Rescue the Barista

mine. Forever.
“Okay. I understand,” I tell her. “I’ll have to see you later with the rest of the money,” I take out my phone. “I’m sending you my address. Can you be there at nine?”

Chapter 11 Angelo
My home is a perfect movie-star pad and it looks at its romantic and seductive best on a winter evening. The moon hangs fat and low over the hills out back. Wind stirs the bushes and the lights in the pool make it shimmer.
I have red wine open, perfectly aired in a crystal decanter. Soft music and low lights, all cued up and ready. Some tasty nibbles, all set out on the table, in the soft light by the patio doors. Vines hang from the pergola outside, spotlit and framing the pool.
She arrives, still in her work clothes. I guess she’s telling me how it’s meant to be. She wants to get straight to business.
“What’s the hurry? You had a long enough day. I’m here to make all your problems go away. Did you get straight with your supplier?”
“I did.”
“So. Relax a moment. Have a glass of wine.” I at least manage to steer her to the table. I pour wine into two big goblet glasses. Just an inch and a half in the bottom of the glass. It looks so good, she softens. A little. She raises a glass and says, “Thank you.”
“To good business,” I toast. She takes a sip. It’s a fantastic Barolo. I know she’s going to love it. She does savor the taste before she puts the glass down.
“Are you going to make me beg for the money?”
“I am going to make you beg. But, no, not for the money. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“What, then? What will you make me beg for?”
“You’ll have to beg me to let you call me ‘Daddy.’ You’ll have to beg me to spank you, because you’ve been bad. Then, you’ll have to beg me to fuck your little brains out.”
She sighs. “None of that is going to happen.” She does smile, though. I wonder if she can feel how serious I am. The spark in her eye makes me think she does feel it. She presses her lips together as she shifts her weight.
I tell her, “No rush. The money’s in that envelope, out by the pool,” I draw her to the window. “Take it whenever you like.”
“I can go out and take it? Right now?”
“Of course.”
She looks at me a moment before she steps out to the side of the pool. I follow her. The envelope is on the edge of the pool, by the couch and the table. As she stoops to pick up the envelope and slip it into her pocket, she pauses. The patio is heated. It brings up the scent of lavender on the air.
She looks up to me. “I do want you to fuck me, Angelo.”
“I know.” I don’t move. I stand over her, holding my wineglass.
“I came here determined not to let that happen.” I can’t help smiling at that.
“Yeh. I know that, too.”
“But I do want it.” She stands. Close. I don’t move. She comes nearer.
“Are you really going to make me beg?”
“Yes.”
“Angelo, I want it. I want it really bad.” She leans up against me. Stretches up. Holds the back of my head to plant a kiss. I kiss her back, but I’m determined to restrain myself. That works. For about two seconds. I put the glass on a ledge, then I’m holding her. Pulling her to me. Kissing her. My tongue all over hers. Her body writhes and presses as she squeezes against me.
She breaks away, moving back a fraction of an inch. I feel her lips still almost touching mine as she says, “I want you to fuck me, Angelo.”
“I know.”
“Fuck me, you fucker.” She kisses me again. With force. “Fuck me!”
I feel an evil grin spread over my face as I tell her, “You know you’ve been bad.”
“I do. I’ve been bad.”
“Have you?” The light in her eyes is setting me on fire. My cock is so hard right now, it’s huge. My hands and my chest tingle. My pulse hammers. I only thought the begging and ‘Call me Daddy’ thing as a bit of extra spice. A game for some added fun. But I can tell she’s as hot for it as I am. I hit a button. I allow myself a congratulation. Instinct, Angelo.
“What does a bad girl get?”
“Fucked?”
“First?”
She hesitates. “Can I call you ‘Daddy’?”
My grin deepens.
“Please?” her voice shakes. “Please let me call you ‘Daddy’, Angelo. Please.”
I make her wait. Then I nod.
“Daddy, will you fuck me, please?”
I lift an eyebrow and look into her face.
“Please, punish me Daddy. And then fuck me. Please.”
I sit on the couch. Point to my knee. I don’t know how long I can keep a straight face. She’s serious and having fun, too. I can feel it. Her scent is intoxicating me right now.
She bends. A spark dances in her eyes. She’s smiling-not-smiling. She leans across my thigh. She’s looking at the bulge in my pants. I give her a quick smack on her ass.
“Naughty. You can look, but don’t touch.”
“Can’t I suck it, Daddy?”
I lay my hand on the soft globe of her ass, right where I struck her. Heat still rises from the soft spot of flesh under her thin pants.
“I’ve been very bad, Daddy.” Her voice is soft.
I hold her ass, building her anticipation and mine. Then I make a swift, firm smack. She yelps. My hand stays in place. Her skin is even more sexy, hot and zinging from the slap. Heat rises from between her thighs, too.
I spank her. Hard. She squirms. Her gasps grow louder