Chapter 66 Chevy
Chevy
“You have a dick!” I screamed, bolting upright and covering my bare breasts with my hand.
“Most men do, sweetie.” Anja grinned at me.
“You’re a man!”
“Well, isn’t it obvious?” he said, pointing to his rock-hard penis.
“But, but—”
“But what?” he said, taking a step closer to the bed.
“I—what—why…”
“Okay,” he began as he took a seat on the edge of the bed and crossed his legs, “I will give you the short version. I started out as a singer-slash-comedian-slash-gossip-whore in the nightclubs. I had a very David Bowie–like look: eyeliner, shadow, teased hair, the whole shebang, you know?”
I didn’t, but I nodded my head anyway.
“It went over really well with the Wong Foo crowd and I started making a lot of money. That was when I was living in San Francisco.” He added matter-of-factly, “By the way, I was married with two kids at the time. My ex-wife was the one who thought it would be fun to dress me up like it was Halloween all year long. I didn’t mind, I’m very confident about my sexuality. ”
My eyes bulged.
“So one day this guy came up to me and offered me a gig with this underground radio station. I took it, and as my career developed, so did the Anja persona.”
I just stared at him. Only shit like this happened to me.
“What’s your real name?” I asked.
“Andre,” he said, and then reached over and plucked a tissue from the box on the nightstand.
“Andre?”
“Yes,” he said as he used the tissue to wipe the lipstick from his lips.
“You know you can’t repeat any of this. You did sign a confidentiality agreement, and we wouldn’t want Anja to have you hunted down and killed.
” He gave me a little smirk, and for the first time he totally let go of his feminine voice.
“So are we going to do this or what?” Andre said, cocking his head to one side and giving me a sly, sexy smile.
I gulped. “Why do you have to pay women to sleep with you?”
“I don’t, sweetie. It’s a tax write-off,” he said as he leaned over and kissed me on the lips.
It was nice, I have to admit. And once his tongue pried through my clenched teeth, it was even better than nice.
He wasn’t a bad-looking man at all, and he knew what to do with that big cock of his. I can’t even remember the last time my toes curled during sex.
Well, at least I thought it was the sex. It might have just been the five thousand dollars and the Nordstrom account!