Office Hours Ch. 05

All characters are at least 18 years old.

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Hank

"Is this what it feels like to have your dad drop you off at work?"

I looked blankly over at Jean sat in my passenger seat. "Huh?"

She tittered, almost like it was a joke for herself. "Sorry, that was a strange thing to ask," she said, before peering over at me inquisitively. "You like being called 'daddy?'"

"No," I said as my face scrunched up, which made my delivery sound sour. "Jean, what are you even talking about?"

I had just parked in the lot near the night club, shortly before Jean's shift started. It hadn't taken long into our relationship for her to start asking strange questions, I mused. Had to keep an eye on her.

She looked over at me with a devious grin. "Ah, that's right. You like 'sir' better, don't you." She shook her head, chuckling as I sighed uncomfortably. "I thought you were gonna rip through your pants during class today."

"Was it that obvious?" I breathed, filling with dread.

"You did a good job of hiding it, but I was looking for it. Just gotta hope nobody else was as observant." We got out of the car and began walking over to the club.

"It's probably what tipped Lexi off," I growled, kicking myself internally.

"If she becomes a problem, I'll find a way to deal with her," she said firmly. I raised a brow at that, and she rolled her eyes. "She's just some stuck-up flirt. I can handle her."

"Maybe try to avoid a direct confrontation," I advised. "Or maybe I should handle that situation myself."

"You're too nice," she replied simply. "Somebody like her, she's not gonna back off just 'cause you said something." We crossed the street, and she turned to me. "Prof, I wanna be the one to do it. It's... important to me."

I studied her for a moment before nodding my assent. "Sure. Anyway, you should probably get going. I'll see you inside?"

She nodded as well before giving me a wave as she headed over to the butcher shop. Hold on, what? I frowned as she disappeared inside the well-lit store, past a rotund butcher and into the back room. Was this a hidden employee entrance or something? Just how secretive was this club? As I made my way to the front door, I reasoned that with their clientele in mind, the secrecy was probably necessary. Some of those girls in there were probably calling their partners "daddy" for a very different reason. I grunted in discomfort at the thought. My recent experience with affairs of that nature were still a bit too fresh to want to ponder that concept for too long.

After coming here three days in a row, the bouncers didn't even card me before letting me in. I found my usual spot and settled in, noting the absence of the large man once again. The sexy nun waved at me as she passed by, giving me a strange feeling when I returned it. I was a regular now. I wasn't sure how I felt about what kind of person that made me. Perhaps it wasn't necessarily bad, but... I sighed. I had to remind myself that I was only here for Jean.

Speaking of whom, the young lady herself came sauntering over. I suppose "lady" is a bit of a stretch, I chuckled to myself, given how unladylike Jean usually was. But it was interesting to now see who she was underneath that tough exterior. It was fleeting, but she was starting to show through the cracks.

She set my martini down in front of me before sliding into the booth, a cherry-red cosmo in her hand. "One of the perks of this job? Free drinks," she said with an impish grin.

"They're not free," I pointed out, slightly irked. "They're put on my tab."

"I didn't say nobody had to pay for them. I just said they're free for me." She raised her glass to toast me before taking a large sip, smacking her lips and sighing in satisfaction.

I chuckled and shook my head. "So are you my girlfriend, or my sugar baby?"

"You sure you don't want me to start calling you 'daddy?'" she laughed, the last word spoken in an intentionally childlike manner, and once again I recoiled. "Heh, alright. Thanks for the drinks, boyfie."

"That's not a real thing," I muttered in distaste.

"It is, unfortunately," Jean replied in equal disgust. Her eyes glittered, losing their playfulness in favor of something more erotic. Bedroom eyes. Her voice dropped accordingly, settling in a croon. "Thank you, sir."

My eyes flared, burning into her with stoked ardor. I took the glass from her and set it on the table, then pulled her into my lap before pressing my lips to hers. Her eyes were wide with panic, but after a few seconds her arms wrapped around my shoulders, her hands pawing at my back as if to draw me even closer. We were short of breath when we parted, and she immediately tried to fill the relative silence.

"Well shit, you really like that word, huh?" she joked, brushing her hair out of her face. Without waiting for a response, she reached for her drink and downed the whole thing. She was creating distance again, as if afraid of admitting how much she enjoyed this. I couldn't decide how much was just how teenagers acted, especially around adults, and how much was her personality.

"Stop playing dumb," I scolded with a smirk. She was rubbing against my hardness, fully aware of what she did to me. With a cheeky grin, she squirmed on my lap, though it quickly gave way to a somewhat lustful expression. Her eyes flitted downward before meeting my gaze.

"You know what we should do...?" she said conspiratorially, glancing out toward the dancers before climbing off of me.

"What are you up to?" I asked, and she answered by undoing my belt. I grabbed her wrists, head spinning back and forth in alarm as I checked for probing looks from the other patrons. "Jean! What do you think you're doing?!"

"Thanking you for the drinks," she replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"But there are people around!" I hissed.

"For fuck's sake. Remember what I told you about this place? Nobody's gonna give a fuck. Now stop being a bitch." She shoved my hands away before undoing my pants, yanking out my manhood before I could protest. Then she froze, eyes locked onto it for a long while before she started tilting it this way and that, looking it over from different angles.

"Never seen one before?"

"Nah. Guess I'm lucky none of my foster dads tried to show me theirs, huh?"

The thought of child abuse wasn't exactly sexy, and I started to wilt a bit in her hand. One circle rubbed with her thumb had me right back up, however, and she continued to study it. A few of the dancers had noticed what was going on, and while I doubted they could see that I was exposed, they could definitely tell what Jean was up to.

She gathered a bit of saliva together, then spat a wad straight onto my trousers. "Fuck! Sorry, missed," she laughed, attempting to scoop it up onto her finger. Instead, this resulted in her rubbing it into the fabric, and she sighed in frustration before leaning closer to spit again. Yeah, this was definitely her first time.

Warm liquid oozed onto my member, and I let out a short groan as it spread across my tip. She leaned down again, this time with her mouth open, though with no shortage of nerves. "Jean, you don't have to," I said firmly.

She looked up at me, then turned back to my cock. "I know." Then she lowered her lips onto me, letting them spread as she took me into her mouth. The glob of saliva was painted onto my length, and I groaned when I felt her tongue on me. Her movements were a bit awkward, but knowing that this was her first blowjob turned me on way more than any skill she might have had. I groaned in pleasure and leaned back, gaze settling on the dance floor. Some were pointing us out to their partners, and we were garnering a bit of an audience. Yet for some reason, I couldn't care less. In fact, it might have amplified the sensation.

My cock was entering her mouth at an odd angle, and suddenly Jean gagged. So fucking hot. I pulled her hair away from her face before burying my fingers into her locks, keeping her head in a gentle hold. Drool dripped down to my balls as she choked on me, her body spasming a few times before I let her up for air. A string of white spittle was on her chin as she gasped a few lungfuls, and she checked my expression.

It must have been to her liking, because she dove right back down before I figured she was ready. Between the exhibitionism and my excitement over her inexperience, it wasn't long before I was thrusting up into her mouth, feeling the surge of cum pouring out of me. She gagged again, but sucked the load up and pulled herself off of me. Holding it in her mouth, lips pursed, she looked like she was struggling to swallow it. After squeezing her eyes shut in displeasure, she grabbed her empty glass and spat the white seed into it.

"Sorry," she muttered, studying the viscous liquid.

"Don't be. I know it probably doesn't taste very good. I can't expect you to do something I wouldn't do."

She swirled the cum in her glass a couple of times before suddenly tipping the contents back into her mouth. This time, she gulped it down, sighing almost in satisfaction. And I don't know what it was, but seeing her drink it out of a glass led to a different kind of arousal than watching her take the load straight from the source. It was hard to describe. But she had swallowed in the end, and it only left me wanting more.

"That was amazing," I breathed. "Jean..."

"It's actually not too bad," she remarked before turning to me. "If you liked that... guess I could do that more. I'll do better next time!" She seemed to catch herself, realizing how desperate for approval she sounded, and clamped up sheepishly. I smiled and brought her in for a kiss, and she put up some slight resistance before obliging.

"You were already incredible," I murmured to her, and she blushed before wriggling away from me.

"I'm gonna... I'm getting another drink. So..." She stepped out of the booth, patting down her skirt before awkwardly walking toward the bar. I put my member away, still in disbelief at what just happened. I felt myself beginning to agonize over my morals again, and decided to nip it in the bud. She wanted this, I wanted this. This was just a blowjob. I could think myself to death when we finally got down to doing the deed, but for now I could just go with the flow.

She came back with a Long Island iced tea, so she seemed to enjoy the drink. Or maybe she just needed the liquid to wash her mouth out with. "Hey, I wanted to ask you: are you going to be working during the break?" I asked.

"They gave me the holiday off," she replied, looking a bit troubled. It was likely she would have preferred to earn some extra money while school was out. "I'm overdue on my rent. Really coulda used some work." And so my suspicions were correct.

"Overdue rent?" I repeated, growing worried. "Do you need me to lend you some cash?"

"No!" she almost shouted before catching herself. "No. I got it handled. It's just..." She ran a hand through her hair, fingers clenching tensely in her locks. "It's fine." She stole a glance at me before focusing on her tall glass. "Thanks," she finished in a mumble.

How was I not supposed to worry about her? But she didn't want my help, so it was best to let her handle it. It looked like she had something to prove, so I had to stay out of it. Her words also just revealed that she was living alone. She was on her own, trying to put herself through school, becoming an adult. I couldn't help but smile at her.

"How 'bout I drive you home tonight?" I prompted. "It looks like rain, and honestly a lone girl shouldn't be out that late at night. I really shoulda driven you yesterday too."

"I..." She looked like she was having another battle with herself, before finally she nodded without meeting my eyes. "Okay. Thanks."

I put an arm around her shoulder and she finally looked up at me, exposed. The vulnerable girl that she was was bared, and I admired how brave she was. Some people had to grow up so quickly, and it was a shame. But those that survived became strong, and they just needed some shelter every once in a while.

I leaned down and kissed her forehead, and she tried to play the sudden intimacy off. But she was blushing again, making me smile. There was no hiding it; she liked being cared for.

I am your shelter, Jean.

—

I woke up early to the sound of thunder. The rain was coming down hard, making for a gloomy holiday. Happy Thanksgiving, I thought with a chuckle. I didn't plan to go home this year. After what happened over the summer, I didn't feel like seeing my parents for some time. I'd give my brothers a call later, though. Needed to check up on them, after all.

I got out of bed and went about starting my day, slightly glum that I wouldn't be seeing Jean. It turned out she lived in... a shit hole, put simply. A rundown apartment a few blocks from my home, right on the cusp of the bad side of town. If she was having trouble with even rent like that, she was definitely strapped for cash. But she didn't want my help. Argh, what to do?! Was it inappropriate if I told her I wanted to see her? I could invite her to dinner, at least. We were both alone for the holiday, so it made sense. Another phone call I'd have to make later in the day.

I was making breakfast when somebody hammered at my door, and I looked up in puzzlement. I wasn't expecting anybody. I took the eggs off the heat and wiped my hands off before heading over to the door. And speak of the devil and she will appear. Standing on my doorstep, soaked through with rain and clutching four large filled trash bags, was Jean.