THEBLONDEISON HER knees in the dirty bathroom, sucking my cock like it’s the only thing that’ll keep her alive, but I can’t focus past my annoyance. Loud ridiculous moans bounce off the walls while her head bobs along my length. Sure, some women get off on blow jobs, but her theatrics are over the top.
They’re more distracting than anything. I should have known she’d be a show pony.
I was so irritated with the whole Mila/Bastian thing I needed to blow off some steam… or just blow a load. This bitch’s mouth seemed like the perfect place to do that. Now I think I’d rather come in my hand than listen to this bullshit.
Twisting Blondie’s hair in my fist, I slam myself into the back of her throat. Her moans are quickly replaced by gagging. Maybe if she’s focused on trying not to choke on my dick, I can concentrate on busting a nut. Relaxing her throat muscles, she lets me take control. Not that she has much choice at this point. She really thought she was doing something here.
This bathroom is for employees only, but there were too many people lined up in the public bathrooms. Not that I give a fuck about sexual acts in public, but with me being law enforcement, it’s frowned upon.
I'm nearly in heaven with the door locked and this slut skinning her knees.
Well, nearly is a stretch.
As much as I would love to stick my dick in Blondie’s cunt, she gives off “I’m going to call you ‘Daddy’” vibes, and I’ll take a hard pass on her daddy issues. Hell, that shit is probably rancid, considering how easy it was to get her on her knees.
Fuck, she’s sloppy.
I tilt my head against the wall trying to focus on my pleasure, only to find my mind filled with the image of bright green eyes, pouty red lips, wavy black hair, and a killer body.
With Mila’s smooth curves and bedroom eyes filling my head, I’m finally able to focus. I imagine my dick between those beautiful lips while she looks up at me through her eyelashes, taking my dick like she was made for it.
Shit.
My body tenses as I picture Mila’s long black nails scraping down my chest to my abdomen. She’d be the type to leave me near bleeding, ensuring I wouldn’t forget she used my body for her pleasure.
I pick up my pace, fucking the warm mouth wrapped around me as hard as possible without killing the girl. I’m about to fall off the edge with Mila front and center. Those large perky tits, that tight-as-fuck plump ass, and those hips. Goddamn, those hips are the perfect shape to hold onto as she rides you, trying to break your dick off.
I shoot my load down Blondie’s throat with that image, not releasing my hold on her until she swallows every last drop. I shove even, not allowing any to dribble out of her mouth.
She pushes against me, forcing my dick out, and falls to the floor, gasping.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she asks, rubbing her throat.
“You looked thirsty,” I smirk. “But really, your incessant moaning was not doing anything to help me get my nut, love. Had to shut you up somehow. We’re done here.”
Tucking my dick away, I’m prepared to leave her on the floor with the knowledge of her shameful performance, but Blondie has other plans and grabs one of my pants legs, a look of disbelief on her now unattractive face. She could’ve been gorgeous, but she wasn’t what I wanted tonight.
Having Mila’s face in my mind nearly the entire time Blondie was sucking me down, it’s hard not to compare… since there’s no comparison.
Fucking hell.
I’m not used to shots at my ego, but Mila didn’t miss when firing her rounds. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one to play God’s gift to women. Well, maybe a little. I’ve been turned down and moved on, but something about her choosing Bastian over me that pisses me off.
“Want to take this back to my place?”
Blondie breaks through my thoughts as she looks up at me from her position on the bathroom floor. Now I can’t help but think about what other fucking germs she’s invited into her pussy, and that’s not sanitary.
“Nope,” I say, letting the “p” pop as I turn on my heel and leave her to lick her wounds.
We came to The Emerald relatively early for clubbers. Now my shitty mood is killing any motivation to further investigate anything to do with Nathaniel Olin tonight.
Glancing down at my watch, I realize I left Bastian alone at the bar almost forty minutes ago. The fucker probably rolled out not ten minutes after I disappeared, but I guess I should make sure he’s gone before I head home.
Knowing he wouldn’t have left his spot, I push through the crowd. More bodies are packed together than when I walked through here with the blonde. It’s been about two hours since Mila left now, and Bastian’s been standing in a dreamy daze since she walked out of the club’s doors, only adding to my irritation.
Maybe she’s into weak men. The type to come in their slacks from a mere batting of eyelashes.
To my surprise, Bastian is still at his post. On his phone. That motherfucker. He lied about forgetting his phone at the office. But why? Why would he trust me to have Mila’s phone number? Christ, I saw him with his phone outside of the club while he ignored everyone around him.