"How bad do you want this?" I ask the three women crowded around me. They're on their knees, purring, and pawing, and pulling on my fucking belt buckle.

I sit back in the leather booth, both arms behind my head, and smile.

This is the fucking life, isn't it?

I'm enjoying an evening at Happy Endings exotic nightclub. The place isn't half bad—one of the better Midtown strip clubs.

The brunette with the smoldering eyes—Vicki I think her stage name is?—is sliding my belt from its buckle with one hand and dragging her other hand up my thigh, slowly raking her red nails against the fabric.

The other two women are jostling for a piece of the action too, and who the fuck wouldn't?

Look at me—8-pack abs, a cock bigger than your imagination can handle, the chiseled physique of a Greek god, eyes bluer than a hot bolt of lightning. What else could you possibly want? If you were in this room right now, I guarantee you'd be staring at my cock, touching yourself, and …

Oh, come on; don't give me that look. Don't be shy. You can stare; I don't fucking mind.

It's not everyday that you're gonna see a cock like this one. Don't shake your head. You know it's true, Gorgeous.

And don't you see how these three women are practically begging for a fucking taste of me?

I hear the metallic trill of my zipper as both of the blondes pull it down. My cock is fucking harder than a tree trunk, and they both give a shriek as its full 12 inches pop out of my boxer briefs and slap them in the face.

Vicki pushes her way in, opens her mouth, and eagerly wraps her lips around my cock. She pushes all 12 inches down her throat.

Impressive, I think to myself.

"Someone's hungry," I smile.

She then pulls back, and I hear my cock pop out of her mouth with a single, wet sound. The other two women seize the opportunity and lean in, and they twirl their tongues around my tip. Then one woman grabs my cock, and the way her hand looks so small wrapped around it makes me even fucking harder, if you can believe that. She opens her mouth as wide as she can, and wraps her lips around my now throbbing cock. She presses it down against her tongue, moving slowly, allowing her lips to roll over my entire length, inch by fucking inch until it presses against the back of her throat. I throw my head back with the fucking perfection of it all.

"Fuck, that's it," I groan, resting both of my hands on top of her head. I grab her hair in one fist and move my hips, guiding the motions of my cock in and out of her mouth. Vicki reaches in and tugs on my balls, rolling them between her capable, expert fingers.

"Oh yeah, fuck that's good," I whisper. All three of them look up at me, and smile.

If you can think of anything better than having these three women worshiping my manhood, let me know. Because right now? Nothing fucking beats it.

Sure, I was married once, but all that woman just wanted was to weasel her way into the Governor's office.

That was seven years ago.

Big mistake.

But I've moved on and I'm better for it.

I learned a valuable lesson: always diversify. Translation: Multiple women are better than one.

"I want a taste," the other blonde purrs, leaning in and eyeing me hungrily.

"There's plenty to go around, ladies," I say, a grin growing on my lips.

Sure, as mayor of New York City, I do my fair share of fucking ribbon-cutting ceremonies, I shake hands, and I smile at babies, and I've even made appearances at weddings, but let me just say that I'm known as Parker "Pleasure" Trask for a fucking reason.

You know what I mean?

All three women are moving fast now, each one taking turns on my cock and I decide to change things up. I stand up and bend Vicki over the huge, shiny black table. We're on the top floor of the club, overlooking the stages and poles, and I fucking smile. I love New York City.

This is my city. The city of my fucking wealth.

I look down at Vicki and lift her skirt up, slapping her ass. It's firm and I grab a handful of one ass cheek in my hand. I have enough money to bounce $100 bills off her ass all day long. I can make it fucking rain for hours.

Don't believe me?

I've made an excess of a billion dollars on Wall Street, first working for Carter Jeffries, and then doing some currency trades. I still have a currency trading operation, Trask Phillips—a fucking power broker on Wall Street.

“I want you to fuck me hard," Vicki moans, looking back at me. I grin and grab her hips in one hand, and with the other, I yank her thong down.

Then I lean down and whisper in her ear, "Oh, I'll do it … but be careful what you wish for."

I push a finger inside of her pussy, sliding it in all the way.

"You’re so fucking wet, and I love it," I grin.

With a forceful thrust, I push my cock into Vicki and watch as she grips the table top with both of her hands. She's moaning and the two blondes get down on their knees behind me, dragging their hands up my thighs and grabbing my balls.

Yes, being Mayor of this city is a hell of a lot of fucking fun.

And I'm not just talking about fucking these women.

I've cleaned this city up, after the Anders administration. Unemployment is at 2%.

Crime is at all-time low.

People are making more fucking money than they have in years.

I fucking love seeing this city firing on all cylinders. And that's a direct result of my hard work.

Courts, transportation, EMS, urban planning, IT, public facilities, infrastructure, speaking with lawyers on legal issues, zoning and land use, finances, libraries, and even parking lots—you fucking name it and I've had my hands in it. Impressive list, isn't it?

And email—fuck let's not even talk about that. I spend hundreds of hours answering tens of thousands of fucking emails, communicating with the public, with my staff, with governments, and utilities, and on, and on.

You get the fucking picture.

Are you wondering how one person could possibly handle all of that?

Well, this job isn't for the weak-minded.

It takes a lot of fucking guts and determination.

And the bottom line is, I've changed the way the government interacts with people and their lives. And the city is thriving because of it.

But what now? What's my next big move?

A lot of high political jobs require that I have a fucking wife and kids.

But as I look down at Vicki, and at the other two women, their perfect tits and asses, and eager, open mouths … well, let's just say I'm in no fucking hurry to get married.

Been there, done that.

I'll take the foursome any day.

Vicki let's out a loud moan and I start working her pussy faster. I feel a growing desire coursing through my body and my movements become more erratic.

There's an electric current traveling through every muscle fiber, and the energy of it all is mounting. I feel like I'm about to fucking explode.

I pull my cock out of Vicki and all three women get on their knees. They grab my cock and stroke it for me, all three pairs of delicate hands moving in perfect unison.

Fuck, this is too good to be true.

But here I am.

All three of them looking up at me, mouths open, tongues out eagerly awaiting a taste. Their smiles wild and wide.

"Oh fuck," I groan, and then my cock is a geyser. It's twitching, and with every pulse, thick, hot ropes of cum are hitting all three women. It doesn't stop as they continue to milk me.

Rope after rope of cum.

I close my eyes for a moment and throw my head back.

When I open my eyes back up, I watch as all three of them are now swallowing my cum as if it were the best meal of their fucking lives. A few gooey strands are missed, and drip down their chins.

"Fuck yes," is all I manage to moan, as I continue to empty my load all over their faces, one by one.

Vicki grabs my cock and angles it down her mouth, catching the last two spasms and greedily swallowing my remaining cum.

And then I hear a sound that paralyzes me. It freezes time.

It's the sound of a camera.

A click.

A flash.

I turn my head just in time to see a newspaper photographer snap a picture of all this.

But before I can say, or do anything further, he's a blur.

He's simply gone; he vanishes as quickly and as quietly as he appeared.

Fuck.

This should be a wild ride.

Think you can handle it?

If you think you can hold on, then you’re welcome to flip the page, darlin’.

Just make sure you take off those panties. Spread those legs. Go somewhere private.

That’s right, probably best not to read this in public.

And hold on for the ride.