“Life’s cruel in subtle ways,” offered the old fart.
She rolled her wide eyes and shrugged her small shoulders back at him.
It made him laugh. “Very droll, Baby-Bitch.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, vivid pink tip between Blazing-Red lipstick lips, and stretched like a sunning jaguar. “Who’s Baby-Bitch am I, gramps? I want to belong to Johnny Depp, but all I got was you and a ten-percent off coupon.” She stretched again, a languid nymph looking far younger than she was, then slowly wound herself, yoga-fashion, upright, legs bend wide and folded at the knees. Her labia opened to his glance. She saw him looking and mock-shyly covered her cunt with her hand. She dipped her head and fluttered her eyelashes. “Buy me something, Daddy,” she whispered.
The old fart shook his head. He sipped his mimosa. He settled himself backward on the chaise lounge and closed his eyes.
She reached a hand and let it land on his thigh, little finger against his ball sac. She tapped her forefinger with each word. “Buy. Me. Something.” The finger shifted, slid down the head of his cock. “Daddy.”
He willed himself into stillness. “What?”
She leaned over and kissed where her finger had touched. “I don’t care,” she murmured. “The moon. Or voodoo. My own mortuary. That’d be cool. Or all your love.”
“Do you think I’m that cheap?”
She flickered her tongue—snaky—against the very tip of him. “Dad. Dy. Su. Gar dad. Dy.” Her giggle rippled along his bare skin, enveloped his mind.
“Who taught you such cruelty, Baby-Bitch?”
He felt her shoulders shrug.
She took his cock in her grasp and squeezed it in idle, pausing rhythms like a child with a toy. “If this was hard now, you could fuck me.”
“I’ve fucked you before. It’s not that great.” He turned on his side and pretended to snore.
“Liar!” She bit the round hump of his still firm ass. “That’s what you do to me. Bite my butt!”
After a long moment, he turned back. “Yours tastes better.”
She folded her arms beneath her breasts and pouted. “Well, no shit Sherlock. Yours is like a…a three-day-old hamburger.”
“Is it? How would you know?” He pushed himself up and encircled her with his arms.
She shrugged and kept the pout on her lips. The bottom one trembled prettily. “You don’t love me. I’m just your little fuck-bunny.”
“Wriggle your nose for me. I like that.”
She laughed out loud and nestled back in his embrace. One hand snaked between them and ringed his cock. “Gimme some carrot, Daddy.”
The afternoon sun grew hotter, as if watching their love-making made even burning stars horny. Sweat dribbled down her smooth back as she straddled him and the chaise lounge and twisted this way then that, seeking the elusive perfect fit, endlessly it seemed.
“That’s not fucking. That’s squirming, Baby-Bitch.”
“Then why you grinning, old man?” She raised herself high until just the head of his cock remained inside her. “Buy me something, Daddy. If you want young pussy, you got to keep it happy, you know.”
He sighed loudly. “And what could I buy for your pussy to make it happy?”
She swayed her hips, but didn’t lower them. “Youuuuuu knooooow,” she drawled.
He grabbed her hips and thrust upward deeply, making her gasp as she enveloped his shaft all the way to his balls.
“Yessssssss!” she hissed.
His wide, strong hands moved her up and down, machine-like, sliding deep inside then out to graze against her swollen clit, then another hard thrust back inside. Seconds grew into moments, the moments longer, then countless. When she shuddered in climax, he dragged her hips upward to his mouth and tongued her quickly to another. She collapsed backward onto his body, holding his head pressed between her thighs. “God, Daddy.” Her hand reached, ruffled through his hair, stumbled across his face to his mouth. “Nobody. Nobody. Nobody like you.” Her voice softened to silence.
They lay like that for a long time, then she rose. His eyes opened to see her standing, hands on hips, beside him. “That’s not fair. You didn’t come. Don’t make me fuck that pool boy again just to get some come.” She went to her knees and put her head on his chest. “I didn’t.”
He stroked her hair. “I know that.”
“If you don’t come for me, Daddy, how do I know you love me? I mean, I know you don’t, but why?”
“How many times have I told you I love you today?”
She rubbed her head on his chest.
“Come on. How many times?”
“Twenty-two,” she said with a giggle. “I count them.”
“Twenty-two. That many times? I must be starting to get old.”
“You ARE old! Real old.” She raised up and looked into his eyes. She kissed his mouth hard. “You’re my lover,” she said with a wide smile.
“And?”
“And my…” She shrugged. “Stuff.”
“Stuff? Oh. That’s lovely. Your stuff. Put that on my business cards, maybe.”
“Ass!”
He poked a finger into her left nipple. “Boob!”
“You are so weird. Talk about weird, some woman came by yesterday while you were in L.A. Teanne? Dianne?”
“Ti-shanne. Lives up the street. What did she want?”
“Something about a book. I forget. Anyway, she asks do I live here, then am I your daughter, then am I your niece or something.”
“And you said?”
“I said, no, I just fucked you when you let me, which wasn’t often enough and did she have a big, thick dildo I could borrow sometimes when she wasn’t busy with it.”
He laughed.
“Anyway, her face turned all red. You used to fuck her, huh?”
“Ti-shanne? Only a couple of times. She has issues. Lots of issues. Anyway, long time ago.”
“Long before you met the one and only Baby-Bitch?”
“Yes. Long.”
“Long is good. Long, thick, hot as fire.” She took his cock in her hand again. “Can I have this, Daddy? Forever and ever and ever?”
“Hmm. I don’t know. What would you use it for?”
“Oh, usual stuff. Opening tin cans. Long rides down bad roads. Spitting come for me. That okay?”
“We’ll see. You might just want a trial-run, see if you like it, then opt for a later model with more features.”
She pretended to examine his cock more closely. “Good point. Does it come in a convertible? Is it fuel-efficient? It seems awfully high-maintenance.”
“It is.”
Suddenly she burst out laughing, holding her sides.
“What?”
“‘Does it come in a convertible?’ I said. I’ll just bet it does. Want to come in my convertible? Come on, don’t be so stingy, Daddy. Your little baby wants some of your juicy-juice. I gave you mine.”
“Did not. I took it.”
“Oh. So that’s how it’s got to be, huh? I have to take your come, you won’t give it up?”
He shook his head.
“Puh-leeze? Pretty please?”
He shook his head again.
She stood up, walked around to the foot of the chaise lounge, spread her legs wide and lifted her arms in the air. “Oh, you’re a mean, old daddy, but I’m gonna make you gimme some,” she sang in a light bluesy made-up song. She lifted her breasts, offering them and pinching at the nipples. “You’re a mean, old daddy, but I’m gonna make you come and come.”
He pushed himself up on his elbows and watched her, shaking his head.
“I don’t know why you’re so mean!” She stamped her foot. “You listen to me, you old fart. Either you give me some come right this minute or I’ll. . .” She slipped down to the tiled patio and sat cross-legged. Twice she angrily pointed at him and started to say something. Finally, it came out in a wet, sputtering gurgle: “You’re impossible!”
He made his lips a tight line. “All right, Baby-Bitch, come here.”
“Can I suck your cock?”
“All right.”
“All right!”
She was slow and lingering, kissing first, then licking seemingly a centimeter a minute, teasing, but gently teasing. She sucked the head between her compressed lips and licked all around it, making little noises in her throat that vibrated down the shaft and up his spine. Her hands stroked up his chest and she pinched his hardening nipples, pulling and tugging them. Then her mouth took him in completely. She mouth-fucked him for a long moment, then slipped his cock out with a liquid popping sound. She looked up into his eyes along his body. “Daddy? Buy me something.”
“What?”
“All your love.”
“Not worth much.”
“Uh huh.”
© 2004 William S. Dean. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.