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I go back to the tweets. The Presidential Palace is surrounded. Civilians are beginning to run out onto the streets, cheering on the soldiers. Mr. Peak barks into his phone, “Have the cars ready when we land in Teterboro. I am going straight to the office. Make sure everyone is there by 8 a.m.”
On TV, raw camera phone footage shows the Presidential Palace under siege. The Odostan military is shooting at President Molidak’s soldiers on the roof of the building. More explosions. More craziness.
“We should be on the ground in about an hour,” Mr. Peak says as he checks his watch. The new anchor comes on screen and begins to read a statement from the State Department, “The United State Government fully supports the fight for freedom from the brutal dictatorship of Presidential Molidak.”
Mr. Peak looks at the TV and smiles as he proclaims, “Good. We have Washington on our side rather quickly. Now all we need to do is have General Zhukov end this right.”
“What could go wrong, Sir?” I ask.
“President Molidak could escape and carry on an insurgency that could tear the country apart in civil war.”
I go back to the Twitter feed. Tanks and Odostan civilians have surrounded the palace. People are chanting “Death to Molidak.” This is the first time that the people of that country have been free to openly condemn their dictator.
“Is General Zhukov in Kuva?! Come on. Come on. I want answers not speculation!” Mr. Peak yells as he punches the back of one of the chairs. I get up and stand behind my boss. I reach up onto my tippy-toes and try to calm him down with a back massage.
“What are you doing?” my boss barks.
“I’m trying to relax you, Sir.”
“That is not going to relax me.”
“Then how can I make you feel more at ease, Mr. Peak?”
My boss grabs me and pushes my body up against the cabin of the Gulfstream. He runs his hands up my sides and gently fondles my bre**asts. My billionaire boss takes my right hand and places it over the thick bulge in his pants. We make out as the chaos from the Odostan civil war blasts out of the TV and echos through the cabin of the Gulfstream.
Mr. Peak slowly chokes me as he places his other hand on my as**s. I ratchet up the action by zipping down his pants. He chokes me harder as I start to play with his co**ck. “You are a dirty little girl,” Mr. Peak says.
We fall to the ground and get it on. Time stands still as we kiss and lick each other’s bodies. Mr. Peak places me on my stomach and slowly chokes me from behind. We f**k on the floor for who knows how long. By the time we are finished, I feel like I am about to pass out.
“We will be landing in Teterboro in twenty minutes, Mr. Peak,” the Gulfstream pilot announces over the intercom system. My boss gets off of me and puts his clothes back on. I am content to lie on the floor for a few more minutes.
As I feel the plane beginning its descent, I decide that maybe now is a good time to get my clothes back on. I take my seat and watch the continuing coverage of the military coup on Odostan.
My boss looks out of the window. I do the same. I see the Empire State Building, Freedom Tower and the Statue of Liberty. These powerful New York structures remind me of Mr. Peak. They are big, brash and defiant.
The Gulfstream glides down onto the runway. The plane taxis to the tarmac and comes to a complete stop in under a minute. I don’t think I could ever get used to such promt and efficient plane service. I will never fly commercial again!
The doors open and I follow Mr. Peak off of the plane. A fleet of Maybach sedans are waiting for us. Mr. Peak wastes no time getting to the cars. I follow him and get inside the back of the $400,000 sedan.
A minute later we are off to Manhattan. Mr. Peak turns on his iPad and checks the stock market prices. “Oil is exploding!” Mr. Peak booms as the fleet of cars leaves the airport. My boss is so excited that he shows me the price of the commodity.
Indeed, the price of oil is up 7% in pre-market trading. It sounds like the revolt in Odostan is creating some instability in the Eurasian region. That means higher oil and gold prices. My boss gets on the phone and orders his traders to dump half the firm’s position in oil.
The cars race into Manhattan. I am so curious to see my boss’s offices in the Big Apple. I am also curious to know what hotel we will be staying at tonight. Since my boss seems to be in a good mood, I decide to chat him up.
“Mr. Peak. Where do you like to stay when you are in Manhattan?” I ask meekly.
“My townhouse, of course,” he says.
Oh boy! He owns a place in Manhattan! Well, of course he does. He’s a billionaire. What am I thinking. I bet the place is really f**king posh. I can’t wait to see it!
