“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he finally tells me, his own cum glistening on his delicious lips.
“And, still, it’s not the first time you’ve done it,” I smile, wiping one drop of cum from his chin with the tip of my fingers. “And you love it.”
“I do… when I’m with you, I love every single fucking thing,” he says before crushing his mouth against mine once more.
And it’s true; I could say the exact same thing about him.
When we’re together, everything’s perfect.
Amy
Two weeks.
That’s how long New York has been in a state of siege. Because, make no mistake about it, this is a siege. The mayor and the governor—my stepfather and my mother—have clashed over my company, and now the fate of New York City hangs in the balance.
Newspaper and cable networks keep on harping about this standoff, and it seems that the scales are tilting in my mother’s favor. Point by point, the lead Parker had over my mom is now eroding steadily.
Her little stunt with the state troopers has paid off, and even after she doubled down on the stunt, it kept paying off.
The city is slowly plummeting into chaos and, instead of seeing the governor as the culprit, a lot of people are turning their accusing fingers toward Parker and I. It got to the point where I relented and asked Parker to allow the state troopers to close down my company.
Of course, he’s refused. Kinky Amy’s stays open and 8 million people are doing without basic services.
As much as I love my company, I simply can’t stand watching the city where I've grown up tear itself apart. Trash is piling up on the streets, the public transportation system is in complete chaos, and there doesn’t seem to be an end in sight to this madness. My mom has cut off all state funding, and Parker has spent the better part of these last two weeks trying to patch a temporary solution over the countless problems that have arisen.
He’s gotten a number of companies and wealthy individuals to lend the city money and things are progressing slowly - lurching from one crisis to the next.
Which is getting harder to do, especially now that the international community is getting involved.
Thirty-seven.
Thirty-seven countries have expressed their concern over what’s happening in New York City. Apparently, cities standing up to state governments with guns is something that the United Nations really does care about. Even countries like North Korea have reprimanded Parker Trask for what they perceive to be “an assault on authority.”
Oh, the irony.
Of course, my mother’s piggybacking on all that. She even made a speech to the UN - live video streamed from the statehouse, all teary-eyed about her beloved city and her corrupt and indecent family. We watched her speech at Parker’s office and, if he hadn’t stopped me, I’d have kicked and punched the TV until it became nothing more than splinters of plastic, glass, and wire.
That’s how mad I was.
Thirty.
It took me thirty minutes to pack my bags and move to Gracie Mansion. It’s surprising how little you need when you’re moving in with someone you love. Sure, I love all my makeup and expensive lingerie, but everything I needed—at least for the time being—fit inside two travel bags.
Parker invited me to move in with him because he wanted me close to him every day… But there was more to it than that, of course. He wanted to keep me safe. With the city descending into chaos, he didn’t deem it safe for me to stay alone in my apartment. My mom’s been growing more erratic with each passing day, and there’s no telling what she can do.
And yeah, I’m talking about murder; let’s not sugarcoat this. Do I really think she’d be capable of doing it? I don’t know, I really don’t, and that’s what scares me… Because, right now, I think my mother would be capable of anything to secure her power.
But not everything’s bad. Moving in with Parker has paved the way to good things… Love in time of war and all that.
Forty-five.
That’s how many times we’ve had sex. Approximately. I mean, the number’s probably higher than that, and it’s not like I keep count. I’m just doing an educated guess.
I’m a bit ashamed to say it, but I feel like we’ve done it in almost every room of the Gracie Mansion. And the place is huge. I know, if the world knew that Parker and I have been fucking like rabbits while the city is in a downward spiral, people would just straight up riot and nail us to a cross. But, hey, what are we supposed to? It’s not like we’re lazing around while the city goes up in flames. In fact, it’s just the opposite.