I'm an executive for a multi-international corporation, and I'm on a business trip to Seoul to discuss finances with our fellow beneficiaries. I arrive to the room to find it empty except for a topless South Korean prostitute sucking on a twizzler on top of a post-modern glass table. My conservative values dictate me to venture away from the seductive strumpet, but her eyes engage me feelings I've longed repressed since the days of childhood abuse.
I walk over to her slowly; she's wearing a transparent satin G-string with the print 'Cash Money' written across the base. Beads of sweat roll down my Armani suit as my brain begins to electrify with the thoughts of grandiose sexual adventures, but I cannot manage a cohesive thought, and the only thing that seems feasible is to offer the wage of an honest day's work.
I retrieve a large bundle of ones from my inner seam pocket, and extend an oppurtunity to the girl to change her deviant behaviour for the betterment of our Christian society. She graciously accepts my offer, but instead of leaving the room to begin her career as a blossoming entrepreneur, she begins to touch the money against her flesh softly, arousing herself to quiet moans before my eyes.
I try to look away, but the urge is far too great, and I bare victim to her whoreship of my honest wage; rubbing it against the pores of her skin and gracing her legs and thighs like an angel I once saw on the cover of 'Conservative Man Weekly'. She then begins to masturbate with the bundle of ones, and I stare in sheer awe at her resourceful utilization of the oppurtunity: it was very artsy; she'd make an EXCELLENT assistant.
She begins to orgasm, and forcefully insert the ones in and out of her vagina; panting and moaning like a wildebeast mounting on the African Sahara. Animalistic urges have shot my eyes; I am one with my inner caveman; waiting for an oppurtunity to grab a blunt object and bash her skull in to play in her blood ehhoohhhoo.
But the moment never seizes me, and she removes her g-string and positions herself against the glass table, and then shoves the bundle up her ass. I'm aghast by this outpouring of liberal behaviour; this is surely typical of the Democratic agenda, but the will is too strong in this one, and I surely can't make her a presentable house wife. She penetrates her asshole deeper and deeper; I can see the fecal matter tracing on the ones after every bout of penetration, and then she lets out a fart.
A stream of shit pours onto the ones; gushes like an unquenchable waterfall pouring onto a river dolphin. I don't know much of the river dolphin, but I'm sure one day we'll make a business transaction to the betterment of our respectable parties. She continues to drench the ones I gave her; moaning uncontrollably, so uncontrollably I..errruhhahhhh
I ruin the dress pants of my armani suit, and I'm devastated because it wasn't an efficient use of funds. Embarrassed by my blatant disregard for fiscal means; I exit the room never to see the South Korean prostitute again. To this day, I wonder what use she made of the ones I gave her. Did she invest in the future of her probable seven children, or did she continue to objectify my slavery as a makeshift dildo. It dwells in me a deep resentment; not knowing what became of my money. I was extensively devastated; I could of used the ones to by a new pair of dress pants.
I return to America with a blank slate; desperately reprogramming myself to forget the eventful dusk where my life would inevitably change forever. Knowing these pent up feelings of sexuality would do no good to my Puritan soul, I retire to a bathroom stall to viciously masterbate; gazing up on the shit-crusted walls of my inner sanctum, and the toilet paper littered all over the tile. When my hands are raw red, I exit the stall and gaze upon my reflection in the mirror.
What have I become? Am I the man I use to be, or was I ever really a man? The regret courses deep within my blood, and I lose my identity to that whore who objectified everything that ever made sense to me. And then I remembered I had to take a shit.
And that is my sexual fantasy.
Over the course of this story, I came seven times.