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His father had taught him well. Though young, Stewart proved himself worthy, and looked to Stephanie for support and comfort when things became challenging. In spite of the ongoing estrangement from his mother, he married his college sweetheart, and they settled where the Pacific hit the golden shores, on the beach in Malibu.
STELLA AND JOHN
JOHN STANLEY STUDIEDhis reflection in the full length mirror and liked what he saw. Though he was not yet thirty, his closely cropped hair was already showing signs of gray, and he was pleased about that. It gave him a more authoritative, mature image, and John loved power. His charcoal grey Armani suit flattered his physique and he looked every bit what he was. A rich, powerful, up and coming studio executive.
Mutterings from his wife still in the king sized bed, snatched him from his thoughts.
“What did you say, Stella?” he asked, wishing she would leave him in peace. He’d fucked her senseless the night before, and he hoped she didn’t want more. He needed to save himself for the piece of ass he had lined up for that evening.
“I said, how about a movie tonight? We haven’t been out in ages.”
He grunted. He wasn’t driving all the way back to Malibu and canceling his hot little piece for some damn movie. He saw them all day long!
Stepping out of the closet and looking across at her, he had to smile. Her tousled blonde hair fell around her ample breasts clearly visible beneath the satin sheets.
“Stella. I probably won’t even be back tonight. If you want to go to a movie, call one of your girlfriends.”
“I was hoping we could go together,” she murmured in her soft Texas accent.
“It’s a long drive all the way out here to Malibu. You’re lucky I make it back at all.”
Striding forward, and jerking away the sheets, he seized her mammoth mammaries and he used them to pull her up.
“You’re hurting me John! Stop!” she cried, grabbing his wrists.
“You’ve been whining for weeks. You wanna go there—go here—all over the fucking place. I don’t have the time, Stella baby. Now get off my case!”
Roughly shoving her back, he was pleased to see the marks he’d left on her glorious tits. He’d always thought they’d make Dolly Parton jealous.
“Behave, and maybe we can do something special next time I come home,” he said gruffly, then leaning over he tenderly stroked her face. He didn’t want her complaining to her old man, so he kissed her on the forehead, eyes, then lips until he felt her calming down.
“I’m sorry, Stella baby,” he crooned. “You make me mad, and I have to lay down the law. You know that.”
Stella nodded, then let out a sigh.
“I gotta run sweetie. I have to get to a meeting.”
