by Romi Hart
“Remember that party you went to two days ago?”
“Barely…I go to some ridiculous charity event every goddamned day. How am I expected to remember…?”
“Well you made a great impression, kid. Check out the paper.”
David hands me a newspaper, letting me see for myself the headline.
Local Female Journalist Protests “Sexist Pig” Zander Troy’s Appearance in Fort Worth
“What?” I read the paper in confusion.
“Nice, isn’t it?” David says in sarcasm. “Apparently you got drunk at that party and offended some feminist witch. Now she’s all over the news talking about how awful you were to her.”
“That’s bullshit,” I answer quickly. “I didn’t do any such thing. I shook hands, got drunk, went to sleep in the office upstairs like I always do.”
“Well, she sees the story differently.”
“Hey…” I grab the paper again, examining the photo. “I remember this girl. I shook hands with her. She said hello. And now she’s claiming I harassed her?”
“Not quite. She’s claiming you’re a degenerate woman-hating scum of the earth and you should be banned from the city.”
“WHAT?” I say in disbelief. “Maya DeBank? Who the hell is she? I’ve never even heard of her!”
“No one said she was Barbara Fucking Walters, kid,” David says, cackling. “She’s probably some kid wanting to get her fifteen minutes of fame. And of course, if you’re a bastard to her that gives her a little extra incentive.”
“All I did was shake her hand.”
“Is that all?”
“Well…” I fold my arms and think back. “I sort of nodded at her, strongly implying she should let go of the handshake. I mean, it was over. What did she want, an autograph or something?”
“There ya go, kid,” David says with a smile. “Optimistic little girl, goes in wanting to meet her hero. Has her dreams crushed when she finds out he’s just a rich asshole like every other billionaire heartthrob.”
“Ah, Jesus,” I mutter.
“The bad news is the press is loving this. They got hold of the story and ran with it. Turns out a lot of women really hate you.”
“What? Why?” I say in confusion. “But…I’m really good in bed!”
Not to be too modest about it…
“Sure,” David says with that oily grin of his. “And that’s why they hate you, kid.”
“Jesus…”
“Oh, check it out,” David wheezes as he loads his iPad on a live stream channel. “The Associated Press picked up the story. Maya is now giving an interview.”
“What?! No one even knew who this bitch was fifteen minutes ago!”
David watches the interview in cackling amusement and I’m forced to listen as this kid, whom I barely remember meeting, tries to sabotage my career!
“I just think it’s a very lowbrow moment for the people of Fort Worth,” she says. “I mean, we’re living in very divisive times. Times where Blacks and Mexicans are finding a national voice. And a time where women are finally getting the respect they deserve from men who would silence them and sexually harass them. And I just don’t think we need more appearances from sexist pigs like Zander Troy. I think…”
The crowd surrounding her applauds.
“Enough is enough!” she says. “I mean, we can’t just go after President Trump while ignoring guys like Zander, who’s just as bad but a lot prettier. We have to send a clear message.”
“What the fuck!” I yell out, grabbing my hair in frustration. “I voted against Trump. I donated to the DNC! She’s spreading lies about me!”
I shake my head and pull the tablet away from me, trying to forget this embarrassing moment…
“Oh, and another thing,” Maya says, “I’ve heard he’s, umm…very selfish and SHORT in bed. That’s just what they tell me.” The crowd laughs.
My open mouth gradually crumbles into a laugh. Okay, now she’s just gone from batshit crazy to a total troll.
“Well, if she wanted to get my attention, she’s got it.”
“Tell you what to do, kid,” David says. “Find out where she works. Surprise her in front of all her people. Make her feel star struck. Give her a little hard TLC. You feel me? She’ll be so embarrassed, you’ll make sure she never mentions your name again.”
I laugh again. “I’ve just never heard a woman so filled with hate for me. All from one bad handshake?”
“Yes!” David says. “The handshake is what gets you!”
I decided to pay Maya DeBank a visit after finding out that she works at the local Tax Assessor-Collector Office.
As soon as I enter the room, several people do double-takes, no doubt recognizing me from television. I’m dressed in a suit and smiling wide, looking like I’m ready to buy the whole city out of spite.
“Hello, my friends,” I say with a wink. “I’m here to see Maya DeBank.”
“Maya!” a little petite lady yells out towards the back. “Visitor here to see you.”
“Ugh…” I hear her say as she emerges from behind the closed door. “Is it my mother? I already told you…”
Maya’s eyes shoot open wide as she recognizes me, and sees the most curious look on my face. A smile.
“Well hello, Maya. I believe we’ve already been formally introduced. As you know, and loathe, I am Zander Troy.”
“Umm…yeah,” she says, trying to keep her head low and stop herself from blushing.
“I get the feeling that our first encounter was not to your liking. I apologize. I can be abrupt sometimes. But I certainly never meant any disrespect. I hope you’ll accept two tickets to The King and I this weekend. Bring a guest of your own choosing.”
Maya stares at me stupidly, at a loss for words. Looks like she’s dying of embarrassment. Good, looks like I win this war.
“Umm…who would I go with?”
“Well, I assume you have a friend to take with you. At least one friend? I trust there are some good men who aren’t sexist pigs in the world and I’m sure you know each of them intimately. Er, wrong choice of words, darling.”
I giggle as do some of the onlookers.
Maya bites her lip and stares at me in angst. “You know what? I don’t need your tickets. I don’t want them.”
She furls her brow and tightens her face. She’s mad…or at least…she’s pretending to be mad.
“For your information, Mister Troy, I don’t like guys like you. And I do not accept presents from strange men who are trying to do damage control for their professional reputation.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re excused,” she snaps back. “For your information, I am a good girl.”
“Oh?”
“I am a young woman of the Catholic faith.”
“Oh really?” I say with a smirk.
“Yeah, and wipe that smile off your face.”
I hear people around me laugh, a few women applaud.
“I don’t appreciate the way you treat women and the way you snubbed me at that party. You know? The truth is, I always did admire you. Until I started to read in the papers what a jerk you were to people.”
Before I can respond, she jumps into another tirade.
“And I never wanted to believe it. But now I see it for myself. You are not a good person. You are just evil.”
“I’m evil?” I say with a nod. “Pure evil or Satan himself?”
“You are not as important as Satan, but still an evil person. I will pray for you.”
“Oh! Really? You’ll pray for me?” I can’t wipe the smile off my face but Maya is on a roll.
“And I don’t want any of your bribe money or presents. We are not friends. I do not like you. Feel free to mosey your ass on out of here.”
More people in the building laugh and applaud. This was quite a scene and I guess everyone got their free entertainment for the day. She smiles at another woman, who comes up behind her and laughs.
“Good for you!” s
he says, her blond hair shaking back and forth as she taunts me. “My name’s Renee Shimri and I’m totally with Maya on this one. We are tired of guys like you, Zander. Womanizing men who treat us like sex objects. Hashtag #TimesUp! Yeah!”
“And who are you, ma’am?”
“I’m Renee! Renee Shimri, I’m the Assistant Assessor here. And I think what Maya said was just plain awesome. And I don’t appreciate you coming here trying to intimidate her.”
“I was being NICE,” I say in frustration. “And frankly, darling, it’s none of YOUR business.”
Renee and Maya look at each other.
“See what I mean?” Maya says. “Darling? Really? In the year 2018, Zander?”
“Darling is not a swear word!”
“Just go, Zander!” Renee says, proud of her girl-power moment.
“Whatever. I did the ADULT thing, Maya.”
“You did what was good for you. What guys like you always do.”
I shake my head and start walking away, still occasionally glancing back at those two troublemakers.
As I finally exit the building, still listening to their girlish giggles, I can’t help but think I’ve been played! Maya sure as hell got my attention by being a little brat…and the first time I met her, I hardly even noticed she was alive.
Maybe that’s been her plan all along. Play me until I’m completely obsessed with her. Nice strategy, but frankly, it won’t work. I don’t need her. I don’t play the whole hard-to-get game. No woman is hard for me to get, I can have my pick of anybody.
As I drive home in my Jaguar, I can’t help but smirk at the audacity of this girl. Definitely a girl, not a woman. She likes to play mind games. Probably in her twenties, too. Probably thinking she has the whole damned world figured out. That I’m the biggest problem that needs solved, me being a rich asshole who wants to own the whole world. Some idealistic college bullshit. She has no idea who I am.
God, looking at that girl I can’t even imagine she has sex. She looks young…probably some guilt-ridden Catholic school-girl thing. First off, toots, I don’t even DO innocent.
I have nothing to do with your religious world and all that shit about purity. I’m Zander Troy, dammit. I live only by my own morals, my own code. Fuck all your prerequisites and mental gymnastics. I fuck like I pee.
But…
As I grip the steering wheel, I can’t help but feel a rush—a fire raging in my soul. I don’t just want to argue with her, I don’t just want to hate-fuck her. I want to prove something. Or maybe I want to hear more, hear more of her angry thoughts. Why is that? Is she a master manipulator?
Or worse yet…could it be that she’s just spouting off nonsense…but by coincidence she’s hitting a major nerve?
Maybe there’s something in what she said that’s really picking at my ego. Am I a good person? Am I a scoundrel hiding behind charity balls and big donations? Is my soul empty just because I have sex with a few women? Or a few hundred?
What does she want from me? What does a good man do, anyway? Is he celibate until he meets the special girl that moves his heart? I just don’t follow all that.
I know Maya’s whole thing is an act. Catholic school-girl, gimme a break. I don’t buy that and I sell horseshit-speak for a living.
I mean…she looks innocent. But there’s no such thing as an innocent person, not anymore. I remember when I was “innocent”…even back when I was innocent, I wasn’t innocent!
Even as a young man I knew what sex was and I knew I wanted it. Lots of it. I was a virgin technically, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t masturbating three times a day and thinking of fucking every teacher I met.
Dad never really talked about sex to me. Mother was absent from my life. Growing up, you’d think I would have had a complex. And hell, since my dad was Catholic I could well have been a choir boy in real life! But well…Dad had a very odd perspective of love. Yeah, that’s safe to say.
He didn’t talk much about it. But he sure as hell made it clear what a man is supposed to act like.
“Sit down, Zander,” my father said. He had a lot to drink that night and was smoking a cigar. I had been ordered by the maid to attend dinner and wear a suit. My little teenage suit could barely fit my tall, lanky figure. But it hardly mattered…because as soon as I walked in the room, I noticed something in the air changed.
There were two beautiful women sitting at the table, near my father. But they were smiling in what I thought was a very “weird” way, or at least that’s what I thought at the time. These two women were gorgeous, like the Playboy models I saw in the magazines. They were smiling at me in a weird way, not like Mom ever did, not like the maid or the cook ever did.
Like they were my “special friends”. A unique relationship that only I was allowed to have. I was entitled to it, because dad thought I was ready to handle such mature things. Little did I know at the time they were paid for…
“Hi Zander,” one of the girls said. Her name was Kika, she was buxom, golden-haired and had oceanic blue eyes. I could barely tear myself away to look at Marie, another blond with slightly smaller breasts, but still tall, sexy and very attentive to me.
I looked at my father in smiling confusion. I wondered if this was a test…or a business meeting, or even a practical joke? But he didn’t smile back. He just continued making small talk with the girls and making sure I remained the center of attention.
“Zander here is destined for greatness,” he said with a firm nod. “The prince. The heir to the throne. He has a great mind too. That’s what your teacher told me, Zander.”
“Oh…”
“For inventions. Gadgets.” Father nodded proudly. “You actually got that from your grandfather. I was never the outside-the-box thinker. That was his forte. I was always a by-the-book sort of man.”
Kika leaned in and flirted with Dad. “I respect a man of authority.”
I hadn’t really flirted with any girl at that age. But I did know what it was…mainly from late night cable channels that Dad always ensured I had in my room.
But that night, dad wasn’t interested in fulfilling his own needs. As if he had any. By God, the man could order people around left and right. He didn’t need to harass anyone, women threw themselves at him. He had sugar babies everywhere he went. A CEO at one of the Troy consulting firms once told me that my father never once paid for sex…but he paid women to leave.
“Well if there’s one thing my boy needs, it’s a sense of authority,” he said with a smirk. “I don’t want Zander becoming a wimp. Isn’t that right, boy? What do we always talk about? Discipline. That’s what makes business thrive. And coincidentally that’s what a man needs in relationships. A dominant man will never be alone. That’s for damn sure.”
The girls were tickled at the thought and continued staring at me. To the point where it was creepy…then a little nice. Then just kind of insane, like my dick was growing so fast…at a pace I couldn’t even control.
I knew at that moment I was going to lose my virginity that night. Not to one cute virgin girl like I probably deserved…but to two high-priced whores.
“Are you a big boy, Zander?” Kika asked me, curling her long, golden hair, which I stared at in fascination, like I was eying a lava lamp for the first time. “Or do you need some discipline?”
“He’s a boy,” father said. “He needs to be taught discipline. In a way that only women understand.”
Marie stared me down from across the table. She smiled, probably knowing this confused young man’s boner was out of control. She began sucking on a cherry, still eyeing me mercilessly. I had never had a blowjob before or even thought of a girl sucking my penis. Girls actually sucked dicks?!
What can I say…I only had softcore Cinemax back then, not hardcore Internet porn!
But I instantly knew what she was telling me. That she was going to pleasure me. Teach me. Teach me how to handle the intensity of touch, how to control myself. Then, how to let go. But always, ALWAYS, in contr
ol.
“Well then,” father said, standing up and taking another puff of a cigar. “Looks like I ought to be getting to bed. But Zander here is going to sleep in tomorrow. Zander, you don’t mind if these two lovely ladies spend the night, do you?”
“We’ll be quiet,” Kika teased.
“We’ll TRY to be quiet,” Marie said.
I nervously shook my head no. Then clarified. “Sure, uh…they can, uh…stay in my room. And I can sleep on the couch or whatever, you know, whatever!”
The girls laughed.
Dad only smirked and then left the room.
I can hardly describe what happened that night, let alone remember in great detail. When you’re that young, you don’t recall thoughts and sensations of that moment. But the images and the sounds stay with you, even years later.
I still remember some of the awkward beginnings. That it took me hours to learn that a man ought to seduce a woman. The girls were obviously given very clear instructions. Don’t give me anything unless I ask for it.
So we sat around my bedroom for what seemed like hours, chatting about nothing, and in pained silence as the girls continued to suck on fruit and kiss each other in boredom.
They had to coax me a little bit, to get me to claim my dominant sexuality. At first my voice was hesitant. Scratchy. Stuttering. They were very clear about what I was doing wrong.
“I’m just here to talk,” Kika teased. “Unless you can think of something else you want to do, Zander.”
“Well, yeah, maybe!” I laughed.
“What’s so funny?” she said, losing her smile.
“Maybe you could…uh…kiss me. Instead of each other.”
“Which one of us are you talking to?” Marie asked with feigned confusion.
“I want…you both to kiss me. I want to make love to you.”
