Page 13 of Dreaux: The Corporate Assassin

“Uggh!” she moaned as I pinched her clit before stroking it faster. “I’m going to come!”

“Suck this dick, San.” I palmed the back of her head as I continued to rub her. “We’re almost at the spot, baby, so catch this nut.”

Nothing could be heard in the backseat but moans and groans as we both were on the brink of our release. It didn’t take long for my nut to rise and shoot inside her mouth.

“Hmm!” she cried out and shook with a mouth full of dick and semen.

“Fuck!” I growled as she milked me of everything I had. “Gahdamn, girl.”

While we got our breathing together, the car came to a stop. Looking out the window, I realized we were at the steakhouse. Tapping her ass once more, I lifted her from my dick. Thankfully, she didn’t make that much of a mess on my slacks, but I knew her panties were ruined.

“You might as well take those off.” I smirked as she straightened her dress. “That wet spot is going to show through that dress.”

She smirked as she cleaned herself up. “I know… I want you to see what you do to me.”

Chuckling, we took a few more minutes before stepping out of the car and into the restaurant. With her arm looped in mine, we approached the hostess stand and were immediately seated, thanks to reservations.

“I’m so glad you called me to come out tonight,” she said for what seemed like the thousandth time. We were both now back at the table from washing our hands. “It’s been too long since the last time we saw each other.”

“Let’s just enjoy the night.” I sipped my water and looked over the menu. “I don’t want you reading too much into this, Sandra. I brought you out for a chill evening because I’m going out of town, and I wanted the company before I left.”

“Oh, you wanted to wine and dine me before taking me back to your condo.” The attitude in her voice caused me to look up at her, and sure enough, there was a frown on her face. “Am I just pussy to you, Dre?”

Thankfully, we were tucked into the corner, and our voices couldn’t easily be heard over the soft sounds of jazz playing. Placing my water on the table along with my menu, I looked her right in her eyes in hopes she would understand what I was saying. She wanted to have this conversation, so we were.

“How many times over three-plus years have I told you that this will be nothing more than a dick and pussy exchange?” This time, the sadness in her eyes didn’t move me. “You will never be my wife. Hell… you will never be my girlfriend. There’s nothing wrong with you, Sandra. You’d make the perfect helpmate. You just won’t be that for me.”

“Why?” she asked as her bottom lip trembled. “Why can’t I be that for you?”

“Because I don’t want you to be,” I answered honestly. “I like to fuck. Not just you, but other women too. I’m not willing to cut anyone off and make you my one and only, baby. It’s been years, and my stance has been the same since day one. I told you what it was going to be. I hate you caught feelings for me. Tonight wasn’t a date to say, ‘I miss you, and I want more.’ Tonight was a night to say, ‘thank you for pussy over the years. It’s been a blast, but I’m moving on because your time is up.’”

Tears streamed down her face as my words settled in. I didn’t want to hurt Sandra, but I felt like these were the words she needed to hear to move on from the thoughts of us ever being more than what we were. If I had to be rude in my delivery to make that happen, then so be it. I was tired of repeating myself.

“How can you do this to me?” She placed her head in her hands and cried. “I thought I could make you love me.”

“Um, hi,” the waiter greeted us. He looked back and forth between us two, unsure of whether to get our orders or not. “I can come back if you need me to…”

“We’re good,” I assured him as I placed the menu down. Sandra said nothing as she continued to cry softly. “Let me get a bottle of your most expensive wine and two of your porterhouse specials—both medium well.”

Handing him back the menu, it didn’t take him long to come back with the wine. After pouring our first glass, he informed us our food would be up shortly before he went on his way. By now, Sandra had stopped crying.

“Are you okay now?” I asked as I assessed her. “Do you need to go to the bathroom and clean yourself up?”

“I’m fine,” she mumbled and dabbed her eyes. “Let’s just eat dinner so you can take me home and use me.”

Chuckling, I decided not to answer her. She was trying to bait me, and I wasn’t going to let her. She did all that crying and was still willing to let me fuck her. After this dinner, she was getting dropped off at her spot. I hope she got a good and memorable taste of this dick in the car because I was never sticking it in any hole of hers again.

Looking around the restaurant, I saw that the crowd was just as I thought it would be. Fancy suits and laughter filled the air as the sounds of the live band played for our enjoyment. This particular spot was known for its prestigious guest list of patrons, so I wasn’t surprised at all by the man approaching my table.

“Andre Boudreaux!” He beamed with his hand extended. “Nice to see you again.”

I stood and accepted his hand to shake. “Good evening, Lieutenant Governor Holmes. It’s a pleasure to see you as well.”

“How are you doing this fine evening?”

I was scheduled to possibly kill my mother soon, and my pussy for the night had just been canceled. I smiled because telling him any of that was out of the question. “Things have been fine my way. How’s the family?”

Lieutenant Governor Holmes and I have been acquainted with each other for years. He and I met through philanthropy projects hosted by Boudreaux Enterprises. He’s been valuable in getting us set up in various places for the many projects we’ve worked on. He was a decent man with a beautiful wife and children—a respectable family man.

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