CHAPTER ONE
Sutton
Bringing the top shelf bourbon to my lips, I slowly drag my blue eyes around the lavishly decorated restaurant. It’s Saturday night and all the wealthy old men of Dallas are wining and dining their barely legal sluts. It’s a trip to watch women in their early twenties laugh and not have a single muscle on their face move. It’s an even a bigger one to fuck them and see not one facial expression. Ever watch a woman cum with a frozen face? Trust me, it’s the stuff of nightmares. You’re better off jerking off with a pocket pussy.
But I digress.
I don’t know why my date chose this particular spot. The women I take out usually want to go someplace where they can make content for their vapid social media accounts. But not this girl,oh no.She asked if I could take her to one of the oldest establishments in the city. This is a place where my Great-Granddaddy took my Great-Memaw nearly a century ago. Back when the name “Douglas” didn’t account for much besides a laundry list of warrants and a deed to a piece of barren dirt. A piece of dirt that unknowingly held unspeakable wealth. Until the day my Granddaddy tapped into the ground and sprung black gold.
It’s thanks to him that I have the freedom to pursue my own passions. One of them being taking pretty girls out on the town for a night they will never forget.
Hissing as the bourbon trails a line of fire down my throat, my hand sets the crystal glass down a little harder than I mean to. My date isn’t late by any means, I’m just a little antsy. I’ve been looking forward to this date for over two weeks. I don’t normally schedule dates this far out, but there’s something about this girl that told me she would be worth the wait. My gut never lies.
Yanking my phone from the pocket of my pressed slacks, I pull up her profile on the dating app. She really is a gorgeous little thing. With big blue eyes and long blonde hair, she would fit right in with the ladies at our Country Club, but it’s doubtful that she even knows what that is. From what I understand, our lives couldn’t be more different. She comes from an average middle class, Catholic family. Her family couldn’t afford to pay for college, so she took out massive student loans and put herself through school to be a librarian of all things. What twenty-six-year-old woman wants to be a struggling librarian in this day-in-age?
I have to say, her passion for her career, and for books, is endearing, but it’s a shame that she’s barely making ends meet. If I were a better man, I’d show her more of the finer things in life, but this one meal will have to suffice. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure she orders dessert.
Thumbing through her pictures, I can’t help but grin as I stop on one of her cuddling an old golden retriever. I’ve stared at this picture more times than I care to admit. There’s something about the way the camera caught her mid-laugh that’s so fucking adorable. It squeezes my black heart to see a pure moment of joy, maybe because I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt that way. I have a burning need to make her laugh like that at least once tonight. I want to see for myself that radiant look of purity. I swear it will tide me over until the itch gets me again.
Why did I pick such a sweetheart, you ask? Honestly, I’m not sure, I usually don’t. Whores are more my type. Not the kind you find standing outside the hotels by the airport, mind you. I mean the kind that sleep their way to a better social standing. My Mama always told me, “Sutton, you can’t turn a whore into a housewife. It’s best to send them back to hell where they belong.” So, I do exactly that.
Giving her picture another look, my lips press together as I'm interrupted by the buzz of a text message. Normally I’dignore it, but it’s from my Mama. Lord help me if I ever ignore that woman.
“Speak of the devil,” I sayto myself, tapping on her message bubble.
Locking the screen of my phone, I let out a sigh. I love my Mama, but she micromanages every little thing. I feel my annoyance rising, but I quickly course correct it. My Mama would move heaven and hell for me. I know this because she already has. She found a way to make my hobby useful, and for that I will always be grateful.
“I’m her favorite,”I remind myself.
Placing my phone back in my pocket, I freeze for a second as I hear a feminine voice call out behind me. Breathy and tight, like the edge of a preordained moan.
“Sutton? Sutton Douglas?”
Turning my head towards the sound, the wind is knocked from me by a phantom punch. Slinking towards my table is the most gorgeous fucking woman I’ve ever seen. It throws me for a loop; I can’t remember the last time I’ve been caught off guard. Her photos don’t do her a damn lick of justice.
“Dolly?” I ask.
Rising from my velvet seat, I step towards her to greether properly. I hold out my hand, wanting to be the respectful gentleman I can be.
To my shock, she ignores my outstretched hand and steps directly into my space. Before I can say a word, she wraps her arms around me and presses her body to mine. Her touch sends a sharp spark of electricity through my veins, her curves fit perfectly against my toned torso. I instinctively pull her close as she snuggles my chest like I’m already her lover. A genuine smile lifts my lips from her greeting; I think my heart might stop.
Breathing in deeply, I get a waft of her perfume. She smells like honeysuckle and vanilla on a spring day. I’m sure she tastes just as heavenly. The beast inside me roars to life, reminding me of who I truly am. I want to devour every inch of her. Right here, in the middle of the goddamn restaurant.
“Yeah, hey! It’s so good to finally meet you!” she replies, easing herself from my arms.
Her cheeks flush from what I hope is excitement. It’s such an adorable shade of pink against her fair skin. It makes me wonder if other parts of her body turn the same color when she’s aroused. I can't wait to find out.
“I’m happy to meet you, too. My, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes…thank you for letting me take you out. I’ve been looking forward to our date for weeks,” I reply, my voice husky with need.
Slowly raking my gaze over her, I soak in the beginningof her end. She looks so innocent in her polyester milkmaid sundress and loose blonde curls. The cut of the floral dress teases me with just a hint of the swell of her tits, like a whispered promise of what’s to come if I’m a good boy. Oh, and what a good boy I will be. Well, until I’m not.
Out of my peripheral vision, I notice a couple of women near us throwing dirty looks her way. Jealous, catty bitches, but they have every reason to be. Even in their ungodly tight bodycon dresses, they can’t hold a candle to Dolly’s inherent beauty. It’s a fact that they are keenly aware of, I could eat their envy with a spoon.
Drifting my eyes from her breasts to her delicate neck, I feel a pang of disappointment when I see she isn’t wearing a necklace. You really can learn a lot about a woman by the jewelry she wears. But it’s fine, really. By the time I’m through with her she will be wearing two. One made of pearly white cum, and the other my capable hand. My cock twitches at the thought of her erratic heartbeat against my fingertips.
Fuck,this woman is perfection. I don’t think I’ve ever felt such a magnetic pull from anyone before. I’m going to have so much fun with her.
“Really? You have?” she asks, the look of uncertainty behind her light blue eyes. Dropping her gaze, she nervously tugs on her dress.
