The Greatest Liar, Date With The Devil

“Try these baby cakes.”
He squeezed my boobs around his penis and glided between them, I cupped my hands over his hips and pushed and pulled, gazing up at his face, red and sweaty with exertion. I kissed his cockhead when it grazed my lips, and licked a droplet of precum from the tip.
“Mmm, delicious, can I have the rest?”
“Yeah, wait.”
He seized and wanked his cock, I stroked his balls, and he grunted “Oh my god” as he erupted ropes of glistening cum over my breasts and collapsed atop me, his sweat and cum mingling on my skin.
“Better than first class.”
I pushed him off to the side and wiped myself with the bedding.
“Remind the steward to change the sheets.”
“No worries, his boss is a famous germ-a-phobe.”

NDA

JC had meetings with his client’s accountants and bankers, so I had the day to myself. Our suite was too conspicuous a perch to prostitute from, so I contented myself with displaying my T and A poolside, reading the latest issue of Nature. The cabana that came with the room was soon besieged with hot guys, and I turned down enough drinks to qualify as member of AA. The third Pellegrino that I ordered arrived with an envelope.
It contained a non-disclosure agreement, and a voucher for $5,000 of chips at the Bellagio casino. It called for a sexual encounter with an unnamed male in the evening, which I could disclose only to JC to get his consent. I texted JC.
“Someone sent me a legal document.”
“I prepared it.”
“You consent?”
“You’d be doing me a favor, client development.”
I was barely living on the skimpy salary Ronaldo’s team paid me and JC’s allowance. JC was essentially pimping me, which both repelled and thrilled me, so I signed it, put it on the tray and put the voucher in my purse. I wandered through the casino, got my chips, went to craps table, placed one bet and lost, returned to the cashier, cashed out, and stuffed $4,990 into the NDA envelope.
JC sent a car that shuttled me to Caesar’s for dinner in a private room. JC met me at the door and introduced me to the guest of honor, a multi-divorced, multi-bankrupted celebrity real estate tycoon, famous for firing people on TV.
“Now I see what JC’s been bragging about.”
“I’m honored to meet you.”
“JC, you’re overpriced and overrated, but this lady makes up for it.”
JC smiled and waved off the insult.