“Honey, it’s time for you to pick up on family traditions,” she said, serious for once in her life. “We’re vixens and even if you look like an Irish lass, you still have my hot Spanish blood coursing through you.”
I rolled my eyes.
“What does that mean, Mom?” I asked, exasperated. I really wanted her to leave, I wanted to get back to my daydreams of my hot stepdad again.
“It means, honey, that it’s time for you to see the Donkey Club,” she said, shooting me a sly smile. “To learn about men, we always start at the Donkey.”
What? What was that? It sounded like some kind of lame kids’ playhouse with Mickey Mouse as its leader.
Seeing my befuddled expression, my mom laughed.
“No baby, the Donkey Club is a gentlemen’s club in the City. I’ll take you. Some of my old contacts might still be around.”
Internally I lurched back in horror but tried not to show it, instead keeping my expression frozen.
“Um, Mom, I’m not the right girl,” I said tightly. “A gentlemen’s club? In the city? It’s just not me, I like it here on Long Island with the trees and birds and big lawns. Besides, why? Why a gentlemen’s club?”
“Oh honey, lighten up,” scolded my mom. “Drake’s comment about you being so beautiful made me think, that’s all,” she said nonchalantly. “It’s time for you to come out to the City with me, girls’ night and all that. You’ll like it, I promise.”
I hesitated. I’m ashamed to admit but after everything that’s happened, I still craved Lorena’s love. Even knowing that my mom was the champion of bad decision-making, that she always prioritized herself above anybody else, when I heard the words “girls’ night,” I immediately thought that maybe, just maybe, Lorena wanted to spend quality time together.
“You mean, like you and me, together, for a night?” I asked tentatively. I hated the slightly begging tone in my voice, hated myself even as I felt my heart lurch faster. Maybe this could be an opportunity for us to bond a little, develop some mother-daughter kinship.
“Of course baby, it’ll be you and me like best friends,” purred Lorena. “It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”
And so it was set. I had a date to explore the City with my mom … at a place called the Donkey.
CHAPTER SIX
Cleo
The sexual tension between Drake and I was thick as a knife, although I hadn’t talked him since our interlude in his office. But I could feel his eyes glued to my body whenever we passed each other in the hallway, whenever I happened to brush up against him walking by. He’d grow hard, his body stiffening, streaks of color slashed across his cheeks, but he never stopped to talk.
Meanwhile, I was getting desperate, my body on fire, dying for the big man. I twisted and turned in my bed at night, re-living our conversation in the den. How did he know I wasn’t ready? How could Daddy make that decision for me?
One night when I was feeling especially frustrated, I got up and stormed into the study where Drake sat at his desk, his head snapping up when I banged open the door.
“Daddy, I’m ready,” I said. No further explanation was needed, he knew exactly what I was talking about. But Drake didn’t move a muscle.
“Shut the door Cleo,” he said calmly, his big body giving nothing away.
Once the door was shut, he turned to me.
“What do you want, Cleo?” he rumbled, looking at me, his eyes running up and down my curves. And I blushed then because I was wearing just the thinnest whispers of cotton, a tiny tank and bootie shorts, the tank so sheer that my luscious curves were on full display, my nipples poking out. And the sleep shorts were so short that you could see the bottom curves of my ass hanging out, jouncing this way and that.
“Daddy, I want you!” I said petulantly. “I want you, I want you in my body!”
Drake didn’t react immediately, instead looking at me calmly, those cool blue eyes assessing, in total control.
“You want it, little girl?” he asked. “How bad?”
I was stumped for a second. What to say to this? All of a sudden, inspiration hit.
“So bad Daddy, that I’ll let you take my pussy cherry and my ass cherry,” I said coyly, causing Drake to hiss slightly, a hard gleam coming into his eyes.
“I see,” he rumbled, still not moving although I could see a tent at his crotch now, the fabric of his pants straining, his cock dying to get out. “And which one would you like popped first?”
First? I thought dumbly. But suddenly I was elated with joy. If Drake was asking me which one I wanted first, then it meant he was going to take me, I was going to feel his huge penis inside, my virginity gone.