Billionaire Stepbrother - Addiction: The Complete Series Page 8

  He stroked again and again into her throat, the full length sliding back and forth, making her emit noises that raised him to even greater and more intense states of sexual arousal. His animal instincts took over, and he grabbed her wet hair. He entwined his hands in its wetness, shoving into her until they both surrendered to their bliss.

  As Brett came, his come shot through the water, making little serpents of whitish fluid. Kady, now wholly engaged in making sure her stepbrother was aware of her intentions, dove beneath the bubbling waters.

  Her hair floated and wafted across her field of view, and she could see the ropy strands of Brett’s salty come shoot from the slit. She wanted so much to make sure none of it escaped her voracious mouth. She scooped it into her hands, lifting it from the waters and licking her palm clean. Then, she would stuff Brett’s manhood into her mouth, sucking it down, her tongue lubricating its long, supple length, as she forced more and more of it into her. She shoved her head under the water, bringing her nose up against the forest of dark hairs that were like the mane of a great leonine beast. She sucked long, almost drowning in her desperate need to ingest all of his essence. She lost her mind and was blacking out, when he raised her above the surface of the water, her eyes unfocused, her body shaking, her pussy throbbing with orgasm after orgasm, as she fully enjoyed all the sensations of sucking his man meat into her. She never had felt as needy and in need of a man. She wanted him in her; in her pussy, her ass, her mouth, rubbing between her breasts, coming, shooting his manly semen, his purely male issue, the one thing of his of which she knew she would never be able to get enough. Her lust forced her to do dangerous things; she wanted to drown with his gorgeous manhood lodged in her mouth, his come mixing with the warm water her as it filled her lungs.

  She imagined what it would be like to have him fucking her in the ass. She saw him, in her mind’s eye, as hung like a wild stallion.

  His enormous horsecock stuck out from his waist, erect and oddly out of proportion, a monstrous appendage whose only purpose was to serve as the fleshy conduit of his seed. She saw him shooting his semen, a great, enormous, and fantastic load of hot spunk, filling her so full her gluttonous belly expanded with the volume.

  She dreamed that his hot come would eat into her body, replacing her feeble flesh, as it was absorbed. She only desired to be an extension of him…of his come. She wanted his massive testicles to fully empty, and each spastic spurt would eliminate her own being, and replace her cells with his. She craved to be HIS. Entirely. Utterly. No question. When she swallowed, the taste in her mouth would be of his cock, his balls, his semen, the taste of his mouth. Of HIM.

  When she breathed, she moaned with unrepentant desire that the manly aroma of his maleness would fill her lungs, so that she could experience for just another second, being close to him. Having him. Becoming one with him.

  Kady sat in the tub, Brett’s penis fixed firmly in her lips. She sucked on him. He flowed into and out of her throat, a piston of passion that was rapidly accelerating her own perverse pleasure systems. She knew her clit was afire, she had tried to have Brett finger her, but he was so focused on enjoying his own experience as she fellated him that he was almost insensate himself!

  She knew, then, that her own pleasure was going to have to be derived from her innermost fantasies. She pushed a finger into her pussy, massaging the vaginal walls, as they became slick with her excretions. She quickly realized that her own internal fluids were more prolific than the water from the tub, and her fingers found her clit. She rubbed it hard, inserting her other fingers into her slit as she tried, again, to cram the enormous head of Brett’s massive pole far, far into her mouth. She loved the feel of the fleshy mass as it pushed past her tortured lips, forcing her to strain her mouth wide and gaping. Brett’s engorged meat slid into her throat. She felt it up against the roof of her mouth. It mashed her uvula up against the top of her mouth. Her eyes rolled back, as she came again and again.

  She wished she had taste buds there. In fact, she wished her entire body was just a series of sensory inputs wired straight to her brain that were programmed to absorb Brett. She wanted to shove every bit of him into her mind. She wanted to let him know that, without him, she was nothing.

  That bit of revelation left her wondering. Why was this particular man so important to her?

  Why was she willing to fuck and suck this man, her stepbrother, until her entire consciousness was subsumed? She wanted, needed to understand why she was subservient to this man.

  What did he possess that all the other men she had met lacked?

  Was it because he was forbidden?

  

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ted and Sarah were driving along the road in his Bentley Coupe. They were following the instructions that Ted had received earlier in the day from Reighland. As the car approached the beach house, both Ted and Sarah were a bit uncertain as to what lay ahead.

  “Sarah, what do you think this is all about?” asked Ted. He concentrated on driving the car, paying close attention to the sides of the road. There were always deer about and more than once he had only narrowly avoided a collision.

  Sarah sat, pensive, thinking about what she was feeling. She knew that the event was going to be something unique and exciting, but she wasn’t sure Ted could adapt or appreciate the intense nature of Reighland’s soiree. She stared out the window, listening to the light music playing on the sound system. Combined with the gentle purr of the Bentley’s powerful motor, and the light rain that had begun to fall, she drifted off, remembering her first encounter with opulence, and the man they were about to visit.

  Unknown to Ted, Sarah knew all about Reighland.

  Walter Reighland was an industrial tycoon, who had made fortunes in oil, steel, copper, film and aerospace. He was feted for his charm, and the ability to put people at ease, even as he was devouring their lives. Handsome, ruthless and driven, Reighland had bested his opponents in many of the traditional ways of the robber barons of old.

  But, he also introduced a few twists, by shamelessly including many of the most questionable tactics used by famous underworld bosses. Reighland’s eyes were always on the prize, and he never lost, entirely, or for very long.

  There were a series of scandals involving bonds and offshore banks that had been caught up in laundering drug monies at one point, and not a few of his adversaries met with untimely ends. But, there was never any scent of it that touched him personally.

  He had been married only twice. His first wife divorced him, getting a large settlement. She lived on the French Riviera and was known to frequent the casinos with a variety of famous young actors and musicians.

  Reighland’s second wife played the hostess at his charitable events and chaired two of his most famous foundations. She was a genteel Southern lady, from Texas. It was rumored she was a lesbian, but the smart set knew that it was best not to speculate on her private affairs.

  Reighland was always able to go ahead and set up an interesting cross-section of people at his events. It was just one of the things that always made him famous. But his sexual appetite and his voracious nature were well-known. As a result of this several people would always bow out. It became a contest of personal morals and wills versus the desire to be included in one of the most talked about and decadent events of the year.

  In fact, Sarah had participated once, many years earlier, in one his most notorious trysts. Years after her husband’s death, Sarah had been invited to an event in Paris, France. It was in the late 1990’s.

  When she had arrived, she was surprised to find out that many of the people she knew from other corporations where she had worked were also in attendance. They represented the cream of the financial crop, and few people were there who were not fabulously wealthy. Reighland had a method in how he chose his guests, and she would soon be privy to the policies he had made to assure that only the best would be in attendance.

  Many other similar events were touted in the m
edia, including the GRO and WTO summits, and the G-7 and United Nations events.

  But, few who were not in attendance ever found out about Reighland’s decadent parties. The guests, once they had been initiated, rarely spoke to anyone who had not been as well about it.

  It was a secret club, made even more elite by the unbridled and uninhibited rites of passage practiced by the wealthy. The mere existence of such a thing was deflected in many ways, including censoring media. There were larger issues at stake here than freedom of the Press.

  For the Paris event, Sarah had been invited by her boss. The romance of France and the city drew her in, and she was captivated by the sudden attention Bob was paying her. How could she resist?

  She had been sleeping with Bob occasionally, primarily to pick his brain regarding important architectural concepts about which she was interested. Their pillow talk revolved around arcane business items, but she never grew bored discussing profit and loss, or tax law, or debentures. She was fascinated to learn that much of the things she took for granted as the member of a wealthy family, although relatively opaque to her, mattered greatly to the people who would invest in a business such as his.

  Bob was a very polite and attentive lover, but her real issue with him was that he was married.

  While she really did not have any issues about this, (it was his problem, she rationalized), a small voice nagged at her occasionally. She supposed she entertained the conceit that he would eventually leave his wife for her, and that would validate their affair. Of course, that was quite unlikely to occur, but she enjoyed Bob while she could. She had no need of his money, (she was far richer than he, and he knew it), and his family matters presented no concerns to her. She had her own life to live. Bob was a nice accessory for a while.

  Or so she had thought…

  This particular trip presented an opportunity to her where she felt perhaps she could reconcile her feelings about Bob, and his infidelity, with her own desires to succeed in the extraordinarily competitive architectural firm business.

  They flew over on the Concorde, enjoying their astonishingly few hours of flight time, and landed at Le Bourget.

  From which there they took a train to Paris, staying at the Elite Hôtel Ritz Paris. (During their stay, she was surprised to see the Princess of Wales, dining with what appeared to be a Saudi businessman. They seemed very chummy, to her. She wondered what the Prince would have thought!)

  Bob insisted on treating her like a mistress. In France, this was actually a typical arrangement. Many successful men had at least one, and Bob was, in his way, successful. He enjoyed showing her off to his other friends, and Sarah decided she did not mind this intimate and romantic interlude in her life. She wanted to enjoy life for a while. Kady was with her grandparents, and the timing had been perfect. Now, she could, with no pressure and being able to focus intently on herself, ask the hard questions as to why she was with Bob at all.

  One of the things that always puzzled her was why women would subjugate themselves to a secondary relationship such as that of a mistress or paramour.

  Upon her reflection of her own morals and feelings, she felt that if Bob’s wife could not sufficiently provide him with a stimulating and exciting relationship that it was endemic and almost her duty to go ahead and provide such a relationship for him.

  For a time, she had fooled herself into thinking that being second was almost better than being first. When Bob first approached her to become his mistress she was reluctant. She had just been widowed only a few years, and her relationships with other men had run the gamut, from one night stands to a few months. But, the convenience of being able to respond to an invitation to dinner, followed by some light dancing, a blowjob in the car, and then a few hours of totally wild fucking had its merits. She wasn’t the one dealing with arranging his social calendar. She didn’t have to clean his shirts, or even do anything other than be available. She had her own needs, and Bob was a far more versatile lover than her battery-operated-boyfriend, (whom she had playfully nicknamed BOB, although in reality it was a Hitachi vibrator).

  Sarah had been surprised that she was willing to entertain being in a relationship with a married man. One of the things she had promised herself was to not be in such situations where an innocent party might suffer.

  She knew just how much men had would lie to get their dicks wet. It was just part of their makeup. She had come to terms with that knowledge many years prior and was self-aware enough to allow for her feelings to reconcile her own selfishness with the possibility that she was interfering with someone else’s love life.

  Sarah knew that women had many reasons as to why they would choose a particular man over another. She knew that a lot of them married only for money, or convenience, or through some manner of arrangement that allowed for much latitude in interpersonal relationships and intimacy. Some women were mere gold-diggers. Some were martyrs. Some were just whores. She felt pity and distaste for their choices, but she did not fault them merely because they were women. She knew that life forced some people into hard paths, and she tried mightily not to judge them.

  She did not believe that she fell into any of the categories that others felt were the hallmark of the desperate woman. She knew she had liked it when she was married. It provided a stable environment in which she could raise Kady. The tendency to move every so often because of Jim’s rank was somewhat inconvenient, but he loved Kady and spent a lot of time with her when he came back from his deployments. They weren’t in a perfect marriage, she thought, but who was?

  After Jim had been killed, she knew she was not ready to get tied down to another man. Her first marriage, cut short by her his untimely death, had taught her about the volatility and absurd capriciousness of life. She did not want her daughter to suffer her fate, of choosing a man who had been so devoted to his country and his cause that his death was inevitable.

  So, Sarah had attempted to broaden her horizons. She spoke with her mother and sought some advice. Although they had never been close, she did find some guidance from the woman. She was pleased that a lot of it echoed her own secret thoughts. After this, she didn’t feel like she was lost at sea. Some fabric of her life had morphed, becoming a sail, instead of a shroud.

  She found that she really enjoyed good, enthusiastic sex, and did not shy away from most intimate acts.

  She would have admitted to her closest female friends that she enjoyed sucking a man off, to be sure. She might have confided to only her best friend that she indeed was aroused by the taste of her own juices when she could lick them off a lover’s chin.

  In fact, there had been a time when she had wondered if a woman was more to her liking. She thought she was more of appreciative of women, their passion, their love, and their ability to take the most arcane emotions and translate them into meaningful gestures for their lovers and mates. She knew that women were the keystones to any solid foundation; that they were the mortar that cemented a marriage into a rigid structure, sturdy enough to weather any adversity.

  Sarah found the thought of one man, for the rest of her life, was now not as attractive an alternative as it had been when she had been younger. For one thing, her marriage to Kady’s father had been fraught with drama. She had been a naïve woman, who had fallen for Jim because of the uniform.

  After the honeymoon, he had turned into a cheating, hardened bastard. His one saving grace was that he never involved Kady, and he had the common sense to practice some discretion in his peccadillos. Fucking his general officer wasn’t the smartest thing he could have done. It led to some severe recriminations and some unforeseen problems. Sarah had been peripherally aware of Jim’s transgressions but was ready to forgive him, given the affection with which he and Kady related.

  When he was killed on a mission, Sarah withdrew into herself for a time. It was one of those things. She knew it was always a possibility; she had been too egotistical to think that one day, she may have been one of those women who had been visited by
an honor guard.

  Sarah filled her sexual needs mainly through the help of a good selection of toys, and some discrete scheduling of her personal time, for a few years. But, then she had met Bob and was interested enough to see where the interaction might lead.

  The funny part was, Bob was not all that attractive. He was brash, loud, and a definite lout. But, Bob had a charm, and it was evident that the ladies liked him. He always had at least two or three gals in his harem.

  His wife had long ago decided to turn a blind eye since he was an excellent provider. His one son had excelled in college and sports and then gone on to become a broadcaster for ESPN. Bob used this as vindication for his exemplary genetic makeup. He was not above introducing prospective sex partners to his son and then banging them some time after. Even though Sarah thought it reprehensible, she still found she was attracted to Bob. At first, she simply thought it probably was just timing, and he did smell good. Perhaps a fling would get her focused more on what she felt was important in her own life. She didn’t want to cause Bob or his wife any undue problems, so she quietly told herself it would be just an affair.

  “Everyone else had at least one, right?” she thought. What would be the harm if she kept her mouth shut?

  She hadn’t counted on Bob falling in love with her, however. The real romantic portion of their relationship had finally manifested itself one hot, passionate evening.

  They had gone out on the town to dinner in an elite Parisian restaurant, where they had dined on the exquisite fare. The wine was perfect, and the atmosphere divine. They talked, and she decided that she wanted to really know Bob. He was not model material, but he had the Midwestern sensibility that her mother had tried to get her to notice. She liked the way he paused and waited for her to respond when they chatted. He seemed to sincerely value her opinion. That was a bit of a rarity, as her husband had long ago relegated her input to mere noise, as opposed to the orders he received from his government. She thought maybe Bob’s wife had similarly taken him for granted, although she knew that it was enormously presumptive and pretentious of her to believe such a thing.