Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22762 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22762 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Her titties are heavy like they were made for a man to hold, and the way her hips flare out means she’d be easy to breed. Yeah, she came back a woman, and I haven’t been able to stop myself from taking notice.
“Would you like to hear the specials?”
I nod because all I want to do is hear her talk. I don’t care if it’s the specials of the day in this shitty diner or if she’s reading a tractor manual. I just want to hear her voice all the fucking time.
“We’ve got country fried steak and gravy with mashed potatoes and it comes with a side. There’s also fried chicken. No wait, that was yesterday.”
She flips through her little notepad, and then her tongue comes out to sweep over her bottom lip. I have to fight back a groan when I see that full lip glistening like a tease.
“Sorry, it’s meatloaf.” She finally looks up at me again, and I see her dark brown eyes fill with worry like she’s made a mistake.
“What kind of treat you got for me?” I ask, and then those pretty round cheeks color again.
Fuck, I’m getting too turned on. I need to go to the bathroom and jerk off or something.
“Treat?” She licks her lips again like she wants me to put my cock in her mouth. “Oh, the special dessert today is cinnamon rolls. Joy put extra green and red sprinkles on them.”
Her smile seems genuine, and I wonder how I can make her smile like that for me.
“Let me start with a coffee and think about it,” I tell her as I set down the greasy menu on the table.
“Would you like to cream?” She goes to write it down on her pad but then stops, and her eyes widen. “I mean, would you like cream? With your coffee. Do you want cream with your coffee?”
I want nothing more than to cream into my fist right this second, but it’s not exactly the polite thing to do in public. Better yet, I’d like to get into one of her warm little holes and cream there.
“Yeah, I like cream,” I say and drag my eyes to her tits. “I like it sweet too.” Just thinking about her tits leaking has my cock throbbing with need.
“I’ll be right back.”
She turns around too fast and almost falls into the table beside us. She manages to right herself and mumble an apology as she wiggles her big round ass to the back of the diner. Yeah, I watch it bounce the whole way and imagine how it would feel going up and down my dick.
“Don’t know how that rich snot can show her face in here,” Samuel Till grumbles from the next table over. “She’s working in a diner like her father didn’t steal half the money in the town.”
I don’t bother trying to correct him. To everyone in town, Sabrina is the enemy because of what she represents. It doesn’t help that she came back to town and is living with her grandfather in the big house on the hill.
What most of the people here don’t know is what really happened with her family. When I came to Mittenville, she was off in Europe at a boarding school, and the deeds of her father had rocked this little town.
This was a prime location for my cattle farm to expand, and the land was cheap. It didn’t take long for me to make a name for myself, and yes, I spread the wealth back into Mittenville. A man with my fortune can only spend so much money in a lifetime, so I put a lot of it back into the town that desperately needed it.
After making a sizable donation to the library, the elderly woman who ran it filled me in on the whole story. Mrs. Maggie was friends with Sabrina’s grandmother and knew more about what happened than anyone else. She must have kept her connection to the Anise family a secret because otherwise she would have been as shunned as Sabrina is.
Mrs. Maggie must have seen something in me she could trust because she shared with me what really happened with Sabrina’s father. Then she tipped me off to a couple of places I could spend more of my money if I felt so inclined.
A line of second graders singing Christmas carols as they walk past the diner brings me back to the here and now. Good thing, because here comes my girl with the coffee.
“What can I get you?” Sabrina asks, pen poised to scribble down whatever I say next.
“I heard you went to school in Europe,” I say, and it must not be what she expects to hear because her eyes snap up, and she looks at me in confusion.
“Um, yes?” I’m not sure why she’s answering it like a question, but as long as her eyes are on me, I’ll take it.