goodnight

"Let's have sex," the blonde in tight leggings looked at Kris as if he'd suggested they grab coffee. "Sure, love," he said, tugging at the brunette's bra strap with his teeth.

The master bedroom—with its king-size bed and mirrors on the ceiling—was already occupied by three of them when Kris entered. The redhead with the belly button piercing was on all fours on the silk sheets, moaning as the socialite scratched her back with her freshly manicured nails.

"Nobody here's a virgin, right?" Kris asked, unbuttoning his pants as the older lawyer knelt to help him.

The answer came in chorus: "Obviously not."

The brunette chuckled softly as Kris pushed her face down onto the bed, her buttocks trembling with the impact. "But you can pretend you are," he whispered, before burying his fingers in her unceremoniously.

Someone—the executive's wife, perhaps—started filming with an iPhone. No one questioned it. No one even blinked when Kris picked up his phone and pointed the camera at his own face:

"Is there room for one more?"

The video was sent to his contacts.

The replies arrived before he even finished sliding between the sweaty bodies.

*Too much power*, Kris thought, as the bed creaked under nine bodies in sync.

And the alarm clock hadn't even gone off yet.

The alarm clock finally rang at 6:17 a.m., but Kris had been awake for hours – still trapped between the legs of the last volunteer, a medical student who insisted on testing "cardiovascular endurance" while biting his neck. The dawn light filtered through the velvet curtains revealed the mess: torn underwear hanging from the crystal chandelier, a pink vibrator forgotten on the bedside table with the store tag still attached, and seven women of varying ages sleeping in anatomically questionable positions.

"Shit," Kris muttered, noticing the message on her phone: *Investor meeting in 35 minutes*.

The lawyer woke up first, professional even with her sexual hangover. "I'll take care of the cleanup," she said, already typing on her phone. "My personal injuries team is used to... post-operative situations."

While Kris wore the same shirt as the day before – now with lipstick marks in three different shades – the socialite woke up and immediately began licking beads of sweat from her abdomen. "You know that was just the first round, right?" she whispered. "My twin sister arrives from Switzerland at 11 am."

Kris smiled as she buttoned her pants. The video sent in the early morning already had 87 views.

*The day has barely begun*, she thought, adjusting her watch.

It was 6:23 a.m. when the apartment door opened for the first delivery of the day: flowers sent by a betrayed husband, a package of black lace lingerie, and three strangers who smiled when they saw him with a towel around his waist.

"We came to answer your message," said the tallest one, holding up a surgical steel case. "You said you had space."

The alarm clock rang again at 6:24 a.m.

No one called.