AllFreeNovel
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Money isn’t an issue for a man like me. Property, however, is irreplaceable. I like my penthouse in New York, my chalet in France, and my house in Napa Valley.
My lawyer enters the fray and I yawn as the two high-priced bastards go back and forth, yipping like Chihuahuas. Tiffany, running a hand through her short brown bob, catches my attention. Her brown eyes dance as a sly smirk forms on her pouty lips.
In the past week, I’ve spent less than six hours in Tiffany’s company, and already I’ve concluded no dust collects on her. The woman is a renegade.
She proves it by announcing to everyone present, “I don’t like sex.”
A hush comes over the room. I swear I can hear a kid giggling in Central Park, two blocks away.
My fiancée goes on, tapping a polished pink nail on the equally polished surface of the table. “I want it stipulated in the prenup that there will be no sexual expectations of either party, and that you, Royce, are free to get your groove on elsewhere... without penalty.”
With Tiffany’s balls almost as big as mine, growing old with her will be easy.
“Thank you, sweetie,” I say with a deferential nod.
She gives me a coy smile. “You’re welcome, honey bear.”
The laugh I stifle turns into a true cough when I choke on my spit. My grandfather may have ordered me to marry Tif, but I’m happy to do so on my own.
She’s perfect for me.
Tif told me she doesn’t like the act of having sex.
The juices. The cum. The sweat.
Ido.
Against doors. Against windows. On the floor. In a bed. On the stairs, fisting hairs.
I have a litany of places and positions in my repertoire.
For me, there is nothing better than breaking a woman with pleasure, and then building her up to do it all over again.
And again. And again.
I like to make a woman’s pussy red and raw and puffy with all the fucking we do. Her clit so sensitive, she balks at putting her panties back on.
To get what I want, and how I want it—I pay for sex. The call girls I select don’t mind if I thrust a bit too hard or put the full length of my dick down their throat. I consider it money well spent to maintain my peace of mind and for the guaranteed discretion.
And Tif doesn’t mind if I continue to do so even after we get married.
Just like I’ve always done from the beginning.
June, a woman closer to my mom’s age (had she lived) came to my grandfather’s mansion two days after my sixteenth birthday. She reeked of rosewater and had the body of a 1950s pinup, complete with a hairymons pubis.
The woman had rocked my world.
After my initiation into sex, I set up an account with her agency. June came over twice a week to teach me everything she knew. Like any good student, I made it my mission to learn quickly, and under June’s ministrations, I discovered I liked to play hard.
Rough.
Fast.
June and I continued until it was time for me to head to Boston and get a degree. As a graduation present, June gave me the number of a discreet madam and a gift card for one of her services.
And until Genesis, the woman who even after two years makes my balls grow tight, I haven’t fucked anyone I didn’t pay for.
Genesis.
