Good host

Rex's dick is aching hard. Aaron better drive the car faster before his boss develops blue balls.

The newfound need that calls to have him sink into Angela's pussy makes him inwardly curse his driver for being respectful toward traffic signs, but… just this one time anyway.

This attraction between his pants' desires and her body's reaction is quite unexpected, giving the sort of adrenaline Rex once assumed toward his ex.

Mirabel's name, until today, has become Rex's nightmare, driving him

to punish all the red-haired escorts he pays for companionship.

Except today, his appetite surprisingly craves something contrary to the mastered cries of his past submissive's.

Previously, he always enjoyed administering his feathered cane on their flesh, finding comfort in their faked tears of agony even if he knew otherwise.

Meanwhile, as Mirabel's deceit lay buried in the shallow of Rex's consciousness.

Still enraged, he wishes to see his latest and sexiest conquest kneeling before him, not from being a skilled pet, but because she was new to the experience. An authentic perception, it just so happens she's a red-hair as well.

As for the lessons from his young love, he learned in capital's, to live through the past hurtful feelings she inflicted on his view of tenderness, but with baggage of reasons to avoid any more commitment.

Back then, Rex had cared for Mirabel like an adolescent male expressing his first exposure toward attraction. He actually gave his attention to the model as well as his father's wealth. During the day she was to wed Rex, Mirabel, however, eloped with Hankana, leaving a few scribbled words behind to address her one-month pregnancy.

The incident left Rex stranded at the altar; finding out after long hours of waiting in vain for his supposed bride. Family rumor has it that the two are today married and living in another country, with a daughter named Vanessa.

As for how Rex healed from the embarrassing event? He gave away his inheritance and until the last coin before leaving his family, and… a teary mom. She stood unmoving at their mansion gate, periods after her son left to find his feet. Rex had felt like he didn't merit his dad's life work. His understanding mom never questioned the decision he took to disburse his share of her husband's wealth. She understood what her son was battling with.

The day Rex left was a sore sight. It happens that some weeks back, her other son Roy, had left without expressing his reason for choosing to leave the family name. And now his twin, Rex, was also departing but without a dime to comfort him on the streets. Yes, she wailed her grieve out. But as the years rolled on, she eventually found comfort in stroking down her inner pain at the frames of gas burned arts, which people who felt the absence of their loved ones bought.

The loss of money never mattered, as long as one was determined, consistent, and dreamy. To Rex, however, it was all in vain. It failed to wed the only woman he had thought he loved. Back then, starting from nothing wasn't an easy fit. After refusing the extended help of his mother, Rex decided to start anew, sleeping in inhospitable environments, hustling on the streets, and walking dogs to pay for further education, … just to mention a few less hurtful moments of his past. It was even worse because his twin and wingman were nowhere to be found.

Rex grieved alone; he couldn't cry out his unspoken pains back to the arms of his mother, not when he felt his dad's demise was aggravated by the shame of Mirabel's elopement. Making it in life, and with his mind now as bleak as ice, he only did the ladies once before dumping them by morning. Staring at the beauty resting on his chest, Rex trails his eyes until they get to their entwined palms. Damn, This spells more trouble than the days he originally shared with his ex.

He gains recognition, their dreamy state always left him uncomfortable, using his looks to fulfill their fantasy and uncaring about the man beneath the mask. Yes, Rex felt used, and now this one appears like the type to expect commitment from a one-night stand.

Still, his body, with a thought for itself, pulled to glue the naivety even closer to his rib cage. Was he beginning to love her? A no. Trying to fulfill her fantasies? Maybe. But, when she brought her hand to wrap around his neck, the master in him screamed a helluva yes. The girl acts inexperienced, something he sensed the moment after watching her stagger into the Sky-Rack. Her movements had contrasted with that of her friend's footsteps. The other girls had appeared more in control over whatever liquor they consumed before their arrival at the club. Nevertheless, some minutes later, Aaron pulled into Rex's city residence. The chauffeur aligns his less expensive baby into the compound's garage. Rex's balls became the first to scream, home at last. “ Yet, expecting his sub for the night to prepare herself to exit the ride and feeling nervous too, Rex waited seconds thereafter, enjoying the tranquility of having the girl snuggle this close to him, unafraid of his aura. Finally glancing downwards, he finds her fast asleep and snoring lightly on his chest. “Yuk, what a turnoff.” Rex groaned out. “Sir, what should we do with your lady friend?” His driver inquired, trying to mimic a professional stance. “Aaron, Is that your limited version of being sarcastic?”

“No, but of course, sir. I….”

“Should learn to mind my driving skills. Aaron, you drove like a tortoise. Now she's fast asleep, you must be overjoyed.”

“Perhaps, we could shake her up, you know?”

“Relax your aged veins, Aaron. I might need a pussy, but I'm not in heat to bed drunk and passed out girls.” Rex assured him.

“Yes, boss, and to whatever you say. A kind reminder, though. Foaming soaps and cold showers are considered the most functional.” Aaron blurts out. Winking and with an attitude, he walks out on his boss. As if they both owned the damn place? Anyway, and to the present dilemma, how to handle an annoying chauffeur and the sleeping lady? Just great. What the hell did I do to deserve this fantastic night? Rex pondered.

For a few more seconds, he relaxed, watching her sleep. The idea of waking her to consciousness begs for his dick's benefit. Still, his good thoughts have him opening his side of the ride's door, arranging her body to fit, he exits the car to get to the side where she now laid.

To shake, or not to wake her up, Rex contemplated. At the end, he had his one night pet resting on his shoulders. With hands resting on her buttocks, he carried her all the way to the lift and never stopped until he got to his penthouse. It almost took the life of his to prevent himself from throwing her sleeping body on the bed of his guest room. Rex, however, laid her gently down.

'Freaking club girls with no alcohol-controlling system, turning me on only to leave my member at attention but without a damn show.' Still, a look at the girl lying on the bed, with how relaxed she appears even in her sleep. Empathy tugs at the CEO. He reached out to drape the duvet over the length of her frame.

'Now, what to do with my hard-on?' Aghh, he groaned out his frustrations. A part of him wishing the disturbance could wake up the cause of his third wheel's plight.

Alone and stroking his dick without release for close to an hour now, a sudden noise has Rex pausing his stroking quest. The first thought to come to mind screamed 'intruder'; that was until he recalled bringing a lady home.

Damn, 'can't have sex and can't wank in peace. Just why did I choose this night's trouble?' Rex wondered. But even he knew of the reason. She came in looking improper. Not of her dress choice. Her demeanor was like a sheep entering the den of prey.

I might as well go check on her. Rex concluded. She must be exploring my cabinets for something relevant. Rex stood, draped on his pants before strolling towards his kitchen. “What are you scouting for?” He asked, startling the girl out of her wits.

Not like he's being proud, but Rex developed his alpha accent a period before he turned eighteen. At the sound of his intricate voice, Angela turns to peer at him. The handsome and seeming well—in control male enjoyed seeing her eyes travel from his face to his bare chest and stopping ajar in shock once she got to his loin’s junction.

'Good, eye its length very well, it will soon visit each of your holes, baby.'

Angela, however, spoke up, distracting his thought flow.

“Ah… I am seeking for… Looking for a glass to fetch myself drinking water.” she responded, eyeing his dick wearily.

Perhaps, seeing how rock hard his tool protruded, she must know how sleeping off before they began their night's arrangement has affected him. Rex's Jack throbs, in need of a follow-up action.

Now that she's awake, I will dig into her penny and never stop unless I regain the pleasure of what wanking myself couldn't produce. Rex vows. But first, he intends fetching the girl some water. He's not a terrible host, after all.