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Darian
“Are you staring at my tits?” the blonde chick asks me.
“Yeah, you fucking bet I am,” I sneer back.
“Good, because I was feeling left out for a minute,” she snaps back.
I can’t help but laugh at that.
“That’s the trouble I guess when you have two beautiful women and one on each side,” I say, taking a moment to eye the one to the right of me whose tits are popping out of her black dress and the brown haired gal to the left of me with a white wraparound dress that leaves so very little to the imagination.
We’re in the back of my limo and they’ve got some champagne. My hands are holding both these women close to me as we ride. They’re part of my evening.
“Where we going anyway, Darian?” the brown haired girl, I think her name is Chloe or Kloe or something like that is asking me.
“We’re gonna go do a business meeting first and then I’m taking you to Graybar,” I say.
“Are you still working?” the blonde haired girl with the tits – whose name I’ve completely forgotten so there’s no sense trying to remember – asks.
“Baby, you don’t become a billionaire at my age in this city in real estate if you’re not always working,” I say back. “You can’t get to where we’re going if you’re not mixing business with pleasure.”
And that’s exactly what Chloe and her friend are. A little bit of business in an evening of pleasure.
So what if it's Friday evening during the summer. I’m still in New York City and I still have a reputation for working hard and partying even harder.
That’s why I’m doing this business meeting. Looking to buy a property and the land that it sits on and do a deal that’ll make me some money. And then head to one of the hottest nightclubs in the city, where I’ll have these two ladies to myself.
And after that?
Well, I’m Darian Strong. I wouldn’t be living up to my name if I didn’t take these two women back to my penthouse suite and fuck the living shit out of them.
“Darian, let's make work quick so we can go play, shall we?” the blonde asks me. “I’ve got some things to show you I think you’ll like.”
I leer at her as I run my hand up her thigh. Her dress is riding high and I’m loving the bare flesh at my touch. I squeeze her thigh and she leans close.
“I’ve got something to show you that you’re definitely gonna like, baby,” I whisper to her.
“Is it a surprise?” she asks me.
“A very big one,” I answer.
“Maybe I can see now?” she offers.
Normally I wouldn’t be opposed but I look out the window and I see that we’re pulling up to my destination.
A nondescript strip club in Midtown Manhattan. With a silly fucking name. The Wiggle Jiggle.
I get out of my limo and walk with my girls – one on each arm – past the bouncers. They know I’m VIP. Everyone in this city knows who I am.
“Mr. Kleeberger is expecting me,” I tell the host at the front and he walks me over to the VIP seating area. It’s right next to the main stage.
Max Kleeberger is a smallish looking man with a rat face and squinty fucking eyes. He’s bald and fat and looks like he’s ready to scurry at any moment.
He’s also the owner of this strip club. But not just the building. The land it sits on.
Land that if purchased, could be combined with the other offers I’ve gotten from the other lots who have agreed to sell and made into a large enough plot that could put up the next ultra tall condo and office tower.
A project like that would cost hundreds of millions.
