Fragile Desires

The moaning sounds of two adults filled the presidential suite of the third floor of a penthouse. The masculine voice was louder, overshadowing the muffled sounds of the female who seemed to be in need as he wantonly hit her from the back.

He went on faster, thrusting in and out of her. His member suddenly slipped off her hole, he was about to fill her back when the loud beeping of his cellphone interrupted them, putting a halt to their sexual mission.

Callan groaned, he loathed being disturbed at a time like this. He had been working his ass off at work, and now was the time he had to have some fun, but someone chose that time to disturb him with calls. He cussed, his expression turning sour as he slid out of her.

"Do you want to pick that?" The brunette whose ass was still raised in the air asked him. She was in need and would regret it if Callan didn't finish with her tonight. Not everyone got to have a romp with the mighty Callan Barlowe, she had managed to catch his attention and she didn't want that opportunity to slip off her hands.

"Yes," wholly naked, he ambled across the room, moving to grab the phone from the bed. He picked up the phone and another call came in. He swiped up to pick up the call. "Hey mom," his deep baritone voice reverberated through the room. "What's happening tonight?" He asked, crinkling his eyes in confusion.

"We have a dinner with Arnold Sullivan and his daughters. Have you forgotten we are meeting with them today?" His mother's voice pierced his ears. "He has beautiful daughters that you will love. His first daughter is very beautiful, I already spoke to her and she seems to be interested in you too."

Callan scoffed, bobbing his head. "She does not even know me."

"She does. Everyone knows my son. I will be expecting you by eight, I love you." She ended the call before he could counter her words.

He sauntered over to where the brunette was, his eyes bloodshot red with fury. "Are you leaving?" She asked him.

He squinted his eyes, "How is that a business of yours?" Pulling out the drawer attached to the dresser in the room, he shoved out some stacks of cash and handed them over to her. "Leave before I finish in the bathroom." With that said, he strolled into the bathroom.

The brunette fumed with resentment as she watched Callan lazily drag his feet into the bathroom. He wasn't done with her yet, but she had to leave. There was always a second time, and she hoped she'd get the chance to be in bed with Callan again.

-

Callan swayed his lanky body when he got into the bathroom, he slid into the bathtub and had a slow bath, wondering why his mother wanted him to get married at all costs. He wasn't interested in getting married, all he knew was to work hard, sleep with women and make more money.

Getting married was never part of his plan, and he hoped he wouldn't see a lady that would suit him from all the six daughters of Arnold Sullivan that he was meeting tonight.

He finished from the bathroom and sauntered back into the vast bedroom. The room was the finest on the third floor of his five-floor penthouse. He specially set that room aside for his licentious activities.

He donned a pair of black trousers with a white button-down T-shirt, and a black jacket to fit. He proceeded to the long-length mirror to fix his bowtie. Ruffling his wavy dark hair, he admired his well-structured manly body in the mirror. There was evidence of his continuous and relentless workouts.

He smiled, he was the perfect definition of looks and a killer body.