Page 63 of My Soul for Sale

“Yes!” she cries.

“You like having your stepdad and brother fuck your little cunt, don’t you, naughty girl,” Dad grunts.

“Fuuuck!”

Her pussy clamps down around us as she sobs her release. There’s a light sheen of sweat covering her flushed body.

We don’t stop fucking her. I’m barreling toward my own release as I pound into her.

My dad grunts underneath her, stilling, and I can feel his warm cum covering my dick.

It’s filthy and wrong, but it sends me over the edge. My fingers dig into her soft flesh as I release rope after rope of cum inside of her.

“Goddamn baby. You’re perfect. I love you.” I kiss her back before pulling out of her.

“Mmhmm,” she hums.

“She’s out. Not sure she’s sleeping, but she’s off in another world.” My dad chuckles.

“I’ll get a rag and clean her up,” I tell him, sliding off the bed and heading back to the bathroom.

When I come back to the room, he’s lying beside her in a pair of black sweats. Sloane is curled up next to him, naked and lightly snoring.

Gently, I part her legs and slide the rag over her red and puffy cunt, cleaning up the mess we made together. She doesn’t stir or make a noise.

I clean myself up quickly and toss the rag into the mesh hamper she has by the door. Grabbing a pair of gray sweats, I slide them on and flip the light off before climbing into the bed on the opposite side of my dad.

The blanket moves, covering us, and I wrap an arm around Sloane.

“Night,” I tell my dad.

“Night.”

I kiss Sloane’s shoulder. “Night baby. Love you.”

Chapter Thirty

Sloane

We’ve received the liquor license, and now I am legally in control of everything. I got a little pizza oven and the Budweiser distributor knew a pizza guy, so we are all set.

I have little signs on the bar and on the few tables boasting that you can now order pizza. It's twelve inches, there are a variety of kinds to choose from, and it’s only nine bucks.

The official grand re-opening will be next month when the few upgrades are complete. We’re going to paint the walls, redo the floors with LVT, and put a foot rail at the base of the bar.

I’ve replaced the tables and barstools, and I’m stoked about how it will look when it’s all done. I opted for plush, all-black leather stools with backs on them and rich brown tables.

So far, the regulars love the upgrades, and I’m just hoping that when I make my big name changing announcement, they’ll take it in stride. In the end, this is my place, so I’ll do whatever I need to make it successful, but I’d like to keep the people who made me love this job along the way.

I’ve decided to rename the bar and I’m pumped about it. The Iced Rose is just boring and well, it doesn’t vibe with the new vision I have of a crowded bar with bingo and DJ nights. The new name is fun and a play on serving beer and dealing with drunks, I’m going to plaster that baby everywhere.

Ripley is supposed to come by at six to pick me up for dinner and I’m excited about our first solo date. He wouldn’t tell me where we were going, just said to wear something nice, and he’d pick me up from the bar.

Moon gave me some shit about changing in the bar bathroom, but it’s not the craziest or weirdest thing that’s happened in there, so he can shut it. One of the past bartenders, Hannah, took a pregnancy test in that bathroom; thankfully negative. And once I caught two random bitches doing crack in there.

He even sang the K-I-S-S-I-N-G song as he watched me do my mascara and lip gloss while sitting at the bar.

“You better be careful, sweetheart. You’ll give one of these old guys a heart attack looking that good,” he calls as I slip my feet into a pair of heeled boots and shove my tennis shoes into my bag.

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