Page 7 of Broken Headboards
Chapter Three
Austin
I specializein all things wood.
Crafting, designing, polishing.
And, my wood is loved by everyone.
Especially by this redheaded slut between my legs. She can’t get enough of my wood. Whether its working under me or working for me, she’s always been eager to ‘polish my knob.’ I know it sounds cheesy, but those are her words exactly. She’s said it a few times to me before, and I bet she’ll say it again. Just wait and see.
But honestly, how could I resist this woman? Or, any woman really? Why would I want to? When women fawn over you all day, every day it gets hard to not give into temptation.
Hardbeing the operative word here. It’s not like I promise them a lifetime of marriage and happiness, they know what they’re getting themselves into when they’re with me.
They’ll get fucked by the best cock they’ve ever had.
Oh, and me?
I’m Austin Randall.
It’s nice to meet your acquaintance, baby. And I get it, you’re probably rolling your eyes, saying, “oh he’s an asshole,” he’s yet another man who takes advantage of his lifestyle and bad boy charm to get whatever he wants, women included. And I’m here to tell you that your assumption is fucking right on the money. Why not take advantage of what you have? In my opinion, it’d be a fucking waste if you didn’t.
But listen. Don’t let me turn you off to this story. Just as an aside, people change. And you never know—maybe I’ll go from being a despicable asshole that you hate to someone that you end up liking and rooting for. Why not give me a fucking chance, baby?
I guarantee you won’t be disappointed.
Plus, I don’t see any woman complaining while they’re with me. I’m everything these women have ever wanted…and more. A chiseled body, strong jaw and features, and very capable hands. Hands that’ll make any woman orgasm is less time than your favorite B.O.B. It’s true, I’ve been challenged.
“Yeah baby. Suck it harder,” I buck my hips up and weave my hands through her hair. She hums as the head of my cock hits the back of her throat.
I lean back on my desk chair and spread my legs farther apart, looking out at the New York City skyline.
Now this is the fucking life. I have it made, and I did it all by myself.
I’m sitting 80-stories high above the city in my office, surrounded by my trophies and awards for wood-making while some temp sucks my dick. I feel like the fucking king. I have been called that a few times in bed—‘My King’ to be exact.
I place my hands behind my head and let out a satisfied sigh, reveling in this moment.
“Do you like that?” Her tongue traces the tip of my cock, kneading my balls with her fingers. “Do you like how I polish your knob?”
See, I told you. Less than a few paragraphs later and she says it. I knew it.
“Oh fuck…” I hiss, trying not to laugh.
She chuckles, and I look down at her. I assess the little slut on her knees, perched between mine, and I drink in the scene. She’s hot, but I’ve had hotter. She is a firecracker I’ll tell you that. Fiery red heads are not just a stereotype, it’s a real thing.
I’m not going to complain though, she’s very competent at her job. Even if it is just temporary. But when is it not for me?
I told you I’m an asshole, baby. I’ll never deny that. As you’ve probably figured out by now, this isn’t the first time I’ve had a temp salivating over my successful wood.
I am the most sought-after furniture designer in the country after all.
Austin Randall, the CEO of Oakmont Furniture Inc. at your service, baby. I’m one of the only mass-market furniture companies in the country that still makes all their furniture in America.
And, once women get a whiff of who I am, they can’t stop but drool all over me. A man who knows how to use his hands and is a mastermind when it comes to business is like their version of the American Dream come true. And, I can’t argue with them. Despite me never wanting to live that life, I know I’m the type of man they’d want to take home to their parents.
Fuck, I’ve got the looks, the charm, the brains and the skill to keep any woman more than satisfied. But I’d rather go to their bedroom, not their parent’s house.
