Thread: A Father's Anger (FreeUse & Whisper Twice)

Tonight seems like it might turn out okay at The Elegant. If this man doesn't show, there are plenty of pretty boys hovering about to pay attention to me. I'm the kind of a woman people just want to be around. In high-school, the unfortunate girls called me Queen B. I have to give them some credit because they used B for Becks - how creative right? And then he walks in... Tall.. dark.. and hot.. Pictures really never do men justice, but this one... I will make a mental note to have his photographer sent back to Kinko's. The way that Italian suit 3k? maybe 4k? draped him in just that perfect way, and still tightened against him in all the right spots. Certainly this man is a panty-dropper. Will he be disappointed I forgot mine? I watched for the social cues that come with high society. There it was! When he asked the bartender for his drink. They way the bartender's eyes jerked down ever so slightly when talked to, like a puppy putting his tail between his legs at the bark of a rottweiler. He's coming over. How is my hair? I turn to a pretty boy only too see him and the others scooting off as though they all remembered something at once. Ah, weak men.. probably worried because they actually did remember to wear panties. I adjust as though I meant to sit forward, but I really am just sliding my skirt an inch okay two higher up my thigh. Men always check the paint before the engine when considering a Ferrari. I reach and take my drink from his hand. There is no need to ask, him to offer, or even a thank-you. Among alphas such practices are as trivial as two people nodding as they exchange shifts in the shoe store. I want to make sure my actions convey my own power that I am also a bright star and together we might burn a little hotter in the night sky. He opens his mouth and the silken husk of his words pour out like so much molten gold.. fuck bright star.. I am thinking supernova! His bold taking of my tag line and instead using it for his own, only making my heart jump faster and the fear of sweating becoming a possibility. But no, I stay cool on the surface. I'm built to be a winner and I always know what to do. A quick laugh so he thinks his joke was funny... but not too long, so he thinks it actually wasn't.. followed by the casual hair flip to say okay maybe a little. He sits down next to me and I watch as his suit glides like the skin of a puma. Annastacia Steele's inner goddess would be in cardiac arrest at the sight. Lucky I have an outer goddess myself. We begin to talk.. Some men need to be reminded where to keep their eyes, but with the hawk-like movement of his across my body, I knew no one had ever dared to tell him. My cheek, my breasts, the curve of my hip and down to the white porcelain of my slightly exposed thighs... I imagine him on Wall Street considering what kind of return to expect on his investment. The stories flow between us like beach waves at sunset. As the drinks warm us I switch my well honed timing to the funny ancedote cue. I share one of my favorites! The story of Kira More-Wetty. I have no clue what her actual last name was, but everyone called her More-Wetty because I found a way to spill orange juice on her pants every single day for a week. But I mess up the telling somehow. Did my slight giggle come out a laugh? The way the corner of his mouth shot up, almost snarl like, meant I missed a step in the formality of our informality. He's older.. of course he knows more of this game than me. A quick, smiling recovery drink as a counter-move and there... the sneer is gone. whew. His eyes have began to move in that predatory manner again. Didn't he already have enough to eat the first time he looked at me?