Chapter 1: Introduction
Steve had been married for over 30 years, but his marriage ultimately ended in divorce. He made a conscious decision not to remarry. For the next 20 years he used professional ladies to satisfy his sexual needs – hookers and massage parlour prostitutes. But there was something missing. The professional ladies Steve saw were only interested in his money, not in him.
Eventually he decided he needed to try something different. He wanted to find a woman who enjoyed sex as much as he did, and who was interested in him, not in hoe much he could pay or spend.
Finally Steve decided to place an advertisement for a female sexual partner on an adult contact website. After considerable thought he drafted his advertisement.
“Well hung 70-year-old man seeks fuckbuddy
My ideal fuckbuddy would be aged between 40 and 70 and would enjoy oral and vaginal intercourse. She would have long hair (or a wig) and would wear a lot of makeup.
Professional ladies need not apply.
Contact Steve via email if interested at rootrat70@gmail.com
I look forward to hearing from interested ladies and am happy to answer any questions you may have.”
When he was satisfied with the content of his advertisement, Steve hit “SEND.”
Having posted his advertisement on an adult contact website, Steve waited to see what would happen. The days passed, and Steve began to think that he was wasting his time. His cottage hummed with the quiet rhythm of a man who had given up on surprises.
Steve sat at his kitchen table, the morning light filtering through the faded curtains, casting long shadows across the Formica kitchen. The cup of coffee in front of him had gone cold, forgotten as he scrolled through the latest messages on his laptop. Another week, another cycle of polite but detached replies from the professional ladies he’d grown weary of. Their efficiency was impressive, but where was the hunger? The unpredictability? The desire?
Then he saw the email that had just popped up on his screen, bold and unapologetic, the subject line reading:
"70 going on desperate? Let’s fix that."
Steve’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. His first instinct was to delete it—some younger woman looking to cash in on his situation, no doubt. But something kept him there, curiosity threading through his exhaustion.
He clicked.
The message was short, direct, and unfiltered:
"Hey Steve, or whatever the hell your name is. Saw your ad—‘enthusiastic amateurs only.’ Well, sweetheart, I’m as enthusiastic as they come. And I don’t do desperate—I help it. Let’s grab a coffee.”
“You pick the place. I’ll bring the enthusiasm—and the condoms. No strings, no bullshit. Just two people who know what they want.”
Steve exhaled through his nose, a sound somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. Of course it’d be her—some woman who cut straight to the chase with the confidence of a woman who knew exactly what she was worth. He should’ve known better than to expect anything less from an amateur.
But God help him, he was intrigued.
"The condoms are a nice touch," he replied. "I like the way you think!"
The café Steve chose for the meeting with his mystery lady was a very nondescript place. Steve had chosen it not for comfort, but for neutrality.
The Golden Key Cafe was the kind of place where retirees sipped decaf and teenagers sneaked kisses in the back booths—no one cared who you were or what you did, as long as you ordered something and left a tip. He sat at a corner table near the window, nursing an untouched mocha, his knuckles tapping lightly against the chipped ceramic cup.
Five past the hour. Five past. Five past. Steve was always five minutes early. Tardiness annoyed him.
He refused to check his watch again, but the habit was ingrained. Then the café door opened.
A gust of air rushed in, carrying with it the scent of rain and something else—something sharp, like citrus and a woman who knew exactly how to command a room with nothing but the sway of her hips.
Steve caught his breath.
Kim was tall—taller than he’d expected, her long blonde hair falling over her shoulders. The kind of hair that made a man wonder what it’d feel like to run his hands through it.
Her curves were generous—soft in all the right places, but with a firmness in her stance that suggested strength. She wore a sleeveless blouse in some deep wine colour, the fabric clinging just enough to hint at the weight of her breasts, the nip of her waist. A leather jacket was draped over one arm, her hips swaying with the unmistakable rhythm of a woman who moved like she owned every space she stepped into.
Steve’s fingers tightened around his coffee cup. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring until she locked eyes with him from across the room.
Her gaze was slow and deliberate, assessing him with a smirk that suggested she’d already decided he was worth her time—and possibly more. She didn’t just walk toward him; she glided, her hips rolling in a way that made his cock stir. By the time Kim reached the table, Steve’s cock was already half-hard in his trousers, his pulse thrumming in his throat.
Kim dropped into the chair across from him. Her blouse clung tightly to her chest, the fabric straining over her nipples—already hard, already begging for attention. She tossed the jacket onto the back of her chair, her fingers trailing up her own arm with a slow, possessive touch that made Steve’s mouth go dry.
“So,” she said, her voice low, rough around the edges like gravel and whiskey. “You’re Steve.”
Steve swallowed, forcing his gaze away from the way her blouse dipped just enough to reveal the swell of her cleavage. “And you’re… Kim, I take it.”
Kim grinned, leaning forward just enough that he caught the scent of vanilla and something darker, something that made his blood hum. “The one and only. Pleasure to meet you, Steve.” Kim’s voice was smooth, dripping with confidence.
She reached out, her fingers brushing his wrist before sliding up his forearm, her nails lightly scraping through the fine sprinkle of Steve's silver hair. “Though I already feel like I know you from your ad.”
Steve caught his breath once again. The contact was electric—her skin was warm, her grip firm, like she was already mapping territory she intended to claim. He should have been embarrassed by how quickly his body responded, but instead, he leaned into the sensation, his cock throbbing painfully against the inside of his trousers.
He wanted her to feel it—wanted her to know just how much he wanted her.
"I already feel like I know you too," Steve admitted, his voice rough. He didn't know what else to say. Words had never failed him before, but now they deserted him completely as her hand slid up his arm, her nails digging lightly into his skin.
Kim’s laugh was a low, throaty sound, and it sent a jolt of heat straight to his groin. “Relax, Steve,” she murmured, her fingers trailing up to his shoulder, squeezing possessively. “I’m not here to eat you alive. Not yet anyway.”
Steve laughed.
He couldn’t remember the last time any woman had touched him like this. Not with such casual authority, as if he were already hers to command. His cock throbbed, pressing insistently against the zipper of his trousers, and he shifted in his seat, suddenly too aware of how tight his pants had become.
Kim’s eyes flicked down, her smirk deepening as she caught the movement. “Mmm, seems I'm already having an effect on you,” she purred, her fingers trailing back down his arm before slipping off entirely. She sat back in her chair, crossing her legs slowly, the hem of her dress riding up just enough to flash a teasing glimpse of thigh.
“Tell me Steve, do you always get this aroused just from sitting across from a woman in a café?” Kim asked, her voice dipping into something sultry and dark, her eyes locking onto the unmistakable bulge in his trousers. She licked her lips, her tongue tracing the curve of her bottom lip in a slow, deliberate motion that made Steve’s cock twitch.
Steve recovered quickly. "Only when the woman sitting across the table from me is drop dead gorgeous," he replied.
"Which you are."
Kim let out a throaty chuckle, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed beneath her breasts, pushing them up in a way that made Steve's cock ache from just looking at them. "Flattery? Really? Tell me, Steve, you're not some kind of silver fox gigolo are you?"
Steve laughed. "No Kim, I'm not. But when a woman has the effect on me that you have, I think the least I can do is acknowledge it."
Kim's eyes darkened, her lips curling into a wicked smile. "Well, I like an older man with a hard-on and a bit of get up and go." Kim's fingers teased the hem of her skirt once more as she met Steve’s gaze head-on, her expression a mix of challenge and invitation. Kim just oozed sexuality.
Steve's hand shot out across the table, gripping Kim's wrist before she could pull away. His grip wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t gentle either; he needed her to know he wasn’t some harmless old man playing at seduction. He could take what she offered. Demanded, even.
Steve’s thumb pressed into the soft flesh of her inner wrist, right over the pulse that hammered beneath her skin. Not enough to bruise—but enough to remind her he wasn’t a pushover. Enough to make her pupils dilate, her breath caught just slightly before she smirked up at him, defiant and ripe with hunger.
"Ohhh, someone’s got a little bite in him," Kim purred, her voice dropping into something low and dangerous. "I like that." She didn’t pull away. Didn’t even flinch.
The woman was made of something steel and unbreakable, and Steve found himself half-hard just from that one small act of defiance.
He looked down at their joined hands—his, veined and gnarled with age, gripping her delicate wrist while her own fingers curled slightly, nails digging into the soft flesh of her palm. She wanted this. Wanted him. He could smell it on her now—the musk of arousal, the sharp bite of anticipation.
"Sorry Kim, I'm forgetting myself," Steve said, breaking the tension. "What can I get you?" he asked.
Kim's gaze never wavered from Steve, who still held her wrist like it belonged to him.
Steve finally released her, but his fingers lingered for a moment before trailing slowly down her arm, savouring the soft feel of her skin. "Black coffee," Kim said without breaking eye contact. "Strong. No sugar."
Steve called the waitress over and ordered a strong black coffee for Kim and a mocha with two sugars for himself.
Kim's focus stayed locked on Steve, her eyelids heavy, her lips parted just enough that he could see the tip of her tongue dart out to wet them. She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs again—this time deliberately slow, the hem of her skirt riding up to reveal the smooth, tan line of her thigh, the hint of lace peeking from the edge of her panties.
Steve’s cock pulsed again, his trousers suddenly feeling like a vice. He wanted to tear that blouse open, to get his hands on Kim's ample breasts. Then he wanted to bury his face between her legs and breathe in the scent of her, to taste her until she was panting his name.
Instead, he tried to focus on the way the light caught the curve of her neck, the way her pulse fluttered at the hollow of her throat. It didn’t work. His cock was a steel rod, pressing insistently against the zipper of his trousers, begging for release.
"You know," Kim said, her voice low and rough, "I've been sitting here trying not to stare at your cock."
"Well, it's good to know I've made an impression," Steve replied. "I've got no problem with you staring at my cock Kim. In fact I’m quite flattered by the attention.”
Steve's tone made Kim's thighs clench. He leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed but his eyes burning with intent as he watched her reaction.
Kim lost her composure, her fingers tightening around the edge of the table. The air between them was thick with sexual tension. Steve could feel Kim's need—practically taste it.
Steve decided it was time to get back to basics. This meeting was intended to give Steve and Kim the opportunity to get to know each other. So far Steve had learnt little about Kim. He decided to change that. "Tell me something about yourself Kim," Steve said. "I'd really like to get to know you better, and this seems like the right time and place to do that."
"Where are you from?"
Kim exhaled sharply, her lips curling into a smirk as she relaxed back into her chair, though her eyes never left Steve’s. "Born and raised in Miranda," she said, trailing a finger along the rim of her coffee cup. "Rich kid turned wild child turned… well, let’s just say I’ve been around the block more times than I can count."
Steve raised an eyebrow. "Well Kim, you look fucking hot for someone who’s been around the block more times than she can count.”
Kim let out a low, throaty laugh, her fingers circling the rim of her cup before she pulled it toward her and took a slow sip, her eyes locked on Steve over the rim.
"So what attracted you to my ad Kim?" Steve asked, trying to extract more information from his enigmatic companion. He was curious about what had drawn a woman like Kim to his advertisement.
Kim set her coffee down with a deliberate clink, her tongue darting out to catch a stray drop from the corner of her mouth. She wiped her fingers slowly down the side of the cup, her gaze never leaving Steve’s.
"If you're looking for a sob story about a divorcée drowning in empty nest syndrome, you're barking up the wrong tree," Kim said, her voice a low purr. "I tried that. I didn’t like it."
Steve chuckled, rubbing his thumb along the edge of his coffee cup. "So what’s the real reason you were attracted to my ad?"
Kim leaned forward, her blouse straining against her chest as she pressed closer. Her voice dropped to a husky whisper.
"I got tired of fucking men who treated me like a half-used toy," she said, her fingers trailing up Steve’s forearm again, nails scraping just enough to make him shiver. "Men who wanted a quick ride and a one-star review. So I made a list."
Steve exhaled through his nose, his pulse quickening. "A list?"
"A list of men who know the difference between taking and receiving," Kim purred, her thumb now pressing into the soft flesh of his palm.
"Men who understand that pleasure isn’t something you take—it’s something you earn."
Steve could feel the heat of Kim’s body through his clothes, could see the way her nipples stiffened beneath her blouse, the dark circles of her areolae pressing against the fabric.
"Who’s on this list of yours?" Steve asked.
Kim smirked, her fingers trailing up his arm, nails dragging lightly over his skin. "Oh, Steve," she said, her voice a low, filthy drawl.
"Right now, you're the only man on my list."
Steve exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening around hers as the caffeine and pure adrenaline coursed through his veins. He didn't break eye contact, his gaze burning into hers like he was memorizing every curve of her face, the way her bottom lip quivered just slightly when she spoke, the way she caught her breath when his grip tightened.
"I'm flattered," Steve replied. "But clearly I need to know what I need to do to "earn" pleasure." Steve replied.
Kim’s smirk turned feral, her teeth flashing white as she dragged her teeth over her bottom lip.
"Oh, Steve," she crooned, squeezing his hand before pulling away with a slow, deliberate slide of her fingers, "I think you already know."
The tension between them mounted, the café’s chatter and clinking cups fading into nothing but white noise. Steve’s cock was aching, throbbing against his zipper, begging for release. He didn’t bother hiding it - instead he let Kim see the effect she had on him.
Kim’s gaze dropped to his lap, her eyes darkening with hunger before meeting his again. “You know how to make a woman feel wanted Steve,” she murmured.
"Do you have any questions for me Kim? Steve asked.
Kim's gaze darkened, her tongue darting out to trace her bottom lip as she considered his question. She had been looking forward to this moment—wanting to know every naughty detail about the man across from her.
"Oh, Steve," she purred, leaning back in her chair, her fingers drumming lightly against the table. "I’ve got a few."
Steve exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening around his coffee cup as his pulse hammered in his throat. He was ready. Ready for whatever she wanted to ask. Ready for whatever she wanted to know. "Well Kim, now's your chance, ask away," Steve said.
"I want you to know all about me, after all, that's why we're here isn't it Kim? To get to know each other."
Kim’s grin was slow and wicked, her fingers curling around the handle of her coffee cup as she leaned forward just enough to let Steve catch the scent of her skin—vanilla, sweat, and something raw and feminine.
“Tell me,” she murmured, “how many times a day do you jerk off thinking about fucking some stranger?”
Steve didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even blink. "I don't jerk off very day Kim, more like a couple of times a week. Usually once, sometimes twice," he admitted. "It depends on how badly I need sexual release."
Kim’s pupils widened. A slow, wicked smile curled her lips as she set her cup down with a soft clink. "I see," she said.
“And what exactly do you think about, Steve? When you’re all alone with your cock in your hand, staring up at the ceiling like a lost old pervert?”
Steve exhaled sharply. He wasn’t about to bullshit her. Not now. Not with her staring at him like she already owned his fantasies.
"Well Kim, I can assure you I don’t stare at the ceiling like a lost old pervert. “I watch pornography whenever I can, and I imagine I'm fucking the women in the porn videos I'm watching. And those women are women like you,” he admitted. “Women who take what they want. Women who—” He paused, his voice dropping. “Women who seek men out, who demand their attention, and get it.”
Kim’s fingers tightened around her coffee cup. Her lips parted slightly as she listened to Steve’s confession. The air between them was thick with raw, unfiltered need—no pretences, no bullshit. Just two people who wanted to be honest with each other.
Kim set her cup down with deliberate precision, then reached across the table, her fingers brushing Steve’s wrist before wrapping around it in a grip that wasn’t gentle but wasn’t cruel. Just firm—like she already knew she could control him if she wanted to.
And she did want to.
Her thumb pressed into the sensitive flesh of his inner wrist, right over the pulse that hammered beneath her touch. Not enough to bruise. Not yet. But enough to remind him who was in control. Enough to make him gasp.
“You’re a horny bastard, aren’t you?” Kim murmured, her voice dropping to something low and wicked. “I love it. You’re just the man I’m looking for!”
Kim’s grip on his wrist tightened just enough to make Steve’s pulse spike.
“And you’re hard already, aren’t you?” she said, her voice a sultry whisper as her eyes flicked down to the unmistakable bulge in Steve’s trousers. She licked her lips slowly, deliberately. “I can see it.”
“Yeah, Kim. I’m hard,” Steve admitted. “You really turn me on. This was supposed to be our first meeting, a chance for us to see if we liked each other, to see if we wanted to take things further, to see each other again. But you're gorgeous and direct, and you're driving me crazy," Steve admitted.
Steve met Kim’s gaze without hesitation.
Kim smirked, her teeth flashing white as she dragged them over her bottom lip. She leaned forward just enough for her blouse to open up slightly, giving Steve a teasing glimpse of her ample breasts. .
“Good,” Kim purred, "It's good to know that I can still drive a man crazy, she said.
"Now it's my turn" Steve said. "What exactly do you think about when you’re all alone, fingers buried in your cunt?" Steve asked.
Kim let out a low, throaty laugh, her fingers tightening around his wrist before sliding up his arm in a slow, deliberate caress. "Oh Steve," she purred, her voice like dark honey laced with sin, "you’re gonna make me blush if you keep talking like that."
Steve didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. "I doubt that very much Kim," he said.
"But you'll tell me what you think about when you're alone, won't you? When your fingers are buried between your thighs and you're imagining some guy’s huge cock fucking you raw while you cum all over it?"
Kim's gasped, her lips parting just slightly as if she was about to speak, but instead she just let out a low, needy sound that made Steve's cock jerk in his trousers. She tightened her grip on his wrist, her nails digging in just enough to make him squirm.
"Fuck, you're a filthy old man," she breathed, her voice thick with lust. "You really are."
"Yeah, Kim. I am," Steve admitted without shame.
"Tell me what you think about when you're alone, Kim. When you're touching yourself and dreaming of being fucked. Tell me exactly what you imagine."
Kim let out a low, throaty moan, her grip on Steve’s wrist tightening as if she needed something to ground herself. Her eyes darkened, her lips parting as she finally gave in to whatever fantasy had taken root in her mind.
“Fine,” she murmured, her voice rough and breathless. “But you’re not gonna like it.”
Steve raised an eyebrow, his own breathing growing heavier. He could see the flush creeping up her neck, the way her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath her blouse. She was holding back—deliberately teasing him.
"So talk, Kim," Steve urged, his voice a low growl. "Tell me what gets you off when you're alone. I want to know."
"I think about being on my knees," she started, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "I think about taking a cock in my mouth like a good little slut."
Kim's eyes locked onto his, dark and burning with lust, as she continued. "I think about being bent over a desk—or a kitchen table—while some guy pounds into my pussy from behind. His hands gripping my hips hard enough to leave bruises. His cock slamming into my pussy so deep it hurts."
Steve let out a low moan, his fingers tightening around his coffee cup until his knuckles turned white. "So tell me Kim, how often do you think about sucking a cock or being fucked by one?" Steve asked. "How often do you fantasize about being used like that?"
Kim caught her breath. She didn’t look away, didn’t flinch. Her voice was low, rough, dripping with filth as she spoke.
"Every. Fucking. Day."
"It sounds to me like we're very similar Kim," Steve said. "Two people who enjoy thinking about the same things."
Kim nodded, her grip on his wrist still firm, her thumb now drawing small circles against his pulse point. "Seems that way," she admitted, her voice dropping into something darker, hungrier.
"So what kind of pornography gets you off Steve?" Kim asked.
"Well Kim, I like scenes where one man fucks one woman. I like the women in these porn videos to wear high heels, neck collars, earrings, bikinis, suspenders, stockings, bodysuits, latex. I like glamorous porn, but I also like to see women take a load of cum in the face, and to see cum dripping from their pussies and assholes. I guess I'm a pretty sick fuck!" Steve said.
Kim let out a throaty laugh at his confession, her fingers tightening around his wrist as if she was already imagining how good it would feel to be the woman on the screen for him to fuck.
“A sick fuck, huh?” she purred, her voice dripping with amusement and something darker. “I’d argue that makes two of us.”
Her gaze flicked down to his lap again, her teeth dragging over her lower lip as she took in the thick outline of his cock straining against the fabric of his trousers. “Fuck, Steve,” she breathed, her voice rough with lust. “You’re huge when you’re hard.”
"Well, I guess that's the effect you have on me," Steve replied. "I'm not exactly small, and I'm not getting any younger, so the way I see it, I've only got a few more chances left to fuck you the way you're dying to be fucked. To make you scream and cum and beg me not to stop."
“Well, we seem to be hitting it off Kim,” Steve said. Would you like to see me again?
Would you like to be my fuckbuddy Kim?"
Kim leaned back in her chair, her blouse stretching taut over her chest as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts, pushing them up in a way that made Steve's cock jerk in his trousers again. She licked her lips slowly, deliberately, her gaze never leaving his as she considered his proposal.
"You want me to be your fuckbuddy, Steve?" Kim asked. "You want to fuck me whenever and wherever we want? No strings attached, no bullshit?"
Steve nodded, his fingers tightening around his coffee cup. "Exactly like that. Just two people who know what they want and aren't afraid to take it."
Kim smirked, leaning forward so that her blouse gaped just enough to give him a teasing glimpse of the dark curve of her breast. "You really know how to sell it, Steve," she said. "I like that." Her fingers traced the rim of her coffee cup again, slow and deliberate, before she met his gaze head-on. "But tell me, old man—can you handle me?"
Steve didn’t hesitate. “Fucking try me baby," he replied.
Kim’s smirk deepened, her teeth flashing white as she dragged them over her bottom lip. She leaned forward just enough to give Steve another glimpse of her cleavage, the lace cups of her bra straining against the heavy weight of her breasts. Her fingers drummed against the table, slow and deliberate, like she was already counting down to the moment she’d have him exactly where she wanted him.
“Fine,” she murmured. “But if we do this, Steve, we do it my way. No rules. No limits. No bullshit. Just you, me, and a whole lot of fun."
Steve leaned forward, his own coffee forgotten, his thumb dragging over the rough pad of her knuckles. His voice was rough, barely a growl. "No limits. No bullshit. Just you and me and a whole lot of hard fucking."
Kim’s grip on her coffee cup tightened as she watched Steve’s cock twitch again. She let out a low, throaty chuckle—part amusement, part hunger—as she finally set the cup down with a sharp clink. Her eyes never left his.
"Then let’s skip the bullshit," she said, her voice dropping into something rough and filthy. "When and where are we doing this?"
"What about tomorrow night?" Steve suggested.
"Come over to my cottage around, say, seven?"
"Perfect," Kim purred. "I’ll bring the condoms—and the enthusiasm." She licked her lips slowly, deliberately, her gaze never leaving his as she stood up from the table, her skirt riding up just enough to give him a teasing glimpse of the curve of her hip. "And maybe something else you’ll like."
"By the way, do you like sex toys Kim? I've got a good collection!" Steve said.
Kim’s eyes darkened, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she considered his offer. “A good collection, huh?” she murmured. “Tell me more about these toys of yours, Steve.”
"Well, most of them are for men, masturbators and cock rings, but I've also got a collection of dildos that might tickle your fancy, if you know what I mean?" Jamie replied. "A lot of the dildos are pretty basic, but I've got some size and shapes that might make your pussy weep with delight."
Kim’s fingers twitched against the table, her thighs pressing together as if she could already feel the stretch of something thick and veined inside her. She let out a slow, needy breath, her voice dropping into something rough and hungry. “Oh, Steve—you do know how to tempt a girl, don’t you?”
Before Steve could answer, Kim asked him whether there was a particular porn video scenario he would like her to imitate.
"Well Kim, would you be comfortable wearing a tiny bikini, open-toed stilettos and a neck collar? Jamie asked?"
Kim exhaled sharply, her fingers tightening around the edge of the table before she forced herself to relax. Her mind raced with the filthy possibilities—stiletto heels digging into the floorboards as a man buried his cock up to his balls in her dripping cunt, the sensation of a choker constricting her throat as she was held down, forced to take every inch of his huge cock. The mental image sent a jolt of heat straight to her core, her panties already damp with anticipation.
Fuck, she loved the idea of being used like that—like a man’s personal fucktoy, all shiny nails and arched back and desperate moans. "Fuck yes," Kim replied.
Steve licked his lips, his gaze taking in the way her skirt hugged the curve of her ass, the way her thighs pressed together like she was already imagining what it’d feel like to be bent over his couch with his cock splitting her wide open.
"Yeah, I can see you in that outfit," he murmured. "Tight black bikini, fuck-me heels clicking against my floor as I bend you over my couch and rip those little triangles aside so I can see your cunt dripping for me. Neck collar gleaming under the light."
The words slipped out before he could stop them, raw and unrestrained, and he loved the way Kim’s eyes darkened as she considered the possibilities.
She didn’t flinch. Instead, she licked her lips again, slowly and deliberately, her fingers curling into fists where they rested on the table. “Mmm,” she murmured.
Steve and Kim stood up to leave the cafe. Steve paid at the counter and walked Kim to her car. He wrote his address on a piece of paper and handed it to her.
"See you tomorrow night, bad, bold and beautiful!" he said, before giving her a goodnight kiss. He kissed her firmly, his tongue pushing past her lips, filling her mouth.
Kim kissed him back just as firmly, her tongue searching out his with a greedy hunger. She moaned into his mouth, her hands sliding up his back and gripping tightly. He could feel her nails digging into his skin through his shirt, and he moaned against her lips, his hands sliding down to grip her ass.
He squeezed her firm ass cheeks, pulling her against him, letting her feel exactly how hard and thick his cock was for her. They broke apart, both breathing heavily.
"See you tomorrow night Kim," Steve said.