Rich Old Man And My Wife
RICH OLD MAN AND MY WIFE
The first time I met him was at a staff party; everyone was pretty shocked when he turned up, he was a billionaire media mogul after all, and we were just a small newspaper he'd obtained when he bought a bigger outfit in Chicago that owned us.
But there he was, in the flesh, right in our grimy little office.
He spent most of the evening talking to my wife.
Now Joyce was never a woman who stopped traffic, she wasn't in the same league as the models he was normally associated with, or the supermodel he'd recently married. My wife was [and still is] a beautiful woman, but it's her personality and intelligence that sets her apart.
"What were you talking to him about last night?" I asked her the following evening, the first time we had time to talk.
"Lots of things. He's such a nice man, Rick; and so interesting."
"Did he say anything about the future of the paper?"
"Not really. He asked me a lot of questions though."
"What kind of questions?"
"About the staff mainly, but he was really nice."
"You said that."
"I told him about your ideas to help the circulation. I think he liked them."
We were still talking about him when there was a knock on the apartment door. I opened it to find Him standing there; Him, our new owner, my boss, the billionaire entrepreneur, alone at my very humble door!
He offered me his hand; "Rick isn't it?" he asked.
"I... yes." I said, stunned.
He shook my hand and entered. I wondered how he'd gotten through the downstairs door without getting buzzed in; I never did find out.
The big man looked around our small place, until his eyes settled on Joyce, who seemed fairly flustered.
"I wanted to talk to you in private." He said, "Mind if I sit down?"
"Of course not, please..." I stammered, still not believing He was here. "Can I get you anything? Wine, juice?"
"A glass of wine would be nice." He said, seating himself on our sofa. "Sit with me, dear." He said to my wife, patting the cushion next to himself, "I enjoyed our conversation last night."
I poured us each a glass of wine, feeling confused and threatened, yet helpless.
"I came by the newspaper last night to announce my intention to shut it down." The big man said, putting his arm around Joyce's shoulders; she just looked straight ahead into empty space, her eyes big and round, like an animal on a lonely country road shocked by the headlights of an unexpected truck.
"I'm sure you know that the losses it runs are significant." He continued, "But then I started talking to Joyce here, about all the people involved. You all seem so nice; well, what's the point of all my power and wealth if I can't give a second chance every now and then."
I struggled to come up with some words; I'm a writer, not a speaker. "But sir, I'm just a junior editor. Why have you come to me?"
His powerful hand clamped my wife's bare shoulder; she was wearing a simple strapped smock. Joyce just stared at me in shock, as if seeking some direction from me; but I had none to give her.
"Because of your wife, Rick. I'm very impressed with her; a PhD in mathematics is really an achievement. Now she's told me of your energy and ideas. I like the idea of throwing a new man into the ring, giving someone a chance to make a difference. Perhaps you can turn the paper around, perhaps you can preserve all those jobs and the families that depend on them. The position pays well, so Joyce could stay home and work on her theorems. Would you like that?"
My throat was dry; was this a joke? "Yes; yes sir I would."
"Excellent. I like to do something really good every now and then; I also like to do something bad on occasion. Sometimes, I do both simultaneously."
And with that, he shifted his hand to the back of Joyce's head, and twisted her face around towards him. He wrapped his other hand around her neck for good measure, and he kissed her, he kissed my lovely young wife on her mouth. Her eyes bulged in shock, but she let him kiss her, making absolutely no effort to stop him. How could she, after what he'd just said?
I stared in helpless shock; what should I do? A hundred jobs, our local paper, my future, or my wife? He was a hundred times the man I was, and we all knew it. A million dollars was pocket change to him, the business I worked for was just a nuisance.
"Now here's how this would work." he said, breaking the kiss, and running his hand behind Joyce's back. "You'll do an article about me, you'll accompany me around for a few weeks. It will be mainly complimentary, with just enough criticism to make it seem balanced."
He brought his hands to my wife's thin pale shoulders and pulled the straps of her smock down before I realized he had just unzipped her dress; her small firm breasts stood proud, the pink nipples erect in the cold air of the room. Her face was blank with confusion, and I guess mine was probably pretty much the same.
"Your publishing director is retiring in a month anyway. I'll promote you to the post, everyone will say it was because of the article, no one will ever guess the truth."
"And what is the truth?" I asked.
He turned to me for a moment and smiled, before tugging her dress right out from under my astonished wife and threading it over her long thin legs.
"I think you know the answer to that, Rick. Let's not discuss the specifics, all right?"
I looked at Joyce, and she looked back at me, her big innocent eyes begging for an answer to this conundrum; how could we agree? Yet how could we refuse?
In the next few seconds, his shoes and trousers were off, he pulled my wife's panties off, her milky pale legs were splayed out, and right before my bulging eyes, he was holding a large and stiff old penis against her groin.
"Relax my dear." He coaxed her persuasively, "Just relax and lean back."
"But I couldn't!" she objected feebly.
"Of course you can, my dear." He answered her, the full force of his considerable personality focused on her. I was simply ignored, as if I was no longer there.
My tongue was swollen and parched, my limbs had gone weak; what kind of a man were we dealing with? who could do such a thing and expect to get away with it?
Joyce is a delicate creature, with thin limbs and long slightly wavy orange hair. Her complexion was smooth as a baby's; at 24, she was still asked for ID when we went to clubs. Her slim fine youth was in stark contrast to his large grey middle-aged bulk. Her innocent beauty was the opposite of his corrupted desire.
He lifted her long legs in either arm, opening her and pushing her slightly back. She stared up at him silently, as helpless and stunned as I was.
I felt a weird numbness, like when I'd had a bad car accident once. I had not yet acknowledged what was happening, that an overwhelming force had suddenly crashed into our lives, and was now taking my wife right before my eyes.
On his knees on our carpet, the powerful man maneuvered his stiff rod to Joyce's spread pink snatch. She stared at him silently, her mouth hanging open, the tension of this weird moment painted across her face.
His penis rested on her for a moment, then he pushed his hips forward, and the tip entered her; before my eyes, my young wife was being defiled by the billionaire.
"This is wonderful!" the media mogul exclaimed as he worked his bottom tighter into the valley of Joyce's smooth spread thighs. She looked at me for a moment, her clear eyes impossible to read, then looked away.
"There's just no feeling like this in the world; total domination, complete power, to take a young wife while her helpless husband watches." He said, sliding his big stiff member right into her. I realized that there must be some lubrication coming from one of them.
"I have thirty-five thousand employees, I have dinners with world leaders, but this is true power. How old are you, Rick?"
"And have you ever watched your lovely wife with another man before?"
"Well that's good. It was once normal for a chieftain or a king to have his way with whichever woman he desired, but things have changed."
He was not obese, but he was fairly overweight. I knew he was past sixty, he'd had several wives, several children, and some grandchildren. His big ass moved up and down, driving his big cock into Joyce's body as he spoke.
"This is something primal, Rick." He continued, "I'm alpha male right now, I'm having your woman and you've chosen not to oppose me. As you watch, you will probably feel aroused; this is nothing to be ashamed of. Your instinct is to have her as soon as I'm through, so that your sperm will have an at least equal chance."
My wife was sprawled on the sofa below him, one leg trailing on the floor and the other thrown over his pudgy thighs; she stared into his eyes with a strange expression, as if unsure what she felt herself. As if she was ashamed of her own feelings, her unspoken consent to his desire and my utter humiliation.
"The thing you should know is that your wife is more than willing, Rick." He said as he thrust himself into her, "She was flirting with me for hours yesterday. You have to realize what I represent, I'm the ultimate successful male. She's flattered that I should choose her, that a man like me would compromise myself this way for her. Yes, I'm old and not in perfect physical condition, but I'm top dog."
He loomed above her, his hands on her slim hips; her knee fell to the horizontal, and I could see right between them, I could see her sweet pink snatch and the stiff old cock slipping easily in and out of it. She looked so sweet and young below him, so fine, like a child. It was too horrible to watch, too fascinating to look away from.
He stopped for a moment, and taking her head in his hands, kissed her tenderly for a minute before resuming.
"You're a lovely woman, Joyce, but what really gets me is your intelligence. The idea of mating with a really brainy woman is totally appealing to me. Tell me, do you love Rick?"
He stopped fucking her while he awaited her answer.
Joyce spoke for the first time since this madness had begun, several minutes and an eternity before; "Yes... yes I do."
"Excellent! And you Rick, do you love her as well?"
"Of course." I said, my voice sounding weirdly normal.
My employer started up again, banging my wife hard at the end of each stroke, so her body shuddered at each impact.
"You love her even at this moment, as you watch me defile her, as she succumbs to me?"
"Say it again, tell her. Go on, tell her!"
"I love you, Joyce." I said, as my eyes began to run and my voice choked.
Her hands gripped his wide shoulders, her skinny legs wrapped around his middle, and her breath came in short sharp gasps; her long orange hair fell over the edge of the sofa onto the floor, her green eyes stared at the face of the old billionaire she was coupled with; he fucked her hard, his big body dominating her totally.
My wife came, groaning with the intensity of the sensation; the conflict, the outrage, the pleasure, the passion. He groaned as well, and holding her tightly, ejaculated deep inside her.
"Fantastic." He said after a minute's quiet. He kissed my wife again and sat up, his cock pulling out of her. "There's nothing in the world that can top that, and believe me, if there was I'd know about it." He said.
Joyce lifted her leg over him and got to her feet. She looked at me with tears brimming in her eyes, and silently went into the bedroom.
"Ok, Rick, here's the deal." He said, making no move to dress himself.
"You, and your wife of course, will spend a few weeks traveling around with me and my entourage while you write your piece on the new owner of your paper. Is she on the pill?"
"She has an IUD."
"All right. That will have to come out as soon as possible. You can catch up with me in a few weeks."
"Wait a minute! You want to make my wife pregnant!"
"Of course, Rick. Why do you think I find her so attractive? I want fit children, smart children.
"As a wealthy man, I want to diversify my assets. As a father, I want the same thing. I don't have the time to raise and love all the children I'd like to have; so this is the deal. I place my child in your house. No one will know, you will bring him or her up as your own. That's it, that's all. I know, you know, Joyce knows, no one else. I keep your paper open, you're in charge, good salary, respect. Joyce doesn't have to get that job in the city to pay her student loan, she can stay home with her computer and our child, thinking deep thoughts, perhaps solving a theorem or two, while being a mother."
I stared at him; even after what had just happened, this was way too far.
"Forget it! No way. I know you're a big guy, but we have our pride too! We'll get by somehow."
"Rick." Joyce spoke from the bedroom door. "We should do it."
"What? Are you crazy?"
"I want to do it, it's a good arrangement."
She was now wearing a short robe; her hair was disheveled, her feet were bare, but her green eyes were clear.
Janet was a stunning woman, and the big man's PA. She was about 5'9", six feet in her heels. Her complexion was perfect and pale, her eyes clear and blue, her hair very blond. Joyce seemed almost dull next to Janet; although the PA was dressed for business in a dark skirt and white blouse, she reeked of an efficient glamour. She took my wife away to a gynecologist for a complete checkup and to have her birth control removed.
We heard nothing from the man himself, but after another couple of weeks, Janet turned up again, and took us and our luggage in a limo to the airport. We boarded a private jet, and were flown to New York. Another Limo took us to the Waldorf Astoria hotel, where we were booked into a suite.
That night, the mating of my wife and the affluent man who had bought us began for real.
Janet came by our suite first. She brought some things for Joyce to wear; black pumps and stockings, a pair of diamond ear studs, a bottle of perfume. She helped my wife get ready, fixing her hair and telling her what a wonderful man our employer was. I wondered why he didn't breed with Janet instead; she seemed pretty suitable. But then of course for all I knew, he had.
He let himself into our suite with his own key. He shook hands with me first.
"Good to see you again Rick, how are you?" he said affably. "Janet. Ah, Joyce; I've been thinking of little else for these last few weeks, how are you feeling?"
He took both her hands and looked down at her in apparent concern.
"I'm fine, thanks." She said. She was wearing a short silk robe over her nakedness, but the sexy nylons and shoes were very much in evidence.
"Excellent." He said, "Let's go into the bedroom. You too, Rick. I want you to be there."
"Why?" I asked despairingly; the reality was bad enough without having to actually witness it.
"Because it's more fun that way." He said with a laugh, leading my wife through the door.
"Sit there and watch." He instructed, waving at a chair opposite the bed. I sat down as he gently removed the robe from Joyce's shoulders, as they tentatively kissed each other.
She was small in his arms; tiny and young, vulnerable. We were just ordinary people, we stood no chance against his charisma, his confidence, his awesome wealth. He'd pressed us into a corner; we could save the paper, the jobs of all our friends, we could jump into the life we wanted. All we had to do was let him impregnate Joyce. Just pretend that his child is mine; the child would be mine actually, I would be the psychological father. All He wanted was the biological part. And the sex of course.
Joyce was on the bed now, and he was lowering his head between her thighs. He pushed her knees farther apart, spreading her so wide that I could see his tongue stroke her gleaming pink vaginal lips.
Joyce shuddered, clutching at his head, squirming at his attentions; he didn't have to pleasure her. He could have just done the deed and gotten back to his very busy schedule, but he clearly intended to take his time.
"I adore the taste of woman, don't you?" he said to me.
"I like the taste of my woman." I answered.
"The way Joyce wraps her thigh around my neck is sweet too." He said, reaching behind himself to stroke her foot as he licked her some more.
"There's just one problem." He said, looking up from his task again; "The smell on your mouth can be offensive to some women. My wife won't kiss me after I've been in her box. Take over for me, Rick, while I rinse my mouth."
"Come on, man! She's your wife after all, keep her warm for a minute."
He gestured at her orange framed hole, the entrance of her womb, soon to be filled with his seed.
Her pale thighs were spread wide in invitation; against my better judgment, I stepped to the bed and lowered my head to my wife's waiting clit. I didn't have the gumption to disobey him, even here in the privacy of the suite.
She moaned, clamping my head between her legs. I pushed my tongue into her, tasting her sweetness while I still could.
After a minute, I wondered what had become of the other man; I looked up to see that he was back already. He was kissing Joyce on her mouth as I did her lower parts. There seemed to be something wrong with that, so I pulled away, back to my chair.
He rolled into the gap I'd left, filling the vacuum between her thighs with his bulk; I saw her reach down to guide him into herself.
"Ah, that feels good." He said to her with a smile, "How is it for you, my dear?"
"Wonderful." She said, "It's really nice."
"And you Rick, are you alright over there?" he asked considerately, "Why don't you pull it out and please yourself while you watch?"
It did feel good to have my cock in my hand, to stroke myself while they did it together. It was a humiliation of course, but it hardly mattered; there was no lower to go, so I figured I might as well take my small pleasure.
He wasn't very talkative this time, which was a relief really. He just held my lovely wife tenderly as he screwed her energetically, his big barrel of a body moving above her, pushing his big stiff cock in and out of her, readying her to receive his sperm.
Joyce began to come; he pumped her harder. She began to whimper, clutching him tightly; he stiffened, she cried out, he held her tight and grunted in satisfaction as he filled her waiting tubes with his premium sperm.
I held my stiff dick as they finished; he turned and looked at me. "Joyce darling, would you like to take Rick in your mouth? He's looking a bit left out."
She looked at me sadly, her big clear eyes regarding my lonely dick. She nodded her assent. I went to the bed, and she sucked me off as he watched.
It was a busy few weeks for me, I had to follow him around all the time, staying out of the way and making notes for my article. Every night, he made love with my wife, and I had to watch.
The second week though, he asked Janet to come into the room.
"Yes sir?" she asked.
"Janet, would you please give Rick a blow job? Watching his wife and I has been getting him a touch frustrated."
"Of course." She said, as though it was just another task. I guess it was.
"Janet loves cock." He explained. "You don't mind, do you Joyce?"
"No, it's a good idea." She said. "Then I won't have to feel sorry for Rick anymore."
The stunning Janet dropped to her knees in front of me, and took my cock into her mouth; it was incredibly friendly, so warm and wet. She sucked me gently, stroking my balls as I watched the couple on the bed.
She was very beautiful, in a very different way to Joyce; she used cosmetics skillfully, her lips were ruby red, her lashes teased out, eye shadow accentuated her face, her thick blond hair was done twice a week, never a split end on Janet.
I came in her throat, and she milked every drop from me before she was through, pulling at my cock and balls for more.
After that, she would sit with me each evening, and we'd make out as we watched. Janet loved two things, kissing and giving head. She liked me to strip down, but she never took her own clothes off. She'd feel me up, playing with my cock as we shared some tongue; then always sucking me off, swallowing it all down.
She was an extremely proficient woman.
At last, our strange time with the superrich was over; we returned to our town, our life, our friends.
And Joyce was pregnant.
We didn't see him for about five years. Administration people would come from headquarters to check up on the paper, he didn't waste his time with such trivia.
Joyce and I never discussed those weeks, the dark secret of our success as well as the conception of our first child. We just got on with our lives, and I loved our first baby as much as our second, which came along a couple of years later.
Then one evening there was a knock on the door; it was him.
He shook my hand and kissed my wife; with some passion, too.
How are you, Joyce?" he asked, looking into her eyes.
"Very well, thank you." She said, her eyes shinning up at him.
He strode into our house and our lives; he was too big, too powerful for us to change his set course, and we all knew it.
"So, I see a lovely house now, a happy family... two children, mother, father. Very nice. How are you two getting along? Has your relationship held up well?"
"I'd say so." I said, following after him as he looked through our ground floor.
"Me too." Joyce said. "I love being a housewife and taking care of my children. I have enough free time to do some nice math as well. I've had a couple of papers published, one of them has picked up a lot of citations."
He sat in our living room and we talked for some hours, he smiled at the baby photos and
played with the child he'd fathered. It was strange to see him this way; he wasn't an omnipotent financier, he was just an old man, a father who had never known his own child.
As little Amy fell asleep in his arms, he got to business.
"Rick, I know you've been trying hard, but your paper still lost three million dollars last year."
We discussed the details for a while; they aren't important to this story.
"I can't justify keeping you afloat much longer." He said, "It's a bit hard to explain to the board."
"So you're going to shut us down?" I asked, deflated. "Just when I've got sales on the rise?"
"Well, I could give you another five years to get it into the black. If..."
He looked at me piercingly, then shifted his gaze to Joyce.
"Amy is a wonderful child." He said, "I've listed her on a scholarship trust fund I started a while back. If she gets accepted to one of the top ten universities, tuition is covered."
"That's good to know." I said.
"Another five years." He said again; "In return, I want another child with Joyce."
I looked at my wife; she just stared at me wide eyed. That same blank poker faced look I'd seen the first time he proposed his little deal, that look that meant nothing, but really meant everything.
"I'll just step into the other room and make a call while you two discuss it." He said, easing our sleeping child onto the sofa as he stood up.
"What should we do?" I asked.
"Have another baby." She answered. "We sort of wanted one anyway, so why not?"
"But I wanted it to be my baby."
"It will be your baby. Isn't Amy your baby? Don't you love her as much as Sam?"
"Yes, of course I do."
"So what's the problem then? You aren't uptight about the sex are you?"
"I was never really comfortable with that."
"Well you'd better get used to the idea then."
What else could we do? If I lost my job, we'd have to sell our house and move to the city. And of course, nearly everyone we knew was employed at the paper. It was more than a job, it was a community.
We had a responsibility to do what we could; all my wife had to do was let him fuck her a few times, and we
Could keep everything floating along.
He came back to the living room, and we told him our decision.
"Do you know when you'll be menstruating?" he asked her.
"In a week or so." She answered.
He stood, took Joyce's hand, and kissed it gallantly. "I'll be counting the hours." He said.
She stepped closer to him; she reached up and put her arms around his neck, he put his hands on her narrow hips. They kissed, lips and tongues, bodies held close, their passion for each other nearly palpable. Their passion had an odd simplicity; it was sexual in the purest sense. They didn't want to live together or know more about each other, they just wanted to have sex to make a baby. They wanted to mate, each respecting the reproductive fitness of the other.
"You're welcome to stay." She told him.
He hesitated; "I should get back to town. I have a plane waiting."
"Let it wait." She suggested.
In response, he lifted her off of her feet, he kissed her again, deeper, harder. He lifted her teeshirt from her, he began to fumble with her bra.
"You have big breasts now." He observed.
"Suck them." She whispered, ignoring my presence in the room.
The old man held her, his big hands under her ass, her legs wrapped around his waist and she arched backwards as he lowered his face to her pale breast. He sucked one nipple, then the other; she laughed in glee, clamping herself to him.
"Where's your bedroom?" he asked.
"Upstairs." She told him.
He set her down, and they started up the stairs, holding hands. Joyce stopped for a moment, turning to look back at me; I was just standing there in our living room, waiting for feeling to return to my legs.
"Put Amy to bed and then come join us." she said with a grin, as if it was all about nothing.
By the time I got to the bedroom, my wife and her wealthy lover were undressed, legs entwined, kissing on our bed.
The years and two children had left their mark on Joyce's young body; she was now 29 years old, with a more generous rear and larger breasts about the size of small grapefruits. They hung slightly, but were full with enormous nipples. Her hair was as ever, that angelic orange. Her skin was still smooth and pale, and her belly was fairly flat, the stretch marks the proud trophies of her childbearing.
Her lover, on the other hand, was definitely looking the worse for wear; his age had caught up with him now. His hair was very thin, and white. His belly had grown significantly, and he had bags under his tired eyes that weren't there before.
I watched them for a minute, standing alone in the doorway. I could understand she wanted him as a sire for our baby; he was a self made billionaire, he'd been born in utter poverty. He was still essentially fit at sixty eight years old; what man could be better breeding material? But I didn't understand why she was so into having sex with him. He just wasn't very attractive physically.
He pushed her onto her back, then spread her knees so that her soft middle was open and vulnerable.
"Look at her, Rick; her long red hair, her smooth skin, her big breasts. She's a perfect mother, nurturing and loving. She does higher math just for fun, yet she likes to keep your house and care for our kids."
His big hand stroked over her naked body.
"Just now, she told me that she's never been with another man since she met you, except me of course. Do you love her as much as she deserves, Rick?"
I looked at her, shivering at his touch, waiting to mate with him, eager for his old dick to slide into her pale frame. She had his organ in her hand, she was pulling on it gently but emphatically.
"Does it hurt you to see me make love with her?"
He smiled; "But you've had her all to yourself for all these years. Surely you don't mind sharing her a couple of times with your benefactor."
He lifted his bulk over her, he kissed her, his knee pushing against her groin.
He rolled back again, and stroked her open crotch. "Do you give her head when you make love?" he asked.
"Sure." I said.
"Show me. Come on, man, pleasure your lovely wife. You owe her everything you have, don't you? So then. Put your face between her thighs."
Joyce looked at me expectantly; she looked so edible, so tender, so tasty.
He was right, of course. Although I was the boss at the paper now, the editor in chief, a respected man in our little town, it was all fake. My position was entirely due to Joyce and Him, my true job was cuckold, playing father to another man's child. That was what I was really paid to do.
I crawled onto the bed and did as he told me.
As I licked her, they kissed; after a while, they twisted around, and she sucked his cock as I licked her clit.
"Move aside, Rick." He said at last. "I'm going to have sex with your wife now. Sit back and watch, watch closely; see how much she likes it."
As he spoke, he took my place between her legs. He held his powerful old cock in his hand and pushed it into her wet waiting tunnel. Joyce arched her back and pushed back, her younger body sucking the big man's organ into herself with a happy sigh.
I just stepped back and watched in painful humility.
We'd been happy the last 5 years. We had fun together, we laughed at each others jokes, we had good sex. But somewhere underneath all that, this was always present; the knowledge of Him, the awareness that she would have sex with him anytime he wanted her to, that she would accept his sperm and carry his baby not only for the material gain it brought, but because she wanted to. Because she wanted him, his time, his approval, his attention, and his genetic material. She wanted his kiss, his cock, and my suffering was included in the deal. My humility was part of their foreplay, it turned them both on as much as the potential for procreation did.
He pushed her knee onto the mattress, so I could see where his cock was clamped by her wet vaginal lips, and he began to pump her that way, his bulk rising and falling over her small frame, his billionaire cock ruling her.
"One of the things that I find so special about Joyce is the way she sees me; not as an overweight old man, but as a powerful and attractive man. Am I right Joyce?"
"Of course! Powerful and sexy."
"You want to have my baby, again?"
"Now that's sexy to me. Very Very Sexy!"
With each word he spoke, he drove his big cock home for emphasis, bouncing the mother of my child, and his, below him.
"Are you going to come, my lovely?" He asked her, "Will you come for your daddy?"
"Oh yes! I will if you just... if you just... Ahhh..."
I sat on the edge of the bed as she climaxed in his arms, pinned below his expensive expansive bulk.
He pulled out of her and held his cock to her lips. She opened wide and took him into her mouth, sucking happily at his pleasure. His cock was perfectly rigid, the shaft quivering in her mouth, on the delicious edge of climax.
"Ah, that's good." He said, kneeling over her face, "Do you ever have anal sex, Rick?"
"You should try it, it's great. What about you, Joyce? Anal sex?"
She stopped sucking for a moment. "I haven't done that for years, since before Rick and I were together." She said. It was the first I'd heard of it.
"Honey, there's some Vaseline in the medicine cabinet." She added.
I got the jelly and came back into the bedroom, where Joyce was still working the rich man's cock with her mouth, stroking his big loose balls with her hand.
"Don't just stand there, man! Grease yourself up." He insisted.
Joyce lifted herself onto her hands and knees, her knees splayed out, her rear end open in invitation.
Well, I was pretty horny; watching her with him always did that to me, despite the pain and jealousy that was always there as well. And Janet wasn't there this time to administer her efficient blowjob. And I'd always wanted to try it...
Her ass was tight as a fist around my dick as I pushed it into her. She kept sucking his cock while I reamed her, I fingered her clit at the same time, and she started to come again.
He held her head in his hands, sliding his dick in and out of her mouth. I avoided looking at him, I closed my eyes and reached forward and around to fondle Joyce's generous breast. She was shaking and moaning, clenching my cock in spasms of her ass; I came.
Soon afterwards, the tycoon squirted into her mouth. My wife rolled over onto the mattress, exhausted.
"Get packed Rick." He said, stepping off the bed, "You'll have to spend the next week with me."
"So I can be sure that you don't make Joyce pregnant, but I do. She has to take care of the kids, otherwise she could just spend a few weeks with me like last time. Quick now, my plane is waiting for us."
We flew to New York, and then to London, then by helicopter to his estate. We had a lot of time to talk; it was a privilege to have that much of his time nearly to myself [he was on the phone a lot, and there was a flunky or two around].
"Janet doesn't work for you anymore?" I asked him.
"Janet? No. he's gone back to being Gene now. Has a wife and a child on the way."
"Just an experimental phase he told me. Too bad, he made a great girl; multitalented one could say."
"Do you know what a cuckoo is, Rick?"
"A stupid person. A type of Swiss clock."
"A cuckoo is a large black tropical bird. It lays its egg in the nest of a crow, among the crow's eggs. The cuckoo hatches first, eats more, and grows faster than the crow chicks. The parent crows feed it diligently, unaware that they've been fooled. Or, if you prefer, cuckolded. Of course, what I'm doing with you is slightly different, you know you're nurturing my offspring."
"I love her like my own."
"I know that Rick, and I appreciate it."
His wife was a few years older than mine, a few years younger than myself. She seemed surprised that he was home at all.
She was a remarkable woman; I'd never been in the presence of someone so gorgeous. It was very difficult to not simply stare at her continuously.
She was tall, at least 5'10". She was thin, yet shapely; she had long auburn hair and longer legs.
Her face was stunning from every angle; every expression was a new delight, a new vision of beauty. Yet she seemed sad; her life wasn't a very happy one.
We had dinner together, but my boss was gone before breakfast the next morning.
"Make yourself at home, I'll be back for you in a few days. We'll travel back to the states together." He'd said.
I guess I made myself more at home than he might have intended; I slept with his wife.
She was hungry for company, and I had little to do. She told me all the anguish of her life, and we became intimate.
It somehow doesn't have much to do with my story, except to add a small touch of poetic justice. She was into appearances, and I was still a good looking guy; powerless, [relatively] young, and handsome. The opposite of her husband. I fantasized of making her pregnant, and did my level best; blasting my sperm repeatedly up her middle, as she clamped me between her long shapely legs. It's a rare privilege to make love with a [former] supermodel, but it was a bit spoiled by fact was that I love my wife.
He phoned me from New York;
"I'm going to leave you with my wife while I'm with yours." he announced. "I like you Rick, and I don't mind. Hell, I'd have divorced her years ago except it would cost me too much. She isn't too bright you know, but she did get one over on me; she's not fertile."
He laughed, as if that was something really very funny.
The tall beautiful woman seemed to loose her allure; we slept together anyway. We chatted, kissed, made love, and enjoyed our artificial relationship, passing our lonely hours together.
Her husband sent his jet to take me home, after he was sure my wife was pregnant with his child. I never saw either of them again.
After his suicide, it was revealed that the whole empire was built on massive debt.
He had plundered the pension funds; my newspaper was closed immediately, and we had little to fall back on.
We had to move to the city. I keep the house now, and take care of the three children. Joyce, with her PhD and published math papers, got a high paying position with an international bank.
The only resources that seem to be entirely intact, and cunningly protected from all creditors, was a massive scholarship fund. The beneficiaries are 97 children of varying ages; as well as 26 older kids that have already been paid through school. It wasn't hard for me to discover that all of these children have a parent who had been promoted to a top position by the big man personally, mostly in loss making divisions that just kept making losses until the whole corporation went under.
They say he was a loser, he was never the success everyone had thought he was.
But I say they're wrong. Altogether, I believe he fathered no less than 134 children with 75 different women. Isn't that the true meaning of Success?
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