Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Tell me something, girl
Are you happy in the modern world?
Or do you need more?
Is there something else you’re searchin’ for?
That lost unsteadiness evaporates as she closes her eyes and the lilt of her voice spreads through me like a sweet poison. The song stings me in places that have never felt anything. She raises one hand along with the high note, tightening my balls against my body.
Tell me something, boy
Aren’t you tired trying to fill that void?
Or do you need more?
Ain’t it hard keeping it so hardcore?
This is going to fuck things up. The things I want to do to my new stepsister but it’s a force larger than myself. As I move through the tables, winding like a viper toward my prey, my eyes lock on the ‘V’ between her legs.
I imagine throwing her down, cutting every shred of her clothing from her curves, grabbing her behind the knees and spreading her wide so I see it all. That slick pink slit, that puckered little asshole. My fire’s never been lit like this and I start to wonder if the bartender slipped something in my water shot just for shits and grins.
The irresponsible desire to defile her, to have her sticky and stuffed full of my cock as I pump through my own jizz to fill her up again, is all-consuming like wildfire on the horizon.
I imagine her calling for me. Begging me in a slutty, needy moan, leaving all that sweetness behind and turning into my little fuck doll, greedy for what only I can give her. Slapping that wet little cunt while she calls me Daddy and begs me to fuck her.
I’m off the deep end, watch as I dive in…
Fuck, this girl is destroying me right here in front of every-fucking-one. Every word, every note delivered directed into the ball of hate in my chest, cracking it open.
We’re far from the shallow now…
Her eyes connect to mine. I’m standing at the edge of the stage in the middle of it all and I don’t give a fuck. She looks like she was born to be on stage but not this shitty one.
She holds the microphone like she should be holding my dick. Chubby little fingers wrapped around, barely circling the girth.
Her tumbles of red curls hangover her bare shoulders. That white blouse barely covering her voluptuous tits that are making my mouth water.
Three of the dancers catch my eye sitting at a table to the left of the stage. They’re throwing back shots with a few patrons but they’re mocking Lula. Pretending they’re singing into invisible microphones. Only, they are pumping their hand back and forth like they’re giving head, their tongues pulsing out on their cheeks as the others laugh.
Oh. Fuck. No.
A low growl rumbles in my chest, constricting my throat as she finishes the last of the song and I’ve never heard anything more beautiful in my life. She’s got a voice like an angel. My angel. And this bullshit is going to stop right fucking now.
She kills the end of the song on a note that gives me fucking shivers.
There’s applause, her mother is doing this little bunny hop while she claps, pointing to herself and telling everyone Lula is her daughter while my father sits at a table, oblivious to it all, tapping on his phone.
“We should invite her to chubby chasers’ night,” one of the girls says.
Then a gold chain wearing dude named Sam—a regular with a wife and six kids at home—chimes in, “Yeah, fucking nasty ass—”
He doesn’t get to finish. I barrel over there and flip the four top over, laying him out with one solid fist to his jaw. I’m not one to hit a woman but it takes Tiny and James to keep me from twisting the pink haired bitch dancer’s head off.
“Not a party until shit gets broken,” I hear tiny through my rage as he pulls me up, panting and growling and then leans next to my ear. “Dude, get it together. What the fuck is going on with you?”
Anger pulses through me as the trio of girls and the three patrons are picked up by the wait staff. My father shoots me a ‘what the fuck’ look but the only thing that stops me from pounding the rest of their heads into the floor is Lula.
The look of fear and horror on her face stops me cold.
She’s scared.
Of me.
My fists ball so tight my knuckles burn. The girls skitter away, giving Lula shitty looks as Leroy settles the crowd and calls for a time out, which as the girls and regulars here know means no girl on stage but instead, patrons can take the floor and pay for the girls to dance with them.
He puts on some fucking song I’ve heard in here a thousand times as I watch Tiny tell a couple of the dancers to take the guy I almost knocked out over to the bar.