Page 34 of Tap Left
“What do you mean a visitor?” she asks.
“You know, a special auntie…”
“Daire!” Her face morphs from euphoria to horror. “No, we are not talking about that. There are boundaries.”
“Fuck boundaries.” I tug her against me and feel her up.
“Daire.” Another faint attempt at protest.
I squeeze her ass and rub my hard-on against her belly. Her eyes fall shut, and she allows the molestation to continue for as long as I want, but it’s never long enough. She’s warm and soft and so small, and today she’s wearing a baby pink dress that makes me want to drag her up into her apartment and fuck her over every surface. But that isn't what I have planned. At least, not yet.
I disengage and adjust my dick, so it isn’t saluting all of Chicago when we step outside. “C’mon poppet. We’ve got somewhere else to be.”
Cane in one hand, I reach for her with the other, which she takes freely. We walk outside, and Lola makes a beeline toward the entrance of her apartment.
“Where do you think you’re going, you greedy little fiend?”
She blinks at me. “I thought we were going to”
“Fuck,” I supply, since she can’t seem to say it herself. “You thought we were going to fuck. But no, LB. As much as I delight in the carnal pleasures of your body, today the real treat is waiting for you at the curb.”
She swivels her head and gasps when she sees it. A candy apple red 1955 Chevrolet Bel Air. "Is that—?"
I spin the keys around my finger like I’m Danny Zuko. Ideally, I’d like to toy with her more, but we’re already late, so I open her door. She squeaks when she’s inside and secures her seatbelt like that might stop me from removing her should I so choose.
"Where are we going?" she asks as soon as I’m in the driver’s seat.
"Patience, LB."
I take on the road, and Lola obsesses over the car. She touches everything, fawning over the knobs and buttons and worn white leather. I can only hope she’ll show the same level of excitement and dedication to my dick later on.
I reach for her hand across the seat, and she gives it to me reluctantly.
“So you can drive,” she blurts.
“I’m not a cripple,” I reply icily.
“I know.” Her cheeks turn a nice shade of pink and all I can think about is her ass doing the same when I spank her. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just, I never see you drive.”
“Well, I can.”
Heated silence settles over us, and this was not how today was supposed to go. Lola sighs and stares out the window, and I need to salvage this now.
"How goes the dating life?"
Her hand goes rigid in mine, and she shrugs. "Nothing to write home about.”
"Damon hasn't swept you off of your feet yet with his words?"
"No, I think Damon's out."
Thank fuck.
"Talking to anyone else?" I hedge.
Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and she shakes her head. Little liar. Again, this is not the point of today. I don’t want to be an asshole, but how can I not when she continues to poke me with a stick.
"You do know that your pussy is exclusive to me until we call quits. The same goes for your other orifices."
