Jessa James - The Baby Mission

I lean back with a sigh. I can admit it, I’m anxious for Cady to show up.

Inside, the decor is all brocade and velvet, the lighting dim. It’s a hook-up bar, you can tell by the Victorian furnishings and the price of the drinks.

I sip the old-fashioned I’ve been nursing, draining the last watered down drops. I check my watch, but she’s not even supposed to be here yet.

Why did I decide to come here early? I ask myself for the third time.

But I know why. Why do I do anything? Because I’m a horny prick, that’s why.

I glance out the window, and this time I see Cady. I whistle to myself.

Hot damn.

The first time I saw her, she was dressed up, probably for work. Tonight, though, she’s wearing this incredible red sheath dress, leaving her arms bare. I slide my gaze up and down her figure, particularly the fucking miles of legs she’s showcasing.

She doesn’t see me when she comes to a halt outside. I take a moment to glance at her patrician features, her arched nose, plump lips, and high cheekbones. She runs her hand over her hair, which is tucked neatly back.

She really is so fucking beautiful. I go ahead and just adjust where my cock lies in my jeans, because it’s going to want to stand at full attention soon.

Cady runs her hands down her dress, smoothing it. I see her take a breath, and then she pulls the front door open. I swivel a little, so that she can’t tell that I was staring at her through the window.

“Hey,” I say when she spots me. I stand up. “You made it.”

She blushes and stands beside me. “I did.”

“How about a hug? It’s important to keep touch a part of our relationship,” I joke.

A faint pink tinges her cheeks, but she opens her arms to my embrace, pressing her body against mine. She’s so much smaller than I am, almost delicate in my arms. That thought leads me to thinking of what she would look like under me, or on top of me, moaning my name.

My cock comes to full attention. I release her and step back quickly.

“Here, come sit. We have a waitress…” I tell her, shepherding her to my little corner booth with one hand on the small of her back. I look around, and signal the waitress.

The fashionable young woman serving us comes over. She’s got curly blonde ringlets, a black leather dress, and some rather interesting tattoos.

If I wasn’t so busy trying to fuck Cady, I would sure as shit be talking to her.

“You need to see a menu?” she asks Cady.

I see Cady take the waitress in, but I can’t read any reaction. What is she hiding? I wonder.

“I’ll have a vodka and soda with extra lime,” Cady says.

“I’ll have another old-fashioned,” I say with a smile.

As the waitress heads to the bar, I see that look on Cady’s face again. The same calculating look as before, only this time it’s about the interaction I just had with the waitress. I’m not sure what she’s thinking, but I’d rather not risk it.

I need some questions, to distract us both.

“Alright. Quick facts about me,” I say. Her dark grey gaze is on me now, so intent that it almost burns.

“Oh?” she says, arching a brow.

“Yes. I was born in Asheville, North Carolina. My parents are a contractor and a school teacher. I have one brother, who is younger by two years.” I pause for a moment. “I’m thirty five years old, and I think I already told you what my job is.”

“Yes, you did,” she says, leaning back against the bench. She sweeps a lock of raven hair behind her ear. I think to myself that she looks like a model, with her red lipstick and slicked back hair.

“Give me your quick facts,” I suggest. “You know, so that our ‘relationship’ can continue.”

She smiles at my use of air quotes.

“Fair enough. I was born in Santa Fe. I…” she says, then falters. “I grew up in the foster care system, bounced around from home to home. I’m thirty three, and I already told you my job too.”

“An attorney, right?” I ask.

“Mmmhm. A civil litigator,” she affirms.

I notice that when she shifts, she gives me a shot of her cleavage. I’m not one to complain about a thing like that, though. The waitress brings the drinks, and I don’t even look at her.

I see the tiniest moment of satisfaction in her smile. Bingo , I think. So you like being the center of attention, huh?

I hide my grin behind my drink. She takes a sip of hers, leaving a perfect red lipstick mark on the rim of the glass.

“Did you hear anything out of your ex?” she asks.

My ex? I think back to last night, and then remember what I told her. I lied about Emily being there, but I doubt that Cady cares.

“Not a word. You really did me a favor,” I say, moving a little closer. I’m almost touching her arm. The next step is to casually put my arm around her shoulder.

Soon.

“I’ll have to remember that,” she says, flashing me a smile. “For blackmail.”

I grin. “Definitely. Feel free to extort anything you want from me. I’m all yours.”

“Is that right?” she says, blushing prettily.

“Oh yeah. I’m a really good guy to… you know. Know,” I say with a wink.

“I see. So if I asked the waitress and the bartender how many girls you’ve brought in here before…”

Busted . So she had noticed what type of bar this was, then.

“I plead the fifth on that one,” I say, raising my right hand.

“Yeah, I get a Tinder date kind of vibe from this place. Like I wouldn’t want to sit down unless I was wearing panties, just to be safe,” she jokes.

“So you’re wearing panties, then?” I say, grinning wolfishly. I can’t help but tease her. She brings it out in me more than usual.

She looks embarrassed. “Maybe.”

I casually stretch my arms, and then slide one around her shoulders and move a hair closer. Her pert breast and lush hip are touching my arm and leg. She looks up at me with those big grey eyes. Her perfectly plump red lips are a temptation.

Soon .

“Let me guess,” I say. “A pair of lacy boy shorts? Or… no, I’ve got your number. A teeny, tiny black thong.”

She blushes all the way to the roots of her hair.

“A lady doesn’t talk about her undergarments in public.”

I lean close to her ear, whispering. “I’ll find out sooner or later, though. Won’t I?”

I wish I could take a photograph of her expression in that moment. The combination of perfect shock and suppressed lust is writ large across her face.

It almost breaks my heart when she turns away, gulping her drink down. But I am a step closer to figuring out what makes her tick. I think she likes a little dirty talk, which has me even harder than before.

I relax, keeping my arm around her, and change the subject. We talk about my tattoos, and a little about our jobs.

She seems relieved, though I notice that the tension isn’t gone from her body. We talk a bit, order more drinks. I tease her, and she blushes.

I like the way I can make her flush again and again. It makes me wonder about her face when she orgasms. I’m willing to bet that she has the most amazing O face.

I’m planning on finding out firsthand what it looks like, tonight.

I’m a little distracted by looking at her body as we chat. Her legs are smooth and toned, every inch that she’s displaying perfect. I usually go for short women, but Cady’s long legs have got me thinking of all the positions I want to put her in.

Would she ride me like a stallion, or would she like me to fuck her from behind?

And don’t even get me started on her tits. She’s bustier than most of the women I date, and I imagine her bare breasts are absolutely, jaw-droppingly fantastic.