by Anne Kyle
I stepped out of it and kicked my shoes off. I reached for the button of his jeans and opened it. I pulled down the zipper, and his pants fell down to his ankles. He kicked them aside and pulled his bare feet out of his shoes. The black boxer briefs he was wearing barely contained his massive hard-on. I rubbed it with my open palm while he undid the clasp on the front of my bra. I shrugged my arms out of it, and it flowed down my back to the floor.
“My God,” he said in a husky, almost reverent way. “These are the most beautiful breasts I’ve ever seen.”
I practically panted, “They’re all yours. Why don’t you take a closer look?”
He held the swells in his hands, then leaned his head down and lightly ran his tongue over one pebble-hard nipple. I placed my hand behind his head and pulled him forward as he took the tiny bud into his mouth. I threw my head back and whimpered as the pleasure shot through my body and settled in my clit. I could feel the liquid heat spread across my pussy and couldn’t wait to have him deep inside me.
Alex moved his hands from my chest down to the edge of my undies and they dropped to the floor. I grabbed his boxer briefs and lowered them. His hard cock sprung out and pointed straight up. We fell onto the bed, and I climbed on top of him. I straddled him and rubbed my soaking clit up and down his hard shaft. We both released a sound that was pure ecstasy.
Our kissing was approaching that frenzied stage again. I continued grinding against him and leaned up so he could put his lips to my nipples. He licked one while pinching the other, and kept going back and forth between them. That sensation joined the tingling that rubbing my clit over his cock gave me, and I thought that I was going to lose my mind. I could feel an intense orgasm building.
“Will you please let me make love with you?” he said, almost begging.
His need and our mutual desire had me on fire. I said the only thing I could stammer out: “Oh, hell yes!”
He opened the drawer of his bedside table, pulled out a box of condoms, and said, “I bought a new box. The other one was two years old, and I didn’t want to take any chances.”
I rolled off of him and lay back on the pillows against the headboard. I could feel our heat like it was a cloud around us. I spread my legs, opening myself to him. He rested on his knees between my thighs and tore the top off of the foil package.
“Please allow me,” I told him as I took the condom from his hand and pulled it out of the foil. I placed it over the swollen head and slowly rolled it down, to his obvious delight.
Alex leaned forward and rested his full weight on his hands, which he placed on either side of me. “Put me inside you.”
I raised my hips a little and placed the tip of his cock against my slippery opening. I released him, and he slid into me very slowly. We erupted in a symphony of moans, and I dug my fingers into his back. He pushed further into me, and I could feel the tip of his dick brush my G-spot.
“You’re so fucking hot. I don’t know how long I can last.”
“Don’t hold back; let yourself go,” I said between gasps.
“I’m not coming without you.”
Then he did something no man has ever done while we were having sex. He took his hand and reached between us. He was thrusting into me, and every deep thrust was better than the last. Then, with the thumb of his hand he quickly began rubbing my clit back and forth. I cried out—I just couldn’t help it.
I looked up into Alex’s face, and we shared a gaze of pure joy. “You’re going to make me come,” I practically shouted.
He increased the speed of his thumb on my clit and started plunging into me faster and faster. I could see the ripple of his bicep while his hand shimmied between us. We locked eyes and both knew that each of us was close to climaxing. With one deep, final stroke, we both came with a thunderous cry.
Alex released the weight from his arms and lowered himself until his head was resting next to mine. I hugged his back tightly while we both panted like thirsty animals.
“Wow,” Alex whispered into my ear.
“Whew,” was all I could reply.
Alex raised himself up, and with a look of serious reluctance, gently pulled himself out of me and rolled over so we were shoulder to shoulder. He took the condom off and threw it in the wastebasket next to the bed. He placed his hand on my thigh, and I placed my hand on top of his. Our fingers twined, and we turned our heads to face each other. We smiled and started laughing. The laughter was almost as good a release as our orgasms had been. Almost.
When our laughter died down, I said, “This is probably the best start of a date I’ve ever had. It’s also a helluva way to work up an appetite.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” he replied. “Would you like to take a quick shower? The car should be here in about thirty minutes.”
“I think I better,” I told him. “If I don’t, I may never cool down.”
“There are clean towels on the shelf. I’ll go make us a couple of drinks,” he said leaning down to give me a sweet, light kiss. He got out of bed, and I watched the muscles of his taut ass bounce out of the room.
I showered quickly, careful not to get my hair wet. I dressed and fixed my makeup and walked to the kitchen to find a still naked Alex putting the finishing touches on a couple of vodka tonics.
“That was fast. I thought women took forever in the bathroom,” he said and handed me my drink.
“Not this one,” I told him. “Life’s too short to waste it by looking at myself in the mirror.”
“I couldn’t agree more. But I can’t say it’s a waste to spend as much time as I possibly can looking at you.” He kissed the top of my head as he walked past and told me he would just be a minute. I sat down at the butcher’s block and looked around the kitchen. All of the hardly-used, expensive gadgets and cookware now made a little more sense after my Google search. It was time for some talking. I hope it didn’t turn into a big deal.
I was about halfway through my drink when Alex came back into the kitchen. He was wearing khakis and a black Polo shirt that clung to his body nicely. On his feet was a pair of expensive light brown loafers. He took a seat across from me and had a large swallow of his drink.
“So, now that we have that out of the way, why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?” Alex said, smiling and taking another sip of his drink.
“I’m a Gemini,” I told him with a straight face. “I like walking in the rain, kittens and homegrown tomatoes.”
His eyes smiled at me when he said, “You had me at kittens.”
Alex took my hand in his, and I looked deep into his gorgeous blue eyes and asked him point-blank, “Are you rich? I don’t mean just kinda rich. I’m talking ‘I just bought an island.’”
He glanced down at his drink and said, “What if I told you I was?”
“That’s why I asked you, so you would tell me,” I said, like I was talking to a child.
“It’s not like it’s any great secret, so, yes, I’m pretty rich,” he told me with what seemed like remorse. “I wasn’t keeping anything from you. I knew it was going to come up, and I was looking forward to telling you. I don’t know if you noticed, but there hasn’t been much of an opportunity for full financial disclosure. I didn’t think that shouting out, ‘I have an outstanding portfolio’ in the middle of making love would be very romantic.”
He had a point. We’d been so busy with the physical stuff that there hadn’t been time for any deep personal exchange of information. No time like the present. “You’re right, Alex,” I said, placing my hand on top of his. “For the record though, after what we just did, I can say that you do have an outstanding portfolio.”
He laughed, “So you enjoyed going over my holdings?”
“You give great dividends, that’s for sure,” I said, leaning forward to kiss him.
He looked out of the window as a car pulled up. “There’s our ride. If you’re still interested in going, I mean. We can talk more in the car. Then some more at dinner Hell, we can talk
all night if you want to.”
“Of course I still want to go. I don’t want to give you the impression that I think less of you just because you’re rich. I’m no snob.”
We got our things and went out to the car. It was a large, black Town Car, and when we got there, the driver’s-side door opened. A big man got out. His skin was the color of polished mahogany. He wore a dark suit and a chauffeur’s cap. Alex immediately burst out laughing while shaking his head.
“Charlie, how many times have I told you that you don’t have to wear the hat? It’s bad enough that you’re dressed for a funeral, but come on, man,” Alex as Charlie came to the passenger side of the car.
“Mr. Westfield, if you act the part, you have to look the part,” Charlie said in a deep baritone.
Alex replied, “And please don’t start with the Mr. Westfield stuff. I told you to call me Alex.” They both grinned and shook hands like old friends. Alex turned his attention to me, “This is my friend, Kat. She’s been nice enough to agree to have dinner with me.”
Charlie’s hand swallowed mine and he said, “Aren’t you the lucky man, Alex. And you’re a lucky lady, ma'am.”
“Thank you, Charlie, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He opened the door and motioned me inside. I slid into the backseat and settled in on the driver’s side. Alex climbed in next to me, and we put on our seatbelts while Charlie got behind the wheel.
It was a lot bigger inside than I thought it would be. I could stick my legs straight out and barely touch the back of the front seat. There was a small bar next to Alex’s leg, and a bucket full of ice. I could also see that there was a partition that could be raised to block the view from the front seat.
Charlie turned his head toward us and started the car. “Okay folks, you should have everything you need back there. If I can help, just use the intercom. I think you two could use some privacy, though, so I’ll just roll up the partition until we reach our destination. Thank you for flying Charlie Airlines.”
“You’re the best, Charlie,” Alex said, as the black glass went up and sealed us in the back.
“He seems really nice. Have you known him long?” I asked.
“A couple of years,” Alex said. “Whenever I know I’m going to be drinking I call him. It’s too easy to get a DUI these days, so I just play it safe. Would you like a drink?”
I told him I would very much like a drink as the car pulled away from his house. About five houses down, we passed a car that I thought I had seen before. It was a blue Ford Focus with faded patches of paint and a dent in the front left panel. I didn’t think anything about it at the time or feel the need to mention it to Alex. In hindsight, I wished I had said something.
Alex handed me my drink, turned in his seat, and said, “So, here we are, what would you like to know?”
“I Googled you today, so I know the broad facts. Your family started WestCorp about sixty years ago. Since then, it has become one of the largest multinationals trading on the market. Their holdings are diverse and span several industries. Mainly manufacturing, with a growing concern in the technology market. The stock is steady, and even major fluctuations in the market don’t significantly affect its value. Your turn.”
“I had almost forgotten that you’re an accountant,” he said, laughing. “I grew up with money. By most standards, a lot of money. I went to the best boarding school in the country, then moved on to Harvard. I barely got in with my grades, but my folks gave a hefty endowment, and we both know how money talks in those situations. I had the same roommate all four years, James Robertson. But everyone called him Robo. He’s insanely smart and a computer genius. When he wasn’t acing his classes, he spent all of his time writing computer code. I think I was the only one who wanted to be his friend.
He didn’t have much in the way of social skills, but we shared the same sort of sense of humor. Anyway, our senior year, my grandfather passed away.”
I squeezed his hand, “I’m sorry, were you close?”
He took a sip of his drink and waved his hand. “Not really. My family isn’t what you would call close. Money can solve a lot of problems, but it can also generate some weird feelings. So, Grandpa died and he left me some money. In the grand scheme of things, not a bunch of money—and I already had money in a trust fund but there were an impressive number of zeroes.
I tell this to Robo, and he asks me if I can keep a secret. Of course, I say yes. He tells me that he has programmed some information tracking and data retrieval software that’s better than anything on the market. I say that’s great, big deal. Let’s go get a beer. Then he starts talking about beta testing and patents and a bunch of other shit that I don’t understand. He tells me how much money it would take to develop. It’s less than my inheritance, so I tell him to make it happen.
My parents weren’t thrilled with the idea, but since I was using my money and not family money, there wasn’t anything they could do. We graduate, and I give Robo the money. He goes out to Silicon Valley and just blows the place up. He’s one of the few people who doesn’t have to chase after venture capitalists, because he has me.
Long story short, about three years ago, he calls me and says he has a name for our company. I say, ‘company, what company is that?’ Alrotech, he tells me. I can see by your reaction you’ve heard of it.”
“Uh, yeah I’ve heard of it,” I tell him with an amazed expression. “At the time it had the largest IPO in history. Its stock is still climbing. Are you telling me that you have stock in Alrotech?”
Alex freshened our drinks and continued. “Robo and I have all but nine shares. He’s the majority shareholder, with fifty-one, and I have forty. The rest we split with nine people who do everything Robo doesn’t want to do. And since there isn’t anything I can do in that field, I just stay out of the way. In fact, I have to go out there tomorrow to sign some papers. I leave in the morning and come back the next day.”
There wasn’t anything in my search of Alex about any of this. He took the term “silent partner” to a whole new level. I just thought that his family money was huge, but the amount he was talking about— with that company alone—was staggering. Like, as much, if not more, money than some small countries. It was a lot to take in.
I looked out of the window as we got off of the bridge that connects Mt. Pleasant to the peninsula that is Charleston. It’s an astounding view of Charleston Harbor and a great way to count the many church steeples that rise from the city.
I looked at Alex and said, “I’m a little overwhelmed here. I knew that you had crazy money, but this is ridiculous.”
“I know I’m throwing a lot at you,” he told me. “I’m still the same guy I was last night. I’m the same person you made love with a little while ago; it just so happens that I have a lot of money. That’s why I came down here and opened the restaurant. So I could feel like I’m doing something worthwhile.”
“That’s admirable; I can see why you would want to keep that under wraps.”
“It’s just easier dealing with people if they don’t know my net worth,” he told me. “There are some people who have to know—my attorney, my banker, those kinds of people. Some suspect that there’s more going on, like Jerry. And now there’s you.”
“Thank you for being so honest,” I said, looking hard into his eyes. “I guess that means we don’t have to split the bill tonight.”
We shared a laugh, clinked glasses, and settled into one of our comfortable silences. He reached over and took my hand in his, our fingers locked together as we sipped our drinks.
“Hey,” Alex said out of nowhere, “Why don’t you come to California with me? Like I said, it’s just a day trip.”
I gave his hand a light squeeze and said, “I would love to, but there are some things I need to tell you, and one of them is why I can’t go with you tomorrow, as much as I would like to.”
“That sounds a bit ominous. We’re almost to the restaurant though, so unless it’s absolutely necess
ary, can we wait until after we eat?”
“No problem. Believe me, the last thing I want to do is spoil our time together.”
We were on the road that leads to Folly Beach. It’s the more laid-back beach option in the Charleston area. We turned down the small road and headed to the tip of the thirteen-acre island where the restaurant is located. We could see the pristine marsh on either side of the road. It was low tide and the tangy smell of pluff mud filled the air. You could also smell the salty sea air that blew in from the ocean barely a half-mile away.
Alex and I held hands and marveled at the natural beauty surrounding us as the car rolled down the bumpy road. We passed several large private homes that housed the lucky few who lived on the island. Charlie pulled the car into the parking area, shut off the engine, and rolled down the dark partition.
“Here we are,” Charlie said, “Bowens Island restaurant. Founded in 1946 by the Bowens and run by their grandson Mr. Robert Barber. You kids go have a good time, and don’t rush. I’ll be right here when you’re done.”
“Charlie,” Alex said through a chuckle, “You must think that I’m a heartless bastard. There’s no way we’re going to let you sit out here while we stuff ourselves stupid on oysters. Come inside with us and get a table, dinner is on me.”
Without missing a beat, Charlie replied, “I was hoping you were going to say that.” He got out of the car and opened my door for me.
Alex got out on his side and looked over the roof of the car at Charlie, “That didn’t take much convincing.”
“Never turn down oysters, especially if they’re free,” Charlie told him as he helped me out of the car. “That’s one of the many things my Mama taught me.”
We crunched our way to the door and went inside. Graffiti covered several walls, and tables filled the dining room. About half of the tables were full, and the salty smell of roasted oysters wrapped itself around us. The sound of oyster knives cracking shells open was followed by the chunk of those shells being thrown into trash cans that were underneath a hole cut into the middle of the table. It was a welcome, happy sound.