“Hey,” she said. “Don’t be fresh with me, Alex. We barely know each other!”
I smirked. “I know quite a lot about you,” I said as I shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side. And you’re going to suck my cock damn well later, I can tell just from looking at those fat lips of yours .
Thinking of lips made my cock swell with desire. I tried to think about what Sara’s other lips would look like. Pink, brown? Loose from having that kid or still tight and luscious? I imagined her soaked slit, visible through the white panties I wasn’t even sure if she was wearing under her dress.
She’s one hot bitch , I thought, glancing sideways at her as I pulled onto the highway. And tonight, she’s mine .
“So,” Sara said, clearing her throat and shifting in the seat. I couldn’t help but stare at the curve of her breasts. “Have you ever been to La Casa Miso before?”
I shook my head. “No, but a buddy told me it was good.”
“Oh, someone you work with?”
I nodded. He was the same one who told me about how easy you are , I thought as I gracefully steered my Mustang across two lanes without slowing down. And he told me your trick – all I have to do is tickle the back of your knee, and I’m in .
“How long have you been fighting fires?”
“Years. Uh, ten, I think,” I said. “I started volunteering back when I was seventeen, and I knew it was the only thing I wanted to do.”
“Why?”
“Excuse me?” I turned and looked at her, surprised. Most women loved hearing that I was a firefighter. It was like they got wet instantly, just from thinking about my brawny self-rushing into a burning building and coming back with three children tucked under my arms, their chubby cheeks smeared with ashes.
“I just have no idea why anyone would want to willingly put their life in danger like that,” Sara said, frowning. She sighed and stretched, pushing her breasts out even further. “I mean, it’s scary.” She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “When I was eleven, my parents’ house caught fire. We were all okay – I mean, even the cats survived. But it was so scary, I still remember how hot it felt to be trapped in that house before the firetrucks showed up.”
I laughed dryly. “Well, without people like me, you wouldn’t have been okay,” I said.
“So that’s why you do it, then? To help people?”
I shrugged. In truth, that wasn’t the reason at all. I did it because it was like being in fraternity, even in my late twenties. I did it because chicks dug it, because I couldn’t go anywhere in the tri-county area without getting free drinks or pizza…or snatch, for that matter. I still remembered one time, years ago, when I’d gone to a strip club for a buddy’s bachelor party. The girls had been all over me, just because I’d still been wearing my shirt from work. They’d given me free lap dances (and more) all night long. If I closed my eyes, I could still remember the perfect pink lips of a stripper named Bunni wrapped around my hard cock, sucking like her life depended on it.
“Yeah, I guess,” I said, after a long pause. “What do you do?”
As I pulled into the parking lot of La Casa Miso, I shoved my car into park and climbed out, waiting impatiently for Sara and her tits to join me. She climbed out, almost stumbling in her platform high heels.
“I’m a teacher,” Sara said. “Elementary school. When I first had Josiah, I dropped out of college, but then I went back to night school and finished up.” She looked at me, obviously proud of herself.
“That’s nice,” I said.
“Yeah,” Sara replied. Her voice took on a dreamy tone. “I just love the little kids, you know? They’re all so sweet and eager to learn. It’s like, who could possibly turn them down?”
I snorted. “I’m not really a kid person,” I said.
“Oh.” Sara sounded wounded. “I love them. I love being around kids.”
“So I take it you want more, then?”
Sara flushed, giving a delicious pink undertone to her pale skin. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe when Josiah is a little older…but I don’t know that I could go through the whole baby and toddler thing again.” She made a face. “I like kids, but really when they’re only old enough to take care of themselves.”
I forced a laugh. God, she’s boring , I thought. A maître d appeared and showed us to our table, right in the middle of the room.
“Look,” I said to Sara. “We’re on display.”
Sara looked around, clearly embarrassed. She didn’t say anything, and I realized she was waiting for me to pull her chair out for her. Smirking, I slid into my seat and raised my eyebrows.
“Waiting for something?” I asked snidely.
Sara flushed again before sitting down and scooting closer to the table. “No,” she said. “Do you like wine?”