Story #5: Side Story: How Mister Met Missy.

A reckless game of cat and mouse—one daring brat, one relentless hunter, and a dark alley where surrender was never an option.

I used to be a real mean motherfucker. Hell, sometimes I still am.

But somehow, I’m lying in a bed with arguably the most angelic being next to me.

She’s so small, half the time, I’m afraid of rolling over the wrong way and crushing her by accident

So damn petite, practically pint-sized.

And mine.

I watched her sleep, long lashes fluttered as she dreamed. A stray curl tickled her cheek, and I brushed it back, letting my knuckles trail across the freckles she hated. Silly little thing. I could spend hours mapping them out like stars in the night sky.

How the fuck did I get this lucky?

It was the wee hours of the morning, and I had woken up sweating. Work was eating into me, constantly nibbling at the edges of my life until it was the only thing I could think of. It robbed me of sleep.

So, I laid awake, watching her lightly snore away, thinking back to when we first met.

At that time, I had given up on love. Not sex—that was easy enough. But, as sappy as it sounds, actual heart-pounding, gut-wrenching love.

Women wanted me… until they didn’t. Until they saw what a fucking mess I was under the hood.

Ever since I was a pimpled-face, hormone-enraged teenager, I loved seeing women cry. And that translated into certain tastes… certain needs that not everyone could handle.

Life’s funny though. You’re so certain of one thing and then the world goes and pulls the rug out from under you.

And fuck, I fell hard.

It was maybe a little over a year ago when I first saw Missy.

I was just promoted at work. Finally got the new position I had slaved over for nearly a year. So, the boys took me out that Friday night.

First, we hit the Club, drank hard liquor, and watched various scenes play out. Nothing really piqued my interest – I could tell when the girls were acting. Their artificial sobs echoed through the dim chamber. But still, the guys kept buying rounds and shooting the shit. It was nice to just unwind.

Eventually, someone suggested we hit a local bar – one with a dance floor. One popular with younger people.

Fucking Kyle and his infantile obsession – always on the lookout for a new baby girl.

I used to make fun of that idiot relentlessly.

Not now. I hardly have any room to talk.

Leon backed out pretty much immediately. It wasn’t his crowd, and with him being at least ten years my senior, I didn’t blame him.

Hell, it’s a small wonder that I even went. I was the ripe old age of 43 and had zero business mingling with twenty-year-olds.

But I didn’t want the night to end just yet.

So, Kyle, Eric, and I sauntered off to the bar, our ties loosened, and work jackets slung over our shoulders. Three fucked-up amigos on the prowl for something sweet to sink our teeth into.

Warm summer air had downtown buzzing with activity. We weaved in and out of the crowd, locating the establishment and entered.

Shit – we stuck out like a sore thumb. Everywhere around me were upturned baby faces watching us. Some peeked at us shyly over cocktail glasses; others glared outright. Disgusted.

At least some of the kids here were smart. They could smell danger from a mile away and we fucking stunk of it.

Still, the three of us pushed through the mob of shit- faced youngsters, ordered drinks, and settled at one of those overly stuffed semi- circle couches near the dance floor.

Laser lights flickered and strobed as the DJ blasted a bass-heavy remix. We surveyed the throng of dancing girls and laughed at the awkward boys hungrily watching at the edges.

I remembered those days.

At some point, maybe our third drink in, Kyle entered the mass of swaying bodies and disappeared. I didn’t worry when we lost track of him.

He’s a big boy and I was positive he had found something much more entertaining than two grinches sipping bourbon on a couch.

I glanced over at Eric and sighed. He was three sheets to the wind and needed to go home. Maybe I did too.

I closed our tab out and heaved Eric out of the noisy bar, trying to hail a taxi. One zipped up in front of me and I immediately grabbed for the door handle and yanked it open.

“Well, excuse me, Mister. You could at least wait until I got out of the cab first!”

Dark eyes - not quite brown, not quite black – locked onto me. Intense cosmic voids that sucked me in immediately.

Pert, red lips jerked into a sarcastic grin. They criminally contrasted the soft feminine roundness of her face. Such a naughty look on an innocent face.

Annoyance and something… else… curled inside of me.

I silently stepped aside. Eric slurred something stupid like “Excuse us, Miss”.

Classy black heels clicked on the sidewalk as this little thing slid out of the back of the cab.

Her tight frame, pleasantly ample in all the right places, shifted past us. A long ponytail of brown hair wagged as she moved, the black dress she wore hugged her perfectly.

Simple. Elegant.

I paused, relishing the confident clacks of her heels walking by me, behind me. She smelled like some fruity shampoo—sweet and ripe.

Maybe just a taste…

My fingers twitched. Then she was gone.

I grunted as I roughly threw Eric into the back, fisted a few tens into the cabby’s palm, and sent the drunk bastard off.

I sighed, massaging my temples. The drinks were starting to hum through me, a sweet numbness that I craved for most nights – when I was alone.

I was contemplating flagging down a cab myself, not sure I could safely make the drive back home when that voice – hot honey to my ears – called out.

“Hey Mister! You’re going home already? It’s not even midnight!”

I turned slowly. My eyes scanning the crowded sidewalk. There she was, standing in line to enter the bar I had just left. Those mischievous dark eyes teasing me. Taunting me.

This fucking brat.

I rolled my shoulders back and smiled back at her casually. Then I flashed the bouncer my wristband and walked right back in.

One more drink wouldn’t hurt.

***

I reclined on the couch, watching.

Waiting.

My whiskey swirled lazily in the stout glass. She was dancing, her hips swaying to the tune of the music, that tight little ass flaunting itself. Her eyes drift over the rim of her pink drink once more, catching my gaze for probably the twentieth time.

As much as I wanted to belt back my drink, letting the foggy heat muddle all self-control, and approach her, I remained seated. Just eye-fucking her. Inviting her into my den.

She was surrounded by several girlfriends, huddled together, laughing, wiggling to the beat of the music. Even standing at most a little over five feet in heels, I could root her out in the crowd.

One drink had turned into two and I was buzzing with the need for some form of release.

My hand clenched, then unclenched.

One of her friends whispered in her ear, and they both peeked over to me. They giggled. A glimmer of daring twinkled in those dark eyes. She swirled her drink with a tiny straw and brought it to her tempting crimson lips.

Fuck – all the things I was imagining doing to that plump, pouty mouth. If she was smart, she would run as fast as she could in the opposite direction.

Her friend continued to murmur in her ear, a smile cracking wider and wider across that sweet face. A nod. She handed off her drink and fucking sauntered my way.

I bit back a growl.

Yeeees.

But then another girl nearby grabbed her elbow and shook her head.

Don’t – it said.

And her friend was right.

I tried to ignore the crush inside of me. I shouldn’t have had any expectations. She was a pretty young thing, and I was … a creepy old fuck sitting in the back of a club I didn’t belong in.

I shifted my eyes away, shame stirred in me.

Time for the check. Time to leave and go home.

“Is this seat taken?”

My breath hitched. Electricity shot through me as I found her standing in front of me. I burned.

She didn’t wait for me to reply, instead plopping beside me, leaning in.

“Hmm, what’s this your drinking?”

She lifted the glass from my hand and brought it up to her mouth, letting it hover for a moment before her lips touched the rim.

I didn’t move. I just took her in, consuming her with my eyes.

A cough. Then another. She covered her mouth with a hand. Her eyes watered as she gasped for breath.

Fucking intoxicating.

I needed more.

She looked up at me. “Who the hell drinks whiskey straight like that? Ever heard of Coke?”

I couldn’t help it. I smiled.

“You don’t like the feeling of your throat burning?” My voice growled the question, testing her.

Another cough, and a look of shock.

Shit. Too much. Too fast.

But suddenly a smirk bloomed, her expression soaking me up, hungrily raking down my face, my body.

“Depends on the occasion.”

Then she drained the glass.

Holy fucking shit.

I stiffened, already half-hard as a single tear slid down a delicate cheek. Her coughs clipped as she tried to suppress them.

“What’s your name, sweet thing?”

I absolutely had to know, wanting it so badly in my mouth, rolling off my tongue.

She wiped her eyes on the back of her hands, careful not to mess up her make-up, and scooted closer. Fingertips skated up one of my thighs.

It took every muscle in my body not to shudder at the touch. To not react. I was going to give her nothing.

“Hmmm. How about you guess? I’ll let you know if you’re getting close.”

Her hand inched upwards and I snatched it. She gasped. My grip tightened on that tiny wrist, squeezing out a warning. Then I let it go.

“All work and no play, makes Mister a dull boy,” her lips pouted playfully.

It was my turn to lean in.

“You like to play games, huh?” My body loomed over her like a black cloud, “Let’s do this then. Hide and seek. Easy enough. You hide and when I find you, you tell me your name.”

I could see her face flush even in the dim lighting. Her chest fluttered as I pressed closer, my lips just mere centimeters from her ear, “I’ll count to ten. One…two…”

I wasn’t sure if she would actually play along, my gut twisting anxiously when she sat there frozen for another heartbeat.

But her eyes flashed. A competitive spark shined in them.

“Catch me if you can.”

And my heart sang as I watched her drift off into the crowd.

Somehow, to my credit, I managed to actually count to ten before I hounded after this little chit. This brat.

I was going to take everything from her and watch her splinter into a thousand pieces.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t difficult finding her. That high-and-mighty ponytail gave her away in a heartbeat as I spied her trying to sneak out the back.

I purposely slowed my advance, wanting to draw this out as long as possible.

In her rush, she accidentally bumped into a young man who barely managed to keep his drink from spilling over her.

I hung back. An apologetic smile and wave of the hands flashed as she tried to skirt by. But the boy grabbed her arm. I instantly recognized the burn in his expression. Of course, the little shit would try to hit on her. Anyone with fucking eyes would.

I stepped backwards, hugging the wall as I wrestled with my own demons. I didn’t even know her. Why would I care so much if another guy took a liking to her?

But then the girl frowned at the boy. Her face twisting with annoyance as she jerked away. I could tell she dropped some sort of smart-ass remark based on how the boy recoiled and slunk away. A puppy with its tail between its legs.

The girl glanced back behind her, scanning her surroundings. She found me and those black eyes widened. Those ruby red lips parted slightly in a smirk.

She flipped me off and mouthed, 'Better luck next time, Mister.'

My hand ran through my hair. I felt hot. So hot.

This little firecracker… actually wanted me.

I don’t recall what kind of expression I made but the look in her eyes when she saw it – the ‘oh fuck’ that left her lips – I’ve never spiraled so deeply into my depravity. I itched to see her scream and writhe under me, taste the salt of her tears as she fought against me. I wanted nothing more than to crush her in the palm of my hand.

If I got my claws into her, I’d never let go.

I lengthened my stride, careful not to rush as I stalked over to her. She yipped and then beelined to the back door, slamming into it before making a break to the alleyway behind the bar.

My blood roared in my ears, everything around me faded into a buzzing hush as my hand caught the door before it closed.

All I had to do was follow the frantic clicks of her heels. 

I was careful. I was quiet. Soon, I heard her quick gasps as she slowed. She didn’t see me in the shadows this time. We were alone in the maze of back alleyways. Flickering streetlights crackled above us. I couldn’t have picked a better location myself.

She peeked around a corner. That little black dress pulled up slightly on her toned bottom. She looked like a treat waiting to be unwrapped.

I crept up behind her.

And grabbed that fucking tease of a ponytail.

She cried out as I wrenched her head back, her hands flying up to where I grabbed her.

“Took you long enough,” she jeered.

There was just no quit in her. So snarky, so petulant. I couldn’t wait to break her.

I yanked harder, making her gasp.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweet thing.” I murmured against her ear, my voice dripping mock concern. “Did I keep you waiting?”

 I clamped a hand over her mouth and shoved her against the brick wall. Her ass pressed against my upper thigh.

She lashed out, kicking back. Her arms were wild, trying to connect with some part of my body. The tip of her heel found my shin and bit in. I hissed, dragging my hand from her mouth to her throat, squeezing her. Her pulse fluttered under my touch. I kicked her legs apart, unbalancing her and slammed my whole body on top of hers.

I was so fucking hard.

“You knew what you were doing when you walked up to me, didn’t you?” I rasped into her ear.

I abandoned her ponytail and shoved my hand up under her dress.

And froze.

No underwear.

My hand met scorching skin, her core slick and swollen. Two fingers slid into it easily. An anguished moan fell from her as she arched back into me. Using the hand still wrapped around her throat, I yanked her against me, burying my erection into her back.

“Walking into a bar and talking to a strange man with no panties on. What would your father say if he knew?”

I felt her blush. The racing heat warmed my body as she fought against me, twisting.

“Does he know he raised such dirty girl?”

“Does your mother know her son is a judgmental prick?”

Her voice shook as she fired back, and I barked a cruel laugh.

“Of course, she doesn’t. I’m her perfect fucking boy.”

I punctuated my retort with a hard slap on that sweet ass. She yelped in surprise. But I wasn’t done with her.

I inserted a third finger inside, salivating over her delirious whimpers. My thumb found that tender bud between her thighs and pressed on it. Hard. My nail bit into it.

A soundless scream as her mouth opened. I spun her around, catching it on my own. She tasted like whiskey and oranges. My tongue fucked her mouth relentlessly as she clutched at my shirt, her little fists trembling. She was on her tiptoes, even in the heels.

So, I scooped her up and pinned her back against the wall. Her legs instinctively wrapped themselves over my hips. I yanked her dress up, loving how her skin pimpled from the cool night breeze.

Her arms hooked around my neck as she groaned. I then used the leverage to quickly unfasten my belt and pants, pulling my aching cock free. It slapped against her center, a prelude to what was to come.

She looked at me, her eyes wet. Savage want pooled in her gaze. She wanted this.

I could still stop. I could still walk away. I should.

But, fuck it, she was already ruined. And so was I.

I didn’t waste a single moment; I centered myself and thrusted up into her filthy heat.

And the world went white.

How was she this tight?

Brutal need took over as I pounded into her. Her back scraping up against the brick with each thrust. Her hair came undone, cascading down over her face. Her eyes closed as she quietly whimpered. Tears dripped off her lashes and I lapped them up greedily.

Her dress was a crumpled mess, her hair tousled, her make-up smudged.

Yet all I could see was a goddess.

She clenched, clamping like a motherfucking vice, and I sucked back a growl. I was frantic. The edge was there. I was going to carry us both to it and hurl our bodies over it.

Her nails dug into the back of my neck as she bit her lip, throwing her head back as her orgasm crashed into the both of us, milking me until I shuddered. A stream of cum shot out of me, ripping a strangled cry from my lips.

We stayed like that, pressed up against the wall for several moments. My head fell onto her shoulder. Her heart drummed in my ear. Her breath was quick and shallow. I have never been so spent in my entire life.

Her voice, soft and almost weightless, broke the silence.

“Missy.”

I lifted my head and stared. Her face glowed through the mess of hair and tears.

“My name is Missy.”

I let her down, cradled her face, and kissed her.

Gently.

On the lips.

I lingered there for half an age. My heartbeat painfully fast in my chest.

What was wrong with me?

“Goddamn it, Missy, what have you done to me?”

She giggled - like a fucking schoolgirl.

“What I’ve done to you? Mister, look at me! What have you’ve done to me?”

I laughed and tried to help adjust her dress, hissing at the rash where the brick sandpapered her back, and smoothed down her hair.

I didn’t want her to go. I swallowed thickly.

“My car is just around the corner…”

She didn’t hesitate, “Okay.”

She looked up at me confidently, like she somehow won in this exchange.

Maybe she did.

I couldn’t describe what I felt at that moment but time blurred as I rushed to pay the bill at the bar, grab the car, and pick her up in the alleyway.

I drove us to my house where we showered before collapsing on the bed together, falling asleep in each other’s arms.

The next morning, I made Missy breakfast, and we laughed and then fucked on the countertop.

For the first time ever, life felt easy. It was effortless with her.

But then Missy needed to go home so she called an Uber, and I reluctantly waved her off.

It wasn’t until later that day that I realized I didn’t get her fucking number.

...

I told myself I’d forget her. Eventually.

Until two weeks later, a familiar ponytail and dark eyes found mine as I stepped onto the work elevator.

And…and she fucking beamed at me.

***

End of Part 1

***

Part Two - To The Victor Go The Spoils drops next Friday!
How do you think Mister & Missy will reconnect? Let me know what you think in the comments!

Like what you read? Check out my other Mister and Missy stories:

Story #1: Asked for It

Story #2: Pain in the Ass

Story #3: Paying It Back... (Part 1)

Story #4: Paying It Back...With Interest (Part 2)