That was the best feeling ever, a high that not even cocaine could beat. I fucked the life out of her virgin pussy, and although she wanted to go after the first time, I kept her locked in place and fucked her twice more. I had the stamina of an elephant, you can say. The floor was a bit bloody when she left, and although it was gross, I derived a certain sick pleasure from it. It boosted my ego and made me feel even more masculine and hunky. I had just taken a girl’s virginity. That was the high that I began chasing after that.
I did not do commitments back then, and the word got out that I had a monster cock after the swimming competition, so there was plenty of virgin pussy for me. I was charming and the girls were willing. I admit to being an asshole to them, luring the ones I want in, fucking them, taking their virginities, and dumping them the next day. You do not get to take many virginities, so whenever I had the chance, I made sure to take their virginity from the front and the back. Two virginities with one cock.
And that was something I had secretly been desiring since I had started dating Natalia. But then my friend told me about a whorehouse where girls sell their virginities. It was sort of a ‘thing’ where all the rich guys went.
The girls would line up and you could bid on the one you want. The girls stood naked behind a one-way glass, so we could see them and they could not see us. That is when it began, and before I knew it, I was addicted again.
Whenever Natalia was out of town, I was at the whorehouse bidding on virgins. It was a win-win situation, Natalia could spend nights shopping in Milan and Paris, and I could spend nights fucking virgins in every hole, over and over, from night till sunrise.
Chapter 4: The Good News and The Bad News
Today, when I went home after work, my wife was in a very pleasant mood. She has a good humour about her all the time, that is one of the reasons I love her so much, but tonight she was extra chirpy. One look at her and I knew what was up.
I was sitting in the TV room upstairs, my favorite place to watch TV; this is one of the most spacious rooms in the house, with only glass for walls, and you can see all the lights and the trees outside. It is very Zen, too, and is an excellent sun room during daytime.
So, I was reclining on the sofa, one that you almost sink into, with a can of beer in my hand. I was watching soccer when my wife came in. She was wearing this long skirt, a sheer and shimmering shirt over her Victoria’s Secret brassiere. She walked in, turned off the TV, and stood right in front of it, hands folded.
“Babe, I have some delighting news for you,” she said with a smile spreading to her ears.
“Really? What is it?” I said, I sort of knew already. She had gotten a boob job, a breast augmentation, whatever you call it. I could tell, her already huge rack was hanging, almost bursting out of the brassiere.
“What do you think it is?” She asked me.
“I have no idea what it is,” I said. I knew what it was, like I said, but I know my wife too. She was going to get upset if I told her, so I had to keep my trap shut.
“Notice anything different,” she said, swinging left and right, giving me a nice view of her new rack. The Falcon was getting ready for a flight. I could feel it stir in my boxers.
“You look more beautiful, but than you keep getting more beautiful every day,” I said.
She walked to me slowly, a slow version of catwalk, and sat on my lap. God, her hot little ass was right on the Falcon, crushing it, exciting it. Then she leaned in close to me, very unlike her, she never leans in close to whisper things. Anyway, she leaned in close and whispered the good news in my ear.
“We are pregnant!” she whispered sexily. Oh god, she could turn you on even when giving you the greatest news of your life.
“We are?” I said, unable to believe.
“We are,” she said, with a finger under my chin, slowly bringing my mouth to hers, kissing me.
Then she reached into a purse and showed me the first ultrasound.
“Oh baby, I love you so much. You have just made me the happiest man on the planet,” I told her. She really had given me a good news. Not just a good news, this was probably the best news! An heir to the Thompson fortune was on its way!
While she was still on my lap, I pushed her purse away, and flipped her. Now she was sinking into the sofa as I got on top of her. I started kissing her on the side of her neck, below her chin, making my way down to those huge tits of hers.
I undid her bra with my mouth and had her naked in an instant. Now I could not straddle her, given she was pregnant, but I had to make the most of those titties while I had them. I straddled the sofa, my legs on the armrests, and my crotch on level with her mouth. She undid my zipper and released the Falcon. It jumped out and almost pounced at her.
She grabbed it with both her hands, massaging it slowly, and then took the tip in her mouth. Then I got the bad news, she could not take all of it in her mouth. She was slightly queasy. She turned me on enough though and I could not stop.
I pushed the back of the sofa down so Natalia could lie down, and with my legs still on the armrests, the Falcon landed between her breasts. With all the excitement of the good news I had just received, blood was rushing all through my body and my cock was swollen to 9 inches probably.
I pushed her breasts in, trapping my cock in, and thrusted slowly. Then I got off, threw my coat and shirt away, took my pants off and got in my birthday suit. I got the lotion from the cabinet and put it on the table. I could not resist her enlarged breasts. I sucked her tits, kissed them, fingered her cunt, I was losing control.
But she being fragile and I had to make sure she wasn’t getting hurt. I put some lotion on my hands and massaged her breasts and neck slowly. Then I lubed up my cock, pressed it between her breasts, and fucked those bad boys slowly. When I was about to come, I pushed my cock in her mouth. I loved it when she ate my cum; this time, she pushed away.
Over the next few days, we had less and less sex. She was either tired, or sick or queasy or nauseous, or not in the mood, or sleeping. That was the bad news. We could not have much sex for the next few months, and certainly not in the way we were accustomed to. She was a wild lioness in bed, and she knew well how to ride the Falcon. That was the bad news, less sex. Whatever sex we had in the next few days was not up to the mark, and, quite frankly, was quite disappointing.
Chapter 5: A Surprise Call
Now, let me tell you about my children. My step children, I mean. My step son, James, is about thirteen years old. He was quite young when I married Natalia, is a darling little boy, and quickly got used to calling me dad.
Another reason for that is because his own father is an actor who spends half his time in Hollywood and the other half in rehabilitation centers. He is somewhat spoilt but there is not much that a thirteen year old can ask for, and since he is mostly very well behaved, I like him.
Natalia’s daughter, however, is another story. She was not so young when Natalia and I tied the knot, calls me Blake, and is ever the spoiled brat. She probably chose not to stay with her father because of the money. She already came from a rich family, not as rich as me but still rich, and was already very spoilt.
In the beginning, I let her do what she wanted, I let her get away with things, and even bought her whatever she wanted. I wanted to please Natalia. But, later on, I realized, Kendal, for that is her name, was a super bitch.
There were occasional, or rather regular, complaints from her school. She was a total bitch, often got caught doing drugs, if not by teachers than by police. For a family like ours, this is a problem. It is bad publicity.
From the outsets of it, we do look like a perfect little family. We have even graced the covers of several magazines, including both business and fashion ones, and sometimes there are little stories on her little transgressions. I have tried talking to her, and so has Natalia, but the bitch just won’t listen. I have been wanting to teach her a lesson but Kendal knows where she stands.
If she ends up in jail, she knows we
will get her out. Again, we have the contacts so all we have to do is make a few calls and she’s out. She takes good advantage of it.
Now, you already know about the whorehouse I frequent. It only caters to the richest men, the millionaires and the billionaires. Mostly the billionaires only because they pay well. How this particular whorehouse works is a bit different.
They do not have prostitutes and are not in business daily, weekly, or even monthly. The girls they allow to present themselves there, up for bidding, need to apply first.
The first thing that happens is that the Madame of the whorehouse sees if they are beautiful. They do not accept average or even above average girls. They accept the best ones only. Once a girl is accepted, she has to go through several tests.
The Madame personally ensures that all the girls presented are virgin. A virginity test is conducted initially, and after that they are all checked for sexually transmitted diseases and all to make sure they are all disease free. Once that is done and all things are settled, the Madame makes a call to her clients to let them know about the bidding.
While I said I frequent the whorehouse, what I mean is I go whenever the Madame calls, but the calls are not very frequent. If someone has special requests, the whorehouse does cater to those for some extra bucks. The whorehouse is situated in a building that used to be a 5-star hotel.
Now, they have upgraded it to a 7-star hotel. In the basement of the hotel is where the bidding war takes place. On the top floor of the hotel, the 50th floor, is where all the luxurious rooms are. Those rooms are not available to the general public though, only the ones who win a virgin get to go there.
Since a lot of people make special requests, the rooms are adjusted to suit their needs, and whatever equipment may be needed is also provided. All rooms, by default, contain the basics, including the lubricants, condoms of all sizes, both for men and women, numbing creams, delaying creams, even the morning after pills, etc.
The whorehouse really does ensure that all the basic needs are met and that all their clients leave satisfied, because who wants to lose a billionaire client? No one! The rooms are also available in all settings, and you can choose whether you want a living room, a bed room, an office, or whatever else to have the night of your dreams or to live out your fantasy.
It was when I was in a boring meeting of the board, going through report after report, exhausted to death, and hard as hell when it happened. I was a bit extra down that day, because normally, after a day like this, Natalia is waiting at home to spread her legs for me, but now I know she won’t be. She is less willing to be wild in bed, which is totally understandable.
As I got done looking through the reports, I went home, went to the TV room, had a beer, and crashed in front of the TV. I flicked through the channels, trying to find something interesting, and gave up. I was bored and horny and there was nothing I could do about it. I thought of watching some hardcore porn but the idea did not appeal to me. I was lost in my thoughts of disappointment and lust when I got the call.
Chapter 6: Vegas, Baby
The call came from an unknown number but from a familiar caller.
“Blake Thompson here, hello!” I said.
“Bonjour, it is me, Madame Rosemary,” said a familiar voice in her French accented tone. I was instantly delighted, I knew what this meant, I was finally going to get some tonight.
“Hello Mary,” I replied. Mary was strictly business so there was never any small talk.
“We have got new girls for you,” she said.
“When is it happening,” I asked.
“It is happening tonight, in Las Vegas. The bidding will begin in three hours.” Then she hung up.
“I will definitely be there,” I whispered into the dead phone.
I went to check on Natalia, who was fast asleep. James was also already in bed, and Kendal was out on a college trip. I was good to go. I called in the helicopter guy but he was off duty, so I called the pilot. I don’t fly commercial.
He came in about twenty minutes and took another 40 minutes to get the plane ready. I have three airplanes, by the way. One is a Boeing 747 jet, another a 777 jet, and a Learjet 85 - Bombardier. All three of them are fully customized, and the former two even have bedrooms and offices in them. The Learjet, however, is the one I use for business related travelling most of the time. It is fast, small, and my favorite for no reason at all.
Once the pilot, Martin, called me to tell me that the plane was ready, I got in my driverless Mercedes and made for the runway. I keep the driverless Mercedes for on-estate driving only, it has been fully customised and knows all the ways of the estate.
It stopped at the runway, I got off it, and then it drove itself back to the garage. It was a short 5 minute drive anyway. Then I walked the runway and boarded the plane. There are 8 super comfortable recliners in the plane, 4 on one side and 4 opposite them so they are all facing each other. All the seats are fixed on a sliding belt so they can be pushed closer and even rotated.
Once, when Natalia took the Boeing and the other plane was down for maintenance, I had to fly transatlantic on this little bird, and I could not sleep at all, and that was when I realized the seats need to be able to slide so that they can be pushed together to make something as close to bed as possible.
I did not call in any of the other staff, I did not want anyone to wait on me during the flight, so it was just Martin, another pilot - a new guy whose name I can’t remember, and me. I got in, sat back in the recliner, and waited for Martin to come back for permission, which he soon did.
“Sir, everything is ready and we are all set to fly.” He said, as I poured myself some Scotch Whiskey that was already on the table.
“Ah, okay,” I said, “get me some ice, Martin.”
“Yes sir,” he said and brought me some ice from the fridge.
I sat down in my recliner, sipped on my whiskey, and began to scan the headlines on my iPad. Martin just stood there, I noticed, so I looked up with an eyebrow raised.
“Sir, permission to fly?” he said.
“Oh, yeah, sorry, I am a bit preoccupied. Yes, permission granted.”
It was another 5 minutes before the plane even moved. Martin had gotten the plane out on the runway before I arrived. There was almost always a 5 minute delay after my permission. He had to check in and clear with the Air Traffic Control.
While he waited for permission, I looked out the window to see the flaps open and close. Martin, the good pilot that he was, was checking functions and everything. After he got the permission, he announced that the plane was ready to take off and to put on the seatbelt. I never put on the seatbelt, far too uncomfortable. That is one of the reasons I do not fly commercial, they keep asking you to put on seat belts. Before the plane began to move, I pressed the intercom button next to my seat and asked Martin to turn off the cabin lights, which he promptly did.
The engines started, the flaps opened, and the plane began to crawl. Within seconds, the engines roared and the jet picked up speed, and in precisely 87 seconds, the plane took off. I kept looking out the window, at the view below, as the world zoomed out of view. Before we reached the clouds, the plane turned sharply left, and for an instant I could see my sprawling estate.
I lit a cigar and checked out the magazines that had been sent for the flight. Some company or other always sent magazines for free. I found one that particularly intrigued me. On the cover was a girl with a leash around her neck, and in the background was a man with a spanking paddle in hand. “Interesting,” I said. I browsed the magazine for a bit, then laid back and closed my eyes.
I woke up to Martin’s voice announcing we had arrived in Las Vegas. “We will be landing shortly,” he said.
Stepdad Romance: A Lesson From The Man Of The House: (Older Man Younger Woman Romance) Page 2