A Fucking Investment Ch. 17

Chapter 17: Using Eve, Mounting a Crescendo, and Discovering a Dungeon

So after a very long layoff with the bitch muse abandoning me, I have finally returned with this episode of the Fucking Investment. The MILF will return soon too, I hope. If the bitch is nice to me. I hope you enjoy. Vote your conscience some other time. Leave comments. -C

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When life doesn't interfere with pleasure, business tends to do so. I had pussy lined up around the block and it all had to wait. I had two blonde twins shackled at Cassie's house, an appointment with Aurora's investor, sister or sista, whatever, Rae Dawn escaped her blinking ankle bracelet and needed some instruction, and Eve. Those were just the pressing issues that I knew about. And business interfered.

I had been trying to make a move, to buy out a business I wanted to own for three years. Not a competitor as such but someone on a parallel track I wanted to push him out into space and strand him. That weekend, the opportunity appeared. Crowley was irate that I didn't keep focused on the pussy parade and said so. He didn't understand this opportunity was one of the things I had kept in mind and never managed to satisfy, an old grudge against a spiritual foe who contaminated reality. I wanted to be rid of him. I'd like to say it was hate but is it hate when you smash a cockroach with a shoe as it skitters across the bathroom floor after you turn on the light? The man was a liar and a cheat and I wanted to be rid of him.

So business interfered and for a eight days I lived in my office. I know the door bell rang but the first time I told Jennifer to ward them away and leave me be. By the third day I think she was a little frightened. She tried everything to pull my focus away from my play against this guy and nothing worked. You know when Hollywood has the guy and the girl stop for a minute in the middle of a disaster and kiss? That always struck me as being impossible. If I was in a war and people were shooting at me, trying to blow my ass into slices, my mouth would be so dry if you kissed me my skin would stick to you and you have to rip it off to get lose. Like wet kissing the flag pole when it's below zero outside.

That's how it was with this thing. Suddenly the opportunity was there and I was so wrapped up in it that Holdingsfield and its pussy just vanished from my sight. It's like I was diving for pearls and had to hold my breath. This guy had cheated my father and one of the things my father told me when I started college was that I had to make a point in life of paying back those that wronged me. This guy made that real to me. I was easy going but this guy, he was a shit and deserved what he got. I took away his company, foreclosed on his real estate holdings and crashed his stock, all in eight days. It was a fucking rush. I felt like the Godfather settling family accounts.

When it was over, I crashed. Jennifer had blended with me so well, when it was over, I was proud of her but did not feel the need to tell her or show her or in any way reassure her that her status as my sex object wasn't compromised. She turned out to be a real good watch dog and after I finished with the A-hole, she let me just sleep and slough off for three days while I recovered. It had been tense and I'd had fifty million at risk for a while, and that makes a guy tense, even me.

The third day of decompressing from the deep dive, I was sure no nitrogen bubbles were going to percolate in my bloodstream and pop my eyes out of my head. My play was winding down and the waiting was over. The only thing I needed to decide was whether to go over to his brand new refrigerator box and gloat or not. I got him and I got him good, the motherfucker. I was sleeping the sleep of the righteous when something woke me up. It wasn the dream where I was hammering some woman I'd never seen, well, never hammered before out in the real world and enjoying it when something wobbled my world and woke me up. I lay staring up at the ceiling, trying to get my bearings when I felt it again. The bed shook.

I about jumped out of my skin. My heart went from 60 to 180 bpm in gnat's wink and the thought flashed through my head that it was the beginning of an earthquake. I sat up in bed. The voice nearly stopped my heart in its tracks.

"Jesus, you do sleep hard. I can see your dong standing up all tall and happy from here and in the dark."

I gasped and flopped back down. I noticed in a sort of detached way that I wasn't irate. The dream of the lush black woman on her knees was replaced by a wish to have the present Vicky Vice on her knees but over me, sitting down on my very hard and neglected cock.

"What are you doing here, Samantha?"

"I told you I might bring you some business, that is, some of my business." She whispered.

I'd spoken in a normal voice.

"Here I am." She sounded wide awake. Chipper and happy as a lark on a spring morning.

"Here you are. What are you wearing?"

She giggled.

"You think this is a sex call? Nope. I'm doing the advance team sort of work to make sure you don't fumble the ball, or the pussy I'm bringing you tomorrow."

I wanted her to explain but I wanted her to mount me and whistle while she worked. My big brain kicked in and I had the good sense to ask if that was a good goal, irrespective of the amount of time I'd spent on the pussy wagon. Is that a thing? Or is that just marriage?

"What?" I muttered, my mouth dry from sexual need.

"Can I turn on the light?" Samantha asked.

I snorted.

"You are in my bed, I think you should come closer."

"I am not in it. I am sitting on the end. The corner actually.

"What are you wearing?" I really wanted to gauge how difficult it'd be to get her naked or at least get her pussy accessible to my cock. The thrumming of my heart had slowed to a dull ache but my cock was still fully erect and whining like a bitch that I hadn't even fucked Jennifer lately. The blonde was likely feeling neglected. She'd be insulted if I boned this bit of stuff before I boned her.

"Fuck her." I muttered.

"Excuse me?" Samanatha growled, her little voice bubbled with umbrage. Without seeing her, I couldn't tell if she was really pissed off or just posing.

I sat up.

"Nothing. What do you want? I have a hard cock over here, can you fuck and talk at the same time?" I felt how crass that question was and wanted to apologize but realized in time that apologizing to Ms. Uliss was likely the exact wrong thing to ever do. She responded to strength, not politeness. "Come over here. Climb on and tell me your tales."

"My tail isn't in the offing this morning." She said but I thought I heard a little doubt about that assertion in her voice.

I looked around.

"What time is it?" I found the digital clock. "Holy buckets, it's two in the morning. What the hell are you doing over here?"

"I couldn't sleep." She bounced on the bed. "I'm too excited. I have one for you. A woman who'll sign your contract. Tomorrow. Are you proud of me?"

"Proud of you? Why would I be proud of you?"

"I'm making your project easier. I am helping you line up pussy and sign them to your little contract." She made a noise in her throat. "Hey, wait a tick. If she signs with you, can I still get her to go down on me? She has a lovely tongue and she tastes wonderful. She taught me how to fit our pussies together and orgasm together. It's a blast to try to time it so you both come at exactly the same time, face to face like that, legs all intertwined, pussies wet and kissed together. I have to admit though, that I have a thing for cock after times like that and seducing a woman like Lila just makes it worse. God she does love to eat pussy though. She's a champion rug muncher." Sam made a sound in the dark.

Despite the hour and the situation, I found her narrative engaging. I had to shake myself to escape it and return to the here and now.

"What's that got to do with me? What the hell are you talking about?" I knew the name, of course. Lila Lopez was a fine bit of Latin beauty, busty, hippy, sexy in my way. I hesitated over that assertion. Samantha Uliss was sexy in that way too.

"Let me tell you about it."

I nodded, reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. Sam sat cross-legged on the far corner of my bed. She waved at me with a bright smile.

"Hi."

"Hi, yourself."

"Mr. Gale?" Jennifer's voice issued from the hall outside the door. "Who are you talking to?"

I had an evil idea.

"Come on in, Jennifer."

Sam looked daggers at me but twisted around to look at the newcomer.

"Sam?" Jennifer mumbled. She looked like she'd been dragged out of a hay wagon at speed. "What are you doing...oh. Excuse me!" She back stepped.

"Jennifer, please don't go. Samantha has refused to fuck me."

"Oh. Oh!" Jennifer said and her eyes lit, like it was Christmas at the Cratchits. She took back the step she'd lost and then took another sidling towards my side of the bed.

I gestured at Sam.

"We have a guest. She was just telling me that she loved to have her pussy eaten by an educated female and that she could talk while a woman went down on her."

Samantha caught my meaning immediately and gave me a dire look, but one filled with latent arousal and pending anticipation. She uncrossed her bare legs and slid off her side of my large bed. She stood up but her bare legs disappeared below the bed line.

"Ms. Uliss, please, don't you think you can explain yourself while Jennifer tends to you? She hasn't had much attention lately and, well, you'd do me a service to let her do you a service." I grinned.

Samantha gave me her best "look" again but then turned to look at Jennifer.

"Mrs. Simpson, I'd heard you were installed over here. I presumed he'd have you in his bed at all times."

"Oh no, he hasn't been in me for days and days. I was beginning to think he'd changed teams."

"I'd prove my fidelity with Samantha but she thinks its funnier to titillate me rather than to actually fuck me." I said.

Sam looked over at me and sniffed. "More fun, perhaps but I don't find your needful condition to be all that funny, honestly. Given the amount of pussy you have on the hook, if I were you, I think I'd be ashamed or at least abashed."

I ignored her.

"So? Care for a little taste of Vicky Vice?" I asked, moving my eyes to Jennifer. The blonde wore a stunning little baby doll outfit. Her breasts swelled among the ruffles and white lace. Her legs were bare below the frills of the skirt that fluffed about her hips. If there was any fabric between her legs, I couldn't see it.

"Vicky Vice? Who's that?"

I glanced at Samantha and realized I'd stepped in it.

"Just a nickname for a girl I once knew, and fucked." I mumbled. "Go on, have her. Give her a little thrill." I grunted. "I can watch without getting handsy."

"It's dicksy that I worry about." Sam rumbled.

I chuckled. "How worried are you, exactly?"

She shook her head, making her mane of kinky black hair fly around her head.

"I just have a little matter to discuss with you and then I fear I should be going."

I glanced at Jennifer and could see her disappointment plainly on her face.

"Go on, Jennifer, go back to bed. If I need you, I'll come find you."

"Find me and cum, Mr. Gale. I feel neglected."

"You aren't the only one. From what I can tell the women of the Gale are getting restless." Samantha offered her assessment in a plain brown wrapper voice, crinkling as she spoke.

I stared at Jennifer until she finally got the message and did what I'd ordered. Alone once more with Vicky Vice, I turned to her.

She crawled up onto the bed again but this time sat facing me, her legs crossed under her. Her bare knees gleamed in the dull light.

"Lila Lopez." She said, as if trying to remember her place in a memorized script that had been dismissed from the conversation sometime back. "I was saying about Lila, she, I have her arranged to sign with you. I wanted to come over and make sure you knew what was expected of you." Her eyes found me and she waited for some response.

I offered none. I had the feeling that this was somehow a negotiation and I was unclear what I was negotiating to keep or gain. That confused me itself.

"Well, I have convinced her that signing your contract will assure her of cock. I got to thinking though, given how much...uh...I mean how many of the women of Holdingsfield you current have signed, that there might not be room for her. I just came over to be sure if I brought her over tomorrow, you'd be welcoming to her."

"Why Sam..." I hesitate. "...why would you need to check such a thing?"

"Because some have the idea that you are only going to sign half of the woman of Holdingsfield and the others will be turned out into the street after you buy up their mortgages."

I grinned raffishly, mostly to hide my surprise that my situation was so well known.

"I forgot. The women I haven't met formally yet may be confused about my standards. Given an attractive body, I doubt I'd have the heart to turn anyone down."

"You are such a humanitarian." Sam smirked.

"To the core."

"So? If I bring Lila around to meet you tomorrow, will you sign her? If you do, I am sure we can provide you with a diverting display of her skills."

I grunted, suddenly exhausted once more and I wanted to just go to sleep.

"Fine, bring her by. She needs to have a convivial box ready for tasting, though. Be sure to tell her that. I will fuck her after I sign her."

"And she'll be happy for you to fuck her. I am sure."

I was less sure.

Sam pitched off the bed and slipped out the door and away.

I turned off the light, considering my sex object but decided I'd delay to the morrow and see what happened.

The day brought an unintended consequence from settling accounts. The object of my vengeance did as so many losers do, he turned his wrath on an innocent associate. I spent the early morning spinning a solution to save her little company from his thrashing death throes. By nine the storm had passed and I was turning my mind back from the orgy of money to the orgy of bodies and the women of Holdingsfield with which I intended to populate my own personal diversion.

In pursuit of that, I called Jake Masters to see if my special tables had arrived and if he had the grand piano I'd ordered. He wasn't available but an assistant informed me the piano was in but only two examples of the tables would arrive that afternoon. That was just as I wished because I wanted to use them to demonstrate my idea, to Masters, to Jeri Lewis, oh, and to Eve, really to Eve. I hung up after telling him I'd be down to look at them that afternoon. I was waiting to address a little matter and her friend. I had not long to wait.

The doorbell rang.

I was slow to the door. Jennifer scampered out of the kitchen and was reaching for the door. I stopped her with a word. I didn't want her scaring off Ms. Lopez, if indeed she was at the door.

She was, with Samantha Uliss but also a third woman who surprised me. Bethlynn stood behind them off the porch and half-turned away from me when I opened the door. My eyes went to her because she was dressed in a beautiful blue dress that was see-through. Her body ghosted in it and lured my eyes.

Sam snorted at me as my eyes remained focused past her.

"Fine. So we're under-dressed. I didn't bother to mention that signing your puss over to a man was a formal affair."

The woman with her, a disarmingly beautiful Latina glanced at Sam and then smiled when my eyes touched hers. Otherwise she didn't move. I regarded her for a moment, the button-up shirt with the tails tied through the front loops of her tight, short shorts, raggedy blue jeans that had seen better days but had never been better filled. Sam wore a short skirt and a plain white blouse that revealed she had no bra on. The dark tips of her tits peaked the blouse, showing darkly in the white fabric, dark and proud. Her pale legs reminded me of palm trees topped with the flared skirt and what I knew to be between them. Her high heels made her appear taller, cock level, if you know what I mean.

"May I help you?" I said softly, for some reason not wanting Bethlynn to hear. My unconscious reasoning appeared genius when the woman moved closer.

Sam cocked her head for a moment but then her eyes flickered as she recognized that the matter could not be presumed to be pre-negotiated and that my stance had to be one of surprise and confusion.

"Oh, uh, Mr. Gale, I'm Samantha Uliss. This, this is Lila Lopez. She..."

I nearly chuckled. Dear Samantha hadn't thought her gambit through properly and she was face to face with the reality that she could hardly exclude herself from the ploy she had engineered for Mrs. Lopez. Lila Lopez's husband had run off sometime ago, disappearing without a word. We didn't try to trace him once we'd settled that he left behind no power of attorney or control of assets of any kind. He'd left for his own reasons that we left to him once it was clear that Lila retained full ownership, and the responsibility for debts, of her holdings, which were rapidly approaching zero, liquid assets, her net assets were already negative enough to bring her to my front door voluntarily. Samantha in her curious eagerness to insert herself into my business, forgot that my business focused on inserting things into her.

"She...and I, well, well we want to know if you are interested in having...uh...having...no, making us...."

I did laugh then and Samantha glared at me. It was hilarious to see this slight slip of a woman swell up with shame and umbrage from her own arrogance.

"We want to sign a contract with you." Lila spoke, her melodious voice silenced Sam's stumbling.

I loved the collective, plural pronoun and the look on Sam's face as she realized that she was caught in her own net, hoisted on her own petard as it were, was indeed priceless. Lila had committed her to me even as Sam sought to commit Lila. Elegant, I thought. I'd need to let her escape or this wouldn't be repeated and I thought I sensed Sam's delight in wrangling women into my corral for my simple branding.

Bethlynn took another couple steps closer. She stepped up onto the porch behind the other two women. Lila continued.

"We, we are willing to have sex with you if, if you can delay our foreclosures."

The anger and alarm on Sam's face amused me. I determined to make it worse, perhaps much worse. Suddenly, however, I shifted what I'd been thinking, somewhat radically but only by changing a number from two to three. I put my eyes on Bethlynn, peering out from behind her bangs at us.

"Are you included in this? Do you want to fuck to keep your house?" The time for demure dissimulation was over. The spades were called and no thesaurus was needed.

Bethlynn stared, not responding.

"She doesn't talk much." Sam whispered. "She has a lisp that makes her sound like a gay cross-dresser or dumb as a stump."

Lila had the grace to glare at Sam, condemnation in her eyes.

Bethlynn, however, was not prone to bowing to such social pressure. She spoke up, her voice a breathy puff in the morning that she apparently hoped removed the burr from her lisp. It helped only a little, rather than removing the lisp, accented it and together with her voluptuous body, made her seem sexier.

"I will fuck youth." She said, nearly whispering. "For money. To pay my billsth, athter the contracth ith thigned."

Sam's chin lifted and she looked at me.

"See? I told you."

I smiled. My idea germinated and my cock grew. About time, it seemed to say with a hurt, neglected tone.

"I'll be back in a while." I called over my shoulder at Jennifer. The door closed on her reply. I shouldered between Sam and her charge. "Come with me." I said.