Until about twenty seconds after we met and we both were like, “oh shit.”
For him, well, Darren knew that when I screwed up my face, walked past him, and took a nap in his bed, he knew that I was going to be more than he counted on having to handle.
For me, it was the just before I walked past him. He told me he owned me and that we could go over the rules tomorrow.
I mean, at that point, I just assumed it was good to be outtie, but he seemed to be expecting more. “Do you have makeup remover?” I yell out from his bedroom. He has a swanky executive suite right off his office. Honestly it is a little sad that he’s so tied to work. I say this as someone who literally worked my own ass off for a company that folded and left me high and dry, so I get it. You recognize your own, you know, and we were both workaholics.
“The agency dolled me up like this and I so don’t need to look like a human-raccoon hybrid when I wake up in the morning, you know?” I say, and Darren walks into his bedroom and looks at me, stupefied.
“Okay, you can get that for me then. I need some rest, sitting and getting your hair and makeup done and stuff is pretty exhausting. Not to mention a waxing…” I start and okay, I really don’t want to finish that sentence. That’s something to handle later.
A girl makes a deal, she has to keep good on it. But…I am still a virgin and the idea of changing that right now has me ready to crawl into a corner. And mostly I just want to sleep.
“The rules, tomorrow?” I say finally, and pull the bed sheets up over me. I don’t even have to fake my yawn.
“Tomorrow,” Darren says, his voice sounding far away. I watch his butt as he walks away and I must say, that is a damn fine butt.
I mean, if you’re going to sell your virginity to a rich man, isn’t it better that he’s gorgeous and totally lets you act loony so you can go to bed?
Hint: it so is!
Darren
Yesterday, I had a blonde, a brunette, a redhead, and a raven-haired girl all sharing my cock, sucking my dick until I thought that shit might empty out of me with a force that would knock me over. I had the BJ appointment in the books with the rest of my meetings.
But then my fucking assistant. She keeps an eye on my margins, updates my ‘dashboard.’
And today’s dashboard is about how I told myself I’d find myself a suitable girl to settle down with.
Fuck, it all sounds depressing, until I realized that this is the first BJ appointment that I’ve had in weeks. I’m too damn busy with work to even pick out the girls I want to suck my cock. I stopped picking up my own girls and I started ordering them a while ago, but now I don’t even have time to look at the menu. That’s why I ended up ordering one of everything.
That’s why I ordered someone up from the Waterstone Agency. They sell the finest girls who sign up to belong to wealthy assholes like me that don’t have time to find what they want. So they buy it. Generally they’re hot girls that need to make a horizontal move upward. You know, fuck their way into a higher tax bracket.
Well, I’m here to be helpful. I’ll be a good boy. I’m not going to break any of the rules. And I paid top dollar for one of their virgins. I like the idea of having something and someone all to myself.
You look at me — I’ve got perfect fucking hair, for fuck’s sake. I wear suits softer than a newborn baby’s ass and I look so fucking hot I can smell the wet panties of women around me.
I’m prime fucking meat, but I’m busy. I love my work. I love to fuck, but the thrill isn’t in the hunt for me because pussy always falls into my lap.
So why not just buy?
Well, that was before Jenny.
Jenny who is nervous. Understandable. I watch her fidget while I drink in her slender body, her little handful tits and that ass that makes me want to hold up her thighs and bounce her on my dick like a fucking toy.
Jenny’s hot as hell, and though she’s attracted to me — every woman is — she lets her fear take over for just a second. Instead of leaning into her arousal, she fucking goes batshit on me!
Now I’m walking out of my bedroom and she wants me to get her some makeup remover?
My assistant Genovee can handle that. I wave my hand at her and explain.
She laughs a little. That’s fine. Damn women is like a mother to me since my mother spends more time doing lines of cock off the dicks of whatever dude she’s pounding for cash. All dear mommy’s money goes up her nose…
So, yeah, I tell Genovee with a dismissive little hand gesture that I need makeup remover, and she gets to make a judgmental sound and I don’t care much.
I pace back to my office. But I can’t get shit done. I’m back through the wall and into my office.