Chapter 9 Phoenix
Phoenix
Ididn’t bother to go anywhere for an hour. Not out here in the middle of nowhere. It would’ve taken me most of it driving anywhere and back. I sat in my SUV waiting for Mercy to get done with work.
I eventually see her walking up in my rearview. Remembering my manners, I hop out, make my way around to the passenger door, and open it.
I look her up and down as she approaches, like the pig I am, and I notice she changed.
The micro skirt is gone, replaced by a pair of black leggings looking tight enough to be her skin.
So much so my gaze is quickly drawn to the fabric suffocating the outline of her petite pussy and strangling the curves of her hips.
Her shirt still resembles a foggy window, and she’s still wearing high-heeled boots, fishnets, and pigtails.
Holy fuck, is she hot. Why am I like this?
I have no interest in her beyond anything carnal. I’m here to do a damn job.
“Hey there, Coffee Daddy. Thanks for waiting for me,” she chirps with a cute little grin as she climbs in.
“What sounds good?” I inquire rhetorically while pulling out of the parking lot.
“I was thinking—” she stops to turn herself toward me, “—there’s a movie I’d love to see. It’s got a crazy clown guy in it. And I’m a total slut for clowns. Roni thinks I’m obsessed, but I like to think of it as passionate.” Her high-pitched giggle is both cute and terrifying. “Wanna take me?”
I don’t believe a word of it. Nothing about us, here, tonight, involves a fucking movie.
I cannot care less about whatever story she’s weaving.
Between pushing for a secret night out, the way she looks at me, and the energy she’s giving now she’s next to me, I’m certain she only has one thing in mind.
But whatever. I’ll play along, at least until the moment’s right.
It takes us nearly an hour to get to the theater, because of course it does.
Traffic was a bitch once we got within a few miles.
But we’re here now. The movie has been out forever, and once inside, there’s hardly anyone else here.
Two teens sitting in the second row. Somehow, I know this is what she expected.
As the lights go down for the previews to start, I take a sip of my soda, grab a handful of popcorn, and glance over at Mercy to see if she’s still pretending this is what she wants. But she’s not pretending. Not anymore. Instead, she’s on her knees between my legs, undoing my belt.
“Hey, hey, hey,” I feign objection, trying to slow her down. I cup her chin and force her to look me in the eyes. “What are you doing?” I ask, more reflex than anything. Honestly, I want her to keep going, though something in my chest nags at me to stop her.
“I want to make you happy, Coffee Daddy,” she whispers, and I feel myself getting hard. “And we made a deal I’d get what I want. Remember?”
“Let me rephrase,” I patronize her. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” I press, transfixed by the innocence in her face.
“Of course,” she says. “But I understand if you’re too shy.”
“I’m not—” I can’t believe I’m on the verge of having this fucking argument.
“I’m just kidding. But don’t let my age fool you.”
I freeze. She’s twenty-one, but she boasts as if she has a lifetime of experience.
My face must give me away, because she’s quick to react.
“Oh, it’s not like that,” she retorts with a grin. “I make most of my money online, doing things on camera for guys to see. I’m no stranger to a—” she glances at my crotch, and I feel a warmth creep up my neck. She sounds so nonchalant, and it causes me to panic.
I run through every escape option in my head.
But in the moment of distraction, she unbuckles my belt, unbuttons my pants, tugs down my zipper, and—oh my fucking fuck.
Her hands are wrapped around my stiffening cock.
It has been so long since anyone touched me there unless I paid for it.
I feel like such a piece of shit. But it feels so fucking good, and I don’t want her to stop.
She licks the tip of my cock, stroking my growing length until I’m rock hard.
Fire rolls through my skin. She strokes me more and licks me all the way down to the base, then back up, before parting her lips and sliding the head in just a little.
Her tongue swirls around the tip as she strokes me still.
And then… POP! She pulls away. Stroking me a little harder, she looks up at my face. “Oh, I think the Coffee Daddy likes that.” She chuckles again.
My head flips back and I groan, “Fuuuck,” not caring if the two people in front heard me. If they say anything, I’ll have them killed. “How are you so good at that?” The question slips out, though I’d love to know.
“The guys who tip me love to tell me what to do,” she explains while licking her lips. “And I’m an obedient little slut.”
She dives back in, taking me deep. Warm and wet and oh my god, I fucking love it. The more she presses down, the less I’m able to think. She cups my balls and massages them as she gags hard on my cock, while I grip her red pigtails, yanking her face down until her lips meet my hip.
I can't believe this is happening. The sound of her gagging echoes in the empty theater, and I'm torn between pushing her away and pulling her deeper. My rational mind screams this is wrong. I should stop, but my body betrays me completely.
She pulls back, gasping for air, strings of saliva connecting her lips to my cock. Those innocent eyes look up at me, mascara slightly smudged, and she grins like she's accomplished something magnificent.
“Do you like when I’m a slut for you, Coffee Daddy?” she whispers, her voice hoarse.
I can't form words. I just nod, my breathing ragged. She takes this as encouragement and goes back to work, bobbing her head with renewed enthusiasm. Her technique is surprisingly skilled for someone claiming this is their first real experience.
The movie continues playing above us. Some action sequence with explosions and gunfire perfectly masks the wet sounds.
Fuck, it’s amazing. I’m such an asshole—using her like a fuck toy.
Especially since she reminds me of Sam when we met, making it more reprehensible.
Her mouth is faultless. She chokes and gags, with more saliva and snot bubbling around her lips as she uses her throat to fuck my cock.
Her makeup smears with her strangled tears, and still, she doesn’t fight me at all.
I pull her head up and she gasps as her lungs take in air, a slutty, evil little smile on her tear-streaked face. “I fucking knew you’d wreck my throat.” Her voice is rasped, like her cords have been scratched raw. “But now I want you to come for me, Coffee Daddy. Come right down my throat.”
She doesn’t wait for permission. Before I can speak, she slams her head back onto my cock, pushing herself as far as possible. Suffocating herself with my length buried in her gullet, she bounces ever so slightly, and I’m done for.
She pulls up just enough to stroke the base, then hammers herself back down, until curdling sounds gurgle over me, and the next wave of tears uncontrollably stream from her eyes.
I fly over the edge, exploding like a volcano erupting down her esophagus. The world goes black and then white before my eyes.
A few seconds later, I come to. She’s licking droplets of come from my cock and her hands, scooping it from her chin and cheeks, pressing it back into her mouth and swallowing it down.
“Mmm,” she hums. “Now that I’ve had my appetizer, what do you say we get dinner?”
We don’t finish the movie. There’s no point. I don’t even know what it was about. I don’t care. Best movie I’ve ever seen.
“You're fucking insane,” I whisper in her ear as we walk, my arm still draped over her shoulder possessively. My fingers dig into her flesh a little too hard, but she doesn't complain.
“Don’t even act like you didn’t love it,” she snips back, pressing her body against mine. Her hand slides into my back pocket, squeezing my ass.
The parking garage is dimly lit, with concrete pillars creating shadows perfect for hiding sins. I press the key fob, and my SUV's lights flash in the distance.
“Where do you want to eat?” I ask, trying to sound normal, like I didn’t just skull-fuck Roni’s supposed friend in a movie theater.
She looks up at me through mascara-smudged lashes. “I know a place about twenty minutes from here. It's quiet. Private.”
“Sounds great.” I continue the deception as we reach the rear of my vehicle.
I pop open the rear hatch. She teases me, leaning her chest inside the cargo area, tugging her mostly translucent shirt up to show me her barely covered ass pressed against the stretched fabric of her leggings.
Turning her head back to look at me, she sees my eyes darken with temptation.
“If that’s what you want, Coffee Daddy,” she taunts. “I know you’re older, but if you’ve still got some gas left in the tank, this would be a great place for round two. I think a second stuffing before dinner sounds decadent.”
She’s clever. And younger me would have spent the next week ruining her. But I’ve got shit to do, and her luck has just run out. I slip my hand behind her, rubbing her ass and between her legs. I lean in by her ear. “Close your eyes for me,” I order.
“Ooh, mmhmm,” she hums, thrilled, quickly obeying.
The moment she does, I pull a taser from the storage hatch above the spare tire and tag her in the side of the neck.
Electricity jolts through her body and she goes limp.
I catch her by the arms, then scan the area, checking to make sure nobody’s lurking, before rolling her into the back.
Next, I grab a syringe I keep next to the taser for exactly such an occasion, and give her a small injection. Then, I pull out my phone and send a message.
Phoenix: Package on the way.
“No, let me go!” I hear somewhere behind me and flinch reflexively, worried I’ve been discovered.
I turn to see who is shouting but find nobody nearby.
I close the rear hatch, then hear another “Let me go!” from a few feet away.
I walk toward the voice, and that’s when I see her.
It’s Roni. And someone has their hands on her.