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The Rich Old Man And My Wife
by StoryAce (storyace@hotmail.com)

***

A rich man decides that a guy's wife would make the 
prefect breeder to provide him with a healthy, smart and 
goodlooking child. And he could more than afford the 
service. (MF, voy, oral, anal, cuck, huml, preg)

***

The first time I met him was at a staff party; everyone 
was pretty shocked when he turned up, he was a 
billionaire media mogul after all, and we were just a 
small newspaper he'd obtained when he bought a bigger 
outfit in Chicago that owned us.

But there he was, in the flesh, right in our grimy 
little office.

He spent most of the evening talking to my wife.

Now Joyce was never a woman who stopped traffic, she 
wasn't in the same league as the models he was normally 
associated with, or the supermodel he'd recently 
married. My wife was [and still is] a beautiful woman, 
but it's her personality and intelligence that sets her 
apart.

"What were you talking to him about last night?" I asked 
her the following evening, the first time we had time to 
talk.

"Lots of things. He's such a nice man, Rick; and so 
interesting."

"Did he say anything about the future of the paper?"

"Not really. He asked me a lot of questions though."

"What kind of questions?"

"About the staff mainly, but he was really nice."

"You said that."

"I told him about your ideas to help the circulation. I 
think he liked them."

We were still talking about him when there was a knock 
on the apartment door. I opened it to find Him standing 
there; Him, our new owner, my boss, the billionaire 
entrepreneur, alone at my very humble door!

He offered me his hand; "Rick isn't it?" he asked.

"I... yes," I said, stunned.

He shook my hand and entered. I wondered how he'd gotten 
through the downstairs door without getting buzzed in; I 
never did find out.

The big man looked around our small place, until his 
eyes settled on Joyce, who seemed fairly flustered.

"I wanted to talk to you in private," he said. "Mind if 
I sit down?"

"Of course not, p-please..." I stammered, still not 
believing he was here. "Can I get you anything? Wine, 
juice?"

"A glass of wine would be nice," he said, seating 
himself on our sofa. "Sit with me, dear." He said to my 
wife, patting the cushion next to himself, "I enjoyed 
our conversation last night."

I poured us each a glass of wine, feeling confused and 
threatened, yet helpless.

"I came by the newspaper last night to announce my 
intention to shut it down," the big man said, putting 
his arm around Joyce's shoulders; she just looked 
straight ahead into empty space, her eyes big and round, 
like an animal on a lonely country road shocked by the 
headlights of an unexpected truck.

"I'm sure you know that the losses it runs are 
significant," he continued, "But then I started talking 
to Joyce here, about all the people involved. You all 
seem so nice; well, what's the point of all my power and 
wealth if I can't give a second chance every now and 
then."

I struggled to come up with some words; I'm a writer, 
not a speaker. "But sir, I'm just a junior editor. Why 
have you come to me?"

His powerful hand clamped my wife's bare shoulder; she 
was wearing a simple strapped smock. Joyce just stared 
at me in shock, as if seeking some direction from me; 
but I had none to give her.

"Because of your wife, Rick. I'm very impressed with 
her; a PhD in mathematics is really an achievement. Now 
she's told me of your energy and ideas. I like the idea 
of throwing a new man into the ring, giving someone a 
chance to make a difference. Perhaps you can turn the 
paper around, perhaps you can preserve all those jobs 
and the families that depend on them. The position pays 
well, so Joyce could stay home and work on her theorems. 
Would you like that?"

My throat was dry; was this a joke? "Yes; yes sir I 
would."

"Excellent. I like to do something really good every now 
and then; I also like to do something bad on occasion. 
Sometimes, I do both simultaneously."

And with that, he shifted his hand to the back of 
Joyce's head, and twisted her face around towards him. 
He wrapped his other hand around her neck for good 
measure, and he kissed her, he kissed my lovely young 
wife on her mouth. Her eyes bulged in shock, but she let 
him kiss her, making absolutely no effort to stop him. 
How could she, after what he'd just said?

I stared in helpless shock; what should I do? A hundred 
jobs, our local paper, my future, or my wife? He was a 
hundred times the man I was, and we all knew it. A 
million dollars was pocket change to him, the business I 
worked for was just a nuisance.

"Now here's how this would work." he said, breaking the 
kiss, and running his hand behind Joyce's back. "You'll 
do an article about me, you'll accompany me around for a 
few weeks. It will be mainly complimentary, with just 
enough criticism to make it seem balanced."

He brought his hands to my wife's thin pale shoulders 
and pulled the straps of her smock down before I 
realized he had just unzipped her dress; her small firm 
breasts stood proud, the pink nipples erect in the cold 
air of the room. Her face was blank with confusion, and 
I guess mine was probably pretty much the same.

"Your publishing director is retiring in a month anyway. 
I'll promote you to the post, everyone will say it was 
because of the article, no one will ever guess the 
truth."

"And what is the truth?" I asked.

He turned to me for a moment and smiled, before tugging 
her dress right out from under my astonished wife and 
threading it over her long thin legs.

"I think you know the answer to that, Rick. Let's not 
discuss the specifics, all right?"

I looked at Joyce, and she looked back at me, her big 
innocent eyes begging for an answer to this conundrum; 
how could we agree? Yet how could we refuse?

In the next few seconds, his shoes and trousers were 
off, he pulled my wife's panties off, her milky pale 
legs were splayed out, and right before my bulging eyes, 
he was holding a large and stiff old penis against her 
groin.

"Relax my dear." He coaxed her persuasively, "Just relax 
and lean back."

"But I couldn't!" she objected feebly.

"Of course you can, my dear," he answered her, the full 
force of his considerable personality focused on her. I 
was simply ignored, as if I was no longer there.

My tongue was swollen and parched, my limbs had gone 
weak; what kind of a man were we dealing with? who could 
do such a thing and expect to get away with it?

He could.

Joyce is a delicate creature, with thin limbs and long 
slightly wavy orange hair. Her complexion was smooth as 
a baby's; at 24, she was still asked for ID when we went 
to clubs. Her slim fine youth was in stark contrast to 
his large grey middle-aged bulk. Her innocent beauty was 
the opposite of his corrupted desire.

He lifted her long legs in either arm, opening her and 
pushing her slightly back. She stared up at him 
silently, as helpless and stunned as I was.

I felt a weird numbness, like when I'd had a bad car 
accident once. I had not yet acknowledged what was 
happening, that an overwhelming force had suddenly 
crashed into our lives, and was now taking my wife right 
before my eyes.

On his knees on our carpet, the powerful man maneuvered 
his stiff rod to Joyce's spread pink snatch. She stared 
at him silently, her mouth hanging open, the tension of 
this weird moment painted across her face.

His penis rested on her for a moment, then he pushed his 
hips forward, and the tip entered her; before my eyes, 
my young wife was being defiled by the billionaire.

"This is wonderful!" the media mogul exclaimed as he 
worked his bottom tighter into the valley of Joyce's 
smooth spread thighs. She looked at me for a moment, her 
clear eyes impossible to read, then looked away.

"There's just no feeling like this in the world; total 
domination, complete power, to take a young wife while 
her helpless husband watches." He said, sliding his big 
stiff member right into her. I realized that there must 
be some lubrication coming from one of them.

"I have thirty-five thousand employees, I have dinners 
with world leaders, but this is true power. How old are 
you, Rick?"

"Thirty five."

"And have you ever watched your lovely wife with another 
man before?"

"N-no."

"Well that's good. It was once normal for a chieftain or 
a king to have his way with whichever woman he desired, 
but things have changed."

He was not obese, but he was fairly overweight. I knew 
he was past sixty, he'd had several wives, several 
children, and some grandchildren. His big ass moved up 
and down, driving his big cock into Joyce's body as he 
spoke.

"This is something primal, Rick." He continued, "I'm 
alpha male right now, I'm having your woman and you've 
chosen not to oppose me. As you watch, you will probably 
feel aroused; this is nothing to be ashamed of. Your 
instinct is to have her as soon as I'm through, so that 
your sperm will have an at least equal chance."

My wife was sprawled on the sofa below him, one leg 
trailing on the floor and the other thrown over his 
pudgy thighs; she stared into his eyes with a strange 
expression, as if unsure what she felt herself. As if 
she was ashamed of her own feelings, her unspoken 
consent to his desire and my utter humiliation.

"The thing you should know is that your wife is more 
than willing, Rick." He said as he thrust himself into 
her, "She was flirting with me for hours yesterday. You 
have to realize what I represent, I'm the ultimate 
successful male. She's flattered that I should choose 
her, that a man like me would compromise myself this way 
for her. Yes, I'm old and not in perfect physical 
condition, but I'm top dog."

He loomed above her, his hands on her slim hips; her 
knee fell to the horizontal, and I could see right 
between them, I could see her sweet pink snatch and the 
stiff old cock slipping easily in and out of it. She 
looked so sweet and young below him, so fine, like a 
child. It was too horrible to watch, too fascinating to 
look away from.

He stopped for a moment, and taking her head in his 
hands, kissed her tenderly for a minute before resuming.

"You're a lovely woman, Joyce, but what really gets me 
is your intelligence. The idea of mating with a really 
brainy woman is totally appealing to me. Tell me, do you 
love Rick?"

He stopped fucking her while he awaited her answer.

Joyce spoke for the first time since this madness had 
begun, several minutes and an eternity before; "Yes... 
yes I do."

"Excellent! And you Rick, do you love her as well?"

"Of course," I said, my voice sounding weirdly normal.

My employer started up again, banging my wife hard at 
the end of each stroke, so her body shuddered at each 
impact.

"You love her even at this moment, as you watch me 
defile her, as she succumbs to me?"

"Yes!"

"Say it again, tell her. Go on, tell her!"

"I love you, Joyce," I said, as my eyes began to run and 
my voice choked.

Her hands gripped his wide shoulders, her skinny legs 
wrapped around his middle, and her breath came in short 
sharp gasps; her long orange hair fell over the edge of 
the sofa onto the floor, her green eyes stared at the 
face of the old billionaire she was coupled with; he 
fucked her hard, his big body dominating her totally.

My wife came, groaning with the intensity of the 
sensation; the conflict, the outrage, the pleasure, the 
passion. He groaned as well, and holding her tightly, 
ejaculated deep inside her.

"Fantastic," he said after a minute's quiet. He kissed 
my wife again and sat up, his cock pulling out of her. 
"There's nothing in the world that can top that, and 
believe me, if there was I'd know about it." He said.

Joyce lifted her leg over him and got to her feet. She 
looked at me with tears brimming in her eyes, and 
silently went into the bedroom.

"Ok, Rick, here's the deal," he said, making no move to 
dress himself.

"You, and your wife of course, will spend a few weeks 
traveling around with me and my entourage while you 
write your piece on the new owner of your paper. Is she 
on the pill?"

"She has an IUD."

"All right. That'll have to come out as soon as 
possible. You can catch up with me in a few weeks."

"Wait a minute! You want to make my wife pregnant!"

"Of course Rick. Why do you think I find her so 
attractive? I want fit children, smart children.

"As a wealthy man, I want to diversify my assets. As a 
father, I want the same thing. I don't have the time to 
raise and love all the children I'd like to have; so 
this is the deal. I place my child in your house. No one 
will know, you will bring him or her up as your own. 
That's it, that's all. I know, you know, Joyce knows, no 
one else. I keep your paper open, you're in charge, good 
salary, respect. Joyce doesn't have to get that job in 
the city to pay her student loan, she can stay home with 
her computer and our child, thinking deep thoughts, 
perhaps solving a theorem or two, while being a mother."

I stared at him; even after what had just happened, this 
was way too far.

"Forget it! No way. I know you're a big guy, but we have 
our pride too! We'll get by somehow."

"Rick," Joyce spoke from the bedroom door. "We should do 
it."

"What? Are you crazy?"

"I want to do it, it's a good arrangement."

She was now wearing a short robe; her hair was 
disheveled, her feet were bare, but her green eyes were 
clear.

Janet was a stunning woman, and the big man's PA. She 
was about 5'9", six feet in her heels. Her complexion 
was perfect and pale, her eyes clear and blue, her hair 
very blond. Joyce seemed almost dull next to Janet; 
although the PA was dressed for business in a dark skirt 
and white blouse, she reeked of an efficient glamour. 
She took my wife away to a gynecologist for a complete 
checkup and to have her birth control removed.

We heard nothing from the man himself, but after another 
couple of weeks, Janet turned up again, and took us and 
our luggage in a limo to the airport. We boarded a 
private jet, and were flown to New York. Another Limo 
took us to the Waldorf Astoria hotel, where we were 
booked into a suite.

That night, the mating of my wife and the affluent man 
who had bought us began for real.

Janet came by our suite first. She brought some things 
for Joyce to wear; black pumps and stockings, a pair of 
diamond ear studs, a bottle of perfume. She helped my 
wife get ready, fixing her hair and telling her what a 
wonderful man our employer was. I wondered why he didn't 
breed with Janet instead; she seemed pretty suitable. 
But then of course for all I knew, he had.

He let himself into our suite with his own key. He shook 
hands with me first.

"Good to see you again Rick, how are you?" he said 
affably. "Janet. Ah, Joyce; I've been thinking of little 
else for these last few weeks, how are you feeling?"

He took both her hands and looked down at her in 
apparent concern.

"I'm fine, thanks," she said. She was wearing a short 
silk robe over her nakedness, but the sexy nylons and 
shoes were very much in evidence.

"Excellent," he said. "Let's go into the bedroom. You 
too, Rick. I want you to be there."

"Why?" I asked despairingly; the reality was bad enough 
without having to actually witness it.

"Because it's more fun that way," he said with a laugh, 
leading my wife through the door.

"Sit there and watch," he instructed, waving at a chair 
opposite the bed. I sat down as he gently removed the 
robe from Joyce's shoulders, as they tentatively kissed 
each other.

She was small in his arms; tiny and young, vulnerable. 
We were just ordinary people, we stood no chance against 
his charisma, his confidence, his awesome wealth. He'd 
pressed us into a corner; we could save the paper, the 
jobs of all our friends, we could jump into the life we 
wanted. All we had to do was let him impregnate Joyce. 
Just pretend that his child is mine; the child would be 
mine actually, I would be the psychological father. All 
He wanted was the biological part. And the sex of 
course.

Joyce was on the bed now, and he was lowering his head 
between her thighs. He pushed her knees farther apart, 
spreading her so wide that I could see his tongue stroke 
her gleaming pink vaginal lips.

Joyce shuddered, clutching at his head, squirming at his 
attentions; he didn't have to pleasure her. He could 
have just done the deed and gotten back to his very busy 
schedule, but he clearly intended to take his time.

"I adore the taste of woman, don't you?" he said to me.

"I like the taste of my woman," I answered.

"The way Joyce wraps her thigh around my neck is sweet 
too," he said, reaching behind himself to stroke her 
foot as he licked her some more.

"There's just one problem," he said, looking up from his 
task again; "The smell on your mouth can be offensive to 
some women. My wife won't kiss me after I've been in her 
box. Take over for me, Rick, while I rinse my mouth."

"Take over?"

"Come on, man! She's your wife after all, keep her warm 
for a minute."

He gestured at her orange framed hole, the entrance of 
her womb, soon to be filled with his seed.

Her pale thighs were spread wide in invitation; against 
my better judgment, I stepped to the bed and lowered my 
head to my wife's waiting clit. I didn't have the 
gumption to disobey him, even here in the privacy of the 
suite.

She moaned, clamping my head between her legs. I pushed 
my tongue into her, tasting her sweetness while I still 
could.

After a minute, I wondered what had become of the other 
man; I looked up to see that he was back already. He was 
kissing Joyce on her mouth as I did her lower parts. 
There seemed to be something wrong with that, so I 
pulled away, back to my chair.

He rolled into the gap I'd left, filling the vacuum 
between her thighs with his bulk; I saw her reach down 
to guide him into herself.

"Ah, that feels good," he said to her with a smile, "How 
is it for you, my dear?"

"Wonderful," she said. "It's really nice."

"And you Rick, are you alright over there?" he asked 
considerately, "Why don't you pull it out and please 
yourself while you watch?"

It did feel good to have my cock in my hand, to stroke 
myself while they did it together. It was a humiliation 
of course, but it hardly mattered; there was no lower to 
go, so I figured I might as well take my small pleasure.

He wasn't very talkative this time, which was a relief 
really. He just held my lovely wife tenderly as he 
screwed her energetically, his big barrel of a body 
moving above her, pushing his big stiff cock in and out 
of her, readying her to receive his sperm.

Joyce began to come; he pumped her harder. She began to 
whimper, clutching him tightly; he stiffened, she cried 
out, he held her tight and grunted in satisfaction as he 
filled her waiting tubes with his premium sperm.

I held my stiff dick as they finished; he turned and 
looked at me. "Joyce darling, would you like to take 
Rick in your mouth? He's looking a bit left out."

She looked at me sadly, her big clear eyes regarding my 
lonely dick. She nodded her assent. I went to the bed, 
and she sucked me off as he watched.

It was a busy few weeks for me, I had to follow him 
around all the time, staying out of the way and making 
notes for my article. Every night, he made love with my 
wife, and I had to watch.

The second week though, he asked Janet to come into the 
room.

"Yes sir?" she asked.

"Janet, would you please give Rick a blowjob? Watching 
his wife and I has been getting him a touch frustrated."

"Of course," she said, as though it was just another 
task. I guess it was.

"Janet loves cock," he explained. "You don't mind, do 
you Joyce?"

"No, it's a good idea," she said. "Then I won't have to 
feel sorry for Rick anymore."

The stunning Janet dropped to her knees in front of me, 
and took my cock into her mouth; it was incredibly 
friendly, so warm and wet. She sucked me gently, 
stroking my balls as I watched the couple on the bed.

She was very beautiful, in a very different way to 
Joyce; she used cosmetics skillfully, her lips were ruby 
red, her lashes teased out, eye shadow accentuated her 
face, her thick blond hair was done twice a week, never 
a split end on Janet.

I came in her throat, and she milked every drop from me 
before she was through, pulling at my cock and balls for 
more.

After that, she would sit with me each evening, and we'd 
make out as we watched. Janet loved two things, kissing 
and giving head. She liked me to strip down, but she 
never took her own clothes off. She'd feel me up, 
playing with my cock as we shared some tongue; then 
always sucking me off, swallowing it all down.

She was an extremely proficient woman.

At last, our strange time with the superrich was over; 
we returned to our town, our life, our friends.

And Joyce was pregnant.

We didn't see him for about five years. Administration 
people would come from headquarters to check up on the 
paper, he didn't waste his time with such trivia.

***

Joyce and I never discussed those weeks, the dark secret 
of our success as well as the conception of our first 
child. We just got on with our lives, and I loved our 
first baby as much as our second, which came along a 
couple of years later.

Then one evening there was a knock on the door; it was 
him.

He shook my hand and kissed my wife; with some passion, 
too.

How are you, Joyce?" he asked, looking into her eyes.

"Very well, thank you," she said, her eyes shining up at 
him.

He strode into our house and our lives; he was too big, 
too powerful for us to change his set course, and we all 
knew it.

"So, I see a lovely house now, a happy family... two 
children, mother, father. Very nice. How are you two 
getting along? Has your relationship held up well?"

"I'd say so," I said, following after him as he looked 
through our ground floor.

"Me too," Joyce said. "I love being a housewife and 
taking care of my children. I have enough free time to 
do some nice math as well. I've had a couple of papers 
published, one of them has picked up a lot of 
citations."

He sat in our living room and we talked for some hours, 
he smiled at the baby photos and played with the child 
he'd fathered. It was strange to see him this way; he 
wasn't an omnipotent financier, he was just an old man, 
a father who had never known his own child.

As little Amy fell asleep in his arms, he got to 
business.

"Rick, I know you've been trying hard, but your paper 
still lost three million dollars last year."

We discussed the details for a while; they aren't 
important to this story.

"I can't justify keeping you afloat much longer," he 
said, "It's a bit hard to explain to the board."

"So you're going to shut us down?" I asked, deflated. 
"Just when I've got sales on the rise?"

"Well, I could give you another five years to get it 
into the black. If..."

"Yes?"

He looked at me piercingly, then shifted his gaze to 
Joyce.

"Amy is a wonderful child," he said. "I've listed her on 
a scholarship trust fund I started a while back. If she 
gets accepted to one of the top ten universities, 
tuition is covered."

"That's good to knowh" I said.

"Another five years," he said again; "In return, I want 
another child with Joyce."

I looked at my wife; she just stared at me wide eyed. 
That same blank poker faced look I'd seen the first time 
he proposed his little deal, that look that meant 
nothing, but really meant everything.

"I'll just step into the other room and make a call 
while you two discuss it." He said, easing our sleeping 
child onto the sofa as he stood up.

"What should we do?" I asked.

"Have another baby," she answered. "We sort of wanted 
one anyway, so why not?"

"But I wanted it to be my baby."

"It will be your baby. Isn't Amy your baby? Don't you 
love her as much as Sam?"

"Yes, of course I do."

"So what's the problem then? You aren't uptight about 
the sex are you?"

"I was never really comfortable with that."

"Well you'd better get used to the idea then."

What else could we do? If I lost my job, we'd have to 
sell our house and move to the city. And of course, 
nearly everyone we knew was employed at the paper. It 
was more than a job, it was a community.

We had a responsibility to do what we could; all my wife 
had to do was let him fuck her a few times, and we could 
keep everything floating along.

He came back to the living room, and we told him our 
decision.

"Do you know when you'll be menstruating?" he asked her.

"In a week or so," she answered.

He stood, took Joyce's hand, and kissed it gallantly. 
"I'll be counting the hours," he said.

She stepped closer to him; she reached up and put her 
arms around his neck, he put his hands on her narrow 
hips. They kissed, lips and tongues, bodies held close, 
their passion for each other nearly palpable. 

Their passion had an odd simplicity; it was sexual in 
the purest sense. They didn't want to live together or 
know more about each other, they just wanted to have sex 
to make a baby. They wanted to mate, each respecting the 
reproductive fitness of the other.

"You're welcome to stay," she told him.

He hesitated; "I should get back to town. I have a plane 
waiting."

"Let it wait," she suggested.

In response, he lifted her off of her feet, he kissed 
her again, deeper, harder. He lifted her t-shirt from 
her, he began to fumble with her bra.

"You have big breasts now," he observed.

"Suck them," she whispered, ignoring my presence in the 
room.

The old man held her, his big hands under her ass, her 
legs wrapped around his waist and she arched backwards 
as he lowered his face to her pale breast. He sucked one 
nipple, then the other; she laughed in glee, clamping 
herself to him.

"Where's your bedroom?" he asked.

"Upstairs," she told him.

He set her down, and they started up the stairs, holding 
hands. Joyce stopped for a moment, turning to look back 
at me; I was just standing there in our living room, 
waiting for feeling to return to my legs.

"Put Amy to bed and then come join us," she said with a 
grin, as if it was all about nothing.

By the time I got to the bedroom, my wife and her 
wealthy lover were undressed, legs entwined, kissing on 
our bed.

The years and two children had left their mark on 
Joyce's young body; she was now 29 years old, with a 
more generous rear and larger breasts about the size of 
small grapefruits. They hung slightly, but were full 
with enormous nipples. Her hair was as ever, that 
angelic orange. Her skin was still smooth and pale, and 
her belly was fairly flat, the stretch marks the proud 
trophies of her childbearing.

Her lover, on the other hand, was definitely looking the 
worse for wear; his age had caught up with him now. His 
hair was very thin, and white. His belly had grown 
significantly, and he had bags under his tired eyes that 
weren't there before.

I watched them for a minute, standing alone in the 
doorway. I could understand she wanted him as a sire for 
our baby; he was a self made billionaire, he'd been born 
in utter poverty. He was still essentially fit at sixty 
eight years old; what man could be better breeding 
material? But I didn't understand why she was so into 
having sex with him. He just wasn't very attractive 
physically.

He pushed her onto her back, then spread her knees so 
that her soft middle was open and vulnerable.

"Look at her, Rick; her long red hair, her smooth skin, 
her big breasts. She's a perfect mother, nurturing and 
loving. She does higher math just for fun, yet she likes 
to keep your house and care for our kids."

His big hand stroked over her naked body.

"Just now, she told me that she's never been with 
another man since she met you, except me of course. Do 
you love her as much as she deserves, Rick?"

I looked at her, shivering at his touch, waiting to mate 
with him, eager for his old dick to slide into her pale 
frame. She had his organ in her hand, she was pulling on 
it gently but emphatically.

"Yes."

"Does it hurt you to see me make love with her?"

"Of course."

He smiled; "But you've had her all to yourself for all 
these years. Surely you don't mind sharing her a couple 
of times with your benefactor."

He lifted his bulk over her, he kissed her, his knee 
pushing against her groin.

He rolled back again, and stroked her open crotch. "Do 
you give her head when you make love?" he asked.

"Sure," I said.

"Show me. Come on, man, pleasure your lovely wife. You 
owe her everything you have, don't you? So then. Put 
your face between her thighs."

Joyce looked at me expectantly; she looked so edible, so 
tender, so tasty.

He was right, of course. Although I was the boss at the 
paper now, the editor in chief, a respected man in our 
little town, it was all fake. My position was entirely 
due to Joyce and Him, my true job was cuckold, playing 
father to another man's child. That was what I was 
really paid to do.

I crawled onto the bed and did as he told me.

As I licked her, they kissed; after a while, they 
twisted around, and she sucked his cock as I licked her 
clit.

"Move aside, Rick," he said at last. "I'm going to have 
sex with your wife now. Sit back and watch, watch 
closely; see how much she likes it."

As he spoke, he took my place between her legs. He held 
his powerful old cock in his hand and pushed it into her 
wet waiting tunnel. Joyce arched her back and pushed 
back, her younger body sucking the big man's organ into 
herself with a happy sigh.

I just stepped back and watched in painful humiliation.

We'd been happy the last 5 years. We had fun together, 
we laughed at each other's jokes, we had good sex. But 
somewhere underneath all that, this was always present; 
the knowledge of Him, the awareness that she would have 
sex with him anytime he wanted her to, that she would 
accept his sperm and carry his baby not only for the 
material gain it brought, but because she wanted to. 
Because she wanted him, his time, his approval, his 
attention, and his genetic material. She wanted his 
kiss, his cock, and my suffering was included in the 
deal. My humility was part of their foreplay, it turned 
them both on as much as the potential for procreation 
did.

He pushed her knee onto the mattress, so I could see 
where his cock was clamped by her wet vaginal lips, and 
he began to pump her that way, his bulk rising and 
falling over her small frame, his billionaire cock 
ruling her.

"One of the things that I find so special about Joyce is 
the way she sees me; not as an overweight old man, but 
as a powerful and attractive man. Am I right Joyce?"

"Of course! Powerful and sexy."

"You want to have my baby, again?"

"Oh yes!"

"Now that's sexy to me. Very, very Sexy!"

With each word he spoke, he drove his big cock home for 
emphasis, bouncing the mother of my child, and his, 
below him.

"Are you going to come, my lovely?" He asked her, "Will 
you come for your daddy?"

"Oh yes! I will if you just... if you just... Ahhh..."

I sat on the edge of the bed as she climaxed in his 
arms, pinned below his expensive expansive bulk.

He pulled out of her and held his cock to her lips. She 
opened wide and took him into her mouth, sucking happily 
at his pleasure. His cock was perfectly rigid, the shaft 
quivering in her mouth, on the delicious edge of climax.

"Ah, that's good," he said, kneeling over her face, "Do 
you ever have anal sex, Rick?"

"No."

"You should try it, it's great. What about you, Joyce? 
Anal sex?"

She stopped sucking for a moment. "I haven't done that 
for years, since before Rick and I were together," she 
said. It was the first I'd heard of it.

"Honey, there's some Vaseline in the medicine cabinet," 
she added.

I got the jelly and came back into the bedroom, where 
Joyce was still working the rich man's cock with her 
mouth, stroking his big loose balls with her hand.

"Don't just stand there, man! Grease yourself up," he 
insisted.

Joyce lifted herself onto her hands and knees, her knees 
splayed out, her rear end open in invitation.

Well, I was pretty horny; watching her with him always 
did that to me, despite the pain and jealousy that was 
always there as well. And Janet wasn't there this time 
to administer her efficient blowjob. And I'd always 
wanted to try it...

Her ass was tight as a fist around my dick as I pushed 
it into her. She kept sucking his cock while I reamed 
her, I fingered her clit at the same time, and she 
started to come again.

He held her head in his hands, sliding his dick in and 
out of her mouth. I avoided looking at him, I closed my 
eyes and reached forward and around to fondle Joyce's 
generous breast. She was shaking and moaning, clenching 
my cock in spasms of her ass; I came.

Soon afterwards, the tycoon squirted into her mouth. My 
wife rolled over onto the mattress, exhausted.

"Get packed Rick," he said, stepping off the bed. 
"You'll have to spend the next week with me."

"Why?"

"So I can be sure that you don't make Joyce pregnant, 
but I do. She has to take care of the kids, otherwise 
she could just spend a few weeks with me like last time. 
Quick now, my plane is waiting for us."

We flew to New York, and then to London, then by 
helicopter to his estate. We had a lot of time to talk; 
it was a privilege to have that much of his time nearly 
to myself [he was on the phone a lot, and there was a 
flunky or two around].

"Janet doesn't work for you anymore?" I asked him.

"Janet? No. he's gone back to being Gene now. Has a wife 
and a child on the way."

"Gene?"

"Just an experimental phase he told me. Too bad, he made 
a great girl; multitalented one could say."

"Do you know what a cuckoo is, Rick?"

"A stupid person. A type of Swiss clock."

"A cuckoo is a large black tropical bird. It lays its 
egg in the nest of a crow, among the crow's eggs. The 
cuckoo hatches first, eats more, and grows faster than 
the crow chicks. The parent crows feed it diligently, 
unaware that they've been fooled. Or, if you prefer, 
cuckolded. Of course, what I'm doing with you is 
slightly different, you know you're nurturing my 
offspring."

"I love her like my own."

"I know that Rick, and I appreciate it."

His wife was a few years older than mine, a few years 
younger than myself. She seemed surprised that he was 
home at all.

She was a remarkable woman; I'd never been in the 
presence of someone so gorgeous. It was very difficult 
to not simply stare at her continuously.

She was tall, at least 5'10". She was thin, yet shapely; 
she had long auburn hair and longer legs.

Her face was stunning from every angle; every expression 
was a new delight, a new vision of beauty. Yet she 
seemed sad; her life wasn't a very happy one.

We had dinner together, but my boss was gone before 
breakfast the next morning.

"Make yourself at home, I'll be back for you in a few 
days. We'll travel back to the states together," he'd 
said.

I guess I made myself more at home than he might have 
intended; I slept with his wife.

She was hungry for company, and I had little to do. She 
told me all the anguish of her life, and we became 
intimate.

It somehow doesn't have much to do with my story, except 
to add a small touch of poetic justice. She was into 
appearances, and I was still a good looking guy; 
powerless, [relatively] young, and handsome. The 
opposite of her husband. I fantasized of making her 
pregnant, and did my level best; blasting my sperm 
repeatedly up her middle, as she clamped me between her 
long shapely legs. It's a rare privilege to make love 
with a [former] supermodel, but it was a bit spoiled by 
fact was that I love my wife.

He phoned me from New York;

"I'm going to leave you with my wife while I'm with 
yours," he announced. "I like you Rick, and I don't 
mind. Hell, I'd have divorced her years ago except it 
would cost me too much. She isn't too bright you know, 
but she did get one over on me; she's not fertile." He 
laughed, as if that was something really very funny.

The tall beautiful woman seemed to lose her allure; we 
slept together anyway. We chatted, kissed, made love, 
and enjoyed our artificial relationship, passing our 
lonely hours together.

Her husband sent his jet to take me home, after he was 
sure my wife was pregnant with his child. I never saw 
either of them again.

After his suicide, it was revealed that the whole empire 
was built on massive debt.

He had plundered the pension funds; my newspaper was 
closed immediately, and we had little to fall back on.

We had to move to the city. I kept the house now, and 
took care of the three children. Joyce, with her PhD and 
published math papers, got a high paying position with 
an international bank.

The only resources that seem to be entirely intact, and 
cunningly protected from all creditors, was a massive 
scholarship fund. The beneficiaries are 97 children of 
varying ages; as well as 26 older kids that have already 
been paid through school. 

It wasn't hard for me to discover that all of these 
children have a parent who had been promoted to a top 
position by the big man personally, mostly in loss 
making divisions that just kept making losses until the 
whole corporation went under.

They say he was a loser, he was never the success 
everyone had thought he was.

But I say they're wrong. Altogether, I believe he 
fathered no less than 134 children with 75 different 
women. Isn't that the true meaning of success?

END

Comments: storyace@hotmail.com

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 66