Daisy - Sex Stories

Daisy

... brainless, and still she had no idea who he was. Just what his dick wanted. That possibly was his fault since he offered so little, but lately the routine of getting his cock waxed by his faithful honey didn’t seem so appealing.

“Aren’t you due on stage?”

“In another hour. I got time.” She licked her top lip.

Aiden sipped his brandy, then nodded and walked off. Andy sighed behind him. When he sank into his leather chair, he could hear the click of her heels as she sashayed over. The bangles on her wrists clinked.

“Okay, Aiden. I’m just going to say it.”

“Please do,” he said, swirling his brandy.

“It’s been over a year since we met. I know you bang other girls but you and I? Well it’s obvious we got something special.”

His brows rose. “Is it?”

“Yes, it is.” She crossed her arms over the tits he’d bought her for her birthday. “I want a bigger commitment. A real commitment. If I’m your main lady, why am I still shaking my ass on a stage for strangers?”

Aiden smirked. He brought the glass to his lips. He let the smooth burn of the brandy numb his tongue. Sucking back the after-taste, he lowered it the snifter. “Andy, you haven’t been a lady since your first trick.”

“You asshole! I told you that story in confidence. If I’m a whore, you—”

“If?”

“Why do you do that? You and I know I’m the only woman willing to put up with your moody, non-committal, chauvinistic attitude.”

Aiden shrugged. She had a valid point, but still he didn’t care. She was ...

... what she was, and it is what it is.

“Leave, Andy.”

She, of course, refused to be dismissed. Aiden struggled with his temper. “Leave before I get up and toss you out on that champagne ass of yours.”

“You keep treating me like shit, Aiden, and expecting me to be here to stroke your ego. I’m not your fucking wife!” Andy lowered before him. She touched his wrist. “But I can be or whatever you need if you stop acting like you don’t care. ’Cause I know it’s an act.”

“When I want to see you, I’ll call you,” he said. “That’s always been the deal.” Andy sighed. Rising, she turned to leave, but stopped herself. When he lifted his head, her lips were up against his. Aiden’s head was forced back as her tongue darted in and out of her mouth. He possessed it for a brief second, then his mouth went lax against hers. She stroked his cheek and drew back. “Why don’t you let me come back after my set? Let me take care of you?”

He stared into her eyes, a hard, passionless stare that made her sigh in defeat.

“Fine. Call me when you want me, Aiden.” She turned on her heels and switched away, picking up her purse as she reached the door. Aiden set the brandy glass aside. After a quick check of the time, his eyes went to the phone. He pushed up from his chair and crossed the room.

“Mr. Keane, sir. How can I help?”

“Our guests in 5033A. Did they check in?”

“Yes sir. An hour ago.”

“Under what name?”

“Doyle. Peter Joseph Doyle.”

Aiden dropped his hand in his pocket. ...