I woke up face down, naked and bare, my penis erect and throbbing as I thrust it into my Flokati blanket. Tentacle-like sheep hairs were dancing around the tip of my prick and I loved it. The sun sent ripples of soft blues rolling over my pillow as it rose into position behind the fish tank covering the entirety of my penthouse’s east facing wall.
Bloodthirsty Piranhas swam back and forth eyeing me with disgust. They hadn’t been fed in two days, and I delighted in their hatred of me. Their hungry eyes excited my sexual urges. I jumped to my feet, yelling for my maid, “Merriam”. She came in hastily wearing a tight white outfit that her young busty breasts almost broke free of.
Seeing me nude and erect didn’t faze her at this point. At my bedside drawer, she squeezed lotion onto both of her hands grabbing two tissues before approaching. She started with my testicles, her long red nails tickling in a delicate manner, grazing my cock periodically. Then slid smooth up to my shaft teasing it a bit before going to work.
I didn’t need much foreplay this time. She started whispering complements to my member as she stroked it repeatedly. “Silence,” I scolded her. I wasn’t in the mood for talk. “My glove, and be quick about it. If I go soft while you rummage through my belongings you’ll wish you had never come to America.” She was gone and back again within a couple seconds barely missing a stroke.
My penis was now tingling, twitching with each touch. She placed the glove on my right hand. It was made from a heavy rubber and laced with metal chain mesh, a spike protruding from the thumb and forefinger.
I approached the piranha tank and worked in a methodical fashion. Pricking my left forefinger, I poured a couple drops of blood into the tank’s feeding hole. This sent the piranhas into frenzy. My cock was feeling so good that I could prematurely blow before the act. Merriam was beating away furiously now, after seeing my leg begin to quiver.
I reached my gloved hand into the hostile waters and the piranhas jumped at it biting viciously. One was braver than the rest, not retreating, most likely the alpha. It just sat there hovering around my hand, biting it over and over again until I clenched my thumb and forefinger hard. The two metal spikes pierced through its temples killing him instantly. My penis began to spasm shooting my load all over the glass of the tank while blood poured out of the Piranha’s puncture wounds. It expelled outwards, a red cloud engulfing the once clear waters. I ripped the fish out of the tank and threw it in a bowl resting next to it. “Fillet it and serve it with a glass of Sauvignon Blanc in thirty minutes. I’ll be in the shower washing up.” I walked away, while she wiped down the glass and grabbed the bowl to head toward the kitchen.
After a hot shower I slipped into my Brioni suit, steam still pouring off my body. It was tailored to perfection. On great mornings I indulged a little. I placed a fresh Casa Fuente cigar in my suit pocket and strolled into the kitchen where my breakfast awaited.
A crisp New York Times was folded and placed next to my Sauvignon Blanc. Most men had transitioned to reading their paper on tablets or VEG, but call me old fashion I felt it lacked the class. The smell of a fresh newspaper was intoxicating. The ink poured off the pages and awakened my senses. It was as if a woman laid before me, new and unique, the chase if you will. I begin learning her intricacies with the turn of each page, until I learn all there is to know, which is when my favorite part comes. I’ve lost interest, figured her out, and now get to discard her to the trash.
I loved being alone in my penthouse. People who get bored disgust me. The ones that have to voice their boredom deserved to die in my book. It displays a weak mind and a terrible personality. You have an infinitesimal amount of wonders to ponder within your brain yet you find the ability not to use it. Merriam understood my joy of seclusion and knew to never be present in the same room unless I called upon her. My cell phone broke my train of thoughts, vibrating loudly next to my fork. A text popped up on the screen reading, “Number 5 detained awaiting your presence.” Change hummed in the air, and I felt optimistic for the first time in years. I gathered my things, took a deep swig of my Sauvignon Blanc and headed for the door.