“Oh, fuck, baby, you like that?” I ask, and I can feel Carl’s nuts tighten. He has no fucking stamina at all.
In another three thrusts he groans and throws his head back and I can feel his cock spasm inside of me, as the condom gets warm.
I milk him with my pussy for another half a minute. Let him get some pleasure out of it. When I deliver this recording to his wife, it’s going to be all she needs to get out of the loveless marriage that she’s trapped in. She’s going to sue him for everything he has. He’ll probably go from Mr. Senior Managing Director in a Park Avenue condo to living in Bed-Stuy in a basement apartment. Most likely not so much sex happening then.
Oh well. He’s a guy. I don’t really have that many fucks to give.
***
“Make sure that Mrs. Ketchum is made aware where to transfer the money to, Walter,” I tell my trusty sidekick over the phone as I leave the offices of Carter Jeffries. Once the sex was complete, it’s all I could do to get the fuck out of Carl’s office as soon as possible. Walter had what he needed, and I needed to get paid.
“We have a new commission too, if you’re interested,” Walter tells me in his off-English accent. He’s been with me since I left Los Angeles. He’s loyal and I trust him with my life. Think Alfred from Batman. He’s my Alfred.
“Fine, let’s vet them like normal,” I reply, wondering why Walter would bring up a commission without vetting them. He’s usually thorough.
“I tried, but the man was insistent,” Walter says over the phone. “Said he was going to talk to you now. He told me he’d pick you up outside the Carter Jeffries building.”
What the fuck?
How does someone know where I am?
A guy? It couldn't be….no.
I’ll tell you about him later, hun, but I don’t think he would call Walter.
That’s when another limo pulls up. It squeals to a stop on 52nd Street, right next to where I’m standing on the sidewalk.
I’m a bit startled. A bit wary.
Is this the same guy who called Walter?
The door to the limo opens and I can’t see inside.
“Get in,” the voice says to me. That’s it. Just that command. “It’ll be worth your while.”
I sigh. But I’m not worried.
Men. If I can handle one, I can handle them all.
I get in and close the door as the limo speeds away.
Let’s see what kind of fun we get into today, shall we dear?
132
Ethan
“Watch out for the sludge,” Cheryl warns me as we walk past the pedestrian portion of Broadway toward our Times Square setup.
I look down. There’s a green and vile looking stream of ooze running from the sewer grate down the street. Jesus fucking Christ. You’d think the Mayor would actually clean up the city a bit and prevent the sewers from overflowing. But he’s off who the fuck knows where trying to move jobs to China or something. At least that's what the papers are saying.
“Ethan!” Cheryl calls and I snap out of whatever daydream I was in the middle of. I look up at her. She’s at the podium a few paces down.
We’re standing at the corner of 44th and Broadway, and a crowd has already formed.
I look around me. New Yorkers call Times Square the Crossroads of the World. I call it The Last Place I Want To Visit.
I mean, sure you got the fucking theaters. Whatever. Off-Broadway is becoming the avant-garde nowadays. What else do you want? I’ll give you a million fucking other places in New York City you can get it.