Tom Billionaire Ch. 02

"AAAAAAAAAUUUUUUGHHHHHH!" she screamed once more, feeling me spray her down like an exploding fire hydrant.

And then we were done.

My office was not cold. Our climate control was too good for that to ever happen. Yet I swore I could see vapors of heat rising up from Cassandra's blonde hair as my own cheek rested against her back. And together, our bodies rose and fell with our heaving gasps for air.

"I said ten minutes!" Ashlyn complained from behind us.

I blinked and raised my head, turning around to see that my girlfriend was standing in the doorway. I paused to collect myself before planting my hands on the desk and pushing myself back up to a standing position. Then slowly, I withdrew my cock from Cassandra's cunt and asked, "And how long ago did you arrive at that door?"

Ashlyn blushed. "Uh, well... just a minute ago."

"Thirty minutes. I was right," Cassandra sighed.

"Yeah, but we forgot to factor in cleaning back up and getting out to the helipad," I noted.

Ashlyn giggled. "Doesn't matter. I'm not in a rush. Besides, that looks positively yummy." She eyeballed the creamy dollop of cum that was starting to leak out of Cassandra's red pussy lips.

Smiling, I waved Ashlyn in, and the redhead sank to her knees to begin hoovering out the mingled fluids of lust swimming around inside Cassandra's honeypot.

"Just don't dawdle," I cautioned her. "If you do, I'm going to get excited. And if I get excited, I'm not letting you out of this office until I can see Cassandra returning you the favor."

Ashlyn giggled and pulled her head back, lifting up a glob of spunk on the tip of your tongue. "Hmm, maybe I _should_ dawdle."

I just grinned, wolfishly undressing my girlfriend with my eyes. "Fine by me."

****

*-- MANHATTAN, NEW YORK --*

Upon arrival on the roof of the Jonathan Kwong building, complete with its own "JKE" logo on the side, we waited to let the helicopter's rotor blades die down before exiting. The girls didn't like their hair and clothing to be mussed up by the downdraft. And even with the extra wait, it was much faster than driving from Montauk.

In the elevator, I kissed Ashlyn goodbye, tasting remnants of Cassandra's pussy still on her lips. My supermodel girlfriend had not "dawdled" in the home office. But we found time for a quickie threesome in the helicopter anyways. So I sent Ashlyn off with my creamy cum leaking down her thighs and her panties next to Cassandra's in my pocket.

A few minutes later, I strode into my boardroom with the full confidence of someone who owns the place. After all, I did. Quickly, I settled into my chair at the head of the table while Cassandra took the seat to my right.

"Report," I stated.

Robert Sharpley, VP of Acquisitions and father of Jada, looked up at me quizzically before turning his gaze to Cassandra. "You didn't tell him?"

My assistant blushed, but quickly schooled her face. "Something else came up," she stated neutrally. "I believe you were on the call when he hung up the line."

Now it was my turn to blush. Oh, so THAT'S what she was doing this morning in the home office. I shrugged, "My fault. You can tell me now."

Sharpley looked around at the other Directors and Vice Presidents before breaking into a wide grin. "It's a done deal," he stated proudly. "Hollister is caving."

I grinned as well and reclined back into the soft padding of my chair. I steepled my fingers and let a little chuckle rise in my throat. I'd done some big deals in the past, but this one was the biggest by far. It was going to cost me more than the GNP of several small nations, but we already had companies lined up to buy off pieces of Hollister's empire.

The math was simple: I was going to spend 4 *billion* dollars to buy up all of Hollister's companies. I was going to sell them off for 4.6 billion. And when the dust settled, JKE stood to profit *_six hundred million_* dollars in one fell swoop.

Like I'd told Taylor: different thrills.

Matthews, my VP of Sales sat up and gestured to an administrative assistant, who was standing by the projector, and she called up the latest slides. Holding up the laser pointer, Matthews then started clicking and summarizing. "Escrow accounts are already set up. Loans are already established. The buyers have already signed acceptance, pending the transfer of assets to us." The poor guy looked so excited by the magnitude of it all that he was red-faced and quivering. He dabbed at his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief.

Sharpley stepped in. "Preliminary work is already done. We'll exchange agreements and handle all the necessary documents in escrow. And we expect to be ready for signatures by Monday."

Nodding my head, I smiled and stood up. "Gentlemen, thank you very much." I grinned and then a light popped into my head. The next day was a Saturday. So extending my arms out, I stated expansively, "Keep your schedules clear tomorrow night. I'm inviting everyone to my place to celebrate."

****

*-- MONTAUK, NEW YORK --*

I was passing by a window and peeked out into the courtyard, which was spectacularly lit up against the night sky. The circular driveway was absolutely packed with limousines and high-end cars, right up to the concrete fountain in the center. We'd only given people a day's notice, but I guess when you're invited to a party at Jonathan Kwong's house, you drop everything to attend.

Many of the guests were my executives. After all, the official reason for the party was to celebrate this massive deal for Jonathan Kwong Enterprises. But they weren't the only guests. For one, some of my execs brought their spouses or girlfriends. But some of them didn't, or were otherwise single. And most of them were pretty glad they were flying solo this evening, because Taylor had *also* invited HER friends.

As I came down the main stairwell and moved into the expansive formal living room, I saw that many of my execs were already introducing themselves to Taylor's friends. My VP of Strategic Marketing was chatting up a comely blonde. My Director of Sales Strategy was with a lissome brunette. And even my VP of Human Resources, Cindy Cornette, was chatting up a muscle-bound Calvin Klein model.

And JKE execs and fashion models weren't even the only guests in attendance. We had a few friends over just for the fun of it, and the instant I spied a few of them, I did my best to go straight over.

Of course, when you're Jonathan Kwong, Billionaire, at a house party hosted by Jonathan Kwong, Billionaire, it's impossible to go more than five feet without having to stop and be greeted by someone. Every time I turned around, I had to shake someone's hand, get a hearty slap on the back, and crack jokes about how to spend the abundant amount of money I was making on this deal. Yes, everyone involved stood to get some seriously fat bonuses, but as the principal, *I* was going to pocket the majority of that six hundred million dollar windfall.

Twenty minutes and... oh, about twenty feet later, I finally made it through to my friends. Kaitlyn Reynolds was the first to step forward and hug me along with a peck on the cheek. Rebecca Raymonde was next, her taut muscles squeezing the life out of me with her embrace. Then, I got my hand crushed by her fiancé Jack's handshake. Grinning wryly, I shook out my hand to restore its circulation, and finally turned to Jeff Lee.

Mercifully, he didn't shake my hand. Instead, the handsome young man just clapped me on the shoulder and commented, "Every now and again I find myself wishing I could be in your shoes. But then I watch you try to run that gauntlet of stuffed shirts and I'm glad I'm not. Your palm must be chafed by now."

Still stretching out my fingers, I sighed. "Something like that."

Jeff finally just clapped my back. "Poor guy. I guess you'll need some gorgeous young plaything to soothe your aches and worries with mindblowing sex."

"You read my mind," I chuckled. Straightening myself up, I smiled and asked the group, "Having a good time? I know these guys aren't a part of our usual crowd." I waved in the vague direction of all the middle-aged executives.

"Don't worry about it," Kaitlyn piped up, leaning against her boyfriend and wrapping her arm around his waist. "We know a lot of Taylor's and Ashlyn's friends anyways. And any excuse to come by and visit the kids is great."

"Oh. You already saw JJ and Joey?"

Rebecca nodded. "They've gotten so much bigger in the last month. Which reminds me..." My personal trainer stepped forward and poked me... hard... in my left pectoral muscle. "You've been skipping workouts. You're getting out of shape, Pillsbury Dough Boy."

I grimaced and rubbed my chest in mild pain, then gestured around at the whole party. "I've been busy. But now that the deal is done, I'll have more free time. I _promise_ we'll get back to work."

Rebecca glanced at her fiancé with a sly grin before looking back at me. "We'd better. I've missed you, John."

Jack added with a sly grin, "She has. We love each other to pieces, but it's been a while since you guys threw a Playroom party."

"I'll say," Jeff mock complained. Kaitlyn elbowed him in the ribs.

Just then, a distinguished mid-40s gentleman stepped up to me, a gorgeous late-20s trophy wife by his side. "Jonathan, allow me to personally congratulate you."

I obviously recognized my VP of Finance, George Karr, but I didn't remember his new wife's name. Now would've been a good time to have Cassandra by my side, as she would have sensed it and whispered her name into my ear right away. Instead, I just smiled and reached out to shake his hand. "Congratulate me? George, I couldn't have done this without you convincing all those banks to shell out a cool four billion in liquid capital."

He chuckled appropriately and then turned to the chestnut brunette with silicone tits by his side. "My wife, Trina."

"Pleasure." I shook her hand, noticing that she had her eyes zeroed in on some of the nearby fashion models. Casually, I commented, "Don't worry about my wife's co-workers. They know to keep their mitts off a married man."

It was something of a lie. Half of the models I knew were gold-digging sluts with absolutely no compunctions against poaching a man, but I wanted to put my VP's new wife at ease.

But Trina smirked and looked around. "Oh, don't worry. I *like* to party." The young brunette had a twinkle in her eye as she said this, and not-so-discreetly let her eyes run up and down my body. At about the same time, George was scanning the room with something of a wolfish expression on his face. The pair of them kept drifting their glances toward Stephanie, a tall brunette who was close friends with Ashlyn. And since I happened to know (rather intimately) that Stephanie was one of those girls who DIDN'T really care about keeping her mitts off a married man, I decided to go ahead and help things along.

"Well in that case, let me introduce you." Grinning, I took Trina by the hand and led her and George over to where the object of their desire was chatting with a few other model friends.

"Stephanie, Kathryn, Jeanine," I greeted each girl by name. "Allow me introduce George Karr and his wife, Trina. I'd bore you with details about what he does for my company, but I think you would be more entertained if George told you about that condo tower he just bought in Miami's South Beach."

The girls twittered. Trina batted her eyelashes, and I left them to work out the details. I looked back for my friends, but they'd also moved on to other conversations.

On the other hand, Rebecca's comment about how big the kids had gotten in the past month put JJ and Joey at the forefront of my mind. I hadn't seen them since before I went upstairs to get dressed for this party. And I checked my watch to confirm the time. 8:30pm. They should JUST be going to sleep right about now.

Rather than walk the gauntlet of guests all the way back to the front entrance, I instead started looking around for one of the side exits, and spotting one, headed straight there. But on the way, a shock of copper-red hair caught my attention, not to mention the fiery red cocktail dress, and my eyes were drawn over to the sight of my gorgeous Ashlyn.

My eyes were also drawn to the male hand that was currently patting her ass. The hand even gave the globe a little pinch, and as my blood started to boil, I tracked the hand upwards to find that it was attached to a devastatingly handsome young man.

He looked a little taller than me, and was broader in the chest. His dark hair had a light curl to it, and was slightly mussed in a casual way. He had a chiseled jaw, and deep-set eyes. The guy was a first-class hunk, and I found my teeth starting to grind as I watched him rather intimately hold my girlfriend in his arms.

I fought to keep my impulses under control. After all, Ashlyn and I had a pretty open relationship. I'd let Taylor play around with her boy-toys for a while, although she'd given them up after we got married and started having kids. And even though Ashlyn and I shared a special love, as well as an unbreakable bond in our daughter Joey, I still made clear that she was free to pursue a relationship outside of ours if she so desired.

But there was an understood requirement that I be informed if she decided to go down that path. She was still MY girlfriend, and any guy she wanted to dally with had to be vetted and approved. THIS guy... whoever he was... had NOT been so approved.

Still, I didn't want to cause a scene. So stomaching my unease, I put on a welcoming smile and sauntered over. "Hey, Ash..."

"Hey, Johnny." Her blue eyes flashed as she looked up at me and stood up straight. Similarly, the dark-haired hunk stood up straight and removed his arm from my girlfriend's waist. "This is Terry. He's an underwear model."

"I can see that." I looked Terry up and down, noting his near-perfect body. Feeling my gaze, the guy smirked rather proudly and flexed just a little bit more.

Wanting to change the subject, I jerked a thumb back toward the side door. "It's 8:30. I was thinking to go say goodnight to the rugrats."

"Oh! Good idea!" Ashlyn patted Terry on a bicep, and then slipped her arm around mine. We said goodbye and then headed over to the side door. But just before we got there, I glanced back and caught Terry staring rather intensely at Ashlyn's departing form.

Once through the door and into the relative privacy of the hallway, I sighed in annoyance. "So tell me about Terry," I half-growled in annoyance.

Ashlyn looked surprised by my tone. "Terry? What about him?"

"Tell me why he was copping a feel of your ass," I stated coldly.

Ashlyn's eyes popped open, a trace of fear in her irises. But a second later, she barked a laugh and started giggling.

"What?" I frowned.

Still giggling, Ashlyn covered her mouth and shook her head at me. "Are you jealous?"

I grimaced. "Well... a little. I mean, we talked about you seeing other guys, it's just that I thought we also discussed that you would run things by me before you started-"

"He's gay, Johnny."

"What?"

"Terry." Ashlyn jerked a thumb back at the now-closed door. "He's gay."

"Huh? Then why was he checking you out? I looked back when we were leaving and he definitely had that dreamy look on his face."

Ashlyn grinned and then punched me in the shoulder. "You dufus. He was checking YOU out, not me."

"Me???"

She giggled. "Yes, YOU. How could he not, after you practically undressed him with your eyes?"

"I did *not*."

"Sure you did. Right after I told you he was an underwear model."

"Well... I..." I fumbled a bit before sighing in resignation. I _had_ been looking him up and down with intensive scrutiny, just not for the reasons Ashlyn... and Terry perhaps... believed. "It's just that Rebecca told me I was getting out of shape. 'Pillsbury Dough Boy'," I muttered.

Ashlyn laughed and wrapped herself around me. "Well *I* think you're still hunky enough to be an underwear model, okay?"

I smiled and hugged my girlfriend tightly to my side. But then one last image popped into my head. "So... if he's gay... why *was* Terry feeling up your ass?"

Ashlyn shrugged. "Sometimes *I* worry if I'm still in good shape. I was complaining that my ass got fat after getting pregnant, and that it would never be the same. He was fondling it just to tell me he still thought it was a gorgeous, firm ass. And gay guys know their asses."

I reached back and caressed Ashlyn's left globe, squeezing it for my own confirmation. "He's right. You've still got a fabulous ass, Ash."

"And it's yours, Johnny," she breathed in a husky tone, her eyes glittering.

"Mine," I growled, my eyes afire in response.

She giggled happily, then briefly got up to her tiptoes and pecked my cheek. "Maybe I'll come visit you and Taylor tonight."

I grinned. "You do that."

And then we'd arrived at the nursery.

****

There were actually two nurseries. Joey and JJ spent a lot of time together, sharing mealtimes and playtimes and play areas. But they had separate bedrooms, so that if one baby woke up screaming, he/she wouldn't wake the other.

Ashlyn and I went into Joey's bedroom first. The 1-year-old was in the final cranky stages before going to sleep. Evelyn, our full-time nanny, was holding her and pacing around the dimly-lit room. Joey was squirming in her grasp, not wanting to be held. But when Evelyn set her in the crib, Joey rolled over to the railings and tried to climb out. And when Evelyn set her on the floor, she tugged at Evelyn's legs to be picked up.

Ashlyn quickly held out her arms in offering to hold the baby. Joey resisted her mother at first, pushing her arms out to try and free herself once Evelyn handed her over. But a moment later, Joey calmed down and set her cheek against Ashlyn's shoulder. I watched with a smile as the gorgeous redhead, still wearing her cocktail dress, cooed soothingly and patted her baby's back.

I didn't want to disturb them once Joey got to this point. I knew the little girl would fall asleep soon. So I simply leaned in and kissed my daughter's cheek. And after pecking Ashlyn as well, I slipped outside.

Alone now, I went to the other nursery. Jada was standing over JJ's crib, patting his back while the little boy drowsily hung at the edge between wakefulness and sleep. I hung back, not wanting to distract Jada or give JJ any reason to get up. And after a few more minutes, the young nanny backed away from the crib.

As she did so, I stepped forward and peeked over the railing. JJ was facedown, his arms splayed out to the sides. His mouth repeatedly pursed and relaxed, as if he was dreaming of suckling on a nipple. I could relate. And the squishy noise his mouth made was the only sound in the room.

"He's so cute when he's sleeping," I whispered quietly in the dimness.

"He's cute all the time," the young blonde commented.

Still staring at my only son, I simply nodded. Together, Jada and I just watched JJ, enjoying the peacefulness of his slumber. It was quite relaxing to watch a baby sleep, and I felt a lot of tension from the past few weeks of negotiations start to roll off my shoulders.

There was a quiet whisper of fabric to my right, and I turned my head just in time for Jada's lips to meet mine. The lissome 20-year-old pressed herself against me, tilting her head up and rising on her tiptoes to reach me. She wrapped an arm around the back of my neck, and sighed happily as our tongues speared out and found one another.

But a few seconds later, I pulled my head back and shook my head in the negative. "I have to get back downstairs."

With only half her face illuminated by the nightlight, the young blonde pouted up at me. "We still have time, don't we?"

"Your *father* is downstairs."

"So? We've been over this. He already knows."