Read In The Company of Billionaires - Part 1 Online
Authors: Ashley Rivers
Tags: #bdsm, #big black cock, #anal donination, #black apha male
IN THE COMPANY OF BILLIONAIRES
Ashley Rivers
Copyright 2013 Ashley Rivers
Smashwords edition
This ebook is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and
incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are not
to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living
or dead, events or locations is coincidental.
DISCLAIMER:
The material in
this book is for mature audiences only; contains graphic sexual
content and is intended for those over the age of 18+ only.
Part 1
Intro
I felt horny.
Very horny. No – scratch that. I felt lonely. In fact, I felt
downbeat more than lonely. I’d recently committed an offense that
had led to the subsequent dismissal of my person from my
employment. Hence, I was currently jobless, with impending
homelessness not far from the horizon.
I lived in a
studio apartment in SoHo, New York, and it was a place that ate
away a large chunk of the salary that I earned from a school where
I taught kids the tricks of geometry and algebra. Yeah, go ahead
and laugh; Irena Thompson teaching high school Math sounded funny
even to me.
But there I
was, barely a year out of college, and found myself a high school
teacher with no clue about life and what I really wanted to do with
it. It was a gig I did for close to two years, and would end
abruptly, with the school firing me for “unprofessional conduct” –
their term, not mine.
I love fucking,
and I don’t state that lightly, because I really love fucking. When
it comes to pleasing my body in that time-worn method, I observe no
rules, and I know no boundaries. I confess that on occasion I’ve
been with women as fuck partners, but I’m more often inclined to
want a dick inside my pussy than a pussy rubbing against my
pussy.
Right now I
wanted a dick so much I could feel myself creaming my panties just
thinking about it. And God I wanted some intimacy! I wanted to rub
my body against a man’s naked body and feel his hands holding me
strong and hard. I wanted to grab a man’s cock and balls in my hand
and stroke him until he came. I wanted…Shit! I wanted a fuck so bad
I think I was losing my mind.
What’s one to
do?
I think it is
absolutely necessary in a young woman’s life to have friends with
benefits on speed dial. I got one such friend. Named Taraje
Jackson, he is a 26-year-old financial adviser who works for one of
the big Wall Street banks. He lives in a two-bedroom apartment in
the Chelsea district of Manhattan. I decided to call him and asked
only one question when he answered his phone. ‘Where are you?’
‘My place.’
I ended the
call and caught a cab to take me there. In twenty minutes I was
knocking at the door of his apartment. When he opened the door, an
annoyed frown crossed his face.
‘What the fuck
are you doin’ here?’
Not exactly the
enthusiastic response I’d been expecting. ‘I need a fuck.’
‘We are
friends, Rena. Friends don’t just go around fucking each other.
It’s not normal.’
Just for the
record, my name is Irena. Taraje’s omission of the first vowel of
my name is his own choice, and I’ve given up trying to correct him.
As for his moral ground on sexual intercourse with friends, here’s
the fact: Save for the fact that Taraje is a black dude with a
strong athletic body, and I’m a slim – some people might be
inclined to call me thin, but I would dispute that – white chick
with a pert round ass that some girls I know are envious of, we
weren’t that different. Like me, Taraje is an unrepentant sex
addict who during his short existence on earth has fucked more
girls than any man is entitled to in his lifetime.
‘Don’t give me
that bullshit,’ I told him. ‘I want to give you pussy. Don’t tell
me you don’t wanna...’
He sighed and
rolled his eyes. ‘Let’s not forget that I have – not once, but
several times – been inside your pussy. It’s no different from any
pussy that I can get elsewhere.’
‘No,’ I
countered. ‘It’s firmer and tighter and you know it.’
Again he sighed
and gave me a tired look. ‘Rena, what the fuck is up with you?’
‘I’m feeling
down, and I’m lonely. I want to have some company.’
‘Gorgeous girl
like you…Go to any bar and any man will pick you up.’
True, but... ‘I
don’t want any man. I want your cock.’
He laughed.
‘Well, that’s a compliment. Tell me why...’
‘Shit, Taraje,
fuck all this talk, I got some killer weed to roll, and I brought a
bottle of Grand Cuvee. Let’s get blasted.’
He pulled me
inside and closed the door. I led the way to a couch in the living
room and sat down. I beckoned him to come sit next to me. ‘Come
here and let me fuck you like a pro is supposed to.’
He laughed as
he sat down next to me. I zipped open his fly and took his limp
dick in my hand and stroked it. Then I lowered my mouth down to it
and stroked its head with the tip of my tongue. I felt the rush of
blood to his cock as I held it firmly in my hand. In a minute, he
was fully erect. He had a short, stout dick. It appeared even
shorter because he had a forest of hairs covering his balls and
also around the base of his rod.
I covered all
of it with my mouth and sucked him until I heard him groan with
release. I stroked his raw glans with my tongue, licking it like an
ice-cream cone while I kneaded his balls like dough. I heard him
grunt and pulled back in time to see his cum shoot out of his cock.
I rubbed the cum all over his dick and then quickly got up to take
off my clothes.
I climbed onto
him on the couch and shoved his erection into my pussy. Jesus! It
was glorious! I felt my body shiver with the excitement of the cock
inside my pussy and I heard it yell for release, but I fought the
orgasm back with a loud moan. He sighed and pulled me closer. He
took my nipples alternately in his mouth and sucked on my tits. I
bounced up and down on him, taking his whole length inside my hole
and arching my back to rub my clit against his rigid shaft.
His hand left
my tits and grabbed my ass. He caressed my butt while I bounced
myself up and down along his shaft. He traced a finger along the
crack of my ass and then inserted it into my anus. I screamed in
delight and jerked back suddenly as a violent orgasm shook my
body.
I dropped my
head on his chest and sighed. ‘Shit!’
He laughed.
‘Girl, you’re a wild animal.’
I kissed his
neck, slid down his body and took his cock once more inside my
mouth. I stroked him and cleaned his shaft with my mouth. He got up
and picked me up in his arms. He took me to the bedroom and laid me
gently down on the bed. Then he climbed above me and sucked my tits
in turns.
When he plunged
his cock inside me I gasped aloud and closed my eyes as the
excitement ran through my entire body and set me on fire. I floated
to the valleys, swam in the oceans and effortlessly climbed the
Great Wall of China. When I returned to the ground, Taraje was
clinging tightly to my body and climaxing at the same time with
me.
I hold any man
who can cum simultaneously with me in very high esteem. Which
should explain why I have a special place in my heart for my friend
with benefits, Taraje Jackson.
His tremors
over, he rolled off me and sat up. He prepared a weed joint and
after lighting it lay on his back next to me. He took a puff and
blew out a cloud of smoke to the ceiling, saying, ‘So, what the
fuck did you do?’
‘Who said I did
anything?’ I asked innocently, taking the joint from his hand and
placing it between my lips. I took a short pull and the smoke went
into my system and made me float in the air.
‘Girl, come on,
give some credit to my intelligence. I know you as much as I know
myself.’
I took another
drag at the cigarette before responding. ‘I fucked a male
student.’
‘Wow,’ he said
dryly. ‘That's more than crazy. It’s insane.’
‘I know. But he
was energetic and had a huge, delicious dick.’
‘You couldn’t
have known that before fucking him,’ Taraje pointed out wisely.
I gave him a
hurt expression. ‘I’m talking to you as a friend, not a bigot.’
He took the
joint from my hand and had a smoke. ‘As friends, I thought it’s me
you come to when you need a big dick.’
I propped
myself on my left elbow and grabbed his balls in my right hand. I
smiled down at his face. ‘You don’t have a big cock, Taraje. It’s
small, but you know how to use it; that’s what I love about
you.’
‘Ha!’ he cried.
‘To hear you admit that you’ve fallen in love with me is a sobering
thought,’ he said, getting up and handing me the joint of weed.
‘That's not
what I meant,’ I said with a laugh.
He kissed me.
‘Be quiet, lover. Lemme pour us the champagne to clear our heads,’
he said, getting out of bed.
I laughed and
slapped his naked butt. I lay my head back on the pillow and faced
the ceiling. I took a drag at the weed and felt it lift me to the
skies. It felt absolutely fantastic to be alive.
The Job
The sexual
healing provided to me by one Taraje Jackson didn’t last long.
Soon, I was spending sleepless nights, thinking about impending
poverty that was lurking in the horizon. I didn’t have any money
saved that would warrant any mentioning. I’d worked as a teacher
for two years at a private school, but my Mathematics education had
not yet taught me how to save money.
I was still
knee-deep in a pile of debt that had come to me by way of student
loans. It was a pile to whose shrinking I contributed a large
amount of my monthly salary. And then after rent took its own share
of my earnings I was left with barely enough to eat and dress
myself. It was a system that had worked well for the past two
years, but with the termination of my services at the school where
I had taught teenagers the fundamentals of Mathematics, it was a
system that would soon become dysfunctional. As that was an
eventuality that I didn’t relish, I went on a feverish hunt for new
ways of income.
This hunt led
to me getting invited for an interview for a tutoring job. After
calling the number that was provided in the online advert I was
e-mailed the directions to a home in Long Island. Because of the
aforementioned financial problems in my life, I don’t as yet have a
car. I fully depend on New York City’s esteemed public transport
system to get around. Hence, I took a cab to Long Island.
When I arrived
there, I was interviewed for the tutoring job by a married couple.
The man was a big-framed giant with a gentle smile. He was black.
His wife was a thin-framed white bitch with glowing skin and a fake
tan. She had long, blonde hair and one of those judgmental faces
rich bitches seem to always have. I hated her at first sight, and
judging by the way she looked at me, the feeling was mutual. It was
the first interview that I actually yearned to fail. But as things
never actually go the way we wish in life, I actually nailed the
interview, and found myself the Math tutor of Mr. and Mrs.
Hensley’s 17-year-old son.
The son was a
youth with a head full of curly black hair and a handsome face. He
was tall like his father, but his complexion was much lighter
because of the mixed genes from both of his parents. He looked
older than his seventeen years, but I guess that was because I
myself had been seventeen only seven years previously. He had an
athletic body, and was addicted to basketball and cars. His parents
had bought him for his 18th birthday a Mercedes Benz SLS Gullwing
roadster. For the uninitiated, the price for that phallic symbol is
almost $200,000. To put it in perspective, I could have paid off my
student loan debt and still remained with enough change to pay my
rent for several months with that money.
He drove
himself in that car every day to his private school in the Upper
East Side. However, at the famous private school he attended, the
young man was more interested in sports activities and girls than
the academic side of things, so much that he had fallen behind in
his Mathematics scores, and his parents were worried that he would
not make it to Wall Street.
The Hensleys
were a very wealthy couple, but for some reason they had decided to
have only one child to solidify their marriage. And for some
mysterious reason they had decided to name that child of theirs
Fortune.
The House
He found her in
the laundry room.
She was
standing at the sink separating colors. He came and stood behind
her and said nothing. She could feel the power of his gaze behind
her. He was undressing her with his eyes. She felt a tingling
sensation at her neck, and almost jumped when he suddenly spoke.
‘Why are you dressed like that? Is it appropriate for my son? You
know, teenagers live at the mercy of their emotions.’