"Oh, God … " I whisper, his lips sucking my folds dry. He jabs at my insides with his tongue, pushing it past my inner lips and using it to lick his cum. Pulling back, he goes up to his feet, his eyes never leaving mine. He doesn't say a word, he just leans into me with slightly parted lips, his semen making his mouth glisten.
I close my eyes as he kisses me, pushing my tongue inside his mouth. His salty flavor inundates me at once, and I just have to open my mouth wide. I take all the cum he holds inside his mouth, feeling thick drops of it dripping down my chin. When my mouth's full, I finally pull back, my heart almost ready to burst.
"Swallow," he says with a wicked smile, drops of semen still hanging on his lips. I don't even filter his command; I just do it. I swallow every single drop of cum, feeling its harsh manly flavor burning down my throat. "Good girl," he tells me, leaning into me for one final kiss.
Arsen Hawke, where the hell did you come from?
68
Arsen
The rays of the sun wake me up from probably the most relaxing fucking sleep I've ever had in my life. I turn around and see the mass of straight, blonde hair, and an arm wrapped around me. In any given morning, you'd probably expect that this would be a normal occurrence. But you'd be wrong. Because I would never have even let them stay till morning.
But today?
Today, it's different. Today I actually smile when I feel Ashley's nails lightly scrape over my chest. I let my mind wander as I feel her thigh nestle itself against my naked groin. My cock starts coming to life as I reach over and feel her tight, perky ass within arms reach. I can feel her pussy pressed against my upper thigh. 50 million nerves are attuned to the feeling of her folds on my skin. I could fucking get lost in her body more than I've ever gotten lost in anything in my goddamn life.
But then I hear the beeping coming from the other room. I sigh. It's the fucking video phone. Most likely it's Gerard. It must have been going on for a while because the beeps, or rings, increase in frequency the longer someone is trying to reach me.
As carefully as I can, I extricate myself from Ashley's grasp and get out of bed.
I look over at her beautiful fucking body still asleep. She's so fucking cute. Like a button. Her mouth is slightly open as she breaths in and out and all I want to do is wake her up and eat her pussy again. Then fuck her with my throbbing cock until she passes out like she almost did last night. Then cum all over her and have her suck me dry. God, all I want to do is fuck her so badly. I can tell this is going to lead to problems ahead. Can't you?
But guess what?
I don't fucking care. And yes, I had to say ‘fucking' in there. To emphasize the fuc … the point.
The beeping continues and jars me out of my sexual fantasy and I pad over to the living room. I see who's calling and see that it is in fact, Gerard. I accept the call and before you ask, yes I'm naked. But that's fine because I arrange the camera to just capture my upper body; I don't think Gerard is going to mind seeing me shirtless. But I wouldn't want him to see my giant cock. He's my friend and I don't want him to feel any level of insecurity or envy, you know?
"Sorry to call so early, Arsen," Gerard says once he comes on the screen. I look at the clock. It's 7:30 am. He's already dressed in a crisp suit and tie, sitting in his office downtown. The guy must wake up at around 5 to get there from the Upper East Side.
‘It's not a problem, Gerard," I say as I leave the field of vision for a moment to turn on the coffee maker in the kitchen. "What can I do for you?"
"Actually, I have some good news, if that's what you're calling it," Gerard says as I come back into view. "Mr. Giannoni has come back from his clients and he's stating that we might have a tentative offer on a few more of the properties that we're looking to sell."
"Which ones?" I ask. This is key.
There's a pause from Gerard before he answers. "He's prepared to purchase the whole portfolio, sir."
The entire thing?
In one shot, I could be done with Dad's ridiculous smut business? I could free myself from the filth that he peddled?
"Everything, Gerard?" I ask again, raising my eyebrows. "In one swoop?"
Gerard shrugs. "He certainly seems amenable to taking the entirety of your holdings. But if I would suggest an alternative, I would say that we do it piece meal."
The method doesn't really matter to me. If I can get rid of everything, then this is something I should totally look into.
But one thing bothers me.
"Gerard, who does this lawyer represent?" I ask. If I'm going to be giving up Dad's life work for some cash, I want to know who I'm selling it to. Despite the fact that it's all X-rated smut, I want to make sure at least that I'm not fucking over the people who do the work day in and day out. And that could easily happen if I end up selling to someone shady.
"I can certainly find that out, sir," Gerard says. "However the buying party is going to be an LLC based out of Delaware, most likely."
That makes sense. You want to know the easiest country to launder money in? It's not fucking Switzerland, or the Bahamas. It's right here. The United States of America. With our secretive banking laws and the ability for one company to own another, anyone can buy anything while still remaining fucking hidden from the world.
"I'm not comfortable selling the entire fucking company if I don't know who I'm selling it to, Gerard," I say into the video monitor. "I just want to know where all these people's livelihoods are going to end up."
"I agree, sir," Gerard says. "We wouldn't want to sell to someone who is completely disreputable, but I also want to point out that there will be a certain level of … "
"Seediness?" I ask with a smile.
Gerard smiles at me. "A certain type of character who will come to define the market, yes," he agrees with me. And yeah, he's got a fucking point. I mean, you're not going to see blue chip companies like Disney try to buy the Sex Palace on 3rd Avenue that my Dad built in 2010, or the Swinger's Club in Miami. That's not going to be purchased by Coca-Cola. But still, I want some type of fucking standards.
"I mean, who is this guy representing? Is it a company? Or a person? Something, anything, is all I'm looking for," I tell Gerard.
"Maybe we should start our transactions with a limited subset of properties then and try to ascertain more information," Gerard suggests.
That's a pretty good idea. Give this Mr. Giannoni something and then dangle the prize in front of him in exchange for more information.
"I like that," I tell Gerard. "Why don't we sell the entire strip club portfolio first and see what we can find out?"
I'm not worried about selling the strip clubs. The only real employees in a strip club are the managers and the bouncers and they're all tough as fucking nails. Dad had strip clubs from Myrtle Beach to San Francisco to New York City. Even if its fucking ISIS buying these clubs, the girls will all be able to simply move on and the guys that work there-heaven help anyone that tries to fuck around with them.
"Agreed, let's get the paperwork sorted on that. And what do you think the earliest we can prepare for signature would … " I don't get a chance to finish because Gerard interrupts me.
"I think we can discuss this a little later on today, sir," he says and my eyes flash up to see him on the monitor. He's looking past me, somehow. "I didn't realize I was bothering you, Arsen. Thought you normally slept alone."
I turn around and see Ashley standing at the door to my bedroom. She's looking into the living room, wearing one of my collared shirts.
God, she looks so fucking cute.
I barely get a chance to register as Gerard says goodbye and hangs up. He probably felt a bit awkward, which is a fucking riot considering that we were talking about selling off pieces of a sex empire.
But who cares about business deals when the hottest fucking girl is standing just a few feet away from me wearing nothing but my shirt?
"Who were you talking to?" Ashley asks, as she takes a step closer to me.
"My lawyer, Gerard," I say, desperately aware that my cock is starting to harden and stick up. Ashley notices too.
"I overslept," she says, rubbing her eyes.
"That's okay," I say, standing still. "I was going to come back to bed … "
"No, that's okay," Ashley says and I can see her hands come up and begin to fiddle with the buttons. She's got a bit of bed head, and for the millionth fucking time I think how goddamn cute she looks.
"What was he talking about?" Ashley asks me, coming up to me. "Selling strip clubs?"
Oh. Fuck.
Here it is, isn't it. I never fucking told her what I do. Where all this money comes from.
But what have I always told you?
That I'm going to be fucking honest. No matter what.