Chapter 1

Owen

“Harder, baby, fuck yeah.”

I grip Lola’s head as her long, blonde hair bobs up and down on my raging hard cock.

She slurps and chokes a little, but I don’t fucking give a shit as long as the ending result is how I like it, with me coming all over her fucking face and down her throat.

I love to squirt my cum on beautiful women at the Expose.

Oh, yeah, hey, you’re probably wondering who the fuck I am and what the hell’s the Expose? Allow me to explain myself.

I’m Owen Wolfe, and on the off chance you haven’t heard of me, I’m proud to say I’m a gold card member here at the Expose.

Right, now you want to know what the Expose is, don’t you? Well aren’t you a demanding little fucker, then?

Fine, I’ll appease you…for now. You should know, though, that my patience wears extremely fucking thin most of the time, and I’m used to getting what I fucking want.

The Expose is the hottest, yet most discreet private strip and sex club in all of Manhattan. The best part? Well, it’s only three blocks from my penthouse, so if I have the urge to spray my cum on some dancer’s face, all I have to do is walk down the street and in seconds some desperate and yet high-class stripper will have her hands all over me.

Lola’s one of the strippers here at the Expose, but she’s not my favorite. In fact, I really could care less about her, but she’s hot and can suck cock fairly well, so I’ll take her.

We’re currently in one of the bathroom stalls at the club. You might be grossed out, thinking that it sounds pretty nasty to get a blowjob in a dirty club bathroom, but when I say I fork out a decent wad of cash to be a member of the elite third floor VIP section, you better fucking believe it’s clean as shit in here.

I mean, Lola can fucking lick the floor if she wants to, but for now I prefer her to keep licking my huge, hard cock.

My cock is tough to swallow, but only in the best way. I’m twelve thick inches of throbbing, pulsing man flesh, and I don’t fucking care who knows it. In fact, I’m damn well proud of how long I am, and I’m happy to bury my cock into any pussy worth digging.

I’m also tall, standing at six foot four inches with a strong, chiseled jawline that makes every girl cream her panties.

I’m the dark and brooding type, too, but I have a charismatic charm that lures all manner of sexy women into my arms.

I never miss a day at the gym, so if you’re ready to touch a sculpted eight-pack, I’ve got them right here waiting for you under my shirt. There’s none that can compare to me and I’m not bragging, it’s just the way it is.

Let’s just say I’m handsome, the full package, just like a fucking movie star—or a porn star if you’re more into that.

You fucking love that, don’t you? I bet you’re fucking soaking wet now just thinking about my rock-hard body and me.

Well, right now, I’m naked from the waist down as my pants sit in a heap around my ankles. Lola is fucking working her magic on me and has the best tongue action of any girl in the club—but even though she’s hot, she’s not the hottest by far.

I mean, she’s okay and all, but I’m just not that into blonde chicks at the moment. I’d rather have a brunette or jet-black haired girl who knows how to hold her own—a true fucking New Yorker just like me.

But Lola can give award-winning blowjobs, and I’m happy to be receiving one from her right now. I pull her up slightly. She’s naked except for a pink lacy thong currently going right up her ass crack like fucking dental floss.

I push her thong down because I want a good look at both of her sexy holes.

“I’m getting ready to come,” I growl at her, but I want to fuck her first.

You probably think what kind of asshole fucks a stripper in a sex club bathroom, but I really don’t give a fuck about what you or anyone else thinks about me. I’m a goddamn multi-billionaire and I can do whatever the fuck I want.

I pull out of Lola’s mouth and she wipes my pre-cum from her lips, gazing up at me with a mischievous smirk.

“Get on your hands and knees,” I order her.

She does as she’s told because she has no fucking choice—I’m in charge here. Lola gets on all fours, and I lean down and fuck her pussy doggy-style. I grip her hips as I plow in and out, thrusting harder and faster to conquer my addiction, which is in the form of an orgasm.

Am I a sex addict? Who fucking cares? What fucking business is it of yours?

Right when I feel the exploding sensation of my climax begin to hit me, I pull out again and finish off with my hand. I’m not allowed to come inside of any of the strippers. If they tell on me, I’m as good as kicked out of the best club in the city.

I grab Lola to whip her back around. I want to come on her busty chest. I aim and take fire, shooting my hot load all over her huge tits, mostly hitting my mark.

It turns out that my target is a little off balance, though, because some of my cum sloshes and shoots directly onto a guy’s shoe in the stall beside us.

It’s a total accident, but the dude groans with frustration and annoyance.

“What the fuck?” he yells, and I hear him open up his stall door.

The next sound I hear is his intrusive banging on the door to the stall where I’m currently defiling Lola.

“Someone’s in here,” I say casually, and smirk at Lola like this is some fucking game I love.

The guy knows damn well I’m in here.

Lola responds by rolling her eyes and quickly dressing herself back in her work uniform, which just so happens to be a sexy as fuck romper-type black dress.

“Open up, asshole!” the guy yells as he continues to bang on the door.

I want to say the same fucking thing to him. Open wide, fucker, I’ve got more where that came from.

I jump into my pants and begin to button my shirt, taking my sweet-ass time. After a moment or two, I burst open the door, beaming proudly.

“I’m sorry, sir, can I help you with something? You seem very upset,” I respond with cheerful condescension.

“Yeah, you fucking got cum on my shoe. This is fucking disgusting!” The guy points to his foot.

I place a hand on my hip and point to the shoe. “You know, I hear that works fantastically well as shoe polish,” I offer as a suggestion.

“Fuck you!” he roars.

The man is tall and slender—gangly, actually—and reminds me of that fucking cartoon character Gumby, although he’s not quite as green. He has a full head of light brown hair and he’s wearing an ugly-ass beige suit with an even ghastlier yellow tie.

Meanwhile, I zip my pants back up, really fucking slowly, as though it’s an afterthought or some shit, but I want to make this fucker even more uncomfortable than he already is.

Lola scurries between us, embarrassed and escaping in a huff.

“Hey, buddy, I can’t help what happened to your shoe. I’ll aim better next time.” I wink at him and try to move past.

“How dare you speak to me like this!” the guy yells, but I can tell he’s all bark with no fucking bite.

“Excuse me?” I spin around, now I’m growing angry. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Don’t you know who I am?” the guy shouts, a vein in his forehead bulging.

I actually have no fucking clue who this douchebag is, and I frankly don’t care either.

“No, do you not know who I am?” I raise the stakes and yell back at him.

In reality, I’m a pretty fucking big deal as the owner and CEO of Lone Wolfe Pictures, one of the biggest production companies in all of Hollywood, even though I spend at least half my time in New York.

This guy should know that, right? Well, I sure as fuck think so.

The guy apparently doesn’t want to wait for me to give him an explanation because I see his fist coming at me in the next instant—only my reflexes and training in boxing give me the upper hand, like literally.

I block his punch and land a clean blow on his face, knocking the motherfucker backwards on his ass.