Mr. President 1(154)

“Yeah, absolutely,” I lie, feeling no remorse about it. Intense? C’mon, the only real reason I needed him was because I wanted something more alive than a vibrator, otherwise I wouldn’t be here with him.

He takes the condom out, places it inside the wrapper, and then pushes his pants up. He takes one cigarette out of the pocket in his shirt, but I just pluck it out from his hands and crush it under my heel.

“No smoking in here darlin', you know the rules,” I say with a pout.

“Do you have to be so uptight all the time?” he protests, but gives up on looking for the lighter in his pockets.

“That’s why you love me so much,” I tell him, picking up my clothes from the floor.

“Don’t push your luck, Destiny,” he says, and then falls silent. He smacks his lips together, an annoying tick of his whenever he’s deep in thought, and the looks me in the eyes. This can’t be good.

“Out with it, Lester,” I say. “What’s on your mind? I’ve already paid you your cut for the month, so don’t come asking for money because there’s none for you.”

I’m really hoping he isn’t looking to raise his tax. I’m actually making a lot of money with the club, but on the other hand I make sure to share the profits with my dancers. I know how tough it is to thrive in this world, and I want my girls to be taken care of.#p#分页标题#e#

“No, it’s not that,” Lester says, looking at me with interest. “Have you ever heard about the Python Nightclub?”

“Python? Isn’t that the club for women only in Queens?” I ask, thinking to myself. I’ve heard of it before. “The one making all the headlines?” I ask to clarify.

I don’t know much about that club, but the hype about it is incredible. You’d think that they’re handing out cocks made of gold in there.

“That’s the one,” Lester says nodding. “I need you to go there.”

“Me?” I ask. “Why would I go there?”

Lester is silent as I look at him. “I have enough on my plate as it is, I really can’t waste my time fooling around, Lester,” I start, but I can tell that he isn’t even listening to me.

“There’s something shady going on in that place, Destiny, and I need you to be my ears and eyes in that place,” he tells me. He looks like he believes what he’s saying. “I can’t send a cop because it would attract too much attention right now.”

I’m still not convinced. Lester can see that.

So he continues with a sigh. “There’s a woman… A dangerous one. She’s a street hooker known for robbing her clients. She's even murdered a few. I think she’s running a sex trafficking ring, and I need to get to her, and I need to do it fast… But the owner of Python isn’t letting anyone in without a warrant, so I need you to do this for me.”

Me? Investigating a sex trafficking ring? You gotta be fucking kidding me. I’m not Sherlock Holmes, for God’s sake.

“No, you’re crazy if you expect me to--”

“This isn’t up for discussion. I want you there, or the Dirty Destiny might have a surprise inspection from the NYPD Vice.”

The bastard. If he wasn’t the commissioner I’d just punch him right now. “Go there, and try to either get a job or find some way to get inside and be a fixture at the bar,” Lester says with finality.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he finishes, and I stand there in silence, holding my blouse and skirt to my chest as he bolts out of the door and leaves me by myself in the room.

Fuck it, what can I do?

Time to pay Python a visit.





64





Austin





"Take it off! Take it off! Take it off!" A chant erupts from the fucking crowd.

You gotta love fucking 8 pm.

Seriously. That’s all that’s going on here. 8 fucking pm and these ladies are already like ravenous beasts looking for a meal.

I mean, sure, the ladies love a man with a long hose, and tonight, Maverick, one of our dudes, is on the stage with a Fireman costume on.

Yeah, hose? You catch that, doll?

I’m talking about his fucking cock.

He knows where his money comes from. He’s on stage stripping it all off and the women are screaming, and I fucking mean screaming with the energy of a goddamn jet engine. Might be like banshees, but banshees with dollar bills, doll. Fuck yeah.

Maverick is flexing his abs now, his muscular arms raised above his head. He flashes them a smile that's fucking whiter than a brand new pair of tighty whiteys.

You like that don’t you?

You wish you were here with these women now too, huh?