Mr. Masters (Mr. 1)

“Sexy Bitch by David Guetta.”

She starts to dance freely, not trying to be cool at all, and her hips move to the rhythm as she turns to look in the fridge. With her back to me, my eyes stay firmly on her ass as it sways to the beat. The words ring out.

Oh, she’s a sexy bitch.

A sexy bitch.

I hold my breath as I watch her.

Fitting song. Sexy bitch should be her anthem. The song continues and she really gets into it, picking up her glass and giggling as she dances. She spills her drink down her forearm, and then she puts her arm up and slowly licks it off.

I clench as I feel it all the way to the tip of my cock.

Jesus Christ. I pick up the scotch and pour myself a glass too quickly. It sloshes over the side. How much seduction can a man take before he fucks his nanny on his kitchen floor?

I sip my drink as my eyes rake her in. She’s laughing freely as she dances.

The warmth of the liquor heats my throat, but its nothing like the fire that’s starting down below.

Stop dancing like that, baby, or you will wake Mr. Masters… and he doesn’t treat naughty girls like you so well.

She looks down and notices my drink. “Oh, you’re drinking now.” She smiles as she bounces to the beat. “Can we play truth or dare?”

I lick my bottom lip. “If you like.” This is dangerous territory, but I can’t make myself go to bed. At least… not alone.

“You go first.” She beams.

I sip my scotch as I think of my first question. “How did your night go with the man you met on the plane?”

She curls her lip. “Started out okay.” She shrugs. “We kissed.”

“How was it?”

Her eyes drop to my lips and she licks her own. My cock clenches in approval.

“The kiss?” she asks.

I nod.

“The kiss was okay, I guess.”

I can’t help myself and I have to ask. “You went home with him?”

This is so inappropriate.

She shakes her head. “No.” She shrugs. “He asked me to have a threesome with him and his friend.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Who on Earth would want to share you?”

Our eyes lock.

She leans over the counter onto her elbows, our faces only inches apart.

Electricity zaps between us.

“Did you come home because you were angry with him for asking you for a threesome?” I ask.

“No. I came home because when I was kissing him I was thinking of somebody else.”