She was close. I was getting there. Blue’s mouth opened, and her body went rigid. Her head snapped back when she came.
“Come here, now,” I ordered. Red scrambled up and hurried over. Still jerking my dick with one hand, I reached out with the other and grabbed Red’s wrist. I pulled her down to her knees, opening my legs. She fit right between, putting her hands on my thighs. I kept the momentum going until her warm mouth closed around the tip of my dick.
I let go and grabbed handfuls of her hair. I tipped my head back. Red was good. She took me in her mouth and down her throat. She moved fast, sucking hard, then let up. She cupped my balls and slipped one finger toward my asshole but didn’t stick it inside.
The tease turned me on.
I pushed her head down. I was ready to come. I wanted to come. She closed her lips around me and sucked hard as I came. I held her head down, keeping her mouth on my cock as it pulsed.
My heart had sped up and the blowjob was good, but it still felt forced. I sighed and let go of Red’s hair. She swallowed, batting her eyes and smiling at me.
“Go,” I said, dismissing the girls. They looked a little taken back by my urgency to see them leave. They had done their job; they weren’t needed anymore.
I stood while they got dressed, striding into the bathroom. I turned on the shower and sighed. There was a time when I could feel turned on just by looking at any girl. I could blow a load in any pussy and enjoy the fuck out of fucking.
Maybe I’d fucked too many girls. Now they all seemed the same. All bending too easily, doing whatever they were told. No one was a challenge. I missed that. I glanced in the mirror before stripping out of my clothes.
I was a good-looking man, and I say that not to boast, but honestly. I had tan skin, dark hair, and dark eyes. I looked like my father. I inherited more than my chick-magnet good looks from him; I inherited his drug and weapon empire.
And money.
A fucking lot of money. I had multiple houses, expensive cars, staff to wait on me, and the best of everything. Inheriting my last name was one of the best things I took from my father.
And sometimes the worst.
We, the Calaveras, were revered in Mexico. Our “family business” went back several generations. It had grown the most during my father’s time. I felt the pressure to uphold our name and keep the money coming in now that I was the boss.
It was stressful. Nobody told me that. No one warned me that everything fell on me, that I had to make sure things ran according to plan, to look for rats, that trusting anyone was a risk.
That was half of the reason I was here. This house, one of the many I owned, was my favorite. It was the smallest of the three but was in my hometown of Zihuatanejo. I felt at home. My mother’s grandparents had lived here, in a shitty-ass cottage on a wooded cliff that overlooked the ocean.
The house became even shittier until it was condemned. I bought it just for the property. I had the thing demolished and built the new house instead.
I quickly showered then went to the balcony off the master bedroom. The ocean view alone was what had made me go through the trouble of rebuilding on this piece of property. I could watch the waves for hours. I could stare at the dark water and forget everything if just for a moment. I liked being out on the water, seeing nothing but blue around me and feeling like nothing and nobody could catch me.
The sun was setting, reflecting a rainbow of brilliant colors onto the water, and I was hungry. I’d spent the day on the phone, making deals and negotiating prices. Along with setting up a warehouse here, I was expanding the business even farther into the States. It was a risk. Sometimes good things were worth the risk. The money doubled, and I made new business connections.
I grasped the railing and closed my eyes, remembering the way it felt to look at the ocean when I was just a boy. I knew what my father did back then, but it all seemed romanticized to me. The life of a drug lord was all play and no work, right?
Hah. Fuck that.
Now I longed to feel free, to be beguiled by the ocean like I had years ago. I was my father’s only son. I always knew the business would fall on my shoulders. In my teen years, I couldn’t wait. I’d throw around the family name like it was candy, using it to lure in girls and intimidate guys.
I thought being the boss meant fucking girls and sampling the merchandise whenever I wanted. I thought it would be endless parties and bottomless booze. I never knew there would be so much business to the business, that good drug kings didn’t do their own shit. I didn’t realize I would be plagued with paranoia all the time. I never thought I’d be so…so uptight.
I went to my bed and pulled off the comforter. Red had left her panties. The moment was gone, and now the lace lost its appeal.