3
Julianna
The sun is the first thing that wakes me. It’s 6:45 am as I look at the clock and I’m usually up by 6.
Christ. I slept in again.
I look over to my right and at the naked man and I realize the reason why I slept in.
Last night was like something out of a porno - except I was both the director and star.
What’s his name again? I’m having trouble remembering.
Bill?
Mike?
No. It’s Barry. Right. Barry Miller or something like that. He's sleeping on his front, in a deep and dreamless slumber.
I think he’s passed out after the workout I gave him. I don't think he’s used to women taking charge like I did.
I look over at him. He’s six feet two inches. He’s muscular. I’ve seen him around the gym a few times too. He works out pretty thoroughly and has a nice body. I mean, 6 pack abs are nice. Leg and back muscles are great. But I’ve seen it all. His cock isn't bad. About 9 inches. It gets the job done.
But overall? It’s just meh. Another bad boy in a long line of bad boys. All looking at themselves in the mirror, trying to look like the perfect alpha male. All trying to be brooding and mysterious. I seriously chew them up and spit them out without a thought nowadays. They think they’re all that before they meet me. They think they’re players. That they can drink and fuck everything in their path.
I don’t mind that. Let people be people. But they think they’re God’s gift to women. That women will just drop everything in their lives to suck their cock.
Yeah, Barry wasn’t bad, but I’ve had better.
I am better.
I mean, you name it, I’ve fucked it. Mafia hit men. Billionaires. Princes. Firefighters. Cowboys. Even some really wealthy guy that claimed to be a dragon.
I wake up the guy. I doubt he’s the one usually getting woken up after sex. He’s probably so used to tiring the girl out that she can’t walk the next day.
Not me.
“Hey Julianna,” he murmurs as he opens his eyes.
But we don’t have time for small talk. I’m usually at my punching bag by this time. I start my day with some yoga. Then I hit the bag. Then I run. And by 7:30 am, I’m showered and in the office.
I’ve followed this same schedule since I was 7. I was determined to succeed back then at life. I kept that determination when I went to college - graduating magna cum laude from Yale, and then getting my MBA at Harvard at the top of my class. Oh, it wasn’t all studying all the time. Trust me. I knew where my priorities were, sure, but I also knew I had urges I needed to fulfill. And trust me when I tell you I wasn’t going to let a bunch of old men who made rules dictate what I could or couldn’t do with my body. Fuck them. I dressed how I wanted to, ate how I wanted to, fucked who I wanted to. So you’d see me at a fraternity party with the guys checking me out. But I was deciding myself which one I wanted. Regardless of who came up to me, I always placed my desires first.
That’s why when the in
vestment bank Carter Jeffries offered me an Analyst role, I jumped at the chance. Five years later I was the youngest Managing Director in the history of the Firm. Five years after that I was their CEO. But I wasn’t content to just stay at CEO. I started a holding company and began buying distressed real estate right after I got out of Business School. It began doing really well and by the time I was made CEO of Carter Jeffries, I was able to sell it for a nice amount.
What’s a nice amount to me? Try $5 billion.
After climbing the top of Wall Street, there was one thing I needed to do in life. So the next year, I quit and bought the New York Nailers football team.
I paid the entire $1.8 billion out of my own pocket.
That’s right. I paid for a football team like some men go buy cars.
How many bad boys you know that do that?
To be fair, it was hard work. I bought the team last year. And over the course of one year, I turned it around from a bankrupt organization bleeding money to something that I was hoping could be Super Bowl worthy this year.