Negotiating My Prenuptial Agreementbymsgrant67©
The room had now cooled to a chilly 60 degrees. James' mind probably wasn't exactly sure what he had just heard, but his body was quivering, desperate for more contact. He was practically naked from the waist up; his penis was exposed, throbbing and wet, and he obviously needed sexual relief. In his hierarchy of needs, the number one priority was getting our warm, comfortable bodies back up against him.
"Are we done James? or are we just getting started?" Samantha whispered.
We had conditioned him well. James didn't even answer; he quickly initialed the last line and signed the agreement. He turned to me and opened his mouth for my kiss, during which Samantha and I snuggled back in; Samantha then straddled his chair and began showing him what a lap dance was, talking to him like he was a little boy. The bachelor party was now in effect. Samantha and I took turns rubbing, teasing, licking and kissing James until he finally exploded into the greatest orgasm of his life.
As Chelsea was modeling her Supergirl costume and listening to Mr. Harrison go on and on about some vague differences in the costumes through the years, she noticed the new contract had been slipped under the lounge door. She and Mr. Harrison were starting a discussion of super hero movies.
Unknown to him, a week ago, Chelsea had known nothing about Superman, Supergirl or Super anybody else, but when she had learned of his comic collection, she had guessed that this would be his thing, and her guess had hit the bulls eye.
She had spent hours over the past week watching every film she could find and had gone to several comic book shops and asked the guys there to teach her a brief history of Superman. She suspected that girls rarely enter those types of stores, certainly not girls that look like her, and the guys in those stores had bent over backwards teaching her the basics.
She now had a solid background in those stories and could discuss them with Mr. Harrison. She did notice him glance at the clock and start to stand and knew she needed to do something. The plan was for everyone to be done at 11:00, and Chelsea needed a few more minutes. She certainly wasn't going to fuck this guy, but she thought that maybe she could kiss him for a little while.
"Thanks for looking at my costume; I feel much better about it now," she lied.
As she thanked him, she leaned over and gave him a slight peck. He literally froze, half standing up. Sensing his confusion, Chelsea slowly kissed him again; this time letting her lips gently move toward his mouth. She lightly feathered his lips with her tongue as she nudged him back onto the sofa. She took up a position in his lap, similar to how a little girl might sit on Santa's lap.
She began moving her hands around his body and talking to him between kisses, "It is so nice of you to help me; I never meet guys like you, smart and successful." She continued, "All the guys I meet are dumb jocks; why can't I ever meet a guy like you?"
Now, his fantasy was real; he was kissing Supergirl who was telling him that she wasn't interested in the very guys who tormented him while he was growing up. He was kissing back now, and he had never experienced feelings like this.
"Can I ask you something?" he said.
"Anything," Chelsea replied as she batted her eyes.
Mr. Harrison continued, "Well, this is awkward, but my law firm is having a cookout Sunday, and I'd love to have a date, would you come with me?"
"Oh dear God," she thought. Talk about overplaying your hand. Still, she needed about 10 more minutes, and a cookout wouldn't be the worst thing. Shoot, if he really was the best divorce attorney around, she could look at this event as job networking. She might also get herself out of this situation in an easier manner than expected if she agreed to go.
"Absolutely," she replied, "If you'll do me a little favor."
As he agreed to any favor, Chelsea moved his hands on to her 34 C size tits (over the costume of course) and kept kissing him. He may have been too much of a gentleman to initiate the groping, but once there, his hands were busy. He had nice hands, Chelsea thought, though it was obvious that he had little experience with this. Chelsea moved her hand to his pants and began tracing and stroking his dick through his pants. Almost immediately, he exploded inside his pants.
"Damn, that may have been too fast," she thought. Thank goodness she didn't laugh out loud at Mr. Quick Draw. In high school or college, she would have been merciless to a poor guy who had done that.
She kept rubbing the front of his pants until she was sure that he was completely done and asked him to, as her favor, please wait there for one more minute while she checked on something in the hall. He smiled and agreed, and she got dressed and left the room. She peered into our room, saw that we were finished and getting dressed and went back. Upon arriving back, she turned to Mr. Harrison and said, "They are almost finished; I didn't want us to get in trouble so I grabbed this contract."
Mr. Harrison was amused at the 26 year old paralegal thinking that he could "get in trouble" and almost chuckled. He didn't seem to notice that Chelsea had picked the agreement up off of the floor not brought it back with her; I guess his mind was on other things.
Chelsea continued, "They made a couple of changes, so if we can just sign the witness lines, I'll go slip it into the stack. That way nobody will ever have reason to ask where we were or what we were doing during all that time." Chelsea quickly signed he line and handed the form to Mr. Harrison.
Her suggestion actually sounded pretty good to Mr. Harrison who really wanted to just get to a rest room and clean himself up. He signed the forms, handed them back to Chelsea, excused himself and left the room. He didn't even look at the agreement; he couldn't have had any idea what he had just signed. He probably thought that we had made some small changes, not replaced the entire agreement.
Chelsea went back to the conference room and announced that she and Mr. Harrison had reviewed the new agreement and signed it. We were very impressed; we believed that she could distract Mr. Harrison long enough, but we had been worried that she may not have been able to get him to sign it. We may have had to encourage James to order him to sign it, which could have led to more discussion about our changes. Mr. Harrison then came into the room, packed up his briefcase, and thanked us all and shook our hands. James thanked us all profusely. I told him that I would see him at home and that we would have a wonderful weekend.
Now it was my turn to feel the ecstasy! I was going to marry a man whom I loved, who was loaded financially, and who had just thanked me repeatedly for, in essence, totally fucking him over on the prenup.
I was going to live completely on his money. I would either have an account that covered all of the household expenses, including my personal expenses, such as cars and clothes, or he would choose to add me to his primary checking account, thus legally making that entire account half mine. Further, I would receive $2500 per month for life, either as an allowance or as alimony. This money was for, well, nothing. I only had to buy about a dozen new lingerie outfits to look like his favorite Playboy models. What would that take? Maybe half of my first allowance?
Additionally, I would get to keep 100% of all the money I made as a Pfizer rep. My entire salary would go straight to savings, in my name, only, and it would add up very quickly like that. I could have my own million in 10-12 years. Then, if we divorced, I get all of my money, $2500 per month for life, about a $350,000 home completely paid for, and he would have to buy me out of the equity in his own medical practice. I almost felt bad about that last one. We knew that James had incorrectly understood the early clause regarding his business as meaning to keep it all his forever, but Samantha had clearly stated that what was his permanently was what the practice was now. She had brilliantly decided to bring up the future equity issue by lightly whispering it in his ear as he was practically receiving a blow job from me, his first one nonetheless. Still, I guess he could have told us to stop and not initialed or signed.
WOW! Maybe this prenup thing wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Samantha's career took off; when the partners in her firm saw the agreement that she had supposedly negotiated with Mr. Harrison, they immediately promoted her. The partners saw that her client had a prenuptial agreement that gave her more than she would have gotten even if she had divorced with no prenup. This whole thing was supposed to protect James, but in fact, had been totally one-sided in my favor. They had never even heard of a prenuptial agreement in which the stronger financial client had given up so much to the other party. Within a year she became a partner herself and is now the firm's top negotiator.