A Billionaire's Life Ch. 02

My whole body trembled until I was done spurting and I sagged happily into the couch cushions. But even after gulping down five days-worth of semen, Brittany wasn't done with me yet.

"I want you to fuck me," she growled and resumed suckling my cock. "I've dreamed of you fucking me."

To be honest, now that I'd gotten my rocks off, I wasn't really in a hurry. Brittany had certainly given me an amazing orgasm, but I didn't feel a damn thing for her. She was just the maid. So apart from my usual desire to get up close and personal with fresh pussy, I wasn't particularly interested in continuing.

Just then, a familiar logo came on screen. The clock clicked over into the new hour and the generic news channel I'd been watching switched to a program I was only too familiar with.

"And welcome to Celebrity Sightings! Where YOU see the stars FIRST."

And then her face came on screen: perfect cheekbones, coppery hair, and brilliant blue eyes. I felt a surge of lust course through me and Brittany oohed as she felt me hardening in her mouth once again.

"Sad news all you bachelors, or even taken men who were still hoping to trade up. The most beautiful woman in the world has a BOYFRIEND."

A cold numbness spread through me as I saw video of Ashlyn walking hand-in- hand with Martin Dean from a Mercedes SL55 and into one of the finest restaurants on Sunset in Hollywood. A collage of still photos then started popping on screen showing the two of them, still hand-in-hand, walking in a park, watching a USC football game, buying coffee, and sharing a kiss at a restaurant dining table.

The breathy young reporter girl went on and on about how the glamorous pair met two weeks ago in Manhattan and how they'd been inseparable ever since. They explained how Martin Dean was a successful finance guru on Wall Street. And while I watched the video continuing with Ashlyn smiling and snuggling into Dean's arms while he slid his hand down to her ass, I found my blood absolutely boiling once again.

"Ooh!" Brittany gasped as I became rock hard in her hands and she quickly stood up to strip off her skirt and panties. I noticed, with approval, that she kept her shoes on. While comfortable, they were still cute heels. And when I flicked my gaze to hers, my young maid smiled and straddled my legs before guiding my cock between her bare-shaven pussy lips and sinking herself down onto me.

I reached beneath her armpits and grabbed both of Brittany's shoulders in my hands. And then with a violent tug, I yanked the young girl down around my cock, driving myself all the way into her in one powerful thrust. She shrieked at the sudden invasion, but already I wasn't paying attention.

For the next thirty seconds, Celebrity Sightings kept showing more video and commentary on the latest celebrity couple. And while I started jerking Brittany down and she flexed her legs to push herself up in that ancient cycle of fucking, my eyes were firmly locked over her shoulder and on the TV. Seeing the gorgeous woman – the gorgeous woman **I** wanted – with that slimeball lit a fire in my veins, and my hands tightened against Brittany's shoulders as I started slamming her against me.

But eventually, the segment ended and they moved on to something else. I ceased caring about what was on the screen and refocused on the cute blonde bouncing in my lap and along my shaft.

My hands dragged down Brittany's naked spine, causing her to throw her head back and moan while we fucked powerfully and angrily, at least on my part. When my hands got back to her ass, I gripped her cheeks firmly and used them as handholds to piledrive the girl's lighter body up and down.

"Holy FUCK!" she exclaimed as I roughly manhandled her. And when I rubbed my finger over her rosebud, she started trembling.

"I want your ass..." I growled.

"Take it," Brittany gasped as her eyes flared.

I didn't waste another moment, lifting her off me and spinning the girl around. I kicked her feet to the sides so that her legs formed an A-frame and then pushed at her lower back to bent Brittany over and plant her hands on the coffee table.

And then with my hands spreading her asscheeks, I leaned in and started tonguing her anal sphincter. It was slightly bitter, but pretty clean. And I didn't want to deal with hunting for lube at a time like this.

"Holy SHIT!" she wailed as I rimmed her out. And when I stopped and stood up behind her, Brittany just started panting while trying to lean her ass in my direction.

First my right hand and then my left clamped onto her hips. And with Brittany's ass held still, her arms trembled as I nudged my angry cockhead over the tight star and started pressing forward.

Coated with pussy-lubrication and spit, her anal resistance was soon broken down and I gasped as I felt the head pop through. Brittany moaned and then started whimpering with mild pain as I stretched her out more quickly than she'd expected as I crammed more and more of my meat into her rectum.

"Oh gawd... fuck my ass..." she crooned.

"I'm fucking it! I'm fucking it!" I growled as I suited words to action. No sooner did I hit rock bottom than I was pulling back out until just the ridge of my mushroom head was still keeping me inside. And then as hard as I could, I pumped back into her. And then again... and again...

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" Brittany started crying as I pounded away at her backside. She gasped and panted and reached back with one hand to rub her own clit while I wailed on her backdoor.

All my hatred for Dean. All my anger for the bad deal. All my frustrations with Cassandra went into that fuck. I was gripping the poor girl so hard that I knew she'd be bruised by tomorrow. I didn't care. I fucked her abused asshole *hard* and without care for her feelings.

If she came, good for her. If she didn't, oh well. I just had to FUCK something.

And fuck something I did. She was an object. She was nothing. She was just a tight tunnel and a cum dumpster. And I fucked her even harder.

"Ohhh! Unghh! Owww!" Brittany cried. The rest of her moans and grunts weren't even *that* intelligible.

Somewhere along the way, Brittany did get an orgasm. She moaned in agony and ecstasy and tensed up and tightened up. For a minute I had to work rather hard to keep thrusting through her tightness. And when it was over I kept going.

"Ungh..." Brittany hung her head and started drooling. Her legs became wobbly and her arms shaky from the physical pounding I was giving her. I was far stronger and in much better shape from frequent exercise, and the poor girl simply couldn't keep up. She couldn't even moan anymore, only emit little whimpers.

When her arms gave out she nearly face-planted into the coffee table. I wouldn't have really cared so much if this motion didn't also nearly dislodge my cock from her ass. So I held her up and then spun us both around until she was kneeling on the couch, her chest pressed up against the backrest while I kept reaming out her lewdly stretched-open asshole.

Brittany started crying then. Her body just couldn't take anymore and she soon went limp against the couch, just trying to endure until I was done violating her.

Fortunately for her, that wasn't much longer. With a firm grip on her left titty with one hand and on her right hip with my other hand, I yanked and tugged and thrust a few final times before sinking my cock as deeply as I could up her anal chute, and then with gasping grunts of my own, I began spewing out a violent torrent of jism into Brittany's rectal cavity.

She whimpered softly with my final thrusts, and she gasped when she felt that impact of fluid against her innards. And while I pumped out more and more semen up Brittany's ass, no longer shaking her like a rag doll, she finally stopped sobbing and became silent.

Only then did my anger abate.

***

I was passed out on the couch by the time Cassandra stormed into my private lounge. My two vodka-tonics had been drained rather quickly, and combined from my post-ejaculate crash I'd quickly surrendered to the bliss of unconsciousness, still naked and still with Brittany's drying fluids on me.

As it was, I only came away when Cassandra started slapping my face. And she wasn't holding anything back, either.

"Wha-?" I groggily came away and tried to shield my face at the same time.

"What the FUCK is wrong with you?" Cassandra spat.

"Wha-?" I wasn't sure where I was or what I was doing. What's going on?

"Dammit, Jonathan! Wake up!" Cassandra kept hitting me.

"Stop! Stop! I'm awake! I'm awake!" I protested while trying to shield myself.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Cassandra repeated.

"What are you TALKING about?" I complained.

"There's a poor little girl downstairs trying to put on a brave face in front of Dorothy. But you fucked the SHIT out of her!"

"So?"

"So? SO?" she asked incredulously. "She's got wicked bruises on her hips and her chest. Why the hell did you do that? And why the hell were you even screwing HER?"

"She wanted to!" I moaned.

"She wanted you to beat her up?"

"I didn't beat her up!"

"Well it sure fucking looks like it!" Somehow, Cassandra's Aussie accent made her swearing even more unreal.

"And I haven't gotten laid in five days!"

"Whose fucking fault is that? I've offered every three hours for the past two weeks and you won't touch me!" Cassandra looked ready to pull out her hair.

"No! You've offered to 'serve' me. I only ever wanted to make love with you."

"It's the same thing!"

"No, it's not," I started crying even while fresh anger came to my face. All my resentment at Cassandra for holding herself back from me came to the fore. I wanted to love her. And all she wanted to be was my assistant.

"You want to serve me?" I yelled. "You want me to treat you like a servant? You want me to treat you like just another maid?" I raged and got up. Roughly, I reached out and grabbed Cassandra's shoulders.

"Turn around, bitch!" I yelled and tried to forcibly spin Cassandra around, even as the tears poured down my face.

"Bend over before me!" I screamed and tried to yank down Cassandra's pants. I'd never fucked Cassandra's ass before. She hadn't wanted it and even when I'd asked she'd told me it just wasn't her thing. Taylor, Kaitlyn, Rebecca: they all got off on it, as did I. But I could never have pushed Cassandra. I loved her too much to ever order her to do something she wouldn't enjoy. Until now.

"I'm going to fuck your fucking asshole, bitch!" I thundered and put all my strength into subduing my personal assistant while she struggled to free herself.

The problem: Cassandra was much bigger and stronger than Brittany. I was having a hard time pushing her around into position, especially since I couldn't focus very well on what I was doing. I'd only managed to twist her half-away from me when she suddenly turned and with a powerful closed-fist, popped a good punch just beneath my eye.

"Aahh!" I shouted in pain and turned away.

"You are FUCKED up, Jonathan!" Cassandra yelled at me. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

I just held up my cheek and collapsed back to the couch.

"You're going to be damn lucky if Brittany doesn't press charges. You could go to fucking JAIL for what you did to her!" Cassandra seethed. "And to me!"

Cassandra didn't wait for further response. She threw her hands up and stalked out of the room.

Everything was going to hell.

***

I stirred awake when I felt arms gripping and moving my body. The morning sunlight pierced its way through the room and seared my eyeballs when I tried to open them. "Wha-?" I slurred and a female voice said "Ah, shit, his breath stinks."

The next thing I knew, I was slumped on cold marble and then felt the spray of hot water raining down on me. "Aahh!" I yelled and lifted my arms to try and ward away the water. But still it kept pouring and I spat out what had gotten into my mouth before rotating away so I could breathe.

"I leave you alone for less than a week and *this* is what happens to you?" Taylor said from somewhere just outside the shower.

I looked up and my gorgeous wife smiled at me. Her deep blue eyes shone and with her short black hair and long bangs, she was just how I'd always pictured her in my dreams. "Taylor!" I gasped in happy relief.

"You're heavier than you look," she commented.

"I'll say." I glanced next to my wife and saw Rebecca leaning against the other shower wall with her arms folded across her chest. Both women were casually dressed, suitable for a Saturday morning.

Satisfied that I was in decent shape, Rebecca turned away. "I'll see you downstairs," she told my wife.

"Sure thing. And thanks for the help," Taylor nodded to her friend.

"No problem." And then Rebecca left.

"You want to talk about it?" my wife asked as I woke up and started to move.

"Not really," I said quietly, wincing at shooting pains in my forehead.

"That's quite a shiner you've got on your cheek."

Gingerly, I touched the spot where Cassandra had punched me and winced again at the fresh pain. "Yeah, complicated story."

"Cassandra told me," Taylor leaned against the wall and folded her arms. "But I still wanted to hear your side."

"She tell you we lost the deal?"

"Yeah."

"She tell you I fucked Brittany?"

"Yeah."

"She tell you Brittany's going to press criminal charges?"

"No, Brittany's not. The girl's a little roughed up, but she doesn't want to do that to you. We're going to have to talk about that."

"Cassandra tell you I assaulted her?"

"'Assault' is such a harsh word isn't it?"

"But accurate," I moaned and held my head.

"It's not that bad."

I sighed. "You know Ashlyn and Dean are a couple, now?"

"Yeah. Heard it on the grapevine while I was in Cabo."

"I just feel like my world is spiraling out of control."

Taylor stepped a foot into the shower, just barely keeping herself out of the spray zone. She crouched down and looked at me intently. I was already curled up and seated in the corner of the shower. But now a part of me wanted to further shrink away.

"Johnny, there's nothing we can't fix together. Look, you're still fabulously wealthy and you've still got me. Cassandra's more worried than mad at you. Ashlyn can take care of herself. And Brittany's not even upset with you."

Quietly, I said, "It doesn't change me being an evil person."

Taylor sighed, her eyes rolled, and then Taylor did something patently 'Taylor- ish'. Something she'd only done once before in a similar situation. She reached up and slapped me, hard.

My jaw felt like it dislocated with the impact. The slap was twice as hard as Cassandra's punch, and I couldn't even say 'oww' it hurt so much. I just cowered down for a moment and held my cheek.

Taylor cocked her head to the side and glowered at me. "Johnny, stand the FUCK up and act like a man!" she ordered while brushing the water off her sleeve.

I stood.

"Clean up and then I'll see you downstairs."'

***

Cassandra was on the couch with Taylor in the family room when I arrived. The two stopped their conversation and Cassandra stood up.

I became a statue in the entryway as the statuesque blonde I loved so much wouldn't even look me in the eye as she walked towards me. Neither of us said anything until she stopped politely just a few feet a way and bobbed her head. "Sir," she nodded deferentially and then slipped past me.

I turned to follow her with my pained expression but she never looked back.

I heard Taylor sigh and then she held her arms out to me as I approached. I sagged onto the couch and let my wife embrace me and set her cheek against my shoulder.

"Don't worry, honey. She's not going to leave us," Taylor soothed. "This is just Cassandra's way of dealing with things. When she feels like you and her are getting TOO close, she walls up her feelings."

"But why does she have to make things so black and white?" I groaned. "In love... not. Wife... assistant. Things have never really BEEN that way. She's ALWAYS been kind of a hybrid. She's never fit into any preconceived role."

"Why do YOU have to make things so black and white?" Taylor looked into my eyes.

"Huh? I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You're the one wanting to push her in one direction or the other. Cassandra has some internal sense of balance between loving you and serving you. And from what I understand, you're the one pushing her towards 'wife'. You try and get her permission to move Rebecca in. You tell her flat out you think of her as a wife. And then you say you'll fire her from her assistant responsibilities!"

Taylor slipped her hand into mine and intertwined our fingers. "You screwed with her sense of balance and she's trying to counterweigh that by overly emphasizing her servant-assistant role."

"Overly emphasizing? She flat out refuses to touch me with out making it clear she is 'servicing' me. I never wanted that! She's not a sex-slave! I respect her too much!"

Taylor exhaled and waited several long seconds for me to calm down from my momentary outburst. "You're arguing semantics, honey. To you, it's making love like man and wife. To her, it's fulfilling your every need and feeling good about herself for doing so. You're right, the word 'servicing' has a negative connotation. But what she wants to do with you is the same thing she's always wanted... to make you happy."

"Then get her to stop using the fucking word!" I grumbled.

Taylor chuckled. "I will, I will. As long as YOU stop trying to corner her into being a wife. You've already GOT ONE, remember?"

I turned and looked at Taylor. "I do. But you KNOW how I feel about Cassandra."

"I do," Taylor looked at me, her blue eyes reflecting the depths of the ocean. "I understand. And while I don't think she's as special to me, I'm happy with her role in our lives."

My wife squeezed my hand and looked at me intently. "Weren't you happy with our arrangement? Hadn't we found a good balance for the three of us? Or do you really want to push Cassandra in a direction she doesn't want to go?"

I sighed and looked down. Then I pulled Taylor to my chest and hugged her tightly. "No, we're good. I may not understand her... not like you two understand me... but I can accept that it's what she wants."

"Good." Taylor pulled back and held me at arms length. "You know, she's just as miserable as you are. She said you hadn't had sex for what, five days? Since you wouldn't let her 'serve' you, she hasn't had any sex for two weeks! Gawd I would have gone crazy after that long!"

I blushed and managed a small smile. "Should I go track her down?"

Taylor touched her hand to my cheek and said, "No, I'll talk to her first and then send her to you later."

I nodded. I wanted to make things right, but I was happy for Taylor's help.

Taylor started chuckling then. "Who'd have thought I'd end up playing marriage counselor for my husband and his assistant?"

***

Taylor had just left me and went in search of Cassandra while I lay back against the couch and contemplated my next move. It was another lazy Saturday morning. The markets were closed and my usual activity of choice would have been morning sex with a beautiful woman; but at the moment, I seemed fresh out.

As if on cue, Brittany walked into the family room, clad in her usual uniform with white blouse and black skirt. I sat up straight and immediately evaluated her for injuries.

"Hi, Mr. K," she said in her cute helium voice. "Ooh, what happened to your face?"

I reached up and touched the bruise beneath my eye where Cassandra had punched me. "Uh, long story. How are you Brittany?" I asked with concern. "Are you hurt?"

"No, no. Just a few bruises." She smiled tightly, forcing a cheerier expression onto her face as she stood before me. She saw my probing gaze on her body and she untucked her blouse and lifted the side to show me the purplish marks around her waist where I'd gripped her too hard. There was nothing visible on the exposed skin of her uniform, her face and arms just fine.