Author's Note
This is the 5K+ second chapter of the novella of the same name. A wealthy girl has laid a honeytrap for her clueless working class illegitimate half brother and he has taken the bait. Now she plans a first proper date with him that will begin to wrap him around her little finger, so she can destroy him and render him unable to threaten her legitimate family, whether the boy is aware he is doing so or no. As when they first met, she shocks and awes him with her sex appeal, socio-economic status, and her higher station in life vis-a-vis his. And even though their date starts out like a romantic yet hot and heavy first date, it veers towards a straight F/m tease towards the end. Before ending in a harsh denial and even harsher humiliation. It also causes the boy's first loss in his life. Regardless, he ends up even more infatuated with the "Princess" he is unaware is his half-sister. In effect only pining for more of her, and hence more of the same, next time. If any of these themes are offensive to you please do not read. If none are, I hope you enjoy.
Chapter 2
As soon as Ashley got that text from Richard, her bastard half-brother, her mind started racing. He clearly was all hot and bothered about last Friday, and had taken the bait, just like Ashley wanted him to. So she felt she had to make a quick decision whether to hit him again immediately, when he still had not caught on he was being sexually seared, and thus still had his guard down. Or to let him stew in shock and awe and hopeless longing for a bit. Leading him to build her up to divine proportions in his mind. There would be plenty of time for both in her seduction of him. Her subjugation of him. But knowing which do to when was a bit of a science, and a bit of an art. And probably the most important thing was that he never be able to predict which one was coming next. The searing or the stewing. Right now it was all new to him, so it almost did not really matter. Thought maybe on the balance she thought sear him again is the way to go. Then let him stew. And that way she could have it both ways in the time span of a few hours.
Since it currently was just a little after noon on Sunday, she had a number of hours to play with. She did not know what his Sunday afternoon plans were. But for a boy like him, probably studying. She was confident she could get him to cancel those. Sunday evening she did know he waited at The Trap Setter, a local lobster restaurant. And those obligations he would be reluctant to cancel willingly. But nobody said he would have to cancel those willingly. By then she could have him caught in a sticky, bitter-honey, situation, and make him miss the commitment. So with the outlines of a plan she picked up her phone and typed back.
"Richard, I've been thinking about you since Friday. Get us something to drink and text me your address so I can pick you at 2pm."
And hit send.
Richard was actually shocked she answered so quickly! He was even more shocked she had invited him, nay directed him, to be ready for a date in two hours! And immediately his thoughts went to the exquisite slim blonde princess. With her almond blonde hair and amber eyes, and killer waist, hips, pelvis and thighs. Her seductive and dangerous aura and the intense lust she made him feel from the first instant he saw her. He had not anticipated he would be able to see her again so quickly, but... why not. His heart, and manhood, both came to life with the idea of it. He could always postpone his afternoon plans. So long as he was free by the evening. And he could not possibly imagine she would want to spend more than just a couple of hours with him.
He was less sure about being picked up by a girl, rather than chivalrously doing the picking up himself. But it occurred to him maybe she was going to drive, and he did not have a car to drive in this city. And if she had a car, borrowing or renting a car himself would be dumb. If he started dating a princess it was quickly going to turn uncomfortable he realized. Hence why he should not have texted her in the first place. But this girl had made an impression. And maybe a bit like in a gendered-reverse fairy tale, he wanted to hope that socio-economic differences would not be an issue, and he could get somewhere with her. Where, he did not even know, and he dare not hope. But he felt the desire to get somewhere. So he picked up his phone and replied.
"Yes! Of course! Ready at 2pm! 1719 Boylston St."
"A couple of blocks south of the ballpark?"
"Yes."
"I know where it is. Be ready."
And Richard's heart started beating like it wanted to escape from his body.
Ashley wanted to make another strong impression. So she immediately went to her closet to plan her arms and armor of seduction. Boys, and men in general, were most of the times strongly visual creatures. Even if they were not out and out fetishists, and many certainly were, to most, what you wore mattered. And in her one interaction with Richard, she did not doubt that what she had worn to that bar had mattered. So she would play to those strengths again. She decided today called for a dress. Make him feel he was truly in a romantic date. Even a white dress, to make him feel this was all love and innocence. At first at least. So she knew which one to pick. A little white dress she had, certainly short skirted but balanced out by being long sleeved, that was tight enough to flatter her body, but loose enough to not look like she was trying waaaay too hard to get banged. With that she chose a pair of camel suede low boots, vaguely Western but not too much, that dressed the dress down a little bit relative to, say, strappy sandals. And she did her hair half-up half-down in a way that looked like she may have spent half an hour at a salon, but really only took her five minutes by herself. Some rose tones on her face, certainly very alluring, but also very different than the smoky blacks and greys on the eyes and the shiny "blowjob" gloss on the lips she had used for the bar, and she was done.
Richard more or less paid as much attention to his getup as Ashley did. But he had much less expertise in the matter and much less to chose from. He did re-shave. And put on a button shirt, and smarter jeans and shoes than he had on up till now. And with that went to attend to the matter of buying a six pack of beer. When he crossed his soccer buddy and apartment mate Matthew in the hall.
"Oh hey Rick. Wow! Did you get all dolled up for a hot date?!"
And Richard, embarrassed, kind of blushed.
"Don't tell me you followed up with that sexy blonde princess from Friday?! And she said yes?! Shut up!"
"Yes..."
Said Richard.
"So going out to meet her?"
"No. She is coming to pick me up here in just a bit. But I need some beer."
"Hey! Take mine! Its on me, so long as you tell me everything!"
"You sure?"
"Absolutely."
"So where are you going?"
Asked Matthew.
"No idea."
"You sure she is not some crazy icepick killer that will cut you up into pieces and through your body into the bay?"
"Haha! That is funny. I hope not."
Said Richard, but truly he did not know. Though something in his heart actually did assure him she was not. Maybe.
"Well, if she is, I don't blame you. So long as you die having orgasmed first, that is. I would love a piece of that chic just like every other guy. She clearly is into you though."
And Richard could not quite come to believe that was true...
In any case it was ten minutes to 2pm when he and Mathew heard a summoning honk from just outside their ground floor apartment. Couldn't be her, he thought. A girl like that almost certainly did fashionably late for a living. He had planned to step out in five minutes, to be in front of his apartment building five minutes to 2pm. So he and Matthew went to the peek out the window, and Mathew went.
"Pardon my French, but holy shit!"
