I took a sip of scotch. Mica’s legs went on for miles. I dragged my eyes up her lean frame. While not a God-given feature, her boobs were incredible. I finished what remained of my drink in one gulp. With my gaze fixed on the bulging mounds of flesh, I blindly poured the glass full.
I wondered what her father paid for her tits. I sipped the scotch. However much it was, they were worth it.
I realized halfway through my second glass of whiskey that I wasn’t physically aroused. Mentally, I was a devout admirer of the big-boobed coed. Physically, it appeared she did nothing for me.
I was as limp as a wet noodle.
Frustrated with my anatomy’s lack of interest, I imagined her lowering herself to her knees and begging me to stuff my cock in her mouth.
My dick didn’t so much as twitch.
Although fucking Mica was out of the question, I needed to know if I’d somehow become impotent. Normally, thinking about sex aroused me.
Assuming my subconscious mind was elsewhere, I decided to give the verbal path a try. Talking about it always brought my dick to full attention.
“You think you want to fuck, huh?” I asked over the rim of my glass.
She hopped onto the kitchen island. Her endless legs dangled over the edge. She wagged her knees back and forth in an obvious effort to entice me. “I know I do.”
I gave her a flippant look. “You’re young enough to be my daughter.”
She squeezed her breasts together with the inside of her biceps. Her tanned flesh bulged out of the skimpy top.
Seeming surprised at her accomplishment, she smirked. “I’ll call you daddy if that’s what you want.”
Despite her efforts—and the wayward sexual conversation—my limp dick remained completely disinterested.
I downed the scotch and set the glass aside. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
I pounded the back of my clenched fist against Anna’s door. After a short wait, it opened.
Dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a wrinkled tee shirt, Anna stood just inside the doorway. Her curly hair was gathered into a tangled mess that sat atop her head. Cradling a nearly empty glass of wine in her hand, she looked me up and down.
“Well, that didn’t take you long,” she said upon meeting my gaze. “What happened?” She gulped what remained of the wine. “Did she have a curfew?”
“She’s a client.”
She wiped the corner of her mouth with the heel of her palm. “Catering to half-naked teens now?”
“She’s twenty-two,” I retorted.
She coughed a dry laugh. “In dog years, maybe.”
I had no desire to bicker with her about Mica. Determining if I had erectile disfunction was my only concern. Instead of beating around the bush, I decided to get right to it. Knowing a verbal exchange would suffice, that’s the direction I traveled.
I gave her a quick look and then met her glassy-eyed glare. “I want you to suck my cock.”
My dick twitched at the thought of Anna complying with the request. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
“Fuck you,” she said, eyeing me as she spoke. “Suck my cock.”
My gaze narrowed. “You don’t have a—”
The door slammed shut.
Amused by her apparent jealousy—and her feisty mood—I rang the doorbell. Following a lengthy wait, it opened.
Eager to determine if the twitch was a fluke, I decided to start with an apology and go from there. After a few more sexually suggestive comments, I’d know for sure if I was broken or merely subconsciously uninterested in Mica.
“Listen,” I began. “I’m sorry I started off like that. It’s just…I was trying to—”
“Take off your pants.” She gestured toward my crotch with a freshly filled glass of wine. “Get your big cock out.”
Like a rocket, my dick shot from its flaccid state. Thrilled that everything seemed to be in working order—but unwilling to disrobe at her command—I met her drunken gaze with a stern glare. “I’m not whipping out my—”
The door swung closed with a thump!
Slightly irritated—but thoroughly amused—I knocked on the door.
It opened.
Clutching the doorknob in one hand and her wine glass in the other, Anna took a drink. She lowered the glass, sloshing wine at her feet in the process. “I’ve got little use for you other than sex.” She stepped to the side and gestured toward the living room. “You can either come in and get busy or go back to your teenage bikini model.”
“I can’t—”
“Can’t come in, or can’t go back to the twenty-two-year-old?”
I pressed my palm against the door to prevent her from slamming it shut in my face. “Can’t come in.”
“Why?”
“I’m not going to leave her over there by herself.”
“Afraid she needs help posting selfies to Instagram?” she asked in a sarcastic tone.
“She’s a client,” I said. “And she’s alone in my home.”
“Why’d you come here?” she asked.
I wasn’t willing to admit I had an erectile disfunction, even if it appeared to only be applicable to Mica. Explaining the “I want you to suck my cock” declaration I’d made wasn’t going to be easy.
“I wanted to antagonize you,” I said, although it wasn’t true. “I’m sorry. It was uncalled for.”
“You’re a prick.”
“Actually, I’m not as bad as it might—”
“You weren’t that good, anyway,” she said under her breath. She pushed against the door. “Forget it.”
She was much stronger than I expected. I braced the edge of the door with my foot and then looked right at her. “Excuse me!?”
She gave me a flippant look. “Forget it.” She gulped her wine. “I’ll finger myself. It’ll be just as satisfying.”
“Just as satisfying as what?”
“As satisfying as sex.” She gave me a quick once-over. “With you, at least.”
“Drunk or not,” I warned. “You need to watch your tone.”
She peered down her nose at me. “Or what?”
I edged my way inside. I faced her and crossed my arms over my chest. “Or else.”
As if thoroughly entertained by my remark, she chuckled. “Now that you’re in here, I’m going to fuck you.” She stepped around me and kicked her bare foot against the door. “My way.”
The door slammed closed.
She wasn’t going to do anything of the sort. Nevertheless, my attention was piqued by her remark. I followed her with my eyes as she walked in front of me.
“Your way?” I asked.
“We had sex in the parking lot your way.” She shifted the wine glass from her right hand to her left. “Now, it’s my turn.”
She was so close I could taste the sweetness of the wine on her breath. Her alcohol-induced courage was cute. No differently than Mica, she wasn’t going to coerce me into having sex. I was far too strong-willed to succumb to her drunken advances.
Besides. I had a $1,000 bet on the line.
“You’re not getting a turn,” I insisted. “We agreed it was a one-time thing.”