I throw the photos from last night across the desk at Phil Markham: my client, and an all-around chump. He’s got a beer-gut, receding hairline, and a nervous laugh that’s already driving me out of my fucking mind.
No wonder his wife got wet the minute she laid eyes on me. This guy couldn’t find his way to her clit with a fucking GPS.
“There you go.” I nod at the pictures of his wife with her legs spread, licking my cum off her own tit. It’s not artistic, sure, but it gets the message across.
His mouth drops open in shock. “Is this...” he stutters. “Did you..?”
“Fuck her, like you wanted.” I yawn. Half my clients are happy just to have the job done, but then you get guys like Phil, who wanted her to cheat -- right up until the moment she does it.
He flips through the photos, his eyes widening. “She never goes down on me.”
“Consider it a lucky break.” I remember her slobbering. “She can’t suck for shit.”
He bristles. “That’s my wife you’re talking about.”
“Your soon-to-be ex-wife,” I correct him, “who’s about to be screwed in the divorce, thanks to those. Aren’t you the one who wanted to cut her loose with nothing?”
“Well, yes, but...” Phil squints at the final photo like he wants to argue some more, but I’m already done.
“My final invoice is in the file. Don’t let the door hit you on your way out.”
Phil blusters some more about my prices, but he clears out pretty quick once I remind him about the money he’s saving on that invalid prenup. When the door closes, I sigh in relief.
Finally. Some motherfucking peace.
I grab a handful of Advil and wash them down with a swig of Jack from my bottom drawer. After I left last night’s job, I wound up at a club downtown with a couple of exotic dancers and a bottle of tequila. Now, those girls could show Mrs. Markham a thing or two about giving head. They’d been around the block for sure, but damn, if they hadn’t picked up a trick or two.
I remember Desiree licking her way across Lola’s breasts and feel myself get hard again. That’s when the door flies open and my newest client comes striding in.
“I thought I paid you to get the job done!” he growls, dark eyes flashing. “So why the fuck are you sitting around here instead of screwing that bitch?”
I slowly get to my feet. He’s a smug bastard: flashy pinstripe suit and a king-sized Rolex. Cloak and dagger shit too: no full name, no contact address, just a cell number for a burner phone. If it wasn’t for the huge check he came waving around, I wouldn’t have touched his business. I’m already regretting the choice.
“You don’t barge the fuck into my office. Make a damn appointment. Maggie!” I yell to my assistant in the next room.
She pokes her head around the door. “He wouldn’t listen.” She shrugs, then disappears.
“I’m paying an arm and a leg for your ‘services.’” He makes air-quotes, like the asshole he is. “So tell me when I’ll see some results.”
I don’t answer. I just fix him with an icy stare, this close to punching his fucking brains out. I’ve got fifty pounds of pure muscle on him, and I’d bet my last dollar that pretty-boy rich kid here hasn’t swung a punch in his life.
He realizes that he’s just waded knee deep in shit creek here. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” He backs down, his face red. “It’s just a stressful time for us. There’s a lot on the line. I need her dealt with. And photos too.”
“You’ll get your dirty pictures.” I smirk.
“I don’t need to see them,” he says, dismissively.
Huh. Well, I get all kinds in here, not just the spouses in need of a pre-nup get-out clause. Desperate fathers needing to lure their princess away from gold-digging scum; daughters out to get rid of their wicked step-mother; women wanting to give their girlfriends the fuck they deserve. I will seduce anyone -- for a price.
“I made contact with the girl today,” I tell him. “She won’t be a problem.”
“You’re pretty sure of yourself,” he sneers, heading for the door. “What makes you think she’ll give it up for you?”
“All women are the same,” I tell him. “This one is no exception.”
Even the hottest woman is still a job for me. I meet them; they fall to their knees; I snap the pictures. No feelings, no complications. I kicked those kinds of feelings to the curb years ago. I had to.
He leaves, and I pull out the surveillance photos I snapped of the girl on her way into work this morning: hair pulled back in that good-girl bun, neat blouse and pencil skirt, all business.
Keely Fawes.
After the desperate housewives I’ve been fucking lately, this one is a refreshing change. Pretty, stacked, with lush hips and a great ass -- even if she does try and hide it in those prim librarian outfits.
Yeah, this one will be fun. She has a mouth on her, too. None of that playing dumb, bimbo shit. Hell, I could practically feel her soaking through her panties when I stopped her from taking that tumble. Glazed eyes, flushed cheeks -- that girl had desire written all over her face just looking at me. If she’s not a virgin, then she’s damn close. Probably gave it up to her college boyfriend, the kind of pussy who looked deep in her eyes, told her he loved her, and came in five seconds flat.
She’s probably never had a real man in her life; never felt a dick slide so deep she sees God.
“That your latest victim?” Maggie comes in, wearing cut-offs and a tank top. I’ve told her to look smart for the clients, but she just tells me to go fuck myself.
“I’ll be doing her a favor.” I get out of my chair and check the time. “That’s my cue. Get the invoice ready for the client; you can send it along in an hour.”
“Sixty minutes? You’re pretty confident.” Maggie smirks. “Maybe she doesn’t go your way.”
“Everybody goes my way.” I look back down at the top picture of Keely. She’s frowning at her computer, a pen tucked behind her ear. She looks on-edge, with no hint of her humor from this afternoon.
“Not everybody,” Maggie snaps.
I raise an eyebrow. “Remember Stacy?”
Maggie makes a face. The only reason she’s lasted as my assistant is that she loves pussy nearly as much as me. She even shared a couple of girls -- until she realized that once they get a taste of my dick, her toys won’t ever compare.
We might give each other a hard time, but we keep each other honest.
“One of these days, a girl’s going to turn you down,” she says. “And I’ll be right here, laughing my head off.”
“Keep dreaming.” I slap her on the ass as I head out the door. “Never gonna happen!”