Page 63 of The Cowboy's Cabaret

“I had some tricks up my sleeve. Plus, the CEO of Second Chance Sanctuary needs an office and a nice desk. This way your sexy assistant can come visit you at work for a midday snack.” I wink.

“My assistant? I think I like the sound of that. You know, I think I might need help from my assistant now actually.” She pins me with a heated glare as she backs up to plant her sinful ass on her new desk.

I drop to my knees like the devotee I am and she crosses her thick thighs. Confusion marks my features as I want to tear her panties off and devour her right here.

“Take your cock out,” she demands. I try to stand up, but she places her foot against my shoulder and pushes me gently back down. “No, baby, right there. Fuck your hand for me, let me watch.” Holy hell. I move with impressive speed, yanking my boxers down as I fist my leaking dick.

“You are so hot, this is killing me. Look at you, sitting there like the queen you are.” She gives a feline grin before pulling the top of her dress down, leaving her juicy tits on display in the confines of the red lacy bra she’s wearing. “Ffffuck.”

Dahlia delicately drags her finger tips over the fleshy tops of her breasts before she sticks her tongue out, letting a string of saliva drip down onto her chest. I buck into my hand, so hard it’s almost painful. “Look at you, Lover Boy.”

“Your body, goddamn.” I moan as I stroke my cock, trying to slow down to save my impending orgasm. Dahlia leans over me and pinches my cheeks together forcing my mouth open, her touch lighting me on fire.

She opens her mouth again before she spits into my open mouth and I’m about to melt into a puddle on the floor, Jesus fucking Christ. “Don’t come yet, baby, can you do that?” I’m nodding furiously as she motions for me to stand. My hand moves to my cock again without realizing and Dahlia notices. “Someone’s horny.” She turns around and bends over the desk, ass in the air, wet pussy on display like perfection.

I can’t help myself as I lick and suck at her pussy before moving up to her perfect little asshole, swirling my tongue around as she shakes with pleasure. “I’m gonna fuck this ass, Princess. Soon,” I promise.

Standing to my full height I fill her in a punishing thrust. She works to push off the desk, but I remember what I was supposed to show her left behind on the desk. Fisting her hair, I cover her body with mine and push her face into the desk. “You cock tease…You distracted me from your last surprise. Figured it’s been too long without you taking my fat cock, you’re desperate for it. Do you know what I’m fucking you on, Dahlia? Do you see?”

She tries to look at what her face is pushed up against. When she can’t make out what it is, I pull her up by the shoulders, still fucking into her as she pushes back against me.

The sounds of skin slapping and her moans fill the room and I grab the paper I left for her to find on the desk. She shakes her head, almost to clear her vision before she takes it all in. Thepicture is a rough sketch of a sign for Second Chance—it’s drawn to look like the old school hand lettering signs.

“You did this. This is your vision we’re bringing to life. You’re giving this place a second chance, giving me sanctuary in your heart baby. Your beautiful brain, your fucking kind heart, I don’t deserve you. I’ll do anything to make every dream of yours come true, you are my everything, Dahlia.” She turns her head to kiss me, frantic and needy, moaning into my mouth.

I pull her away from the desk and find her clit, rubbing fast with two fingers as the sounds of her arousal are the soundtrack of this moment. She grips my wrist as she comes, squeezing me so tightly I can’t help but follow over the edge after her.

The peace I feel in this moment is the peace of having found your other half and knowing you’ll never let them go, you’d do anything to make them happy, love them forever. We stand there half-dressed, sweaty from fucking, but it’s still a perfect moment.

I pull out of her and bend her over again. “Mmm, that’s a pretty sight right there. You take my cum so well. You know exactly where it belongs.” I bite her ass. “One day, you’ll let me fill you up to give you a baby too, won’t you? Let me fuck you pregnant.” It’s not something we’ve talked about in depth, but we agreed we want kids someday and I can’t lie—the idea of breeding her is fucking hot.

“I want that. I want that so bad.” She reaches back and spreads herself more and I take two fingers, pushing my cum back inside her.

“Good girl, Dahlia. I hope you remember this moment every time you sit down at this desk to work. Remember you’re my cockslut and the love of my life.”

FORTY-NINE

deadbeat dad no more

Dahlia

The day is finally here,the day of the first meeting with Mental Health Marvels. I’m fucking terrified, but trying to hold it together. Wes drags a soothing path with his thumb, back and forth across my clenched hands. His closeness grounds me, but I’m still worried I’ll mess this all up.

We spoke with everyone else and they ultimately decided Wes and I should do the first meeting to get on solid ground. While I agreed, this feels like a lot more attention on me, more potential for me to mess up.

With about thirty minutes to go, we’re sitting in the office space at Wes’ cabin. A seemingly still moment, but inside my mind rages like the storm of all storms. I pull away from Wes, retreating into the paralyzing cold of panic. He leaves and I shudder at the thought he’s had enough of me. As quickly as the thought enters my fucked up brain, Wes returns with an ice pack.

“Can you put this on your chest for me, baby? I read this can help with panic attacks.” His words are kind and a reminder I know these skills. I know how to deal with my anxiety, but whenit gets like this I can’t always remember. Like the mind reader he is, he can sense my line of thinking. “I’m sure you know this, but sometimes it helps to have someone remind us, right?” I nod woodenly, pressing the ice pack to my chest. The sting of cold is uncomfortable, giving me a new sensation to focus on.

The clock ticks closer to the meeting and with every breath I take, the sticky tar of panic recedes a bit more. “Thank you,” I whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“There is no reason to apologize. This is a huge, stressful moment. Even if it’s exciting, you’re allowed to worry. I’m nervous as hell too, but we have each other. Always.”

“I want ice cream after I survive this,” I demand.

“Deal.”

The computer screenglows to life as we join the call. Two people fill the virtual meeting with soft smiles and kind eyes.