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Anyway, I’m not ashamed to say that I had some solo fun thinking of Parker once puberty hit. Too bad that, once in college, I never found anyone that managed to fill Parker’s shoes.
That only happened after college.
I was still working as a model when I got a very lucrative offer to star in a movie—a porn movie. I said no at first, but when I saw the man I’d be, ahem, co-starring with, I started having second thoughts. And for a very simple reason—he looked a lot like Parker. Sure, the voice was off, and he didn’t tower over me like my stepfather did, nor his body was as perfect as I needed it to be… But there were a few resemblances, and I found myself signing a contract just so that I could get the chance to live out a fantasy of mine.
I don’t even remember that man’s name. All I know is that he looked like Parker and, once our clothes were off, he became Parker. I closed my eyes once he slid his cock inside of me, and I moaned and screamed Parker’s name until my throat grew raw. I forgot all about the cameras, the director and the crew; in that moment, I was just living out a dream.
Once that was over, I started having second thoughts. Did I really want to star in a porno? Did I really want to go down that road? Push came to shove, and I decided to bail out of my contract. I returned all the money I was paid, and the producers were kind enough to bury the footage. I chucked out that moment in my life to a lapse of judgment and promptly forgot about it. I had the only copy in existence, and so my little secret would never see the light of day.
Except, of course, I made a slight miscalculation. You see, I always knew my mother was a ruthless person, but I never thought she’d be shrewd enough to go looking through my stuff, trying to find some dirt on me.
Once she found the tape, it was downhill from there.
Anytime she wants me to do anything, she resorts to her threats right away. And it isn’t like there’s anything I can do. If that tape sees the light of day, Kinky Amy’s is going to be swept away by the resulting scandal, and I can kiss goodbye all the sweet investment I managed to secure with my hard work.
“I’ve done enough for you,” I say, gritting my teeth and making an effort not to slap my mother. It’s kinda sad if you think about it. She’s my mom, and all I really want to do right now is smack her across the face.
Ever since she got her hands on that tape, she has used me like some disposable tool. I’m not proud to say it, but she has forced me to seduce some of her political rivals in the past so that she could force them to align with her, or get out of the way. Yeah, I’m her femme fatale of service.
But I can’t do that to Parker. He’s my stepfather, for God’s sake!
“In case you haven’t noticed, Amy, this isn’t up for debate. You will do this. But don’t think I’m an evil bitch,” she whispers with a smile, and I do exactly the opposite. She couldn’t be any more of an evil bitch. “Do this for me, and I’ll let you have the tape once you’re done. Just do your mom one last favor.”
“One last job,” I co
rrect her, pursing my lips.
“Whatever you want to call it, Amy,” she chuckles, throwing her purse over her shoulder and straightening the front of her haute couture dress. “Just make sure you do it,” she finishes off, and then walks out of my office.
I sit there in silence, my hands balled into fists. Once again, my mother has pulled me into her political schemes. And, once again, I have no choice but to do her bidding.
One last job then.
6
Parker
It's been four days since I announced my bid for the U.S. Senate and my phone's been ringing non-stop. My inbox is so full, I could spend the next ten years answering every fucking message, and I still probably wouldn't get through it all.
And you know what? I couldn't be happier.
Needless to say, people are pretty fucking excited about my announcement.
And this evening, I'm celebrating at Cipriani's where the liquor choices are large, and the jumbo shrimp cocktails are even larger.
I walk over to the bar and motion to the bartender for a drink.
"What can I get for you sir?" And before I can even answer, a smile of recognition spreads across his face. "Wait a minute, you're the guy I saw on TV the other day—the 'Just Ask Trask' guy. You're Parker Trask, aren't you?"
"That's me," I say, reaching over to shake his hand. "It's nice to meet you."
"The pleasure's mine—now about that drink," he smiles. "What can I get for you?"
"I'll take an Old Fashioned," I reply.
"Sure thing—but I've gotta say, you're anything but Old Fashioned. The way you've whipped this city into shape, and brought it all together, is nothing short of a miracle. I've never seen that from any other mayor, and I've been in this city my whole life."
"I appreciate that," I reply. I think about segueing his accolades into my new bid for Senator, but then I decide that'll come across as shameless self-promotion, so I hold back and simply keep it at a thank you and nod my head.
