Mistresses Incorporated Pt. 01

"And you want to talk to him," I said.

"He does know I'm good at my job since I got him to let me look at his portfolio and gave him some convincing advice. So yeah, I hope to find out what Michael might have discussed with him. I'm pretty sure your brother is pretending to feel things out about selling off, but it's possible he might be further along. Do you mind if I borrow your shirt to get to the bathroom?"

"Sure. So how is this going to work?"

"Can you be at your home in LA by Monday morning?"

"Sure."

"We'll take care of it then."

"Okay."

She looked sexy in my shirt, the tails barely hiding her pudendum and her sexy, round little ass. I had to get up and express it with a long embrace and kiss.

"You sure you have to go?" I asked.

"Unfortunately," she said.

"Want me to wash your back?" I asked.

She laughed. "I said a quick shower."

Just after my bedroom door closed I heard conversation muted by the walls to make it indecipherable. Both voices seemed to sound female. "My sister," I thought. She and her husband probably were using one of the other rooms on the floor. A knock on the door and her voice asking, "Joe," proved it.

"Just a second," I said, and quickly pulled on my pants and a t shirt and opened the door.

She smirked and shook her head. Linda was born between Michael and me, with Sarah being the youngest of us, the baby of the family. Two to three years between us in age. Like our mother, Linda was a handsome woman rather than pretty and on the tall side. Sarah seemed to have gotten all the genetic markers that created beauty, though Michael I suppose was an attractive man. Like Linda with our mother, I took after our dad, the most Jewish looking of us siblings. Just physically though, because I was the black sheep. I was the only one not to join the family business, Linda in charge of personnel for the main liquor distribution company and the staff at corporate headquarters, while Sarah, after threatening to become an actress when in high school, ended up taking my supposed position as corporate lawyer, though as assistant at this point, and the way things were looking, it would be as far she went working for Michael.

"And I thought big brother was the stud," Linda muttered.

I shrugged. "I didn't think anyone would be up here," I said.

"Where else would your sisters stay?" she asked.

"So you just arrived?" I asked.

"Some of us have to work for a living," she teased. "But no, though we did arrive a bit late. I just hadn't brought up my stuff. I came up with Sarah. She had to work extra late, and my asshole husband was being an asshole about coming to my home and watching the kids."

"What?"

"I guess Steve wasn't just checking out rocks with all his travelling." Steve was a geologist, looking for gold. He tended to be gone more than he stayed around. "Once the divorce comes through, and he has time with his kids I guess, he'll be moving to Toronto to live with his girlfriend."

"Sorry."

"He's an asshole."

"I guess we know how to pick them," I said ironically. "So Sarah's stuff...?"

"Still in the car. She practically ordered me to haul it up here. I guess I forgot," she laughed. "She's with Michael still."

"I guess I can go schlepp her stuff up here."

"Thanks."

"Just give me a minute," I said and grabbed Cheryl's clothing on the floor, making Linda shake her head again. After knocking on the bathroom door, hearing the shower, I slipped in, enjoying the silhouette of Cheryl in the frosted shower door. "I'm grabbing my shirt," I said, "and left you your dress."

"Thanks," I heard over the sound of rushing water.

After placing her clothing in as dry and clean a place as possible, I put on and buttoned my shirt, pulling the ends into my pants, exposing my commando situation, but no one was there to see. "See you beautiful," I said.

"Looking forward to it," she responded.

I actually made the rounds at the party since most of the people remaining were family: cousins and uncles and such. Most were pretty soused.

"You seen Cheryl?" Harry asked.

"A couple minutes ago," I said. "About ready to leave?"

"Yeah."

"You okay to drive?" He looked flushed.

"Cheryl promised to be the designated driver."

"Good."

"See you tomorrow," he said while I moved away.

"Tomorrow," I smiled back. Tomorrow would actually be the family gathering, with an afternoon barbecue.

While finally heading towards the front entrance, I saw Cheryl finishing her descent of the stairs. I nodded. She winked. Our gaze lasted just long enough for us to pass each other.

I found the white Mercedes Sportster amongst the remaining cars parked along the circle and the long driveway. It was a gift from our father when Sarah passed the bar, so wasn't new like most of the other cars there, but kept in great shape. Dad had died a few months later, and Sarah was definitely a daddy's girl. It probably helped that she kept the car in a garage in Manhattan most of the time, but it was always a cherished thing for her.

I pulled out the large rolling bag and fixed up the smaller one on the handle and rolled it into the house. Again I passed Cheryl walking with Harry and she stopped and gave me a hug. "I'll see you Monday morning," she whispered.

"Can't wait," I answered quietly.

All too soon we separated and I glanced back to watch her leave. Force of habit with a gorgeous girl with a gorgeous ass.

Luckily the mansion had an elevator, slow and aging but safe. "Oh good," said Sarah approaching me.

"Done talking to Michael?" I asked her.

"Yeah," she responded, looking oddly confused. Sarah never looked confused.

"Everything okay?" I asked while we entered the small elevator car.

"I think so," she responded. "Nothing I can talk about, as if you'd be interested."

"I may not be interested in the family business, but I am interested in my sister's welfare."

"Sorry. But it really isn't anything I can share."

"So Steve and Linda," I shifted things.

"He's an asshole," Sarah muttered.

"So I heard," I chuckled.

"I thought he was so charming and funny. You know he's made passes at me?"

"No. Passes, meaning more than one? Definitely an asshole."

"Do all men think with their dick?" she asked when the elevator shuddered to a stop and the door opened.

"Probably," I admitted.

I followed her while she glanced into one room, then moved to another and entered it. Linda had taken Michael's old bedroom. This was a guest room. She sighed. "You know Dad used to sleep here when he and Mom got into a fight," she told me.

"I remember," I said.

"I used to come up here and we'd talk. It was our little private moments. At first I wanted to know why, you know. Why they'd argue. Why'd he have to sleep here. But then we...just talked, you know," she sniffled.

"You want to trade with Linda?" I asked.

"No. This is good," she smiled sadly. "So how's it going out west?"

"Good. The editing work is steady, and it looks like I'm going to have my screenplay shot."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I got my divorce and my script greenlighted at about the same time. I wasn't sure which to celebrate."

We laughed.

"I actually kind of liked Candy," Sarah surprised me. Candy as in Candice and she could be either, depending on the situation. Candy I could imagine to be a stripper's name or a porn star's name, and I always figured if she ever did those things, she'd just keep her name. But though sexually avaricious and adventurous, capable of multiple orgasms and preferring such states of ecstasy above all else, she'd never been what might be called a sex worker, and if she had, I don't think she'd been nearly as keen on sex the way she was, what with having men drool over her or cum on her for money. It would have taken the fun out of it. Candy loved to be the temptress, the seductress, knowing how to dress and move her voluptuous body and even play with her thick black hair in a way to attract attention from those she might be interested in, whether male or female.

But by day she was Candice, all business. Her degree in sociology with a minor in geography got her working for city planning in LA County, and she did what she could to discourage those who worked around her from seeing the sexual beast she was. Nice suits, but buttoned up, hiding her significant cleavage. Even wearing glasses, leaving contacts only for the night, or when she could let herself be comfortable, like when visiting the in-laws.

"Michael liked her too," I said.

"Did she ever..."

"She told me she thought he was kind of hot. I told her I'd divorce her."

"Because Michael definitely thinks with his dick."

"Pretty much. She thinks you're hot too by the way."

"Really?"

"You know she's bisexual."

"I definitely wouldn't kick her out of bed. Well, except for you being married to her."

"What?"

We'd been standing in the smallish room mostly looking at each other when we talked. When she confessed her interest, her face shifted towards the window. She turned her head and gazed into my eyes. "I'm gay, Joe."

"When..."

"Since...in high school it was clear. I just wasn't interested in boys. I tried, but it was disastrous."

"Disastrous how?"

"I was nearly raped. Somehow I got away. But of course my reputation was shot. But I didn't fucking care, because I had my actor friends. I had a beard and a girlfriend who dated my boyfriend's lover. Our little clique of weirdos kept me sane. That's why I went to college at Berkeley and Stanford, so I could be free to love who I wanted without the family knowing."

"I thought it was so you could be close to me," I sort of joked.

"That too," she smiled. "I really did want to be in Daddy's graces, but I also took the pressure off of you. You know I've always envied you, making it in Hollywood. And I always thought you were the coolest brother, just the way you are, and the way you realized your dream and everything. And Candy sort of adding to your charm."

"So when you always insisted we meet up in San Francisco or you came down to visit..."

"I actually lost a couple girlfriends because of that. They thought I was ashamed of them. I just didn't want it known."

"I wouldn't have said anything."

"I know you'd be cool with it. But just the chance you let it slip out."

"So are you with someone?"

"For a couple of years now. We have our own apartments, but she mostly stays in mine, because it's a lot nicer," she chuckled. "And she's totally cool about staying in the closet, because..."

"She's in the closet too."

"Yeah. She's Irish with a bunch of brothers and a father who'd never understand."

"And her mother?"

"She knows. Somehow she figured it out. I think she had some crazy aunt. You know the kind."

"Spinster."

"Yeah."

"Does Linda know?"

"She might suspect, but you know how she is."

"Letting sleeping dogs lie."

"Or helping out a certain dog to get away with lying."

"I know."

"You know she cleans up after Michael's messes?"

"For some reason I've been the go to guy to let out her anger. Which was why it surprised me when she didn't tell me about the divorce."

"I don't think she told anyone. Even though I knew things weren't great."

"The passes."

"Yeah. But it just came to a head recently. The asshole fucking called her an ugly cow."

"What? Fuck!"

"I know, right?"

After a pause, I finally confessed. "For all the dicks in the world, I'd just like to say it's a shame such a beautiful woman is off the market."

"Dick," she muttered, but ended up chuckling and giving me a hug anyway. When it broke, she smirked, "So you wouldn't mind if I go after your ex?"

I laughed. "Go for it. Except I seem to remember you having a girlfriend."

"Candy did mention to me she enjoys her threesomes."

"So she did try seducing you. But there'd be a lack of a certain male part."

"That's what strap-ons are for," she giggled.

"Too much information," I complained.

After we laughed, she asked, "How long are you staying."

"I'm leaving Sunday."

"So here through the official gathering."

"Do you think this party was kind of weird? All the strangers and no kids allowed?"

"Kind of. No orgies that I know about."

"And Michael's daughters?"

"Staying at some friends for a sleepover. And Linda's kids are being dropped off by the asshole tomorrow before he heads up to Toronto. I'm not even sure how they're getting back to the city."

"I suppose I could take them, although they'll have to leave early."

"When's your flight?"

"Noon out of Newark."

"So not too bad."

"Nope. Just a late arrival home."

"Sometimes I wish I could go with you."

"New York's a much cooler city than LA."

"But Hollywood is Hollywood."

"I suppose. Come any time you want, Baby Sister."

"I may take you up on it."

"Do. And bring your girlfriend."

"If you think I've disappointed the dicks in the world..."

"Hot hunh?"

"Gorgeous."

"Good for you. I promise to be good, if you don't mind my gawking overmuch."

"The less gawking the better."

"I'll be good. Promise."

She smiled. "Goodnight Joe."

"Goodnight Sarah."

Sleep came easy to me in my old bed, but only after being affected by Cheryl's lingering smell in the sheets, my cock becoming hard, and finding my jockey underwear on the floor to catch my cum after remarkably few pulls on my cock. Just her smell and the recent memory of tasting her and fucking her in the very same bed was all I needed.

Chapter 3

My smartphone both rumbling its vibrations on the bedside table and chiming repeated notes on marimbas from a Steve Reich minimalist composition I used for my ring tone woke me from all too brief of a sleep Monday morning. As expected, it had been a long flight and a midnight arrival at LAX, and then a couple beers and some antihistamine to finally relax me to sleep less than four hours before.

I'd enjoyed the Saturday barbeque with the family, the cousins and uncles, the nieces and nephews especially, and even the company of my oldest sibling Michael who seemed to have finally relaxed after the several meetings at the busy and suspicious party the night before. And the trip to the city Sunday morning with Linda and her two amusing and precocious sons had been surprisingly enjoyable as well. So I suppose I'd rested enough.

"You're home then?" the voice, female, though lower octave than most, asked after my rough voiced hello. Cheryl's sexy voice.

"I am," I replied.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Okay."

She ended the call. I glanced at my white tube shaped clock, its face constantly shifting colors with the circling second hand and my muddled brain figured out the minute and hour hand rested at 5:15. Robe or quick shower I debated and decided on the latter, focusing on face, underarms, genitals and asshole. Teeth flossed and brushed, I put on my long red velvet smoking jacket/robe over my naked body just as Cheryl buzzed from the entryway of my condo.

She glanced up and down my body when I opened the door for her and smiled. "Naked underneath?" she purred.

"Yep."

"Later," she said. "Your portfolio?"

"On my laptop. How did you know...?"

"That you have your stocks available to you?" she smirked. "I have my ways."

"Come on."

I brought her to my study where my laptop awaited her on my big old oak desk. Once I got her into my password protected file, she plugged in a memory stick, uploading some proprietary software and began furiously typing. Considering the magnitude of what she was doing, selling most of my stock, including the substantial amount in my family's business, and buying new stock, including MSINC, it took very little time, less than an hour. I made us breakfast while she worked: toaster waffles, bacon, cranberry juice and coffee. Somehow it didn't surprise me she preferred her coffee black.

"Done," she said. "Come here."

I stood in front of her. She opened my robe and took my half hard cock into her mouth and sucked. A couple minutes later, holding her shoulders for support, I came into her mouth. Pulling her to her feet, I kissed her before removing her blouse. She hadn't bothered with a bra, which I had noticed, so my mouth moved down to her breasts while my hands undid her slacks. Kneeling, I removed them and her deep blue silky little panties and planted my mouth on her pussy, already warm and wet and ready to be fucked. But I had plans other than that. Luckily the velvet robe I used to pad the tight knap carpet provided some comfort for my knees.

With her naked ass on the old and surprisingly comfortable oak desk chair moved to the front edge of the seat, her legs wide, I performed a sonata on her pussy with lips, tongue and fingers, with rising crescendos which weren't the climaxes she wanted. When one finally arrived, her panting accompaniment becoming a keening note containing my name, I began part two of the piece. This time though didn't end in climax. Instead she pushed me onto my back, guided my cock into her pussy and quickly achieved it on her own, the accompanying sound more of a growl from her.

I turned us over and stroked into her. Slow and gentle at first even though the legs surrounding my ass obviously demanded faster. My lips met hers for a lengthy kiss, gentle becoming more and more intense with tongues eventually added, until I broke it and moved to her breasts and jutting nipples. About then I succumbed to her demands, my long strokes becoming faster, my impacts against her becoming harder, until her build to climax became mine as well, and I fucked her even faster and more close in, just a couple inches out before banging deep against her. Meanwhile nipple sucking became nibbles and the other nipple got squeezed and twisted by my fingers and my other hand had two fingers rubbing her clit essentially squeezed between them.

We came at about the same time, and hers was so intense that it actually made her silent. Both of us trembled at the power of it. Both of us undulating where we connected, pubic bone pressing hard against pubic bone.

"God," she finally murmured, relaxing, though still trembling a bit. "What you do to me Joe."

"You're inspiring," I murmured back.

She chuckled breathlessly. "Am I your muse?"

"My sexy muse," I agreed.

Exhaustion struck me. "Maybe we should move this to my bed," I suggested.

"Good idea."

Both of us sweaty from exertion, and my spend, which had made a wet spot on the carpet, continued leaking from her pussy as we walked. Nevertheless we didn't stop at the bathroom we passed, heading straight to my bedroom. Slipping under the sheet and blanket, we hugged on our sides before relaxing on our backs. I became unconscious.

Awaking to an empty bed, I pulled on the sweat pants I usually slept in and went looking for my lover, finding her in my study. "Your sales made an impact," she smiled. "Your brother had to send a press release stating sibling rivalry."

"The old black sheep countermove," I chuckled.

"It seemed to work. The stock dipped after the sale but is rising higher now. He'll probably wait until he thinks it's peaked, probably by the end of the week, before selling the company."

"But won't that make the sale less appealing to the buyer?"

"From what Harry told me, Michael feels that the stocks had been undervalued compared to the value the various companies in the conglomerate could have if sold."

"Which was Michael's plan all along," I nodded. "Selling to the highest bidder would still be a deal for the buyer."

"And a lure as well, Michael playing to their egos. Admitting they could do better than he could with the businesses."

"So what was the party all about?"

"A couple things I think. Company bosses meeting future owners. Michael bouncing the idea of sales to the family. Even though some might have disagreed."