I don’t believe in déjà vu. In my opinion, déjà vu is simply a thing weak people claim to experience so that they can feel more spiritual.

But I have to admit, I feel something along the lines of déjà vu stepping into Lizzie’s room. I’ve never been in the mansion before in my life, but after watching Lizzie’s cam session last night, I honestly feel like I’ve been in this room before.

It feels familiar, like I’ve masturbated in this room before, and that’s the kind of feeling you can’t just shake.

“So, this is where I do my cam work,” Lizzie starts. “Basically, I’ll sit in front of my computer, fully dressed to start, and wait to see how many fish bite. Next, I’ll—”

“I’m aware of how you do your work,” I interject.

“I take it you watch a lot of cam girls, then?”

“One in particular.”

No reaction. I wouldn’t be surprised if Lizzie is the type of girl who’s amazing at poker. Her straight face just leaves you guessing as to what she’s actually thinking.

But I think she catches the gist of what I just implied. For a split second, I see her eyes widen in surprise.

“Are you Mr. Big?” she asks.

Moments like these are the ones I live for. That feeling of utter power over another human being. She now knows I’ve seen every inch of her bare skin. She knows the kind of wealth I’m willing to throw at a simple cam girl. She knows I’m in control.

“You’re welcome,” I reply.

“Never would have taken you as a Sex and the City fan.”

Classic move. She realized I had the upper hand, and now she’s trying to make me question my masculinity. It’s a tactic that might work on a weaker man. One who wasn’t confident he could fuck any girl in a room with just a whisper.

“You got some real talent there,” I say. “I wouldn’t mind doing more than just watch you undress.”

If you watch people carefully for a bit, you may notice they have certain tics. Things they do without even realizing it. Some people may bite their fingernails without thinking, while others have to incessantly click on a pen.

My tic is hitting on beautiful girls. Even though I know I shouldn’t be flirting with her, it comes as second nature. It’s my fingernail-biting. It’s just something I do even if I know I shouldn’t.

“Well, there’s a lot I’d be willing to let you do to me,” she says.

“I bet. You seem like the kind of girl who would bend over backwards for her man.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of you taking me to Giorgino’s. They have a $100 lobster special. I hear it goes wonderfully with a $250 bottle of Sassicaia imported straight from Italy. Play your cards right, and I may be willing to let you buy it for me.”

Lizzie bends over to adjust the webcam on her computer. I get a glorious view of her tight ass peeking out from her jean shorts.

From my perspective, it seems as though she’s double-checking to make sure the camera isn’t turned on right now. But one’s things certain: she’s turning me on.

I take a step forward, resisting every impulse to whip my cock out and fuck her right on that desk where she’s undressed for so many anonymous men. She must hear my footsteps because she immediately turns around, almost as if she’s keeping herself from getting into a vulnerable position.

As much as it irks me to admit it, I still can’t read her right now. My instinct ordinarily would be to grab her by the tits, pull her in close, and stick my tongue down her throat.

Either she’d be into it and I could get my cock wet in a minute, or she’d push me off. But at least in the latter’s case I’d know. She’s playing it cool, and it’s only making me harder.

“Why stop at a simple Sassicaia?” I ask. “You play your cards right, I could get you a 2009 Chateau Margaux. As soon as the first drop touches your tongue, you’ll climax.”

“Leave it to wine to do what most men are incapable of.”

“Sorry to hear you’ve had unfortunate experiences with other men.” I smirk.

“I wouldn’t call the experiences unfortunate. Watching them try their hardest not to cum within the first 30 seconds is usually pretty entertaining on its own.”

“So 30 seconds is the time to beat, then?”

“The way I work a cock, if you last more than 30 seconds in bed with me, you’re either gay or suffering from erectile dysfunction.”

I find myself looking forward to what she’ll say next. There’s something about a woman with a sexy mind to go with a hot body.

In my experience, it’s so hard finding a good woman when you’re rich and powerful. I know that may sound as though I’m ungrateful for being wealthy beyond most people’s wildest dreams, but it’s tough finding a woman who’s entirely genuine.

A woman who doesn’t play games. A woman who, when she wants to fuck, she makes it abundantly clear. A woman who wants to fuck for the satisfaction itself and not for the prospect of luring a man for his money.

Some women pull off this charade for a while, but then their true selves are revealed.

Lizzie doesn’t seem like the type to play games. I hope I’m right.

I suppose for all I know, Lizzie could be hiding her true intentions. But that’s not what I’m feeling. I feel like this is who she truly is.

She’s not someone who sugarcoats things to spare your feelings. She’ll grab you by the balls and twist as hard as she can. And you know what? I think she’d enjoy every second of that.

And I’m starting to think so would I.

“I always prefer skipping the dinner part of the date. Why waste time with the emotional foreplay when you can get straight to the real thing?”

“Foreplay sets the tone for the rest of the relationship.”

I take one step forward and say, “I’m not looking for a relationship.”

Lizzie doesn’t flinch when I step toward her but she doesn’t step forward, either. It’s clear she’s waiting for me to make my true intentions known. She stares me down with those piercing blue eyes.

I stare right back, but I can’t help but dart my eyes, going back and forth from her pupils to her tits. She smirks. She knows I’m looking.

I organize my thoughts. There’s one hard and fast rule I play by with all my ventures: never mix business with pleasure. In my experience, it clouds my judgement to do what is sometimes necessary to grow and succeed.

It’s why I could never open my own escort business. And why I need to beat out Hawk and win this bid.

However, I suppose I haven’t technically purchased the business yet. What could be the harm in indulging in a little fun right now?

As of this moment, Lizzie and I are simply two people alone in a room together. And I bet her pussy would cradle my cock like a holster to a gun.

“I have a better idea.”

So I grab her by the tits, pull her in close, and stick my tongue down her throat.

She doesn’t miss a beat. She pulls down her shirt, so her tits are now bare for me to grope. And then her hand shoots down into my pants.