A Billionaire's Life Ch. 01

I was half-listening and half-scoping out the rest of the crowd when I caught a familiar face in the corner of my eye. And then I wasn't even half-listening to Taylor's conversation. Every ounce of my focus was on the simply GORGEOUS woman walking my way.

I'd never met her before, but the face was familiar because Ashlyn Scott was *THE* most beautiful person in the world.

No, I'm serious. People Magazine had her at number 1 on last year's Beautiful People List. She was 24, 5'11", and slender, save for her anatomically disproportionate breasts. Her superlative body was what made her Victoria's Secret's top model for the past year; and her striking face and coppery red hair made her the star of a plethora of fashion and cosmetic lines.

I was surprised she was at a party like this, made up mostly of business people and New York blue bloods. She usually ran with the Hollywood crowd. But unexpected or not, she was here and she was walking straight at me. I felt my breath catch in my throat and my pulse quicken. My Taylor was gorgeous and Cassandra was equally beautiful, but there was something about this flaming redhead that set my loins on fire.

It took every ounce of control I had to stay calm as she walked right up to me. And just when I was about to step forward and say something, Taylor turned and saw her. To my surprise, my wife's face lit up and a wide grin came to her face. "Ashlyn! What on Earth are you doing here?"

Both girls' arms went up and they hugged while giving each other air kisses, making sure not to mess up the other's makeup. "So good to see you! It's been forever!" Taylor gushed.

"I KNOW!" The redhead exclaimed. "It's too bad I'm just in town for a few days. Calvin Klein wants me in their next ad campaign. My agent thinks it'll get me more mainstream exposure to the youth demographic."

"Busy, busy, busy," Taylor smiled.

"Yes, well..." the gorgeous redhead swiveled her eyes over to me. I felt my breath sucked away again as her sparkling blue eyes penetrated right into the back of my skull. I am SUCH a sucker for blue eyes.

Ashlyn continued while looking at me, "Some of us haven't found that perfect sugar-daddy just yet." She flashed a radiant smile that made my heart jump up into my throat. And then she returned her gaze to Taylor and the two of them launched into a rapid-fire discussion in model-speak.

Meanwhile, I forced my attention back to the couple we were previously chatting with, at least until that conversation wound down and they went off on their way. And then there was nothing left for me but to hover behind my wife as she and quite possibly the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen chatted on as if I didn't exist.

Eventually, the girls wound down and actually included me in the conversation. Perhaps Ashlyn was tired of me boring holes into her chest with my eyes. She fixed me with a little smile and said, "So... Johnny..." She was also picking up on Taylor's use of my name. "Tell me what kind of man it took to make Taylor- fucking-Brynn mellow out and settle down." I loved the sass in her voice.

I smirked. "What makes you think she's mellowed out?"

Taylor punched my shoulder.

Ashlyn just continued. "Well, I've read the biographies and the Wikipedia article and some of the journalism. They're almost all about dates and money and financial investment projects."

Subtly, the gorgeous redhead had been sliding towards me and before either Taylor or I realized it, Ashlyn was just a foot away from my face and fixing me with a seductively mysterious gaze. "But I wouldn't mind getting to know the man behind the name a little more... intimately," she husked.

My cock was iron hard. I hoped she didn't notice it. More importantly, I hoped my WIFE didn't notice it.

I wondered at that errant thought. Taylor and I were very open about the sexuality in our relationship and she'd never been one to complain about me looking at other women. So why should I worry if Taylor noticed a gorgeous woman like Ashlyn could give me a boner? I exhaled to calm myself and regain my confident bearing.

"Not much to tell," I stammered before slipping back into Joe Cool mode. "I'm just an ordinary guy in an extraordinary situation."

"Don't be so modest, honey," Taylor interjected and put her hand on me, subtly guiding me back away from Ashlyn and interposing herself between us. "MY man is nothing short of incredible. He's brilliant, he's gentle, and..." Taylor trailed off as she let her tongue slip out along her lower lip. "He's AMAZING in bed."

Ashlyn's face lit up and she shared a little smile with Taylor before turning back to me. "Lucky girl," she drawled.

The rest of our conversation was much more mundane, but the sexual tension hung in the air around us until we were finally about to go our separate ways.

In parting, Ashlyn leaned in and pecked me on the cheek while hugging me very lightly, enough so that I could feel her firm breasts against my chest. And as she walked away I couldn't help but stare at her tight ass flexing in her slinky dress.

"Don't even think about it," Taylor's voice was low and stern in my ear.

"Huh?"

"Ashlyn? She's off-limits." There was a hint of jealousy in my wife's voice, something I had RARELY ever heard from her.

I turned immediately to Taylor with a questioning look of disappointment in my eyes. I HAD been hoping for Taylor's more common reaction of inviting the girl for a threesome. "Aww, really?"

"Really," Taylor stated seriously. She tilted her head back, her dark blue eyes stormy as her long bangs brushed away from her forehead. "She's a really good friend of mine. It would just be too weird.

Taylor's eyes flashed at me then. "And besides, it's only fair since you blacklisted Martin Dean."

"It's for your own good. I was just trying to warn you that Dean is dangerous. He's a predator."

Taylor fixed me with an intense gaze. "I'll stay away from Dean. Just don't go doing anything with my friend, okay?"

***

A few days later, I was testing out the furniture in yet another new room of the house. Only this particular "test" was giving me far more pain than pleasure.

"You're still in pretty good shape," she commented from above me.

Gasping for air, I couldn't answer. I pressed upwards with all my strength, pushing the bar away from me while straining to balance the heavy disc weights attached to each end.

Rebecca counted repetitions, "Three... four... five..."

She stood over me, almost straddling my head. In her skintight lycra shorts, I made out definite camel toe. A densely muscled stomach continued onward until I could see the jutting shelf of her tits protruding several inches off her chest, but fully encased in a black sports bra from this angle.

"Eight... nine... ten! OK!"

I grunted and started levering the barbell towards the rack while Rebecca held her hands out to spot me just in case.

Once I managed to settle the barbell with a heavy *clang*, I dropped my arms and started gasping. Three sets of that after so much time away from actual weights was simply cruel and unusual punishment.

Rebecca looked down at me. "Of course, all your exercise for the past month has pretty much been sex-related, hasn't it? You haven't been getting much of an upper-body workout."

I just whimpered and moaned at the burning pain in my chest and arms.

"Aww... poor thing. Did I push you too hard?" My personal trainer leaned over and pouted. Rebecca Raymonde herself was always in great shape. Keeping herself at a physical peak, she was toned and had well-defined musculature. But don't be confused, she wasn't bulky in the slightest; just lean and tight and obviously in great athletic shape.

And when she leaned over me I got an up close and personal view of her spectacular breasts. She'd shamelessly admitted that they were the work of a surgeon, but she must have had a damn good surgeon to come up with those beauties. The large and impossibly round tits hung forward into my face, only lightly restrained by the sports bra. Her brown hair had been braided into a long ponytail, which swung over her left shoulder as she leaned down to me.

"Well, you want to quit?" My personal trainer glared at me, playing on my ego and daring me to capitulate.

"No..." I wheezed, shaking out my arms to try and get blood flowing into them again.

"Okay. Let's get you some cardio." And with that, Rebecca led me over to an endless staircase machine.

I groaned as we approached it. "No complaining, John," she barked like a drill sergeant. "You bought it; you're going to use it."

"I only bought it because you gave Cassandra the list of all the equipment you wanted in here." I glanced around at the brand new and fully-stocked private gym. A hundred medieval torture devices awaited me.

"And we're going to put it ALL to good use. Now up on the stairs. If you do a good job I'll give you a little reward at the end. And if you're REALLY good you'll get the extra-special reward." Her dark brown eyes glittered.

Even in my oxygen-deprived state, I knew exactly what Rebecca was thinking. I had to admit it was an enticing carrot she was dangling before me.

I got into place while Rebecca stood by the controls and reached around to start pressing buttons. The stepper machine was basically a miniature escalator and it elevated me about three feet off the ground. And from this particular vantage point, I could practically see straight down into Rebecca's cleavage, her firm titflesh pressing together to form a vertical crevasse from lack of room in the sports bra.

Obediently, I started stepping as the machine kicked into gear, forcing my eyes away from her tits. "So, what have you been up while we were gone?" I asked.

"Oh, just relaxing a bit. I didn't realize how exhausting it was for me when Taylor wanted to work out EVERY SINGLE DAY leading up to the wedding. I went back and did the math. The three of you, including Cassandra, make up more than half of my business. So I had a little vacation of my own while you were gone."

"Really? Go anywhere nice?"

"Nah. Just stayed home. Did some jogging around Central Park for once. Although I admit I started getting so bored with sex once you all left without me," the pretty brunette pouted and shook her chest at me.

"What? Your boyfriend wasn't taking care of you?"

"Jeremy was fine. HE was happy I was paying so much more attention to him. But I missed your cock and I KNOW he missed Taylor." She sighed and folded her arms across the rail and leaned over. I smiled thinking back to the last time we'd had a foursome together. Sometimes I swear Taylor specifically hired Rebecca so that she could nail Jeremy.

"Well, knowing Jeremy, I'm surprised you're not bruised all over," I huffed as the machine sped up a few notches.

"I'm just a fast healer," Rebecca grinned. "He DOES seem to only have one speed though, doesn't he? Fast and HARD."

"And that's a problem?" I wondered.

Rebecca let her hand trail out and lightly she touched the bulge in my shorts. "Variety is the spice of life."

I thought about the various women in my life. Rebecca was certainly right.

One other thing about Rebecca was that she was a sadist. Well, not in TOO bad a way. But I think all personal trainers are sadists. By the end of my workout, she'd kicked the stepper almost all the way up and by the time I was done, she had me heaving for oxygen while laid out flat on my back across a padded bench.

Rebecca came over and patted my forehead. "Well, I think you've done a GREAT job for your first day back. Why don't you let me relax you and then we'll hit the shower. I can't wait to try out that new setup you've got in there," Rebecca grinned.

I was barely conscious when Rebecca knelt beside the bench I was lying on, tugged my shorts down to my knees, and then promptly took my cock into her mouth. Despite my exhaustion, I'd been looking forward to my reward and had gotten half-hard already. And once her agile tongue started working me over, I was at full-mast and she was deep-throating me with every thrust. Rebecca had Angelina Jolie's lips, and she was an absofriggin' incredible sight as her face pulled back and then went all the way down until those lips were pressed to my pelvic bone.

I could barely move. My legs were jello. My arms still ached and hung limply to the sides off the bench. But Rebecca didn't need me active to make this work. So after a couple minutes blowing me, she stripped off her shorts and showed me that waxed pussy I'd been peeking at earlier, straddled my hips, and impaled herself on my cock.

As she pumped herself up and down my shaft, Rebecca started counting repetitions, "Eight... nine... ten... ooh..."

I sighed and relaxed, letting her have her way with me.

The fit brunette athletically rode me to her climax, her muscles squeezing me so hard I actually felt some pain. She didn't bring me off just yet. Instead, she helped me to my feet and then led me into the brand new locker room and expansive shower system. There, she delivered on her promised "extra-special reward", and I got to bounce my pelvic bone off the rock hard glutes of Rebecca's buttcheeks while I drilled my cock up her ass.

I would never get tired of hearing a woman moan, "Fuck my ass." Rebecca was especially sexy when she was moaning it, and hearing her voice while I had her athletically toned body bent over before me would always be a wondrously pleasurable thrill.

Then, after a few minutes of pounding her athletically toned backside, I spunked my load up her anal chute, watching her muscles tensing up while I filled her butthole with my cream.

Once we cleaned up and toweled off, I looked over to Rebecca who was cramming her tits back into the extra-large sports bra and sliding her ass into the size-small shorts. "Lunch should be ready," I told her. "And then Taylor's workout is at what... one-thirty?"

"Yep. Maybe I should have left some of your cum up my ass for her to suck out as HER reward," Rebecca grinned. "And then, I'll cum again Wednesday."

***

*NOVEMBER*

"Miss Brynn. Mr. Kwong. Your ten o'clock appointment is here." The pretty brunette with the black square-frame glasses and conservative suit stood in the doorway to the Master Suite's private lounge. She pulled the long sleeves of her jacket lower in a vain attempt to conceal the light bruising on her wrists.

Taylor and I were snuggled together on an oversized lounging chair, idly talking while staring out across the blue ocean waters. It wasn't anything like Tahiti, but it would still be a few months before we stopped being amazed by the ocean front view.

Taylor glanced up at her own personal assistant and smiled when she saw the young woman trying to cover up the bruises. "Thank you, Charlotte. We'll be right out."

The pretty brunette nodded and then disappeared. Two minutes later we were out in the hallway.

"You've seen this designer's work?" I asked.

Taylor held my hand tightly, swinging our arms back and forth as we casually walked down the hallway. She glanced up at me. "Good stuff. Cassandra found this designer out of thin air. And when both of us like the work, you KNOW it's going to be good."

"It's too bad Cassandra isn't here herself," I muttered with some annoyance. "She's working WAY too much on other projects."

"If it upsets you that much, isn't it your place to change that? She IS supposed to be your assistant after all." Taylor squeezed my bicep reassuringly.

"Hmm, you're right..."

"Anyways, I suppose it's just as well. One less beautiful woman around for competition today." Taylor shrugged, no trace of actual jealousy in her voice. "Besides, this designer should be more than enough to hold our attention for the next few hours."

I looked at my wife a little more closely, seeing that little gleam in her eye. "Are you collecting your own harem out of home professionals?"

"What?"

"First there was that carpenter kid who built the bed. Then Jeff Lee, the architect. And now I see that look in your eye about this interior designer. Who's next? The landscaper? After the racket you made this morning with Charlotte in your little 'dungeon' I'd think you be satisfied for a few hours at least."

"The carpenter didn't last a week. Jeffrey belongs to Kaitlyn, not me. And as for this designer..." Taylor giggled and then gave me a Cheshire grin. "Well, you'll see... "

Even though our brand new home was livable, construction had barely finished before Taylor, Cassandra, and I returned from our honeymoon. Even then they'd only finished the main residence. Cassandra's stables, the guest house, and a half-dozen outlying buildings would take six more months. The 9-hole private chipping course would be another year.

Rather than complete all the interior designs ahead of time, we agreed to do the decorating once the place was built and we had a better idea of the size and the lighting. Today, Taylor was introducing me to her handpicked interior designer.

It was a gorgeous sunny morning, which showcased the architecture to perfection with elegant shadows and bright, natural light. I was looking forward to a good day. Just before we got to the foyer, Taylor gushed, "I just KNOW you're going to love her."

I almost stopped in my tracks. "Her?"

We turned the corner and my very first thoughts were about how young and pretty this girl was. From the slightly aroused gleam in Taylor's eye, I'd assumed the designer would be male. Instead, what looked like a Hong Kong runway model was standing in the Grand Foyer beside Edward, our butler. Rather tall for an Asian, maybe 5'9", her body was ideally slender and her gentle hips and above-average bustline caught my attention immediately. Taylor was right; this girl was JUST my type. As if to punctuate that thought, Taylor giggled and elbowed me in the ribs, momentarily interrupting my drooling admiration.

The designer wasn't even looking at us. Instead, her eyes were on the walls and the soaring ceiling. She wore trendy outfit and a short skirt that clung to her nice legs while she walked around the room. Her sleek, black hair went straight back and to the sides just above her shoulders, her makeup was light, and her eyes danced as she looked everywhere, up, down, and all around at once.

But while my hormones bubbled in eagerness to get to know her more intimately, my brain thrust several professional concerns into the forefront of my thoughts. I knew Asians tended to look younger than their actual age, like my mother for instance, but in the right outfit this girl could have passed for a High Schooler.

When the designer completed her circle of the Grand Foyer, Edward stepped forward and announced, "Miss Mia Cheng, sir."

I nodded and then she stepped forward to shake hands. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Kwong." She turned to Taylor. "So good to see you again, Miss Brynn."

"Miss Cheng," I began. "You come highly-recommended by both my assistant and my wife, and they have impeccable taste. But..." My words caught in my throat and I wound up blurting, "How old are you?"

I'd meant to ask her about her design experience. But her age was what I was really concerned about and the question just fumbled out.

Taylor startled for a moment at my faux pas, but Miss Cheng took the question in stride. "Well Mr. Kwong, I'm 22-years-old. To be perfectly honest, I only graduated a year ago and this estate would be the largest project I'd ever attempted by far."

Her English had a Hong Kong British accent which lent additional weight to her words, reminding me for a moment of my mother's speech. Miss Cheng's smile was confident and her eyes returned back to the architecture. There was a stillness and intense focus in her gaze that belied her youth. And without turning back to me she continued, "But I've been creating designs since I was a young girl and I know what I'm doing. I have all the credentials and recommendations Both Miss Cooper and Miss Brynn have seen some of my work and you're welcome to review it as well."