His Virgin

By: Nikki Chase

I can't sit there and watch him awkwardly flirt with a girl. Todd has no game, but he doesn't know it. Girls are only with him because of his family's money.

I can tell because I know the signs of a gold digger. I’ve been dealing with them since I was old enough to notice girls. They’re always throwing themselves at me but I'm not interested in being their chump, so I steer clear of them.

If they want my money, then they have to be my employees. I’m their boss and they have to do as I say or get fired. I have to protect myself, so I want things spelled out in legal documents, signed by all parties involved.

This has narrowed down my options to women who expect some form of payment for their services, women who want something other than just the pleasure of my companionship.

But I don't mind. I actually prefer it this way, so everyone knows exactly what to expect from each other. It's better than the alternative.

I wouldn't want to be Todd when the waitress is done with him. I don't particularly like Todd, but I can tell he thinks that girl actually likes him. It’s never a pleasant thing to discover the truth, to find out you're just being used as a tool for buying designer stuff and climbing up the social ranks.

I wander the hallways aimlessly, letting the alcohol seep into my system, keeping a brisk pace to avoid being stopped for pointless conversations. My shoes sink into the plush carpet underfoot. The paintings hanging on the walls blur past.

That's when I see her.

She has her back to me, but she feels familiar. That honey-brown ponytail that's just asking to be wrapped around my hand and pulled. That full ass that begs to be spanked until it's red hot. I knew she'd look good out of her scrubs.

She's holding her tray of canapés for two young jocks who are taking way more time than necessary to pick out their appetizers. I can't tell what they're saying, but I can see them openly ogling her, like Todd did to the waitress from before. They're staring at her tits, slowly moving closer until she's backed away, flush against the wall. She's trapped now and probably won't escape without suffering a grope or two.

Many of the men are doing the exact same thing to other waitresses. That's the whole point of having scantily clad young girls strut their stuff at a party like this.

But for some reason, seeing her being treated like one of those girls—which she is—makes my blood boil.

I clear my throat to get their attention. “Waitress,” I call out. “Come here.”

The jocks turn around to glare at me. One of them looks like he's about to fight me, but his friend pulls him back and says something in a low voice. He probably knows who I am. Getting on my bad side is not a good idea for anyone who does business in this city.

The two guys walk away, leaving me alone with the nurse from St. Peter’s Hospital I met last week.

She's looking at me now, apprehension flashing in her green eyes, which look unnaturally intense tonight from the heavy make-up. She recognizes me, and she realizes she has just escaped the frying pan only to fall into the fire.

“I said come here. You work here, don't you? The customer is king. Haven't you heard that?” I could step closer to close the gap between us, but that wouldn't be any fun. She knows she has to do as I say, and I want to watch the fight die within her, see the moment when she gives up and follows my order.

She hesitates. She's lost her balance from having tried to back away from the two jocks, and it doesn't look as if she's used to the high heels either, or the lack of actual clothes.

Like the other girls, she's wearing a black bra, a pair of lacy panties, and black garters that hold up her sheer black stockings. Unlike the other girls, she looks uncomfortable in them.

She's out of her element, just like she was at the hospital when she had to obey me instead of the hospital rules. This means I’ve got her right where I want her.

“Did you hear me, or do I have to tell the host you can't do your job?” I give her a sharp stare, and she glowers at me in response, even though her full lips, which are painted red tonight, remain tightly zipped.

She regains her composure. She starts to walk closer, teetering on her shoes, which exaggerate the sway of her full hips.

She has cute, perky tits, but it’s the way her slender waist flares out into those hips and ass that gets me. I could just imagine my fingers digging into her waist as I bend her over and pull her back against me, impaling her on me again and again. My cock stirs in my pants.

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