by Aaron Cohen
In this case, it is a big problem. He has to get off to get her off. She wants that, made her desire known. When a woman does that, you can trust her. There is no kidding around when a cock is 8 inches inside you. The truth comes out in such situations.
He plows into her faster, focusing on the sensations around his cock, the electric velvet that charges each time he plunges into her. He thinks about her smooth, plump, pale legs wrapped around him. He loves that she kept her high heels on.
He has to do it. He has to go there. This woman he is fucking, she is beautiful and he wants her, wants to please her. But he needs to cum, and sometimes, to get that job done, you have to do what needs to be done, just like Ben said.
Leanne. I’m fucking Leanne. She is underneath me and her pussy is wet for me, open for me. Oooooooyessssss…
He releases, gives her everything he has, filling her, a part of her for that moment, connected, their bodies joined and perfectly in sync.
She grimaces, looks toward heaven, her eyes full of wonder and ecstasy. She yells in his ear.
When it’s over, they lay panting for a few moments, entangled, he still in her, shrinking, relaxing, growing soft.
“Wheeeoo,” she says, wiping a little sweat off her forehead. “How did you want me to vote again, sweetie?”
Chapter Sixty-Four
Exa shows up at the Commission meeting an hour late, her hair slightly mussed, her lipstick not quite uniform around her lips, her blush a little too heavy. A careful observer would notice. Exa being anything less than perfectly polished is a rare event. But there are no careful observers in this crowd. They are here to argue, and are mad they had to wait.
Exa, however, appears to be in an exceedingly good mood. Her smile is so radiant it burns away the negative atmosphere in the room almost immediately.
She takes her seat, taps her gavel and brightly says, “Hello, all! So sorry for being late. Shall we begin?”
There is two hours of debate, annoying, tedious debate conducted by the usual idiots, each of them schlepping up to the microphone, ready to have their say as citizens in the glorious process called Democracy. She smiles through it all.
Religious people quote various biblical passages, twisting the meaning of those passages to agree with their argument, no matter how nonsensical. Accountants for both sides use numbers, spreadsheets and charts to explain why if their side doesn’t win it will mean economic doom and how if they get their way it will mean a golden age of prosperity. A feminist explains, quite sensibly, that while her organization supports legalizing prostitution, it doesn’t support this law which basically turns sex workers into willing slaves with no rights for months at a time. That’s not the way it should be done.
On the other side, another woman who also says she represents a woman’s rights organization, a woman in a more expensive suit and better jewelry than the previous feminist, explains that dancing in a strip club is demeaning and should be outlawed while working as a legal prostitute is noble, honest work and all women should thank Empire Resorts for legitimizing and bringing respect back to an ancient profession.
On and on they drone. Exa tries to listen, but her mind wanders back to Luke, that lovely boy and his magic cock, not to mention his skilled tongue.
***
While the meeting proceeds, over at Media 4 Masses, Hank hands the recovered data stick to Artie.
Artie slides it into a computer and begins his work.
“Are you sure about this?” Leanne asks Willard.
“Sometimes in politics, if you can’t use a scalpel, use a shotgun. Fire away.”
Artie has set up several anonymous email accounts and written a simple program that will send the same piece of mail from them to every significant and semi-significant news organization in North America, as well as members of the FBI, SEC and the local police. It will be impossible to trace where the mail came from, but the information itself will be everywhere.
He prepares the package. He hits Send.
“Bombs away,” he says.
***
The vote happens. The measure fails, 3 for, and 4 against, Exa being the deciding vote. Luke is to visit her tonight at her home to thank her. She thinks about what to wear. Leopard print comes to mind.
The news of Empire’s scheme explodes across Las Vegas, and then the entire country. It’s a story with everything: sex, violence, murder, politics, religion and rich people… everything Americans love.
News vans spread out over Vegas. Before the end of the day, there isn’t a strip club in town that doesn’t have in front of its doors a satellite truck and a newscaster proclaiming the near death of the stripping industry, how a bill that would have killed erotic dancing was defeated, and how that bill is now linked to the arrest of the president of Empire Resorts, David Vaddio.
Says Jennifer into the TV camera as she stands in the shadow of the towering sign for The Pussycat Club:
“The fate of The Dark Star is now unknown. It was to be the world’s largest legal brothel, not to mention a full service casino-resort. Sex would have been sold for thousands of dollars a night, and when not being serviced, customers would have enjoyed five fine-dining restaurants, a massive buffet, a movie theater, and ice skating rink and a bowling alley. Now, after today’s vote at the county commission, and with more arrests reportedly in the works, it’s safe to say The Dark Star will remain dark for a long time to come.”
Back at Media 4 Masses, a party is getting started, a victory party.
People in business attire pass around bottles of champagne and glasses. High fives occur. Some hugs as well. Everyone is smiling.
Dance music is blaring from someone’s computer speakers. The women sway to the beat a little, almost dancing, but holding back because it’s still the office during a work day. The men watch the women, and think about what men think about when women wearing skirts and heels begin to sway to a beat.
Luke walks in sees Leanne, and his heart skips a beat. She is glowing. He wants to tell her what he did, how he saved her cause, but of course how he did that is a bit of an awkward story.
Hank is there, too, with his arm around her, and she has hers around him. It looks friendly enough. But Luke doesn’t like it, not at all.
Hanks spies Luke from across the room, grins at him.
“There he is!” Hank yells and points. “There is the guy who saved the day!”
The room erupts in applause. Luke blushes. He’s never been cheered for fucking before.
He walks over to them, his weird little crew, Artie and Cecil, both grinning, Hank and Charlie, looking like a couple hippies who wandered in off the street to sell pot to the white collar warriors, and there is Leanne, hot, smart, strong, hot Leanne.
She rushes into his arms. For the moment, she is his.
“Thank you,” she says and kisses him on the cheek.
Luke is pretty sure that it is the first cheek peck to give him a raging hard on.
Leanne leaves Luke to give a big hug to Willard, who looks half-drunk already.
“Fucking best lobbying ever,” he says to Luke while holding a glass half full of champagne. “Kid, you have a future ahead of you.”
Do I? Do I have a future doing something other than mowing lawns and trying to get laid? Maybe I do. Maybe I do.
Chapter Sixty-five
A few hours later, the official victory party happens at Two-Can Alley, one of the smaller clubs, but also one that doesn’t mind being closed on a Friday night.
The stage is a giant black lacquered cross where strippers can parade back and forth, or swing from poles at the end of each walkway and in the center of the X.
But the strippers aren’t on stage right now. They are crowded into the club, drinking, chatting and laughing, enjoying a party where boobs will not be exposed except as a drunken expression of joy. They are in street clothes (jeans, shorts, track suits), not the usual school girl outfits and evening gowns held in place by Velcro.
Also her
e are the strip club owners, all male, all in their 50s and 60s, all with either shaved heads or with hair long enough to be considered cool in 1975.
“Here they are, everyone!” says the freshly bailed out Al Duran into the PA system, speaking over the blaring electronic dance music. “These guys saved our asses!”
Leanne pulls Hank up a short flight of stairs and onto the stage. Charlie is right behind him, followed by Cecil and Artie.
Luke holds back, not wanting to be embarrassed any further. The story of him fucking Exa to buy some extra time before the vote has already made the rounds. Every lobbyist and PR person in Las Vegas knows about it, as does every stripper. He is legend.
Leanne winks at him, nods, and says, “Get up here, Luke!”
He can’t resist her. He heads up onto the stage, and she hugs him again.
“I can’t thank you enough,” she says.
“Leanne, I…” The words get stuck in his throat. He needs to say something to let her know how he feels. He would do anything for her.
“Shhhhhh,” she says with a smile. “We’ll talk later.”
“Looking forward to it.”
That smile gives him hope, a new hope.
***
David lies in a hospital bed, handcuffed to the railing, police guards sitting outside. He thinks about what he did wrong, how it all came apart.
Too much money, too much risk. Las Vegas has grown too big and too expensive to buy outright. Bribes only went so far. He needs to build a new organization and not rush. It should slowly grow in power, getting stronger and bigger, but staying invisible until it is too late.
If, say, he uses a shell corporation to buy a mid-level casino on The Strip, he could start there. Establish a revenue stream, make a few friends, hire a few new people. Then buy another, and then another. And if a few casino owners need to take a long nap, that will be fine. He can arrange that.
He eats his horrible hospital food, a dry-as-shit turkey sandwich and lime Jell-O, and makes plans.
THE END
Thanks to Brian for the editing, feedback and advice.
Whatever this thing is, it is way better because of him.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
From Charlie’s Notebook
On Being Mute
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
From Charlie’s Notebook
On Being Fat
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
From Charlie’s Notebook
On the Front of the House, and the Back of the House
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
From Charlie’s Notebook
On God Existing, Though He Probably Doesn’t
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-one
From Charlie’s Notebook
On War
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-five
