Page 7 of Intoxicated
“You sound like a playboy, Mr. Benton. I’m another hot girl to notch on your bedpost. If you bother keeping track now. You didn’t care about my name, because you think I’m an easy slut, not that it matters to either you or me.”
“Yet you keep bringing it up.”
“A woman is always concerned with her image around town.”
Are you really sure about that, Cher? Because that line might work on a man who knows nothing about you, but I’m not such a man. It’s taking as many reserves as the bartender has to not crack up laughing right now. You! Caring about your image! When you’ve made a lifestyle out of breaking men’s hearts to the point one of them has hired me to breakyours!Whew. I need a handkerchief. I’ve got tears in my eyes from laughing so hard.
“I could be a playboy,” I say. “Or I could be a guy who dates around in the futile hope of meeting the right girl. You know, that fabled right one?”
“You might as well scream at me that you’re a man-ho.”
“If a slut and a man-ho enter a room at the same time, does it create a disturbance in the puritanical force?”
“Great,” Cher glibly says. “He’s making Star Wars jokes now.”
“The fact you get it’s a Star Wars reference makes you hotter, by the way.”
This time she gives in to the eye roll. What adramaticone it is, too! Every muscle in her face goes along with it, as if she’s been waiting for this moment. This pivotal, crucial moment in which she finally lets me see a sliver of who she really is.
“I’m not asking you to go steady with me,Cher.” I stress her name to prove that I’ve remembered it. “I’m asking for one date. As much as I would love to keep chatting with you here, I’m afraid I have an early morning with my family. You know. The Bentons of Beaverton.”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to say no if all you’re interested in is my body.”
“I have no expectations, beyond some nice conversation. We could talk about Star Wars for a few hours.”
She snaps her head around, that fragile disbelief now pure, uncutAre you fucking kidding me?“You’re lucky you’re rich and good looking,” Cher snaps. “Because those are the only reasons I’m considering it.”
“Hey, at least you’re considering it.”
“Give me one good reason to go out with you on Sunday.”
I mull over my options. Do I continue to play the unlucky in love heir who stupidly keeps dating hot girls, thinking one of them will be his perfect bride? Or do I try to lay on a little romance? For a woman like Cher, who always has dollar signs in her eyes, I can think of only one thing to win her over. Me. A rich guy in a sea of available men who think they’re hot shit and give her what shereallywants.
“Because,” I say, lowering my voice and leaning closer to her, “unlike every other guy in here, I can actually make you come.”
If you’re expecting her to slap me, you’re about to be disappointed. Because Ms. Lieberman is the kind of woman whowantsto hear that outlandish promise. This is a woman who has slept with so many mediocre men she’s not even attracted to, that she’s forgotten what it’s like to have great, blow-your-top-off sex. She hasn’t hidden her opinion that she thinks I’m attractive. We’ve got this chemistry sizzling between us, the one begging me to rip open her dress and dive right into that crazy-hot body. She’s been glancing at my pants every five minutes since I sat down. You think I haven’t noticed? Oh, she hasn’t only been glancing at whatever bulge I may be packing. She’s been daydreaming about fucking me since I sat down.
It may or may not be mutual.
Can you imagine us if we actually fooled around? We would make a prettygoodlooking couple. I bet she’s a real tiger, too. The kind that acts like she can’t be contained, and will definitely go down clawing and biting until you finally turn those growls into howls of pleasure. She’s gone so long without caring about sex that she won’t know how good it is for her until it’s slamming her between the legs. Using my cock as its conduit, preferably. I wouldn’t mind shoving my face in that cleavage, either. Would she like to keep the fashion tape holding those breasts up? I bet I can fuck her so hard it comes undone and, boom, say goodbye to your “natural” lift, Cher.
I won’t care, either. There isn’t anything we could do that wouldn’t be as hot as the sun.
“That’s a bold claim,” Cher purrs. I shouldn’t take that sound lightly. She’s not looking to kitty-cat against my arm and beg for scritches. She’s getting ready to arch her back and slash me across the face. She’s that cat rolling onto her back, exposing her stomach, daring me to think we’re close enough for me to touch her most prized spot. “Would be absolutely terrible if we put that to the test and you couldn’t deliver.”
“You make it sound like I couldn’t.” I grin. “Or that I would care I didn’t. Getting you in my bed is reward enough for me.”
“You’re a cad.”
“Yes, a cad you’re going out with on Sunday.” I pull a pen out of my back pocket and write my private number down on a napkin. “Text me when you decide you’re ready to go out with a man who will actually take care ofyourneeds for once.” I slide the napkin over. She does not look at it, nor does she touch it. “I’m not promising you the moon, Cher. I’m promising a nice date that could lead to something you’ve been desperately searching for.” I leave that open, assuming she’s looking for good sex. Or, hey, maybe she’s looking for love. That would be better. Would certainly make my job easier.
If she’s only looking for sex, though? My job gotbetter.
Trust me when I say I’ve stuck it in some batshit crazy before. Believe me when I tell you that my dick has plundered the depths of some truly reprehensible women. I knew they were when I fucked them. I wasn’t always paid to bed them, either. It wasn’t always about making them fall in love with me so I could absolutely wreck them. You want to know one of the reasons I got into this gig? Oh, you haven’t realized it yet?
I’ve been doing this since before I realized I could turn it into aservice.
I can’t say no to pretty girls who aren’t afraid to bite your dick while they blow you. Living on the edge with a volatile woman has its… advantages. Especially in the bedroom. Maybe a lot of guys fantasize about it, but few of the ones I talk to actually have the guts to get wrapped up with a chick they know is a huge piece of work. After a certain age, anyway. Teenagers and young studs in college tell themselves it’s worth it ‘cause she’s hot. Maybe the sex is fantastic. (It usually is.) But the fallout that results in stalkers, used tampons sent in the mail, and your mother calling you up in the middle of the night saying your childhood home has been burgled quickly puts an end to those fantasies.
