Half an hour later and I’m ready to go. I take a spin in front of my full-body mirror, smiling as I see how perfectly the dress hugs the curves of my body. Satisfied, I start walking out of the room and, just by chance, I see the diamond ring shining in my nightstand.
God, I almost forgot to put the damn thing on.
Coming back to it, I pick it up from nightstand and slide it on my finger. Alright, I think to myself as I look at the tacky diamond on my finger, it’s show time.
10
Austin
This is crazy.
It's not what I fucking do.
I don't put my entire life—every waking minute—into one woman. And yet here I am, sitting in the backseat of a presidential limo, on my way to pick Ashley up, and I haven't stopped thinking about her from the moment I met her.
We’re going to go to dinner in Georgetown but all I want to do is fuck.
Don’t roll your eyes at me. You saw that body of hers.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I want to squeeze those ass cheeks. The only way I want to stop is to run my cock between them. Those tits.
Don’t forget those fucking gorgeous fucking tits. Squeeze them together and run my cock through them.
Yes, yes, I know. I have a desire to rub my cock on everything that looks attractive. Don’t worry, I like steak, I won’t be rubbing my cock on it too. You probably wish though, don’t you? Okay, maybe not the steak, but you wish I’d rub my cock on your face, huh?
Don’
t lie.
Fuck, listen to me. I need to keep a cool head.
I need to focus. This is an opportunity for me to learn more about her. Sure, I'd like to fuck her—that's no secret—but I'm still weary of her. I know what she does for a living—she's crushed some of the most powerful men, and I don't want to be yet another victim.
But, I trust Tracy.
And Tracy says that Ashley is the perfect woman for the job. To say that I'm conflicted is an understatement. I just hope Tracy's right.
The limo pulls up to her apartment.
She's outside, waiting. Punctual. Don’t you think so?
I see her through the window and taker her in with my eyes. She's wearing a short, tight, black cocktail dress that hugs her every fucking curve. It's not too short; it's classy. Her breasts sit at the top of her dress like two perfect scoops of vanilla ice cream, and I think to myself that they look good enough to eat. Like I said, she's a true professional. She looks fucking stunning.
The driver opens the door and ushers her in, and immediately, I'm assaulted by her smell. It's floral, and brings a burst of seductive femininity into the car. If it's possible to be drunk off someone's smell, then this is it.
"It's good to see you," I smile, taking her hand and giving it a quick kiss. Whether I trust Ashley or not, there is no way that I'm not going to bang her.
She retracts her hand. "You can save the charm for some other woman," she says, snapping her seatbelt into place. "I'm not some naïve intern, you know."
"I never thought you were," I smile. "You're a whole lot more than that."
She rolls her eyes, but I see the hint of a smile forming on her lips. "You don't know anything about me, except that I have these exceptional tits, and a tight dress."
"That's not true," I say.
She laughs. "Of course it is. Men are so predictable. They pretend to be different, but really, they're all the same."