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"Calm down?" he asks me incredulous. He lunges towards me and I take a step back. Too quick for him and he misses me as he reaches out. His hands move past my chest grazing my skin. And somehow they land on my giant cock. I swear that thing has its own fucking gravitational pull.
We both pull back at the same time, but the condom sticks to him and it comes off with him.
With all of my man juice in it. It doesn’t stay in the condom either. It splatters. All over Mr. Network’s suit. On his clothes. On his face. Jesus, on his face. For America to see.
Can you say mess? With all my fuck juice spraying his face?
Yeah. Bad luck, mate.
I look over at the camera.
"Take a good look, everyone!” I yell, waving my crotch in a circle and holding my cock out. I've lost respect for this network - where the fuck is their security? “You want a piece of this, America? I’m right here, waiting for you!”
I grab my cock and point its glistening head at the camera.
“Eleven fucking inches!” I boast, as I wave my cock in circles in front of the camera.
The network honcho's going apoplectic, trying to wipe himself off.
Maybe time to go. Besides, I've had enough. "See you all later," I say, reaching down and grabbing my boxer briefs. I slip into them and jump into my jeans and grab my wife-beaters as I head out the door.
I run to the elevator. People are standing up staring at the televisions all over the floor. They stare at me as I go by. Shock is on everyone's faces.
Outside the building, there are some people who seem blissfully aware to what's just transpired.
I run to the motorcycle, hop on, rev up the engine and peal out down the street as I hear sirens in the distance.
Alicia
The alarm clock wakes me up and I groan, trying to turn it off. I open one eyelid and look at the clock. It's only 6:30 am in the morning! I wish I could sleep more! I'm not supposed to be up till 7:30.
But I can't sleep. I guess that's the part they forget to tell you in college. You're so excited to be getting out into the real world but they forget to tell you that it means being responsible. And being responsible means worrying about bills and that means your body waking you up at 6:30 to go to a job because it's worried about paying back student loans. So you can pay for your apartment and, well, I guess life.
I'm not complaining. Please don't take it like that. It's just five years out of college, I'm living what many people think of as the dream. I mean, I have an apartment in New York City - in Manhattan as well, not priced out of the city into Astoria - that I share with a roommate and a cat. I also have a stable job. That’s more than a lot of people I graduated with have.
But that's where the dream ends and it looks more like a facade. I wake up at 6:30 every morning to go to work at the News of the Times. It's the biggest tabloid newspaper in New York City. But it's not what I expected when I got my journalism degree from Yale. I was thinking The New York Times, or the Washington Post. Instead, I work on stories for the News of the Times - maybe you saw my last story that got a front page. They put a headline on it to grab as many readers as possible when I wrote the story about the Governor of New York State being caught with a hooker in a cheap New Jersey hotel room. Want to guess the headline?
Give up?
Well this was what was blared across the page: "Ho No!".
Yup. My first big headline and it's titled "Ho No!". Really makes you want to frame it and send it over to Mom.
I sigh as I get out of bed. I'm not really complaining. Please don't think that. In fact, at the end of the day - I'm doing what I love. I've always loved journalism. I get that from my mom. See, my dad died in a car accident when I was three - so I never really got to know him. And my mom went from job to job in her career in public relations. She finally moved me to St. Livy when I was 8 to take up a job as the Press Secretary for King Leopold II.
Every day, I saw her deal with the public relations operations of the King and his kingdom. It was a very firsthand look and one that resonated with me as I grew older. You can say I had a unique childhood growing up. I lived in the palace - the King insisted that all his staff reside in the palace - and our healthcare and schooling were taken care of by the Royal coffers. Part of being a member of the King's retinue, I guess. So whereas most kids were out playing and learning about fractions and cheese in elementary schools back in America, I was in a class with the sons and daughters of lords and ladies, learning about the geopolitical changes that were affecting the kingdom with the close of the Cold War.
For a girl that loved learning, that should have been a very happy time of my life right?
It wasn't. It was horrible.
I don't know if it was me, or if it was the fact that I wasn't royalty, or that I was an American, but from the very first day I was the center of ridicule. Picked on.
It didn't help that I was a good girl. That my mother always doted on me in every aspect. That she protected me from the "ways of the royals" as she put it. I always studied. Always did my homework. Always got the best grades. And sure I had friends, but I never felt completely accepted. When I finally came back to America to go to college at Yale I finally got a chance to get out and on my own two feet.
And it felt wonderful. I started dating boys - something I didn't do all during high school. I was surprised that they were into me. I still don't know why, to be honest. Don't get the wrong idea though - I'm still a virgin. And no, I'm not waiting till marriage or anything.
It's just that I haven't met the right guy yet.
