Page 23 of Silver Fox Daddies

This might just be the best day of my entire life.

I’ve entertained only a few different women in my life, nothing compared to what Diesel and Bishop probably have. I had a college girlfriend I dated for two years, but we graduated and had to move away, and we just drifted apart.

I was looking for a girlfriend at the time, and when you’re searching for something, you tend to find it. I don’t think she was the love of my life, but she taught me one or two things about myself, and I’m grateful for that.

Since then, I’ve only been with a few other women. I took a step back from dating when I got my first job working with computers and it started consuming my entire life. Until a few months ago, when I realized it was starting to suck the personality all out of me. I didn’t really have any friends, just drove to work, typed on keyboards for eight hours, and left.

I wanted to be part of something larger than myself. That’s why the club appealed. I have no interest in guns. All I want is to belong to something and have a sense of community.

“How are you doing back there?” I ask.

Melissa tightens her grip on me. “Perfect.”

I look into the side-view mirror and watch her face. Despite the wind whipping frantically at her hair, she looks peaceful. In awe, almost, like she’s seeing the desert for the first time.

“Have you ridden out here before?”

“Never. Daddy says it’s too dangerous.”

“I hate to say it, but your daddy is wrong.”

Melissa rolls her head back, exposing more of her neck and collarbone. Her bronzed skin glows in the sun.

I try to keep my eyes on the road, but at the end of the day I’m just a man in the presence of a beautiful woman. I look into the side-view and take a look at her thighs. The skirt of her dress blows up as we hit the wind, lifting from her legs. Am I seeing things, or are those red lace panties?

I gulp, focusing my eyes back to the road.

“How come you said earlier in your text that you didn’t want to meet?” I watch in the mirror, noticing her hesitation.

“I was embarrassed,” she admits.

She probably was embarrassed, but not a lot. If she was seriously embarrassed, would she be riding out into the desert with us now?

Her grip on me strengthens.

Then, I feel one of her fingers veer south.

When I turn around, she stops, hands returning to where they were before.

“Is something on your mind, sweetheart?”

“Just curious.”

“Curious about what?”

She doesn’t answer. Just looks out to the other two, her eyes narrowing in thought. “I wanna see this clubhouse.”

5

MELISSA

Idon’t know what has come over me.

Idon’twant to see this clubhouse; I want to go back to the city before they murder me.

But my mouth has spoken.

My body doesn’t feel like my own. First, it was the finger trailing down on its own accord, close to Cash’s groin. Then, it was my mouth deciding to contradict my brain.

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