Paul’s Trophy Wife Chapter 25

Chapter 25

“Oh, I knew you’d like it!” She gushed, grabbing her glass and holding it up for him to clink together, then they both sipped on their drink.

“What? Did you bartend in college or something?” Paul asked as she walked around, joining him on the barstool next to him.

“Oh no, ha,” she laughed, shaking her head. “I’m a spoiled little rich girl, I’ve never had to work.”

Paul rolled his eyes as she snorted, giggling and laughing and grabbing his hand, wrapping her fingers around his.

“No, I’ve been making cocktails since I was like, what, seven?” she shrugged, frowning a little. “Mommy and Daddy loved their afternoon martinis, or their morning bloody mary’s, or their late night negronis.”

The look on her face was a confusing mixture of sadness and memories, and Paul reached forward, petting her, and she blushed.

“You’re wonderful, you really are,” he told her, and she looked away, crossing her legs.

“Enough about me, Paul,” she smiled, sipping her drink, then she stood up.

Paul laughed, watching her stand up and grab a record off the shelf, putting on an Otis Redding album and turning the music on low, returning to her seat, bending over it and lifting her dress, showing off her lack of panties and the plug resting tight in her ass.

“I’ve been such a good girl for you,” he whimpered, lowering it back down. “I’ve been wearing it all day, and yesterday too.”

“Wow,” paul laughed, finishing his drink, and she blushed, pulling her dress back down and turning to him, looking away.

“May I ask for something, sir?” She whimpered, stepping up towards him, her fingers running up and down his chest.

“Anything, kitten,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“I want to know more about you,” she begged, “You know my story, tell me yours.”

Paul sighed, smiling, then he finished his drink and she immediately jumped back behind the bag, mixing them both another round while he started.

He told her everything he could think of: growing up not exactly poor, but watching his parents struggle, being slightly awkward and boring, his life revolving around his grades and video games, books and comic books, never really partying or having fun, staying in and smoking weed with his friends instead, and now the dismal idea of going to the local community college over the nicer private institutions he’d been accepted to, all in the name of frugality and saving money.

Valerie listened intently to everything, rubbing Paul’s skin and brushing her fingers through his hair as he talked.

“How much would your tuition cost?” She finally asked.

“Oh, I don’t know, after the scholarships I could get? At my first choice? Probably around 30k a year.” He told her, and she shrugged a little.

“That’s not so bad,” she told him, smiling faintly.

“Ha, says the woman with a rich husband,” Paul laughed, rolling his eyes, and she slapped his arm.

“Hey! Excuse you! I have my own money!” She laughed, rubbing the spot that she’d slapped. “I mean, it’s all wrapped up in CD’s and bonds and-

“Seriously?” Paul asked, surprised. “Then why did you marry Roger? Why does he pay for everything?”

Valerie groaned a little, swallowing what was left of her martini and rolling her eyes.

“I married Roger because I thought he would take care of me, and we had fun together, well, we used to,” she sighed, standing up and getting behind the bar.

“And as for letting him pay for everything, well, why wouldn’t I?” She giggled, grabbing a couple bottles and mixing herself another drink, then making another for Paul, even though he wasn’t close to being done with his manhattan.

“Try this, it’s a negroni, it’s like a gin martini only with campari,” She told him, and he sipped it.

“Oh, not bad,” Paul smiled, and she leaned forward, resting her head in her palms, her eyelids fluttering as she gazed into Paul’s eyes.

“You know I could pay for your tuition, easily,” she told him, smiling, and his eyes lit up.

“Really? You’d do that?” He asked, almost choking on his drink.

“Oh, well, no, I mean, I could,” she giggled, shaking her head. “But if I did that, that would mean you’d leave, go off to college, probably get some awful little girlfriend, and I’d never get to see you.”

Paul shook his head, laughing a little.

“Yeah, I would have to leave town,” he shrugged, and she stood up straight, smiling at him, looking away impishly.

“Exactly, and I can’t have that,” she smiled, walking back around towards him, leaning over her barstool and lifting her skirt, showing off the plug in her ass. “Especially when I’m such a bad little whore, and need you to punish me, every day, sir.”

“Speaking of which,” Paul laughed, looking at his watch. “I think I’ve had enough of you teasing me.”

He leaned over and spanked her bare ass and she bounced, flinching at his touch.