Mendoza is the only person I trust to be discreet yet thorough about this. He won’t leave any stone unturned and I need that.
“Sure,” he shrugs. “But I’d like to meet this chick. She’s done the impossible.”
“What the fuck are you going on about?” I ask glaring in his direction.
He’s unfazed by my anger and sporting a knowing smile.
“I want to meet the woman who was able to break you.”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” I say flagging down the waitress for another round of drinks.
Mendoza leaves the bar an hour later to head home but we agree to meet up next week and discuss his findings.
I’m still at the bar, drinking and dealing with the realization of what I could be sacrificing for Grace.
If I abandon this assignment, I know without a doubt Brick will just hire someone else like me to finish the job and possibly come after me.
“Can I get you another drink, sweetheart?” the bartender’s husky voice breaks up my thoughts and I look at her over the rim of my glass.
She’s been annoyingly attentive all evening and it’s only gotten worse since Mendoza left.
I admire her slim build and simple features. She’s not unattractive. But she isn’t Grace, either.
Ms. Bartender’s tits are average sized, large enough to palm. And her lips are tinted with red lipstick, while her blonde hair is cut to frame her face.
But I find her lacking, through no fault of her own.
Grace isn’t fair competition for any woman.
Her full tits, tiny waist and round hips are simply perfection.
Perfection that I shouldn’t be fantasizing about in a bar when a perfectly acceptable woman is willing to fuck me.
It would be easy enough to take the bartender home and release the sexual frustration I’ve been harboring since I started this case but I won’t do it.
I have to admit that although I’ve never had Grace, I know Ms. Bartender won’t compare to the real thing.
“Can I get the check?” I ask after being buried in my thoughts.
“Sure, honey,” she says, wiping down the bar.
Moments later when I look at the check I see she’s scribbled her name and number near the bottom.
With a chuckle, I shake my head and toss cash on top of the piece of paper before walking out.
*****
At home, I sit on the edge of my bed scrolling through my phone.
I contemplate calling Grace but note the time. It’s 1:24 a.m.
She’s probably sleeping and even I know it would be rude to wake her up for my selfish reasons.
We haven’t spoken since our meeting on Monday and it’s now Thursday night. Well, Friday morning.
Still, my dick is in misery after thinking about her all night. The longing is starting to get to me. I need to be buried in Grace soon or I will explode.
My cock twitches at the play on words.
I’m in nothing but my boxers since my shower and when I look down I see my penis tenting against the fabric for release.
Grudgingly, I lower the waistband of my shorts and reach down to fist my shaft.
Glistening pre-cum is leaking from the tip and I haven’t done anything yet.
I give a slow, initial stroke and close my eyes as I imagine Grace on her knees in front of me doing the honors. I pictured her saliva slathered along the length, her mouth opened wide to accommodate the thickness.
My hand moves on its own accord, up and down, the pace quickening as I grow more aroused. With my feet planted firmly on the floor, I expertly jerk off as I settle into the fantasy of her sucking me off before climbing on top to ride me to orgasm.
Shortly after, I feel my gut tightening and the spasms start surging through every part of me.
“Ah, fuck Grace!” I shout as I come, white hot spurts of cum hitting my stomach.
***