tagGroup SexJohn Billionaire Ch. 01

John Billionaire Ch. 01

bybluedragonauthor©

PART 1: The Will

***

The feminine ass in my hands was absolutely perfect. The hips flared prettily around perfectly-shaped tight globes. The skin was milky white and unblemished save for the red blush where my hand had been spanking her.

She yelped when I spanked her again, half-surprise in her voiced mixed with lustful excitement. And then she moaned erotically as I thrust forward with my dick, burrowing deeply into her clenching pussy.

"God, Taylor, you are so fucking hot..." I groaned as my cock pistoned in and out of her body. I could stare at this sight all day.

"I know..." she answered confidently, then moaned once again. She was comfortably crouched doggy-style, her knees spread to the side for balance and her head resting against her folded arms on my bed. This left that perfect ass up in the air, a wonderful receptacle for storing my man meat.

I pushed my way in, then held my crotch against her asscheeks and rotated around, carving the sensitive nerves inside her pussy. The sensations felt great to me, but it was a technique I had for delaying my own orgasm while stimulating a girl as much as possible.

I was rewarded with extra whimpering coming out of Taylor's end of our coupling, and she managed to sneak one hand down to play with her own clit as she approached her climax.

"Oh, don't stop. I'm gonna cum. Fuck me, Johnny! Fuck me!" she cried urgently as she got up onto all fours, planting her palms against the bed and jerking her body back against me with each push.

I ceased my rotations and gripped her hips in my hands, readying myself for the final stretch. With metronomic precision, I thrust in and out of her rapidly, giving in to the wonderful feelings and bring about my own orgasm.

Taylor beat me to it, grunting "Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!" before her hips suddenly twitched violently, her pussy muscles clamping down all at once. She screamed as she came.

I was still a little bit away from my own climax, but felt the tension leave my shoulders as I was now free to cum. I pounded into her backside all through Taylor's orgasm, until she unexpectedly slid out from under me, my cock wet and bobbing in the air as she turned about.

I whimpered in momentary disappointment, so close to the release I craved. But Taylor fisted my dick and started pumping it as she clamped her lips around the head and sucked furiously.

That was all it took as I grunted and then released, feeling my balls squeezing every ounce out of me as my pecker spurted jet after jet of hot semen into the back of her mouth.

She drank down every drop, and then collapsed back across my bed while I sat on my heels, my thighs burning from their recent exertion. Taylor's naked form was so gorgeous, splayed out haphazardly amidst my tangled sheets. Her large, perky tits pointed up into the air, full and round despite being on her back. Her short, silky dark hair haloed around her head while she closed her eyes and luxuriated in the aftermath of our coupling.

When she caught her breath, Taylor's brilliant blue eyes opened back up and fixed on me, a sparkle in her light irises. When she was aroused they turned almost violet, but as she began to calm down the deeper blue seeped back in. "Sorry about that. I know it caught you off guard."

"I'll say. I was in a panic, thinking you were going to tease me all night."

"No, not teasing. But I didn't want your spunk leaking out of me." She got up and started looking for her clothing.

"I take it that means you're not staying tonight?"

"No, I've got an early morning shoot. Maxim Magazine! And the last time we did this I left a wet spot on the taxi seat because of you."

"Yeah, no problem. And uh, I've got a photo shoot too... for um... Cosmo..."

Taylor grinned and muttered, "Yeah, right." She stretched for a moment, bending her body back and forth and twisting her arms behind her in some pretzel fashion that showed off her amazing flexibility and simultaneously thrust her naked bosom outwards. Catching my stare, Taylor smirked for a moment. Then she got dressed quickly and then gave me a short peck on the lips. "I'll call you."

And then she was gone.

Taylor rarely stayed with me overnight. We had a great sexual chemistry, but we both knew I was just her booty call. I was like the old, comfortable blanket she could always snuggle up to. Then again, the sex was fantastic and I had nothing to complain about.

Still, it would be nice for her to appreciate me a little more.

I lounged around my bed for another few minutes, then finally got up and went to take a shower before going to sleep.

***

***FRIDAY***

*BZZT! BZZT! BZZT! SLAP!*

My hand rested on the nightstand, two inches from the alarm clock I'd just attempted to crush. The morning noise of a busy Manhattan morning wafted in through the walls while I tried to shut my eyes and ears against an invasive weekday.

*BZZT! BZZT! BZZT!*

The hell? Why was it still buzzing? Then I noticed that the noise was coming from INSIDE my nightstand. Bleary-eyed, I yanked open the drawer and found my cell phone, which was vibrating against the wood in silent mode. I'd turned it down when Taylor had come over last night.

*BZZT! BZZT! BZZT!*

After a few blinks, I managed to read the caller ID. It was my mom. And it was 7 o'clock in the morning. I didn't want to pick it up at this early hour.

Still, she was my mom. My one and only parent. I never knew who my dad was. He'd been gone long before I was born and my mom never spoke of him. She'd taught me to tie my shoelaces and help me with my homework and generally take care of me my entire life. The least I could do was answer the phone when she called me. So I hit the TALK button and gingerly pressed the receiver to my head.

"Yeah..."

"Jonathan!" she exclaimed. Well, it was a little more like 'Jonnatan'... my mom's accent wasn't very good with 'th' sounds. Then she blurted a harsh phrase in Cantonese, telling me to wake up.

"I'm up, I'm up."

"Jonathan, I have to tell you I'm sorry. I should have told you the truth a long time ago."

That got my attention, and I could feel the last bindings of sleep breaking away as I sat up a little straighter in bed. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry. But you're going to be hearing a lot of things in the next few days. But you should know it is the truth. I should have told you before. Jonathan, I love you."

"I love you too, mom. But what are you talking about?"

There was no answer, and I no longer heard the faint buzz of feedback from an open cell connection.

"Hello? Mom?" I ventured. "Hello?"

Nothing. And then a moment later came the triple tone of CALL ENDED. I cursed out my cell phone carrier. Fewest dropped calls my ass.

The phone vibrated a second later and I instantly hit the TALK button. "Mom?"

"No, it's Taylor. Ohmigod! I can't believe it! Can you believe it?"

Between my mom and Taylor, this was really starting to frustrate me. "Believe what? What the hell are you talking about?"

"You mean you haven't heard? They just announced it on the morning news!"

"Heard WHAT?"

"Your father! He's dead!"

She couldn't have said what I thought she said... "Who?"

"Oh for fuck's sake." Taylor sounded annoyed at me now. "Turn on your TV. There are news crews right outside your apartment right now."

I found the remote and hit the power button. As the screen was flickering to life, my phone was buzzing at me again as I had another incoming call. "Taylor, it's my mom, I'll call you back."

"You'd better."

I hit the button to switch calls to my mom, and then my jaw hit the floor. There really were news cameras outside my apartment. The screen showed the front of my apartment building, two of the doormen I recognized working hard to keep various media types away while various residents tried to sneak out and get on with their lives. With typical New York self-centeredness, none of them even stopped to ask what was going on.

"Jonathan!"

"Yeah, mom. I'm watching the news."

I could almost HEAR her close her eyes as she sighed. "I should have told you."

I was getting really annoyed. This had gone on WAY too long. SOMEBODY had to tell me what the hell was going on! And as her words reverberated through my head, the answer scrolled across the screen.

Noted billionaire industrialist Jonathan Kendall died in a jet crash almost a week ago. I'd recognized the name as he'd been romantically linked to several celebrities over the years. An unmarried playboy for decades, he'd been very visible hobnobbing with the Hollywood elite, building his fortune through some successful movie producing in addition to his profitable corporations. But that's not what had television news vans blocking traffic outside my apartment this morning.

Lawyers had opened up his will, and apparently kept everything under wraps for the past week. But now a leak had hit the media that Mr. Kendall had left his entire fortune, worth several billion dollars, to his one and only son, Jonathan Kwong, a young investment banker in New York.

Jonathan Kwong, as in ME.

A famous guy dying would always be news. But the fact that NO ONE knew Jonathan Kendall even HAD a son made things more newsworthy. And the fact that he'd left several BILLION dollars to a son who was unaware made the story the headliner.

And then there were three photos on the screen. To the left, 48-year old Jonathan Kendall, with his light brown hair and sterling blue eyes. To the right, a pretty picture of my mom from a few years ago. And in the middle, the official company photo of me acquired from my investment firm. Now that they lined up all three of us, I could detect some physical resemblance. Same hairline, same cheekbones. I had my mom's eyes, although they were the same deep blue color of my father's. I'd gotten a great mix of both Asian and Caucasian genes, and now I knew exactly where they'd come from.

"Jonathan!" my mom was screaming through the phone.

I suddenly jerked out of my stupor and picked up the handset once again. "Tell me everything."

***

My mom was only 20 when she'd gotten pregnant with me. She'd come to America from Hong Kong for college, a scholarship student with a bright future. Jonathan Kendall was a poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks with a hard determination to succeed. They'd met during their sophomore year and soon began dating. It was the first real love for both of them.

They were careful to use protection, but even the best protection isn't 100% guaranteed. They'd disagreed on what to do when my mom got pregnant, and in the end it drove them apart. My mom dropped out of school to give birth to me and got a job. Jonathan wanted no part of a baby that would slow him down in his quest to make it big in business.

My birth certificate listed "Father unknown", even though she'd named me after him. Oddly enough, having a U.S. born child had been the catalyst in getting my mom citizenship as well. And so my mom and I had made our life together.

Eventually, she went back and got her degree. She used her intelligence and personal drive to forge a successful career, despite the demands of a baby. And she taught me her hard work ethic as well.

But while she took her child and moved on with her life, Jonathan Kendall never forgot the son he had fathered. When he made it big, he contacted my mom to ask about me.

The two of them agreed that I didn't need to know who he was right away. Too many children of the wealthy became spoiled brats, wasting money on parties and drugs. I was only ten years old, and both my mom and real father wanted to see me succeed on my own. So there were no trust funds. No checks mysteriously sent to my mother. No record to tie us to Mr. Kendall.

Realistically, I was still given a lot of advantages. My mom was successful in her own right and we were never poor. I didn't have to struggle to pay for college. And so without knowing how much money I would have to fall back on, I graduated, got my MBA, and found my own high salary job working in finance on Wall Street.

I was 27 and could afford my own Manhattan apartment. I was debt-free and financially stable. I'd enjoyed my social life, but I'd never shown an inclination for drugs or other excess. I was a responsible young man, and I didn't need my father's money. Those were exactly the reasons why my mom and father had been ready to tell me the truth.

But then his jet had equipment trouble and went down. And my father was dead before I ever knew him.

The conversation took over an hour. And when I was done I realized I was very late for work. I promised my mom I would call her later. She seemed sad, but strong. She'd lost the father of her child, but she had stopped being in love with the man a long time ago.

I called my boss at work. He'd seen the news and told me to stay home for a few days. Let the media circus blow itself out once they got bored.

"Congratulations, Jonathan."

"For what?" I asked him.

"Did you forget? You're worth a few BILLION dollars right now."

***

***SATURDAY***

I'd spent the rest of Friday holed up inside my own apartment. Various neighbors came by and tried to be sociable, mostly just looking to meet someone newly- famous. Some of them I'd barely spoken to in the past, but now everyone was my friend.

It was a pretty Saturday morning, a great day to go out and enjoy the city, but I was still hiding out in my apartment. And of all the curious neighbors who came to check me out, one of them caught my notice more than the rest. She was very pretty young lady, and she had my attention from the moment she stepped into the hallway.

I had been standing in my doorway, chatting up the neighbor who literally shared a wall with me. He was an older gentleman who had ordered some Chinese delivery for me and steadfastly refused to let me repay him for it. I couldn't order myself without giving away my name and address, so he placed the call with his own credit card and building security had delivered it up to him.

He noticed my gaze had been averted and took the opportunity to escape before I could force some cash onto him. And then the pretty girl arrived. Her light brown hair was tied back into a simple ponytail and she shyly kept her gaze downcast as she approached me. She gave me a nervous smile while her hazel eyes perked up as she realized I was looking right at her.

"Hi..." I ventured, putting on my most charming grin.

"Hey..." she looked up at me and folded her arms over her chest. This motion pressed her full cleavage together beneath a demure sweater, and I had to fight to keep my gaze on her face. "You're Jonathan Kwong?"

"Yes, but my mom's the only one who calls me Jonathan. I'm just John."

"Pleased to meet you John." She held out her hand politely, which I grasped and shook gently. "I'm Nicole."

Her hand felt so small and so soft. "I assume you live in the building?" I asked.

"Yes. I'm on the fifth floor."

"Oh, ok. So you just came up to see what all the fuss was about?"

Nicole blushed prettily. "I was just curious. So is it true? Mr. Kendall was your father?"

"It would appear so. At least my mom reassures me that he was."

"I'm very sorry for your loss." Somehow, the way Nicole said it made me believe she truly sympathized for me. In fact, everything about this girl screamed shy, genuine honesty, a rare thing to find in this town.

"That's okay. I mean, I'm sad that I never got the chance to meet him. But at the same time it can't hurt me that much."

"I suppose. The thing is that I never knew my dad either. Single mom, dad left before I was born. I'm sure you know the story." She uncrossed her arms and waved them off to the sides in a helpless shrug.

I was taken aback by the sudden seriousness of our conversation. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

She continued. "I guess my own situation is what made me want to come up here and meet you. I'm sure there are a hundred more people just like us in this building alone." And then Nicole laughed.

I was startled by the sound. Her laugh was rich and melodious. I could listen to her laughing all day. Now I definitely wasn't a person who believed in love at first sight. The romantic in me wanted to believe it but the New York realist in me denounced it as fantasy. But there was... something... about this girl that struck me.

Taylor was gorgeous and stirred my loins from the moment I saw her. She was all slender curves and angular cheekbones and brilliant eyes. But Nicole, while not surrendering much to Taylor in the way of curves or physical attractiveness, just seemed so much more wholesome somehow.

"What's so funny?" I ventured as Nicole was still giggling to herself while looking out at nowhere.

She giggled one more time before looking right at me. "Well, I don't suppose there's many more single-parent kids who find out their dad just left them a fortune!" She leaned against my doorpost with a healthy smile on her face, all traces of her early nervousness gone now.

"No, I suppose not." I caught myself leaning in close to her, just casually slouched while standing up and yet so much closer to violating Nicole's personal space.

Nicole looked at me, the two of us incredibly comfortable despite knowing each other for bare minutes. And just when I felt the urge to lean in and kiss her tender lips, Nicole blinked several times and then looked at her feet. "Well, I'll let you get back to your life. Sorry for bothering you."

And then a second later we were both standing straight up and a couple of feet further apart. The moment, whatever it was, was now gone. "Not at all," I told her. "The silver lining is that I finally get to meet the people I've been living next to for years. You're welcome to come back anytime."

Her eyes lit up at the idea. "Maybe. I'll see you around. Goodbye."

"Bye."

She turned around and headed back towards the elevator. I could have stayed there forever watching her hips swaying as she walked away. There was a connection there and I wanted to find out more. Part of me wanted to find out what was underneath that baggy sweater and stylish jeans. But more of me wanted to know what was behind the fresh face and kind eyes. And yet thirty seconds later, Nicole turned the corner and was gone.

So I retreated back into my doorway. My Chinese food was getting cold.

***

***SUNDAY***

After days of camping outside my apartment, the media eventually figured out I wasn't going to make an immediate statement. And with nothing to report for hour after hour, the buzz quickly died down and everyone sort of moved on.

So today I turned my cell phone back on and decided to venture out. The first thing I wanted to do was get a serious meal without having to eat it at home. But just as I was leaving the building, my cell rang.

Taylor was livid. "You promised you'd call me!"

"Sorry! I had to turn my phone off. Somehow every news network got my cell phone number."

"Still..." Taylor was not the kind of girl who was used to waiting. She'd been a gorgeous woman when I met her in college, with all the boys flitting over her like moths to a flame. My exotic looks had gotten her attention. Well, at least had held her attention for about a week. It wasn't until we ran into each other again, years later in Manhattan, that we started fucking again. She was a beautiful fashion model/actress who'd guest starred on a couple of primetime dramas. I was an old reliable friend from college with no strings attached.

"I'm sorry. It's been a crazy couple of days."

"One would think you'd find a way to get in touch with your girlfriend," she whined.

"Girlfriend?" I snorted. "You've never been my girlfriend."

"Hey, that's no way to think of the last woman you slept with."

"And how do YOU know you were the last woman I slept with?" I replied indignantly. "I've been a popular guy ever since the story broke."

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