Mistresses Incorporated Pt. 01

"Harry?"

"For one, but I think he was more suspicious than anything. But he did argue about the future of the family."

"The next generation?"

"Them and your mother."

"Michael didn't say anything about selling the mansion did he?"

"I think Harry would have been angrier if he had. But there was a little anger."

"He suspected."

"Yeah. He noticed your mother giving a tour of the home to one of the strangers, a well preserved middle aged woman."

"Who better to show off the house than my mom?"

"Exactly."

"Fuck."

"Yeah."

"So why me, Cheryl? Like you already said, my stocks didn't make much of an impact."

"But they were significant, and you were the least likely to be accused of insider trading."

"So it was just a kindness and a way to provide more sales of your stock?"

"Isn't that enough?"

"Is it?"

"It's true that we'd prefer to fuck over greedy CEOs like Michael, but he's proved a clever asshole. So yeah, you were the only real win. And you proved to be a far bigger win than I imagined," she chuckled, pawing at my groin.

I moved her hand away. "Is this it? Seduction done?"

"I don't want it to be. Do you?"

"I hope not."

"So I was thinking of having you be the only male member of Mistresses Incorporated so to speak," she grinned, pawing my groin again. "Not only will my colleagues enjoy you, but we could really use your expertise."

"You...want me to be with your colleagues?"

"Believe me they could use your talent as much as me."

"My talent and my expertise, meaning..."

"Not just that remarkable tongue and cock, Joe. We're all quite brilliant at what we do..."

"And modest," I chuckled.

She shrugged. "But none of us are the skilled writer that you are. I've read what work I could track down, and you're not just an amazing writer, but remarkably adjustable to circumstances. Your screenplays are diverse, and the language always shifting as needed. Even your technical writing..."

"You tracked that down too?" I asked.

She shrugged again. "I'm good at what I do. And there is another Mistress, in house, who is expert at hacking and anything else to track things down."

"Your private investigator."

She nodded. "Not a sexy beauty like the rest of us, a bit on the butch side and gruff, although I think she's cute despite herself. Anyway I think you'd be useful writing or editing whatever we need written."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Press releases. Communiques. E-mails. Letters. Professional documents."

"Including blackmail?"

"Whatever's needed, but I bet you'd be a lot subtler than the rest of us. They're the enemy, Joe. We use their sins against them."

"People like my brother."

"Yep."

"I'd like something from you."

"Negotiating?" she laughed.

"You're too much of a succubus for that, and I have a feeling your colleagues are equally hot."

"They are."

"Just asking a favor."

"Go ahead."

"Could you afford to buy my family's home?"

"It would be a nice country estate to stay at," she grinned. "None of us owns anything so comfortable. And I presume your mother stays."

"And Carla."

"Of course. But I have a favor to ask in return."

"Go ahead."

"I want to meet your little sister and her girlfriend once Michael sells."

"I knew it!" I laughed.

Chapter 4

About a month later I had a visitor in the editing room of a major studio. She was slim and petite, with very short blonde hair, a t-shirt advertising a riot grrl band, a black leather vest over it and some loose blue jeans, a badge for the studio attached to a lanyard around her neck. A nervous energy percolated from her.

"Can I sit?" she practically whispered.

"Sure," I said, gesturing to a nearby chair.

She pulled off a red canvas backpack, the sort common with students, from her shoulders and rested it in her lap when she sat. Her petite stature made her seem the age of the usual college student, but something about her made me guess her equal to my age. Her eyes maybe or the configured expression of her face revealed more maturity than someone in her early twenties.

A stack of paper emerged from the backpack, and she handed them to me. "My colleagues want you to work on these. They're stacked by priority. Any paper resulting I'll pick up here on Monday as well as the memory stick," which she handed to me. "There'll be e-mails and some work on the internet..."

"You want me to work on my laptop?"

"Of course not," she replied, annoyed, and pulled out a slim laptop and handed it to me. "Just for our business, understand?"

"Of course Molly," I smiled. "I can see what Cheryl meant."

"What did she say?" Molly reluctantly asked.

"That you're cute despite yourself."

She harrumphed but I could see a slight upturn of her lips and began to leave.

"Wait," I asked.

"What?" she muttered, looking around the room. I got the message. Possible bugging.

"Just wondered if you knew anything about what was going on back east," I asked. Cheryl had hinted at something major going on with one of the Mistresses in DC.

"Soon," she frowned and left.

Michael's sales had just gone through a little later than anticipated on Tuesday. Wednesday a very upset Sarah called me. "Did you know?"

"That Michael is a dick? Of course."

"Joe!"

"You said you wanted to come out to Hollywood. Maybe getting away from Manhattan will do you good."

Sarah sighed. "I'll talk to Brenda, my girlfriend."

"You know she's welcome too."

"I'll let you know."

"Good."

The next evening she called to let me know she and her girlfriend would be arriving the following night.

I sighed the next day, looking at the stack of paper in my lap, realizing how busy I now was. I'd be editing until late and had set an alarm on my smartphone so I wouldn't miss picking up my sister at LAX. Time tends to get forgotten when you edit. And it seemed as if the weekend which I hoped was cleared now would be filled somewhat with these papers. I began looking through them.

The top item made me happy. A copy of a deed of sales of the family manse bought by an unknown woman. A post-it note signed Cheryl let me know the woman was a rich divorcee who could be trusted. I figured MSINC had benefitted her.

I'd only seen Cheryl twice since that Monday when she first visited my condo which had been spent mostly in bed, her leaving reluctantly after eating delivered pizza, making love orally in the shower and fucking relentlessly to one last shared climax. Once had been at Harry's home having dinner with him and his mother, after which, since she conveniently arrived via Uber, I drove her to my condo for our first night together, which ended much too early the next morning, the door buzzer awaking us. "That's for me," she said, giving me a somewhat smelly kiss and quickly dressing and leaving.

The last had been just the weekend before and was the best, her staying the entire time, again not leaving the condo until she left too early Monday morning. She even called a shopping service to provide food, combining her and my list, mine to cook us spaghetti, one of my better dishes. Besides eating and fucking, we actually spent some time relaxing and chatting. One can't fuck for forty-eight hours. We bonded, and I fell in love, and I sensed she did too, though neither of us admitted it.

So it was a happy surprise when, at the airport, she tapped at my passenger side window while I parked in the line of cars waiting a text or a call from the passengers ready to be picked up. I unlocked the door of course, and when she settled into the seat, I asked, "Molly?"

"Of course," she grinned and leaned over to receive a kiss.

"She dropped you off," I realized. "Do you even drive?"

"Not if I can help it. I live in Manhattan and spend way too much time in LA."

"Understood," I chuckled.

"Did you stash Molly's stuff?" she asked.

"Under your seat," I gestured.

She pulled it out and shoved it into her shoulder bag.

"I've missed you," I said.

"I've missed you too. And don't worry Joe, I won't be such a stranger anymore. How's your film going?"

"Which?"

She chuckled. "The one you're editing."

"Should be done sometime next week."

"Good. And the one you wrote?"

"Out of my hands being edited by Hollywood hacks."

"Like you?" she smirked.

"I like to think I make scripts better," I replied. "Hopefully they're as adept."

"You can blame them if the film ends up shit."

"I really hope it doesn't. It will be my first top credit."

"I hope so too, Joe."

"I'll be more available if it fails," I gestured to her bag.

"I prefer my lovers successful, Joe, as long as they're not assholes, and you're not. We're piling on now because we've needed someone like you for a while. Our demands on your time will be manageable, I promise."

"I'll never mind your demands on my time," I smiled.

She smirked. "Then expect even more demands once you meet my colleagues."

"And when will that be?" I asked.

"Patience Joe," she chuckled.

"I'm fine with just your demands, Beautiful," I said.

"We'll see," she giggled.

"New message," said a feminine voice from my car speakers.

I pressed a button on the steering wheel and the message I expected popped up on the dash. "Ready." it read. I pulled into traffic and drove to the arrivals area seeing my sister midway down standing beside a gorgeous redhead about a head shorter than her. "Wow," I couldn't help saying.

"She's hot," Cheryl agreed.

"What's she do?" I asked.

"Tax law."

"Makes sense."

I managed to slip into a vacated spot near them and, after popping the trunk, got out of the car. They didn't notice me until I did, probably having to do with the mundane two year old Buick I drove. Joe, the Hollywood hotshot would be in a late model foreign job, most likely some impractical sports car. But function had always been more important to me as far as cars went, and Buicks had always been sturdy and dependable. Plus the legroom.

After hugging Sarah and wanting to hug her girlfriend, I lifted their bags into the trunk. "Joe, this is Brenda," Sarah introduced us.

"A pleasure," I said lifting my hand which Brenda took using a firm grip.

"Thank you for this," she said in a sweet, slightly high voice with a hint of Irish, surprising me. "Sarah needed to get away."

"I heard you were Irish, but..."

"My da got a job teaching linguistics at Columbia and my ma decided the entire brood should come with. I became Americanized, a New Jersey girl, and naturalized along with rest of my family."

I nodded and opened the back door for them.

Cheryl turned her head and introduced herself.

"You look familiar," said Sarah. "Were you at that party at my old home?"

"Very observant Sarah," Cheryl smiled. "That's where I met Joe."

"But if you don't mind me asking, what were you doing there?"

"I came with your cousin Harry. I'm his financial consultant and have become a good friend."

"Okay," Sarah responded skeptically.

Cheryl chuckled. "Smart as your brother I see. We'll talk."

Sarah just nodded.

"How are you doing Sarah?" I asked.

"Aside from being jobless?" she answered. "Tell me the truth, Joe. Did you know?"

"You're a smart girl Sarah...," I started.

"Did you know Joe? Is that why you sold your stocks?"

"I had an inkling," I admitted, sort of. "That party...something seemed off."

"Fucking Michael," Sarah muttered. "He's talking to me about selling off what he called the chaff from the corporation when he's just going to sell the whole fucking thing! Asking about legal responsibilities and all this bullshit and asking if it was a good idea or not as if it wasn't already a done deal. Did Harry talk about it, Cheryl, since you're his advisor?"

"Something similar, and Harry was concerned," Cheryl answered.

"And you told Joe."

"They talked after they left the party," I said. "I didn't get back with Cheryl until later, when she called. But you know Harry can be read like a book, and you..."

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to. And the scene with all these strangers who were obviously movers and shakers and the heads of our various companies."

"But you couldn't be accused of insider trading because nothing was actually said," Sarah realized.

"Exactly," said Cheryl. "But you..."

"Was too close. Everyone he actually met with was too close."

"Yes, smart girl."

"Fucking asshole. Something else weird happened."

"What was that?" I asked.

"Yesterday, Mom called. Said some rich lady came by and showed her documents. I forgot Dad had given Michael possession of the house in his will, but the documents showed that he had sold the house, and that this woman had bought it...for my mom. A complete stranger." Sarah laughed. "What the fuck?"

"Did she explain?" I asked.

"Not really. She just said she'd outbid some other lady, and showed Mom a picture and mom recognized her as the woman she'd showed the house to."

"Nothing else?" I asked.

"Something about valued property or something. Investments or some such. But...how would she know it would have killed mom...if..." Sarah sniffled.

"Sounds like an angel," said Cheryl.

"If you believe in such things," Sarah chuckled through her tears.

"Maybe we should start," I said to Cheryl.

"Maybe," Sarah said.

Conversation shifted to Brenda and then to Cheryl until we finally arrived at my condo. After showing my sister and her girlfriend the guest room, Cheryl dismissed me.

"White wine?" I offered.

"Sure," said Sarah.

"Hungry? Cheese and crackers?"

"Sounds good."

I fetched the bottle and three glasses and came back with a board with cheese and crackers and left them.

I went to the office and took out the laptop and the papers, but decided I was too tired, so after finishing my cheese sandwich and my glass of wine, I went to bed.

A voice woke me up. "Joe?"

In the darkness I could make out a figure sitting on the bed. It looked to be a voluptuous figure in a chemise. "Turn on the light," I said.

When she did I saw beautiful red hair framing a beautiful face. "Here," Brenda said, handing me a glass of cranberry juice, which, once I propped myself up on a couple pillows, I drank down.

"Thanks," I said, setting the glass aside. "What brings you here, not that I'm complaining?"

"Cheryl suggested it."

"What do you mean?"

She moved over to me and straddled my middle, my cock buried beneath cover and sheet and sweatpants already beginning to harden by her presence.

"I like men too, but it's been a while," she explained. "Sometimes we play games where Sarah pretends to be a man fucking me from behind."

"Too much information," I smirked.

"Not from what I can tell," she smirked back, rocking against my hard on. "Cheryl suggested you'd be a good choice."

"And Sarah?"

"She's enjoying Cheryl."

"And you don't mind?"

"I enjoyed her too," and she leaned forward until our lips met. I could taste feminine juices. "It's Cheryl," Brenda assured me with a giggle before remounting the kiss. Soon I tasted the flavor on her tongue, and then I forgot about tasting anyone else.

The kiss ended long enough for her to discard her chemise, revealing a soft, feminine body with firm, substantial breasts and cherry red nipples and some softness at her belly that could only be pure female and could never be construed as fat. She leaned down for more kisses, her nipples rubbing against my bare chest while she rocked more emphatically on my fully erect cock still hiding.

Finally I broke the kiss so that I could fondle and taste her amazing tit flesh. By then she was practically fucking my cock without it being inside her, moaning from the pleasure of both the desperate rubbing of her pussy and the work my lips, tongue and fingers were performing on her nipples.

"Fuck," she finally exclaimed, moving to the side to fling off my covers. "Condom?"

"Side drawer."

She found one while I pulled my pants down and off. Before rolling it on, she tasted the precum oozing from my tiny slit.

"Let me taste you," I practically pleaded.

"I've had enough pussy sucking," she decided while rolling on the condom.

"Later?" I asked.

"Okay," she grinned and held my cock high for her pussy to descend onto it. We watched the head disappear just below her fringe of strawberry red hair. "Oh fuck," she moaned.

I couldn't agree more. She was tight. But she was luckily dripping as well, and I'm sure the lubed coating helped.

We watched my cock disappear entirely, gradually. Fully in, I felt the nudge of her cervix. "Perfect," she moaned.

I couldn't agree more.

She kept her ride slow and continued watching. I preferred watching her gorgeous face and the subtle bouncing of her amazing breasts, which became less subtle soon enough when she became much more excited, tilting forward and finding the perfect friction.

I gripped her ass, full and soft, but with hidden firmness, and pulled her harder against me. My head lifted up to bring my tongue to lap at her passing nipples.

When she froze, lost in a powerful orgasm, my mouth latched onto a nipple while my hands continued pulling her up and down on my cock. It seemed to extend her orgasm, and brought forth mine.

"Oh God, fuck," she growled, seeming to sense my explosion inside her, but maybe it was the grinding I was performing against her clit.

Once the orgasms dissipated, she murmured shyly, "Thanks," and seemed ready to leave.

"Wait," I said, holding the condom against my cock when she lifted off. "You promised you'd let me taste you."

"Did I? But what about the lubricant on the condom?"

"It's actually flavored," I chuckled. "Cherry like your nipples," which I nibbled.

"Ooh," she commented, obviously sensitive. She moved over me, straddling me face, which answered my question about sixty-nine or not. "It does taste like cherry," she said, mouthing my softened penis. "Not too strong though." She kept sucking it with the condom.

I brought her damp and swollen pussy down to taste, pausing to ask, "You're not going to remove the condom?"

"This is better. I don't like the taste."

"Okay," I chuckled and preceded to concentrate on her pleasure. The flavor of the rubber mixed with cherry soon disappeared with the growing abundance of her natural flavor. Her continued ministering to my covered cock vibrated with her moans, encouraging my recovery even more rapidly. Eventually though, her sucking ended and she pulled off the condom to make it easier to stroke cock, but mostly it let her breathe the heavier breath from my careful teasing of her cunt.

I coaxed her close a couple times, her hand practically frantic fisting my cock, before she begged, "Please Joe, let me fucking cum," and I sucked and lapped her taut little clit until she did.

Moving from underneath her, I fetched another condom, showing it to her. "Okay?"

"Yes please," she murmured and lifted her full round ass high.

I made quick work of rolling it on. Her fisting, and just her voluptuous sexy beauty had me excited. Pushing in created a moan from her with the words, "Fuck me Joe."

So I did, hard and fast. Her Yeses with each impact confirming it was what she wanted. Since she chose to rub her clit, I grabbed both her nipples like reins and pulled. All that friction made her cum and cum again. The third time I practically lifted her off her knees with my final thrust, pressing against her cervix while I release my seed into the safety of the condom.

When I finally pulled out and collapsed onto my back beside her, she rested against my side, giving me a gentle kiss. "Better than advertised," she grinned.

"I aim to please," I grinned back, giving her a kiss.

"I should probably get back to my girlfriend," she said.

"Any jealousy?"

"Me? No. Cheryl's hot, but..."