"I wonder why you're not talking to me..."
The man lifted his head up when he heard my voice, giving me an icy glare.
"Excuse me?"
"You're not talking to me. Why?" I walked my fingers along the hand that wasn't gripping his glass of vodka, "You're making me awfully lonely," I cooed, "Your drink gets more attention than I do."
Clicking his tongue, he snapped, "And who are you, exactly? You're coming on pretty strong to a stranger. Don't tell me you think I'm some boyfriend of yours, cause I'm not."
"Oh, I know! But, it wouldn't hurt if you were. You are pretty cute, and I wanna snatch you up before anyone else does."
Hannah told me her husband drinks at The Black Hole on Fridays, and I was lucky to find him that night I went in. She had vented about how distant he was, and it was getting worse with his income starting to plummet. Hannah had no faith in her husband whatsoever, but I did. Anybody who can build a business from the ground up will surely find a way to dig himself out of a financial loss.
I know far too well the struggles of maintaining a business; my nail salon was near shutdown before Hannah became a regular. One day, she snuck me a check that carried such an unbelievable amount of money, that it was more than enough to save my salon.
Nowadays, her generous deposits have been less frequent.
"He told me I never had to worry about money again, but then here comes this shit and now he wants me to start working," Hannah complained earlier that Friday, "What does he expect me to do? Go back to my teaching job? Fuck that, kids these days are fucking monsters."
Hannah reached into her wallet to pull out a white envelope filled with cash. Without smudging her newly polished nails, she pushed the envelope over the front counter.
With a smug look, she said, "You're welcome."
I'm always thankful for extra money, but the way she flaunted her wealth made me believe she saw me more as a charity case and not a dear friend like I had viewed her these past few years. My nail salon was near her home, a simple five-minute drive, so she may have thought it best to help me out just because it would be more convenient for her rather than out of the kindness of her heart.
"Oh that's okay!" I released a light chuckle, "You really should keep it for yourself."
Hannah sneered, "Don't you start. I'm doing you a big favor squeezing out what little I have left. Just take it and my husband on top of that. I don't even want to see his face."
"Oh come on now!"
"I'm serious!" Hannah said, "He may be a stallion in bed, but he sure as hell doesn't translate that into his work, and after all I've done for him."
I'm sure Hannah was only venting her frustrations in the air rather than really telling me to go into the bar to seduce her husband, but a woman was free that night and I had nobody back at home.
It took a bit of coaxing to get the self-made mogul out of his shell, but when he came to, our talks became so much fun. "Oh, you wanna snatch me up, huh," he smirked, "and how are you gonna do that?"
My hand covered his affectionately.
"By giving you a distraction, if you'd let me," I batted my eyelashes, "Elizabeth."
He smiled.
"Gio"
I brought him home for a quick fuck.
He was plastered, his eyes could barely focus on me doing my work on top of him. He just laid on that bed silently enjoying the ride. It didn't take much to get me going nowadays. My ex-husband has long since left the home to fool around God knows where, and my daughter was off on her own adventures at university. That just left me and the salon, and despite what Cosmopolitan may say, a functioning shower head isn't a good replacement for a man.
I needed what Gio had: his thick cock stretching me out. His uncut head pressing up against my womb, threatening to put a baby inside of me. Could you imagine our child? With our genetics, that kid would be the most handsome fella on the planet.
"Oh, I'm gonna cum!" leaning back, I laid my hands on his thighs and swirled my hips, "You like it, baby? Like that? Mmmh, you're so good to me..."
Hannah and I had a similar body type: tall, slender women with B-sized breasts. Well, I have B cups. She might go larger soon with her talk about using the last of her savings on something nice. I can see her doing that, but will her husband adore her anymore if she gets implants? I had hoped not. I wanted him to only look at me: the platinum blonde vixen who scooped him away from all the drama in his life in exchange for love and affection.
Feeling the rise of my orgasm coming to an end, I grinded on his cock faster, like I was an inexperienced high schooler all over again.
"Oh yes! Here it comes. All for you, baby. Yes, yes, yes! Yeesss...."
My orgasm hit first, clenching onto his dick. His face barely cracked when he reached his climax soon after, but there was so much. His cum poured inside of my pussy like he had been holding back for months, and I happily took it all in. I leaned forward to kiss his pec.
"You were fantastic. I'm so happy..."
What was I supposed to do after this night? I knew Hannah well; she wasn't in the mood to satisfy him anytime soon and getting him to come back to my place that night was the hardest thing ever. His body is way larger than mine and I had to pretend he was my husband just to get in a taxi without weird stares. I couldn't send him back, not when I knew what was expected for him back home. I figured a few days with me wouldn't be so bad.
"More...I need more," I pleaded with him to understand that this is not something that should go to waste. We fit perfectly together, and we deserved this luxury.
Our fun lasted for exactly 32 days until the cops got word of our little party. I tried to hide him away for as long as possible, but if I'm being honest with myself, I didn't know what the hell I was doing. Things spiraled out of control, and I thought that if I got more people involved that they'd be less likely to tell on me. That was a mistake.
My lover had an array of women to choose from and it's unlikely that I was his favorite out of the bunch. I always did that to myself, sabotaging a good thing. An extra woman won't improve the relationship, but as long as he was happy, then I'm happy.
A couple of weeks after my arrest, a knock was delivered to my door.
"Already?" I said, placing my remote on the table. I stood up from the couch with a smile on my face, and upon opening the door my heart skipped a beat.
There he was. Standing there in black slacks and a white button up tee that had fabric so thin I could still see his abdomen poking through. He shaved since our last meeting, which was a shame. I was a fan of the beard.
"G-Gio..." I stammered.
My legs pressed together as I felt myself getting wet in his presence. My hand broke out in a sweat as it clutched the doorknob. I suppose my bottom lip was quivering too because Gio leaned forward and brushed my lips tenderly with his thumb, as if he was trying to soothe my nerves.
"May I come in?" he spoke.
I reached for Gio's face and pulled him inward, landing a kiss on his lips. He wasn't the least bit surprised; he gave into my advances and guided me further into my home, shutting the door behind us.
