“It’s not working.”
“Not yet,” she purrs and takes my half-hard cock to the back of her throat.
Still, my cock doesn’t want to play. “Sorry, sweetheart, it’s not happening tonight.” I help her up to her feet and shove another fifty in her hand. “Sorry.”
“Too bad,” she shrugs. “Damn whiskey dick. Maybe another time,” she says with heat in her eyes.
“Maybe,” I grunt and lean my head back on the gritty stucco of the building. This is bullshit. I can’t even fucking get off because of Letty, but I can’t get off with her either.
Or can I?
I know it’s drunk logic, but I find myself pulling out my phone and searching for Letty’s contact info. I’ll sweet talk her into coming out, maybe get a few kisses or more. I sway a little and fall back against the wall as my eyes squint to focus on the number on the screen.
“Hello?” Her voice is husky, and I wonder if she’s been thinking about me.
“Letty. I can’t stop thinking about you.”