To top it all off, I can’t get the woman from earlier out of my head. After this morning, my sexual frustrations are at an all-time high. I need a good fuck. I scroll absent mindedly through my contacts, contemplating my options. But after a few minutes I set the phone back on the desk in frustration. There are plenty of women I could call, but none of them sound appealing. I’ve grown bored with all the high society princess types, and even worse are the up and coming gold diggers. Yes, they are all eager to please, but it always comes at a cost.
I take a sip of coffee, staring out the window at the busy streets below. My mind wanders back to her, the woman who practically crash landed at my feet. The woman who royally fucked any chance I had of salvaging my meeting. But for some reason, it doesn’t bother me.
There was something about her that sent all of the blood straight to my cock. Maybe it was that sweet voice of hers swearing at me. Yes, that had definitely done it alright. Or perhaps it was the fact that I couldn’t quite picture her reaction to me taking her roughly. Would she like it? I have no fucking clue… and more importantly, why do I give a shit?
But that damned red lipstick. When I saw those plush red lips for the first time, I had an overwhelming urge to fuck that mouth of hers. To punish her harsh words with my cock. Yes, I think I would like that very much. I just have to wonder what this woman’s price would be. Because everyone has a price. It’s something I’ve learned the hard way.
I’m known for my scandalous affairs, the gossip columns always painting me as a cold hearted bastard. But it never stops the women from falling all over themselves trying to get my attention. When women look at me, they either see one of two things, a cushy life as a trophy wife or a publicity boost for their career.
I realized a long time ago that a determined woman will do just about anything to get what she wants. I may have been naive for a little while, but that phase didn’t last long. I was thinking with my heart then, and not my dick. But now, my dick always gets what it wants. And if a woman isn’t willing to provide that, then she is of no use to me. Pure and simple. I always have the upper hand and I’m always in control.
The women I date may not like it, but they sure as hell never say otherwise. They let me whip them and spank them and fuck them brutally all while moaning my name like I’m a God. It’s all fake of course… their eagerness to submit to me. But the amount of fucks I give are exactly zero. I get off on seeing them kneel before me, doing whatever I ask. It’s the one place in my life I have control, and I won’t be relinquishing that any time soon.
It’s not that I hate women because I don’t. There’s nothing better than the feeling of a beautiful woman in your hands and in your bed. I just despise the fact that over the years I’ve come to find out they are all the same. I find their groveling attempts to please me annoying, even though it’s exactly what I want. Call me fucked up if you will, but that’s me in a nutshell.
Years of being fed to the vultures made me this way. And I can’t help it if I enjoy the monster I’ve become. In fact, I don’t just enjoy it. I revel in it. I want to be the monster that terrifies them. The sex is better when they hate me because there’s no hiding that in the moment. And once I’ve established that parameter-made them bare their souls to me under the weight of my cock inside them-then I can be done with their bullshit.
Because I tolerate bullshit from no one these days. And that’s why I was so surprised this morning by little miss attitude. She knew who I was and genuinely didn’t seem to give a fuck. She spoke to me with disdain. It usually took at least a brutal hour of fucking before it ever got to that stage. And I have to admit, she has my attention.
Although I despise my weakness for what I’m about to do, I can’t stop myself. I reach for the desk phone and hit the intercom. “Margie can you put me through to Allan Ricketts, I need a background check.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Maddox.”
A moment later the phone rings through.
“Allan Rickets speaking, what can I do for you?”
The voice on the other end of the line sounds especially annoying right now. I hate using this detective, but he’s the best, so I keep my personal opinions out of it.
“Allan, it’s Gabriel Maddox. I need you to run a background check for me, but this one might take a little more work than usual.”
I often use Allan’s services to dig up dirt on someone when I need it, namely women who are trying to blackmail me in some way. I don’t like doing it, but it’s the dirty business of the world I live in. And Allan being the sleazy man that he is, does not disappoint.
“Okay,” Allan replies curiously. “Lay it on me. What do we have?”
“I ran into a woman on the street this morning. I don’t know her name. But she works for the On The Run Courier Company. Her physical description reads as short, approximately 5’3”, brown hair, Caucasian. She was wearing ripped jean shorts and a red jacket. I need you to track down all of her info for me, anything you can get, and send it to me ASAP.”