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He’d always lived inside me.
That realization alone sent me spiraling down a bottle of bourbon. Before I knew it, I was sitting on a black leather couch in the dark corner of one of my strip clubs. Here, naked girls danced, but they decided whether they wanted to fuck you. I wasn’t a pimp by any means. I had nothing to do with it.
It was their choice, not mine.
I was out of sight.
I didn’t bother removing my sunglasses. I was exhausted. I’d come to drown out the demons living on my back through whiskey and whores.
Always the best combination when I needed to unwind.
Fuck out my frustrations, burying my cock in whoever wanted a piece of me that night. I took another swig off the bottle, watching as the entire world shut off around me. Even if it was just for an instant, it was a moment I reveled in. Only seeing strobes of colored lights and women dancing.
“From the looks of it, boss, you’re going to need me tonight,” the luscious blonde enticed with her pouty, dick-sucking red lips. Wearing nothing but a tiny G-string and a bra that barely covered any of her tits, she kneeled before me.
I gripped the back of her neck, growling, “I just need your lips wrapped around my cock.”
She laughed, swinging her long blond hair over her shoulder. This was foreplay for her.
“I see you’re here to break more hearts. What’s it been, two, three months since we’ve seen you? You know the girls get jealous when you don’t pay attention to them.” She took it upon herself to straddle my lap. Grinding her pussy on my cock to the beat of the house music, she baited, “We miss you.”
I fucked.
I didn’t know any other way.
There was no kissing.
No sleepovers.
No intimacy.
The rougher, the better.
They were ordered to keep their mouths shut, not saying so much as a word without my permission. Whatever you want to call it, it was my kink. It wasn’t always about me, though. I’d always make them come, which was probably another reason they wanted me so bad. Not many men cared about a woman’s needs. Their minds were set on the fact that they were whores for a reason.
Especially men like me.
“I want you,” she breathed out, leaning in to kiss me.
I gripped her hair at the nape of her neck and tugged her head back hard, making her whimper like a bitch in heat. Getting pussy had never been an issue. Women literally threw themselves on my cock, knowing who I was and what that meant. That was how easy it was for them to get on their hands and knees for me.
This chick was no different.
I let go of her hair and slowly moved my hands from her neck to her ample tits, down to her narrow waist. She licked her lips, sucking in another breath when I suddenly grasped her hips. I placed her on the table in front of me to get a good look at her.
I stood, spreading her legs to stand between them. Getting close to her face, I asked, “What makes ya think I care about what you want?” I meant every last word.
She inhaled, holding her breath as my hand continued its descent, running along her smooth, heated skin to her cunt.
“Please…” she begged, looking into my eyes with nothing but need.
The tips of my callused fingers awakened every last fiber of her being. Slowly and deliberately, I took my time, knowing damn well I was ruining her for any other man.
“I'm desperate for you,” she purred, with nothing but hooded eyes.
I gave her a snide smile, cocking my head to the side. Taking a second to look into her pleading gray eyes before leaning into her ear, I ordered, “Show me how desperate you are.”
Her eyes instantly dilated as she slowly knelt in front of me, never taking her heady gaze off mine.I immediately reached for my belt buckle, undid my pants, and pulled out my dick in one swift movement.
