Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
The floors are European oak, and the staircase is one of a kind. I was dating an artist at the time, and she branched out of her normal medium to create it. One of the few exes whom I’m still friends with. The house is three stories, but the last two levels are shaped like an L with an infinity pool on my roof.
Rubbing my chest, I walk into my kitchen, and go straight to the refrigerator that is fully stocked. I need to send Betty a gift basket, she takes care of my place when I’m gone. She’s really the only one, beside Dave, whom I have on my payroll. Dave monitors security for the property, but Betty takes care of literally everything else.
I grab the bottle of vodka out of my freezer, noticing my phone on the counter. It’s probably dead since it was at low battery at the pub.
“Hey?” I turn, and a dark-haired woman is standing in my kitchen wearing my shirt from last night, her hair and makeup perfect.
“Hey” I grin, holding up a glass. “Want one?”
“Sure, I feel like I missed all the fun.” She sashays in and rests her elbows on my island as my eyes trail up her long legs to her ass.
“Well, you do have my shirt on.” I smile as my mind floats back to last night…this particular girl I have no recollection of.
“Got here right when you guys were passing out.” She pouts, her ballooned lips need to go down a syringe or two. “I work with Chloe.” She bats her eyes at me. “We both dance at the Pussycat.”
I nod, pouring a large amount of Tito vodka in a couple glasses. “Do me a favor? Put my cell on the charger.” I motion to my phone next to her.
“Sure.” She straightens, shoving her fake tits out, her nipples are like pointy arrows trying to rip through my tee, and my cock wakes up.
“Anything else you require?” Her eyes dip to my erection.
“Oh my God, girl, finally.” The one I thought was Lori screams as she enters, slapping the other’s ass as they both squeal at shock volume, and my cock enthusiasm wanes slightly.
“Ammo, this is Lisa, the one I was telling you about last night.” She hops up on my island and wraps her feet around Lisa’s waist as they start giggling again.
“Ohh, Bloody Marys, yum.” She reaches for one of the two that I was making.
“Can one of you order a breakfast burrito, and whatever you girls want, from Breakfast Republic?”
“You got it.” The new girl tries to pull free. “Lisa, let go.” She laughs, as I try to remember just how many holes my dick was in last night.
Too many women, Ammo, you’ve fucked too many! Nah, there’s no such thing. Though at some point, pussies, breasts, mouths, asses…they’re simply all starting to blend.
It’s odd when I look back at things. I mean, I just assumed that I would do what my parents did…find someone, fall in love and spend my life with them. But with fame comes sacrifices, and long-term relationships seem to not be my strong suit. In fact, the older I get, the more set in my ways I find myself becoming. I’ll die a bachelor, and have no regrets. Wouldn’t change a thing.
“Ammo? You want hot sauce on the burrito?” Lisa’s voice brings me back to the now as she looks over at the girls from my bed who have joined us and are now walking past us smiling, and very naked, as they make their way to my pool.
I bring my drink to my lips. Screw it, I can get everything I needed to get done today, finished tomorrow.
“Yeah, tell them it’s for me, they’ll deliver.” Taking a long sip of the mostly vodka Bloody, not one of my best attempts, but my head is feeling better.
“Done. It should be here in thirty minutes.” Lisa sets her phone down and smiles up at me. “So, what else do you need? Mr. Adams.” She walks toward me slowly as I take another swig.
“I think it’s my turn to worship the Ace of Spades.” She licks her fat lips, her hands pulling my sweats down. “Oh, fuck yes,” she hisses out as she lowers herself to her knees and I set my drink down. “Do I get all this to myself?” Her breath on the tip makes me grin.
“My spade is all yours.” Watching as her tongue goes back and forth just on the tip as she looks up at me.
Yeah, the way a woman’s eyes change as soon as they see my dick may be the reason why I’ll never be in a truly meaningful relationship.
I get off on women adoring me.
It’s addictive. Not my fault I was born with a large cock, impressive talent, and the need to reign. It wouldn’t be fair not to share myself with the world.