down so my mouth can get down to his groin.
It’s stretching my back and compressing my belly, but I don’t really care. I’m moving over him eagerly, sucking and bobbing my head. I initially planned to give him a little treat to get us started, but his enthusiastic responsiveness is getting me going.
He’s moaning and arching and giving little thrusts of his hips up into my mouth, and he’s got my head in both hands to guide my motion as if he simply can’t help it.
Don’t ask me why it thrills me so much. Any other man gets remotely pushy during a fuck, and I’d be using every trick in my repertoire to make him finish as quickly as possible.
But Cade isn’t being aggressive. It’s more like an intimate entitlement.
As if he knows he’s allowed to act like that in bed with me.
It’s really turning me on.
Cade makes sure I come every single time we fuck, but it’s always rubbing my clit at the end.
I don’t care at all. It’s incredibly generous of him to care about my pleasure in this situation.
I’ve had guys expect me to come because they wrongly believe themselves to be such great lovers, so I always fake it with them.
But Cade doesn’t expect anything from me.
He just doesn’t want it to be entirely one-sided.
But tonight I’m getting so into things that my pussy is wet, and it’s clenching around nothing every time I bring his cock deeper into my mouth. It’s not going to take much for me to come. I’m tempted to sneak my hand between my legs and take care of it myself.
Cade enjoys watching me come, however, and he’s too distracted to pay attention right now. So I make a whimpering sound around his cock and try to focus through the building arousal.
“Fuck, you’re doing so good,” Cade mutters, lifting his head so he can see me suck his cock down the length of his body. “You always know how to suck me just right. Look at you taking me so deep.”
I make a wordless sound of affirmation and slant my eyes up toward his face.
“That’s right. That’s my girl.” His big hands are moving my head up and down over his cock. “Take me all the way. Take all of it.”
I hum again, getting excited because he’s about to come. His body is tense. The muscles of his thighs and stomach have clenched.
“Fuck,” he gasps, his spine arching up again. “Fuck, that’s my girl. You’re my girl. You’re my girl.” The words come out as a soft mutter just before he makes the stretched, helpless sound he makes before he comes.
He’s pretty good at the dry orgasms, but he doesn’t manage it this time. He comes in warm, heavy spurts into my mouth and down my throat.
I manage to swallow and keep sucking as his moans turn sated and relaxed. When his cock has softened, I finally let him slip out of my mouth.
I’m breathing raggedly as I sit up and stretch my back.
“Come here to me,” he says, stretching a hand toward me.
I have no idea what he wants, but I crawl up the bed until I’m in better reach of his hands. He bends me forward and slides two fingers into my pussy.
“Fuck, girl, you’re wet as hell.”
“What’s your point?”
He chuckles as he starts to fuck me with his fingers. “You must’ve really liked doing that for me.”
“Mm-hmm.” I’m so aroused that an orgasm is already starting to mount. I stay poised in the position he put me so he can thrust his fingers.
He starts curling them against my G-spot. I bite my lower lip to stifle a cry of pleasure.
“Yeah, you like that, don’t you? Look how hot you are for just my fingers. You gonna come for me like a good girl?”
My response is little more than a whine. I start pumping my hips back against his hand.
“Oh yeah, you want it bad. Your pussy is getting so hot and tight around my fingers. You’re gripping me so good.”
I clutch the bedding and make an embarrassing sobbing sound as I fall into climax. My pussy spasms shamelessly around the penetration, and I’m still pushing my bottom back against his hand.
I’m panting and smiling as the contractions fade into warm satisfaction.
“Now you’re feeling good. That was a real good one.”
“Thank you,” I say, starting to straighten up again. “I mean for doing that for me. I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.”
The truth is I might never have had an orgasm like that. I’ve usually been able to get myself there, but it’s never been particularly earth-shattering.
Not like this.
“Who said it was over?”
I frown down at his soft cock. “Umm…”
“I didn’t mean that. That guy’s definitely out of service for the rest of the night. But my fingers still got some energy. Bend back over. I like to see your little ass while I do you.”
I giggle because how can I not, and I let him use his hand on me again. This time, instead of thrusting, he combines the penetration with rubbing my clit. I come again almost immediately, and the pleasure doesn’t seem to stop.
After the third orgasm, my intimate flesh is overly sensitized, so I straighten up. “That’s about all the earth-shattering orgasms I can handle for one night.”
He likes that. His body shakes with almost silent laughter. He pulls me down so I’m curled at his side under the crook of his arm.
I really like it there.
“How’s Poppy?” he asks after several minutes.
“She’s okay, I think. Nell gave her a week off, so she doesn’t have to work right away.”
“That’s good.”
“She asked me to thank you. For…”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know. She doesn’t have to thank me for anything.”
“Well, she wanted to anyway. It makes her feel better. That he’s not still out in the world somewhere. That he can’t ever do it again.”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat, embarrassed as he always is by any thanks or praise. “Yeah.”
I have the silliest urge to kiss him, but that’s definitely not allowed. Instead, I press my lips against his chest—just over one of his nipples. His chest hair tickles my skin, but it’s not unpleasant.
It’s not unpleasant at all.
He strokes the hair that’s fallen loose from my braid. Then he curls his fingers around the braid itself and runs his hand down the whole length of it. “I guess I better get going.”
There’s the slightest lift at the end, almost making it a question.
A sharp pang slices through my heart. I sigh. “Yeah. It’s late. Nell is going to come pounding on the door soon.”
“All right. That’s me then.” He tries once and then again before he lifts his body to a sitting position. He’s slow as he reaches for his jeans and underwear.
I wish I could offer him another option, but there isn’t one. The only reason the Pub functions as effectively as it does and we can stay somewhat safe doing this is because of all her rules and boundaries.
No customers get to stay the night.
It’s never allowed.
I shouldn’t even want it.
But I kind of do.
After he leaves, I crawl back out onto the roof so I can draw the stars.
The week drags, and Friday drags most of all.
I try not to be grumpy or whiny. I’ve adapted to life here. It’s not great, but it’s better than my other options. But it’s hard when you get a taste of something different but then are thrown back into reality.
I have to fuck two other guys during the week because Nell told me customers don’t like that Cade is completely dominating my weekends. So I either need to only give him one night a weekend or else offer two more fucks during the week.
There’s no sense in arguing. Nell’s word is law around here. And it’s not even unreasonable. Three fucks a week have always been understood as a requirement for servers, and evidently one man can’t regularly claim two of those weekly fucks.
So I take an older man upstairs on Tuesday night.
He can barely get it up, but I do a lot of hand work and he manages about a minute of me riding him.
Then on Thursday I pick a middle-aged man I’ve fucked several times before.
He likes a no-nonsense doggie-style fuck, and he’s neither rough nor particularly obnoxious.
But I still don’t like it. I don’t really want to fuck anyone but Cade.
That’s a real problem for me though. This is my job, and I’m going to need to keep it long after Cade has moved on.
So I give myself a pep talk several times every day, and I’ve already lectured myself four times on Friday because I’m dragging so much.
At least I won’t have to fuck anyone else today. And Cade will be here tomorrow.
“You’ve been kind of droopy this week,” Danny says, glancing over from where he’s cleaning his tables and straightening the chairs around tables in preparation for opening. “What’s going on with you?”
I’ve been doing the same, but at his question I stop, standing straighter with my rag in my hand. “Nothing.”
“You sure? Because ever since I started working here, you’ve always been the most low-maintenance of us all. You do your job and don’t make a fuss and don’t waste energy on silly nonsense. Nell told me I should look at you for a good example.”
“She said that? Really?”
“Yeah. She said you did what you needed to do and never let your emotions get involved, and until now all of that seemed true. But lately…” He gives a dramatic shrug instead of finishing the sentence.
“It’s not that bad. I’ve been doing my job just fine.”
“Sure, but half the time you look like you’d rather be anywhere but here. And guess when are the times you don’t look like that?”
“Danny—”
“I’m just saying. I think he’s a good guy too, and sure, maybe he’s the world’s best fuck, but still… You’ve thought about this, haven’t you?”
“Of course I’ve thought about it.”
“You’re not thinking the two of you are going to run off together and live in fairy-tale land, are you?”
“No! Give me a little credit.”
“Then maybe try to tell that to your heart. I know Nell gets to charge whatever she wants and make the rules and such, but the customers are the ones who use us. They’re the ones who walk out the door afterward. We’re the ones who will still be here after they’re gone.”