Chapter 3

Victors

I don’t like the tone of that voice. It reminds me of when I was eighteen… when I was still heavily under his control. Surely enough, when I look up, I see those eyes. They hold finality. I would have yielded easily if it was ten years ago.

Now, I try my best to hold that gaze.

“Dad… let’s not do this.”

“Oh, but we are.” His eyes are the same blue color as mine and hold the resilience I can only say I mirror. “You’re taking an assistant not only because you need one, but because I believe it’s beneficial. You’re talented, good with people, and possess a charisma that baffles me, considering you’re a brooding miser who will probably spend the rest of his days lonely…”

Ah, yes. I miss his bluntness.

“…But I want to find out, really, how well you work with the company. How well you work with others. It is a key part of being a good leader.”

This is where I interrupt him. “I cannot see how I haven’t excelled in that aspect.”

“You make people work for you; you work for me. Whom have you worked with?” He poses a question that I open my mouth to answer immediately, but shut up almost soon after.

He’s right.

I hate it when he’s right.

“See?” he gives his infamous wise-man-with-a-bright-eyed look. “Until I see you can as a person relate level-headed, I’m afraid I can’t guarantee your ascension to the position as the chief executive officer of this company.”

What my father said feels like a metal rod scraping against a metal pan.

“You know that’s unfair. I can develop those skills as I go along the way. It shouldn’t be a determining factor.” I whine.

He raises his hand in surrender. “I mean, you are right, but—my house, my rules.”

“You really want that assistant employed, don’t you?” I huff.

His smile makes me want to go in a boxing ring with him to have it out. This is pure dictatorship!

I take a large inhale and allow the air to molest my lungs before pushing them back out.

“It’s time for my night shift. I’m going to the Don Erotico.” I stand and grab my jacket from the backrest of the chair.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” My father’s words followed me out of the office.

“Whatever, Dad. You’d take a no for a yes.” I shake my head.

“And don’t you think you’re too old to be clubbing?” he shoots, knowing I wouldn’t answer that question.

It has been a long habit of mine to find peace in the thrumming bass of the nightclub, and even if it’s still early, I will stay here till the hour turns ungodly, especially on Fridays like this.

Fridays are when the girls of New Orleans come out to play, and I haven’t seen a time better than late at night when the pressure to be your darkest, most carnal self is ignited.

I suffer in my social life. Talking to girls randomly still isn’t my strongest suit, so I guess the best way to get myself in on some form of action is in the club, where everyone’s true intentions are just because they cross those front thresholds and begin swaying their alluring hips to the music.

Once the time strikes two hours till midnight, I know the time is right, and I zone my eyes into the front door, trying to select my company for the night from whoever walks in.

It doesn’t take me long, mostly because I select for physical reasons and nothing else. If the motives are the same, I couldn’t give a second thought about an outstanding personality. Besides, I’m going to be with her for eight hours in the longest-case scenario. It wouldn’t make so much sense for me to have to select someone that could get me thinking about her for days.

On that note, I stand and take my seat beside a captivating figure with lustrous, golden-haired beauty.

“No alcohol?” I raise a questioning brow at her moral conduct.

“Nah, I’d rather be level-headed and observe what is going on around me.” She confesses in a small voice that hardens me instantly.

I can’t help but imagine her moans!

“Well, trust me. There is more than enough activity to make you feel intoxicated, even when you’re sober.” I chuckle, and she joins in, signaling a clear sign of our rapport.

I look deep into her eyes when I make the next statement. “I don’t control what is around us, but if you give me the time and us the privacy, I’ll make a lot happen all over here.” I ravage my eyes all over her body.

I would’ve torn her clothes right off, if only eyes could perform such magic.

“Well, there’s definitely a lot of privacy in the restroom, and suddenly, I feel a little pressed.” I adjust myself and stand, leaving her in the chair to contemplate whether to follow me.

Of course, by the time I get there, she’s right behind me and even closes the door to the stall I enter before we attack each other’s lips like rabid animals.

I match her enthusiasm and continue kissing her, trying my best to rid myself of as much clothing as you ideally should during a quickie like this.

It would be unethical to take all your clothes off.

My shirt comes loose, though, and her dress is already leaving very little to take off.

Hence with a pull of some straps, the shift of her underwear to the side, and some clever arrangement, the entire dress fits on her torso, from under her delicious breasts, to just above her hips.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty thing?” I hiss before taking one of her sexy D-cup-sized breasts into my mouth and sucking on them.

My fantasy comes true, and she gives off one of the most erotic moans I’ve ever heard from a stranger, mostly because of the lightness of her voice.

As I suck her, she strokes me… till she gets impatient.

Then she just brazenly takes out my eager cock from my pants and gets on her knees.

‘I was wondering what took you so long.’ I chuckle in my mind, recalling that she was the one who promised me wonders.

Truly… her mouth does wonders. She slurps me up well, moving in and out of me like a true professional.

What turns me on the most is how much fun she’s having. A sexy wink here and a smile there. I don’t miss those tiny details as she keeps her throat game to the absolute maximum.

Finally, before she makes me explode all in her mouth, I hoist her up and pull a condom over myself.

Dang it. I got the wrong fit. It’s a size or two too small, but I’ll manage. After making final adjustments to her position, where I put a leg on my shoulder, gawking at how flexible she was, I slid into her wet, sopping walls.

She accepts me with a whimper before in her own perversion, beginning to initiate motion… motion that I take over from and sate her.

I can tell that she needed this. Maybe a lot more than I did, so I’m happy to be of service. She closes her eyes throughout the rest of the experience, doing nothing else… just feeling.

Her moans lay testament to how wonderful I make her feel, and her convulsions at the end inform me of my accomplished mission.

I pull out from her, and she assumes the knee position again, this time using her mouth with such professional accuracy, she doesn’t stop until I finish.

I love sex without the complication of emotions. It’s just so… simple.