I open my door, flip on the lights, and hang back to let Bobby in first.

“What a gentleman.” She smiles over her shoulder.

I give her ass a smack, and she spins around, looking scandalized. “It’s not nice to call names.” I smirk.

“I should have said ‘scoundrel’ instead.”

She’s sauntering into the den, but I catch her arm and spin her back to me. Her hands end up on my chest, like we’re in a movie. Her fingers press my pecs as she smiles up at me. I squeeze her waist, wanting to bend her over my couch and smack her ass again. I get distracted by her luscious mouth…her gently smiling mouth. I want to kiss those lips and feel her breasts against my chest.

“What?” she giggles nervously.

I stroke her cheek with my thumb. “Nothing.”

Then I close my eyes and brush her lips with mine. Bad idea. I know that. I’m surprised when Bobby groans. Her mouth opens for me, and my tongue strokes inside her. Fuck, her mouth is hot. Her body softens against mine; I wrap an arm around her waist as we kiss slowly…softer first, then forceful. My dick is throbbing, pushed against her belly. I start to rock against her, but then pull back, breathless.

“This okay?”

She laughs against my throat. “Yeah.”

“Sure?”

“You are my boss.”

I look down and find her smiling coyly.

“We shouldn’t do this, right?” I grin.

She rocks her hips against me—and that’s all I need. I fit my hand between us, stroking through the fabric of her dress as my tongue fucks her mouth. I feel her breath hitch then she starts to rub herself against my hand.

“Oh God,” she groans. I feel more than hear her little gasp before she shifts her hips away from my hand. “God.” Her voice quavers into a laugh as her eyes find mine. “And here I thought we came to your place to smoke pot.”

“We did.” I rub a hand over her hair, making her slightly smiling face look softer. “You want to smoke pot?” As I ask, I take her hand and guide it between my legs. The slight risk I took urging her to touch me is worth it when I see her eyes pop open wider.

Her fingers cup me as her mouth curves into an impish grin. “You’re bad, Mr. Anders…” Her cheeks redden as her fingers trace the rim of my head. “You’re bad,” she whispers, “but this is…nice.”

I press into her hand. “Just nice?” My voice is low. My dick is aching.

“Maybe more than nice,” she whispers.

Her hand is what’s nice. The way she strokes me through my shorts is making me pant. I can feel my balls tighten. I have to close my eyes and grit my teeth to keep from wrapping my hand around hers and showing her how I like to be stroked.

I don’t want to be an ass on our first not-date—but when I open my eyes, I see the lust in hers, and I decide for sure: Bobby’s going to get off before we smoke.

“Come here…” I feel a strange sensation as I lead her to the couch and urge her to sit down—a sense of anticipation that’s usually missing from these meaningless encounters. Something about her smile…especially when it’s shy like now. With a quick grin, I lift her legs onto the couch and stroke a hand up her thigh.

“We can smoke,” I tell her. “I just want dessert first…”

I check out the landscape underneath her skirt, finding a thong with my fingertips. Bobby smiles as I work my hand beneath the front of it, stroking a finger over her warmth.

“What do you think?” I trace her wet slit. “Can I have a taste?”

I see the hesitation in her eyes, that modesty some women have when a man wants to eat their pussy.

“Close your eyes. No strings.” I part her gently and lean down. “I just want to have a little snack, and then we’ll get as high as you want.”

Bobby squirms and gasps as I glide a finger in. I curl it, add another one, and close my teeth around the seam of her thong, hoping she’s not attached to it as I rip it, so I can drag my tongue slowly from cunt to clit.

“Ohhh!”

She arches underneath me, pressing her sweet pussy against my face, and God I think I’m going to come from just from the taste of her.

I circle her clit with my tongue, barely dragging all around, and then back to my fingers, which are pumping as she thrusts against them.

“Oh God...” She tugs my hair, writhing beneath me. “Tripp…” Her head is tipped back, breasts heaving as she pants and grinds and groans.

“So fucking hot,” I whisper to her pussy. She tastes good, and she feels tight and hot around my fingers.

Fuck—I feel precum leak into my boxer-briefs.

“You’re fucking beautiful.” I shift my hips, relieving pressure on my aching dick, and focus my tongue on her cunt until she’s pulling my hair hard enough to stop me from coming in my pants.

“Up…” She drags my face up to her clit. I smirk against it, brushing it with my lips. “Tripp!”

I laugh, because I like to hear her beg, and then I drag my tongue right where she wants it. Bobby grunts and squeezes tight around my fingers.

There is nothing better than the sound of a woman coming. Bobby giggles when she’s finished, as I draw my fingers out and lay my palm over her pussy. I watch her for a long moment, trying to place my feeling. Satisfaction—but it’s something more. The feeling she deserves this pleasure. She’s in a dark spot, I think, and this brightened it; I hope.

“Sorry about the thong.”

She sits up, leaning back on one arm as her eyes roll down me, stopping at my tented pants.

“It’s okay.” She smiles. “But…” She reaches for me, touching me through my shorts before dragging her palm down to my bare leg and snaking a hand inside.

Oh, fuck. She cups my balls, delving inside my boxer-briefs, and I’m so hard…

“Fuck.”

“You’re pretty big,” she murmurs. “A real big dick. I’m not surprised.” She smirks as she wraps her fingers around the base of me and strokes up.

“You know it,” I manage.

“Stretch out on your back.”

“You sure?”

“Of course.”

I can’t, though—can’t put any distance between her hand and my dick. My hand closes around her shoulder as she strokes my balls and pumps my dick, and then she stops and says, “C’mon…lay down.”

“You’re bossy.”

“You like it.”

I do what she says, and Bobby frees me from my shorts and boxer-briefs. Her tits look so big as she leans over and gives my head a lick.

“Is this okay?” she whispers.

“Oh yes,” I breathe.

She grips me at the base and takes me way down deep and tugs my balls, and I come harder than I maybe ever have.

* * *

“You probably have the best view in Longview,” Bobby says.

We’re on the balcony, with the lights off, standing underneath the moon and stars.

“I agree,” I say, and my leer makes it obvious I’m talking about her tits.

I watch said tits shake as Bobby smiles softly. She looks so fucking perfect right now—her hair is a mess, her body nothing but curves; her skin looks even softer in moonlight. I realize I’m holding my breath. I let it out slowly, so she doesn’t notice, then grab a cigarette. I light it, and Bobby says, “I want one.”

I shake one out and pass it to her, then my lighter. “I’m surprised.”

She shrugs. “Secondhand smoke is not my thing.” She lights her cigarette, takes a deep drag, and blows out a thick cloud of smoke. “First hand smoke is amazing.”

“But you’re not a smoker.”

She shakes her head. “Not anymore. But everyone used to smoke.”

“Quitters,” I grumble.

“Obviously. And you need to quit, too. It’s bad.”

“Never.”

“Well it is bad for you.”

I laugh. “Who are you trying to convince?”

“Myself, apparently.”

She takes another drag, smiling a Cheshire Cat grin, and I watch as her smoke and mine mingle above us. “I think enjoying myself is more important than living to eighty,” I say.

“If you don’t quit, you’ll be lucky to make it to seventy.”

I shrug. “At least I’ll have fun.”

“How many pleasures do you need?” She waves to my Volcano—the vaporizer we just used to get stoned.

“All of them.”

“Are you a hedonist?”

“Asks the stoned naked girl smoking a cigarette on my balcony.”

Bobby gives me a smile that’s coy, guilty, and proud, all at the same time.

“You’re fucking cute,” I tell her.

“You’re not.”

“No?”

“No way. Totally ugly. Honestly, impossible to look at.”

“Good thing you’ll forget all this tomorrow, mm?”

She leans her head against my arm, nodding as she inhales. “A good thing.”