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Nick “Knife” Williams checked his iPhone Maps app. He had promised her seven PM and intended to be prompt.
The screen displayed an 18:56 ETA. Traffic was light. Enough time to park and arrive exactly to the doorstep on time. Exactly like he preferred it.
Tonight was Knife’s birthday. Not that he really cared about birthdays, especially not his own. But he had planned to meet up with Cassie Wolfe. And on principle, he simply refused to be late.
Cassie was an old acquaintance who promised him a surprise birthday dinner date. Single, sexy and witty, there were certainly worse ways to spend a birthday. Knife knew this to be true. He had spent many of his birthdays under the least favorable circumstances imaginable.
Because of this, Knife was determined not to be late.
****
A brief friendship began in High School over a decade prior. Cassie was a ‘friend of a friend,’ and Nick quite reluctantly ended up going to the senior prom with ‘Crazy Cassie,’ as she was disparagingly known.
Nick hadn’t cared much for her, or senior prom, for that matter. But several shots of cheap whiskey later, drunk, young and dumb, they’d fooled around at a house party.
Later, they went on a date. A cheap dinner and movie, followed by handjobs in the passenger cab of Nick’s old pickup truck.
She’d wanted to take the relationship further. Nick, sensing something amiss in his gut, decided not to. They fell out of touch.
After high school, Nick tried community college for a few months. Nick knew immediately that it wasn’t for him.
Instead, he soon found himself standing on the “Yellow Footprints” of Parris Island, South Carolina. Not long afterward, Infantry training and multiple deployments to combat zones in both Iraq and Afghanistan.
Nick loved the Marines. He loved the adrenaline, terror and grew accustomed to the boredom of war.
The week before shipping out to his first deployment to Iraq, Nick and his buddies had found themselves in a fight at an Oceanside, California tattoo parlor.
Two would-be armed robbers had pulled a pistol, attempting to take the cash from the store and its patrons. The meth-addled punks hadn’t counted on Nick. He easily disarmed the one holding the pistol and subdued them both, but not before taking a switchblade through his left palm.
Little damage was done and his grizzled commander didn’t reprimand him too badly. He deployed to Iraq anyhow, his left hand bandaged for a month.
But the nickname stuck. ‘Knife’ became a local legend amongst his fellow Marines.
Knife had been there, done that, and earned the t-shirt.
At 29, Knife found himself again armed and patrolling the streets of a very different urban environment- his home city.
After Knife mustered out of the Marines, he returned home to take care of his aging parents. Before long, Knife grew bored with civilian life again.
Hard, dangerous work instinctively found him. Knife was naturally drawn to police work. The day-to-day tedium, truncated by moments of terror inducing adrenaline, were exactly the moments which Knife savored, just as he had in the Marines.
Knife disciplined himself to stay physically and mentally fit. He enjoyed the late, long hours. Late-night or early morning sessions in the gym bookended his long shifts. The unfortunate result of his work was a lack of romantic partners.
At six feet tall, athletic and handsome, Knife had no problems attracting partners. Keeping them around was his problem. He loved his work first.
After a series of girlfriends, he was shocked to receive a seemingly random text message from Cassie Wolfe. She introduced herself Otele gelen escort by name and wrote that she had been thinking about him, wondering what he was up to. She’d asked if he was still in the Army.
Knife rolled his eyes and laughed aloud at the question. Marines hate being compared to the Army. He admitted that soldiers likely didn’t care to be confused for jarheads much, either.
Knife clearly remembered Cassie from High School. The two had been slightly more than acquaintances, having hooked up on two awkward occasions. Yet he had no idea how she had obtained his phone number.
Cassie still existed on a wholly separate plane. The third daughter of an extremely wealthy businessman, Cassie was raised wanting nothing. Her father, Frederick Joseph Wolfe II, was a local business magnate.
Her mother insisted Cassie attend public school. Not exactly altruistic. Likely move for her husband to run for Mayor or State Senate or something like that. Knife assumed that the great Mr. Wolfe couldn’t be seen sending the daughters to a haughty admission-only private academy.
After high school, Cassie went to art school, pursing her dreams of being… some kind of artist. Knife wasn’t really certain.
Knife followed a divergent path into war and the Marines.
He hadn’t spoken with her in over a decade. Knife had been shocked to hear from her, yet agreed to meet her for coffee.
Cassie had suggested dinner and drinks, but Knife’s work schedule wouldn’t allow it.
Her motivations were ambiguous. Knife had determined she was most likely interested in a date. He was conscious of the fact Cassie may be romantically interested, but he was very hesitant of a relationship with her. Or, the cynical part of him wondered if Frederick Wolfe had finally decided to run for congress and needed a security detail.
Asking around to some of the guys who’d remained in his home town, he learned limited details. Namely, she’d dated more than her share of guys (girls, too, if Knife believed the rumors).
Knife agreed to coffee.
*****
Two Weeks after Coffee.
As he walked up the brilliantly manicured path, Knife couldn’t help but admire the grandeur of the home. He had known this part of town existed, but his usual patrol routes and calls never would arrive in this neighborhood. Hedges and posh gated areas surrounded multi-million dollar homes.
Coffee with Cassie had gone about how Knife had expected. Awkward at first, but the two slowly warmed up to each other. Always a talker, Cassie talked about everything that had happened to her in the last decade.
She had fidgeted endlessly- excitement and energy seemed to flow from her. Knife calmly nodded, yet noted she never asked a single question of him.
Before they parted, Knife was taken aback when she remembered his upcoming birthday. She told him she wanted to celebrate by cooking him dinner. Knife didn’t refuse- there were worse things that a dinner from an attractive, energetic woman like Cassie.
Over coffee, Knife learned that her most recent job was part-time yoga instructor. And she had the body to prove it. She cut a lithe and toned, yet gently curvy figure. Her straight, long raven black hair framed a cute face, green eyes and full lips. He set a date for a night two weeks later.
The doorbell to the Wolfe Estate sounded melodically in a series of chimes. Knife had arrived early, just as he had planned.
About a minute later, the massive right side double door creaked open. Knife had expected to see a servant or butler.
Instead, Cassie poked her head out with a huge lopsided smile.
“Hey, happy Rus escort birthday” She said, pulling him into a tight embrace. He could feel her warmth and supple body against his chest.
“C’mon, follow me.”
Cassie led Knife through a cavernous foyer, down a hallway and into a main dining room.
Knife noticed her figure again with her tight jeans and loose blouse. She looked great, toned and with curves in all of the right places. Employment as a part-time yoga instructor certainly helped.
“Have a seat, Nick” Cassie instructed. She’d gestured to the seat at the head of the table. Frederick Wolfe’s place. Knife took the patriarch’s seat. He noticed immediately that it sat a few inches higher than the rest. Typical power move, Knife thought.
“You look good sitting there, daddy” Cassie remarked.
Before Knife could unpack that one, Cassie asked him a question.
“How do you feel about soup and a salad?”
Nick would’ve been much happier with a pint of beer and a cheeseburger, but he agreed.
“Yeah, that sounds good to me.”
A few minutes later, Cassie returned to the room with a tray. On it sat a dressed salad and a bowl of orange soup. She set the place at the head of the table and set a place for herself.
“Hey, thank you. Looks great!”
“Happy Birthday, Nick.” She whispered into his ear. Her warm breath and low, sensual voice gave him goosebumps.
Knife sat at the head of the table. Cassie took the seat to his right. He set about eating the salad and lobster bisque. It was tasty and Knife was skeptical that she’d actually made it.
“Do you enjoy the Bisque?” Cassie asked.
“Yeah, It’s really damn good.”
Knife finished the soup and salad. Cassie talked throughout, discussing the history of the estate.
Cassie bit her lip. Knife swore he saw a thirst in her eyes.
Nick couldn’t help but see her cleavage. She had obviously loosed a button.
“Do you want seconds?”
Nick really did not, but he said yes anyways.
Cassie slid out of her chair, grabbing Knife’s bowl on the way out. She headed for the kitchen. Knife took the moment to look around the room. He admired the ornate furnishings, the chandelier over the table and a cabinet full of crystal.
But mostly, Knife took in Frederick Joseph Wolfe II. A massive oil painting portrait of him hung on one wall of the dining room. In the portrait, he held something between a sneer and a smile, along with his thin mustache and perpetual glare. Knife was grateful to have not met the man in the last decade.
Cassie bounced back into the dining room, almost spilling Knife’s soup. She placed it in front of him and took her seat.
“Hey, thank you for making me this meal.”
Nick knew she hadn’t cooked a damn thing.
“Is it good?”
A mouth full, Knife could only nod. This was getting strange.
“Do you enjoy my cooking, Nick?”
Knife set down the spoon and watched as stood and Cassie unbuttoned her shirt. She let it fall to the floor. Knife admired her figure.
Knife slid his chair back. Cassie stood between his legs now. His hands caressed her smooth pale skin, as her pulled her close.
She’d mentioned during their coffee date that she had a breast augmentation. Knife thought it was strange that she phrased it that she had ‘spent her allowance money on attention getting tits.’
He certainly wasn’t complaining. In high school she’d already had great breasts; now, they were perfectly shaped- the tops curving out of her black lace bra.
They kissed. Slowly. She held his face as her soft lips pressed against his.
Cassie suddenly bit on Knife’s Sincan escort lower lip. Hard.
Knife grunted. What the fuck?
She said nothing, instead laughing a sensual, dusky laugh.
Behind her, father looked down in imagined disdain.
Cassie began kissing Knife again. Knife pulled her hips close. She paused to whisper into his ear.
“I want you so bad right now.” Her breath was like fire into his ear.
She slid to her knees and knelt before him. Knife’s erection now swelled under his jeans. Cassie caressed the inside of Knife’s thighs.
Cassie pulled her raven-black hair into an impromptu bun, securing it with a hairtie from her wrist. She quickly undid Knife’s belt and trousers, revealing his erection. She grabbed his stiff cock, giving it a generous pump.
“You have a really pretty penis.”
“Umm, thanks, that’s a first.” Nick laughed.
Cassie slowly stroked him and without another word, took Knife’s cock into her mouth.
Knife gasped as her warm, wet mouth engulfed him. Cassie didn’t slow to tease him, rather she set a rhythm and bobbed her head.
Knife’s fingers dug into the wood of the armrests. The suction around his shaft was intense. Cassie’s full lips and warm, soft tongue felt incredible.
He couldn’t help but look up at the enormous painting again. The Family Patriarch stared down at him. Nick imagined him glowering with disgust. Watching his daughter suck this man’s cock at his place at the table.
Cassie made gentle slupring sounds as she worked Nick. Her raven black hair rose and fell rhythmically in his lap.
Knife began to squirm, knowing a release was imminent. His balls tightened. He could barely think. She was good, he had to admit. Really good.
Cassie never looked up, took a breath or slowed down. Knife knew he wouldn’t last long.
“Fuck, Cass, I’m gonna…” Knife breathed, just a little too late, as his orgasm pulsed. Cassie held her mouth around Knife’s cock, not slowing.
Knife gently pulled her hair into his hand.
Cassie smiled at Knife. His sticky white cum dripped down her chin.
She leaned over the table and spit the remainder of the load into the soup bowl.
Cassie now stood, kissing Nick on the lips. He could taste his own salty cum on her mouth.
Taking one of the cloth napkins, she wiped the rest off of her lips and chin. Cassie playfully tossed the towel at Knife’s lap, simulating a free throw.
“For your pretty penis.”
Nick smirked, wiped her saliva off his cock and tucked himself back into his jeans.
Cassie buttoned her shirt back up.
“So, what are you doing the rest of the night?”
Knife smiled. He was a little confused by the question. He’d assumed they would spend some time together.
“This was the main thing.”
“Aww.” replied Cassie. She didn’t look up, already tapping away on her iPhone.
“I’m gonna meet some of the girls.”
“Oh, Right on.”
Knife didn’t really want to know which girls she’d been referring to.
He gave the painting of Mr. Wolfe a gentlemanly nod as he walked out of the dining room.
“You at least want a ride?”
“What else do you want Knife? I already blew you.” Cassie snapped at him.
Knife was taken aback, but his face didn’t show it.
She walked him out the front door into the cool night air. They exchanged a kiss.
“Till next time, stud” Cassie breathed huskily.
*****
Knife parked his truck outside his apartment. His phone chimed. A series of messages from Cassie.
Happy Birthday to you!!!
Emojis of a Birthday Cake, Eggplant, Squirt and a wink face followed.
Let’s hang out again sometime soon, daddy.
Knife laughed aloud. What the hell was this woman’s deal?
If his birthday present was a bowl of store bought soup and a blowjob in her father’s chair, what would another night have in store? Knife smiled in anticipation.