Playboy Billionaire

Connie?

C… something…

“Just talking to myself,” I said, holding up the beer as I started toward the bathroom door. “Go back to sleep. It’s only Monday.”

I didn’t realize that I was naked until I stumbled into the bathroom and glanced in the mirror. I frowned at my reflection.

My body looked amazing (duh), but from the neck up, I looked like hell. My eyes were red and squinty. My lips were cracked and dry. I leaned into the mirror and tilted my head back. White powder rimmed my nostrils. And down below, my poor cock was hanging like a limp noodle.

“Fuck, man… You gotta sober up…” I said to the man in the mirror. “You look like shit.”

I imagined him saying, “You first, motherfucker.”

I huffed at him and turned to stand at the toilet with my feet spread and my hands against the wall to keep me from falling over. I must have looked like a guy waiting to be frisked.

I aimed for the bowl as best I could. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I exhaled when I heard a strong stream of piss hitting the bowl.

The piss seemed to last for an hour. I had no idea how much I had drank, but obviously, I hadn’t taken a leak in while. When I heard the stream slowing to a trickle, I forced my eyes open and looked down. I sighed. I had just pissed all over the toilet, the floor, and the stack of girlie magazines on the floor.

“Fuuuuck,” I said, my words slurring. My knees began to buckle. I swayed as I shook off my cock and wiped

my pissy hand on the towel hanging over the rack.

“Sleep…” I said, holding my hands out again to steady myself. I made it to the bed and crawled in beside the naked blonde.

Cassidy…

Carlotta…

I wiggled over onto my back. I put an arm over my eyes to shield them from the daylight coming through the broad windows.

I was just starting to drift off when I felt the woman roll into me. She put her head on my chest and her hand on my stomach. I felt her lips on my nipple. Her hand slid down my stomach to my cock, which responded by immediately getting hard.

“You want to fuck or just a blowjob?” she cooed, working her hand up and down the length of my cock.

I sighed without removing the arm from my eyes. “You choose,” I said.

I felt her lips trailing down my stomach. Her mouth replaced her hand on my cock. I heard her hum. I lifted the arm enough to glance down at her.

She was looking back at me, smiling, with my cock wedged in her cheek.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

She slid my cock out of her mouth and licked her lips. She said, “Candy. Don’t you remember?”

“Candy… right…” I sighed and closed my eyes. “Please proceed. Candy.”

Kate

I was certain that Walter hadn’t meant to, but amid all his rambling bullshit, he had given me an ingenious idea.

I wanted to convince Sean Donovan to let me shadow him for a couple of weeks. I knew he wouldn’t let frumpy Kate Asher from Sports Insider Online tag along to his games and after-hour parties, but he might let a buxom blonde journalist from Playboy or Maxim, especially if he was trying to get in said buxom blonde’s panties.

I left Walter’s office and went straight down the hall to chat with Drucilla Darcy, the amazingly-talented graphic artist responsible for the design of the Sports Insider Online website and the layout of the magazine.

Drucilla – Dru to her friends -- was a thirty-something lesbian with buzzed hair and no boobs. She wore no makeup or jewelry, and dressed in men’s jeans and loose flannel shirts. She tells everyone that the only reason Walter hired her was because he thought she --“Drew”-- was a man. And she didn’t bother correcting him until several months after she was hired.

I’ll never forget the look on Walter’s face right after Dru told him that she didn’t have a “cock and balls” (that’s a quote). His mouth fell open and he sort of froze for a moment. His eyes went up and down Dru’s thin frame, then he cleared his throat and said, “Well, of course, you’re a girl… I mean… I knew that… What kind of idiot do you think I am?”