Oligarchs

The one woman show and Rosa's continued smooching left Franklin and William with raging hard-ons which one girl gripped with each hand and gently squeezed as the men inhaled again from the hookah. The other girl brought her mouth to the Indian's snatch and slurped noisily as she ate her pussy like a pig in a trough. Yevgeny felt his erection struggle against his cock prison and so he checked his watch. It had been about fifty minutes since he left the ball and the maid Henri would be in his room soon. He took one more hit from the hookah and left just as Franklin's dick was sticky with saliva and Rosa attempted to finger her new friend as the other girl lapped the drippings.

Yevgeny's butler Oswald had the honor of removing master's chastity belt in his trailer home sized bathroom every night. It involved unlocking a cage of sorts which connected right above his testicles so he could not forcibly remove it without getting rid of them also and a cylindrical cage a little bigger than a flaccid penis. Oswald noticed master's raging erection pushing against vinyl layered metal bars and drops of pre-cum but hesitated to remove them with his tongue. Some time ago he helped master release frustration with his mouth but for some reason he had not asked him to do so for a couple years. He wished he knew why this was so he could end it and please his master until he became married some day

"How was the party Master Yevgeny?" the old queer asked as he delicately removed the device. The young man did not look into his bald servant's eyes

"I'll have a wife in a week. I suppose that's news," Yevgeny said mundanely. Oswald's eyes nearly burst from his skull as he stared dumb in the space his young master had just left. He stayed there kneeling

Yevgeny entered his room through the bathroom's connecting doorway and found an exhausted old Rickman panting in an armchair. Having entered the bathroom through the maid's door, he did not see his dutious family servant who, as a little boy, had shined Yevgeny's father's shoes when the late Fillmore was Yevgeny's age.

"I'm sorry master, I looked everywhere and I couldn't find them. Sorry for the mess..."

Yevgeny scanned the room and found nothing out of place. If anything it was even neater now as Rickman fixed the damage he did and then some.

"It's OK. Turns out they were on my sleeves the whole time. I guess I forgot to tell you," he added humorously. Rickman gave a forced and exhausted laugh back and, with a slouch, slowly shuffled out the door. Yevgeny looked in the mirror as he undid his tux and hung it in his specially marked dry cleaning closet. He turned off the lights and slipped naked under his sheets but kept his back against the headboard.

It was no time at all before Yevgeny heard naked delicate footsteps upon his hardwood floor. He looked to the noise at his left and could faintly make out a figure but either from his eyes reacting to the darkness and or the drug he just smoked, it seemed to be two dimensional and be the consistency of water in a cold night. The figure raised his comforter and scraped its skin against sheets in a familiar noise that made him sleepy. It finally came close enough for him to see the delicate wrinkles and slight double chin of his former wet nurse Henrietta. She cuddled against him and wrapped her arm across his chest. Her head found its usual place in the nook of his shoulder and she inhaled his masculinity.

Yevgeny was not in love nor did he even like Henri on a personal level so luckily they stayed like that for only a short while before her draped arm found its way to Yevgeny's now soft cock. She gently squeezed and stretched his sack to loosen his bullets but soon moved to his prick. He closed his eyes and imagined his face buried in the Indian girl's snatch; his fingers would curl deep inside her and struggle to meet his tongue as it ravaged her engorged clit. His memory even produced a musky smell which seemed to hover above his nose and flare his nostrils. In no time at all, his cock was rock hard and stood a respectable height of seven inches. He was always surprised that his first free erection of the day did not violently shake like a person stretching after a long car ride but it felt just as relieving.

The sexual pattern Henri developed (though unknown to her) had long been figured out by Yevgeny. If she had been with him within two or three days, she usually savored his cock with a teasing blowjob followed by rough cowgirl to get his cum inside her as quickly as possible. There were other times where she had not been with him in a week or more and she went straight for penetration. As she slid her body under the sheets and along his firm frame, she surprised him by straddling his hips. They fucked no more than two days ago and this was the first breech of her pattern since he started observing. She flung the sheets behind her and hovered her mass above her young charge.

"I heard that soon I'll lose my baby boy to some bitch. Maria should have talked with your mommy..." she said as she ground her moist and hairy pussy against his cock onto his abdomen.

"I've been more a mother to you than she ever was. I should have made that decision!" she exclaimed wide eyed and with a deep stare. "It would have been me!"

Yevgeny gazed immediately behind her to make it appear he was listening. She frequently came into moods such as these and claimed many things. He just wished she would stick his cock in and let him release so he could go to bed.

"You know why? Cus you're my little boy!" she yelled maniacally as she grasped the base of his cock and forced it into her. His arousal from earlier kept his prick sensitive despite the break it took in the interim so he felt every millimeter of the older woman's pussy slide and envelope his dick. She took it slowly into her and paused occasionally to contract her vaginal muscles and milk him. Yevgeny groaned both times she did this. Finally she came to the hilt and slowly ground into him.

"All for mommy, all for mommy..." she chanted. Yevgeny's eyes finally adjusted to the darkness and saw the naked figure gyrating her hips into him. Her bulges at her waistline were firm but plentiful and her hanging breasts displayed small aureolas; both signs of her childless life. His first memory of her was when she took him to the zoo on his fourth birthday. Looking back he noticed little bits of her behavior which he later learned were signs of pedophilia. She always complimented his good looks, called him sexy, and left dirty magazines about his bedroom in the hopes, he guessed, that in his sexually restrictive environment he could only express it with her and she could love the boy she called "son" in the fullest way possible. Being smart as he was, he figured her out long ago and had for the last few years simply masturbated into her.

"...all for mommy, all for mommy..." Henri continued with strained breath. Yevgeny kept his arms at his side and simply closed his eyes to concentrate all feeling into the head of his cock. She bent and placed her palms on the bed by his chest for support. Their mouths were less than a foot from each other and her hot sweaty breath attacked him. She knew not to kiss him; he told her that from the very beginning of their affair. As a substitute she worshipped his chest with licks and kisses. His nipples were ravaged by her hungry tongue and his cock impaled her gaping hole every time her ass plunged onto him. Feeling his prick stir, he forced her head against his chest with one arm and her ass with his cock inside her cunt against his hips with the other.

"Yes! Cum for mommy! Give your mommy all your cum my little boy!" she shrieked.

Streams of seed from a night of chastity belt false starts injected into Henri's barren womb and his last small burst made him shudder; she replied with a loving gentle sway while his softening cock stayed within. Cuddled on top of him, she cooed as his heavy breathing raised and lowered her. Yevgeny allowed her this moment of closeness but, like the sex, did not appreciate it as much as she. The moment his penis limped out of her wet snatch, she went onto her back and produced a bit of cloth (from thin air?) he could not make out in the darkness. She raised her legs to her chest to keep Yevgeny's seed deep inside her as she stuffed the bit of cloth into her pussy like a stopper. The entire length of their affair she had done this and he assumed it was some impossible desire to have children or take a piece of him with her wherever she went; Henri quickly stood up and went naked into his bathroom. He reasoned she left her uniform in there before she slipped naked past an occupied Rickman to find a hiding spot.

Henrietta slid her fishnet stockinged feet into her heels and patted her nurse uniform's skirt to remove invisible wrinkles. Grabbing her bucket of cleaning supplies for an alibi on her way, she exited using the second door and walked down a long corridor away from the presently empty ballroom where a real mess she could be cleaning was. As she exited, she did not notice Oliver hiding behind a large potted plant and giving her a stare of pure jealousy and hatred.

Consequences of Yevgeny's centrally located bedroom were numerous. It cut his travel time anywhere in the mansion by half. Demands for goods or information he made in his adjacent study would be answered quickly. And a consequence many would consider negative—it had no windows. Yevgeny was convinced some time ago by his uncle that vitamin D wakes a man earlier than he needs and though Yevgeny soon realized it was the Sun's heat and light and not the vitamin that woke someone up, the old habit stayed with him and he avoided windows in his sleeping quarters ever since. So instead of the Sun's happy rays, Henrietta's seemingly shining smile and gentle poking woke him at approximately ten o'clock.

MORNING

Yevgeny wished for more sleep; this was the first time in months he squeezed in more than six hours and he intended to milk it.

"Get up master Yevgeny. Mistress has asked me to wake you up and meet your future wife in the bar...." she said with a look that said she wanted to milk him. His eyes widened, he rose from his bed, and walked to his closet to find a suitable outfit. "I was told not to tell you she was here so I would not dress to impress," she suggested as she left him alone. With uncompromising routine, he entered his bathroom where Oswald awaited him. He pissed, showered, and let the old man lock his chastity belt in place. Soon he would not have to wear it ever again and he thought this better than any sex he could imagine.

Henri's words on dressing to impress however had no bearing on what he wore when he first met his fiancé; why lie with clothing and imply one always looked a certain way? He was about to spend the rest of his life with this woman and he certainly would not wear a sports coat every second. He chose nicely pressed khakis and a designer shirt tamed with a tuck and a black leather belt that matched his shoes.

"Even when I'm not trying I look pretty good..." he said as he admired himself in his full length mirror.

The spacious bar was simply a one minute walk below to the second floor but without realizing it Yevgeny slowly strolled and clenched his fists. "It's no big deal!" he yelled at himself. "This happens to everyone—you knew it would happen—snap out of it..." At last he came to the entrance and put his palm against the modest heavy fire-door (it would be improper to give a bar grand entrance). He felt great heat in his stomach and his beads of sweat descended his forehead. He faintly heard music as he gently pushed the door open and peeked into a room; Maria and his blood aunt Constance sat, with tea cup and saucer in hand, facing the door but did not appear to see him. They spoke facing a woman, whom he could only see had brown hair, who sat on a high backed couch. He nodded as he reasoned this to be his cousin; unfortunately he had never really talked to her and could not recall her name nor what she looked like.

Constance was an old woman of 51 who reminded Yevgeny of his mother. Her brown hair admirably fought Father Time and her hair grayed only at the temples and a small patch on her forehead but the rest of her body did not bear well. Her hair pulled back too tightly in a bun, her forehead had a gloss which reflected ricocheting light beams coming from lamps and reflecting against the fine dish and glassware housed in their displays. Whenever she spoke she habitually tucked an invisible lock of hair behind her right ear but from what he knew first hand, it was all an act part of the second and third guessing that happened in the oligarchy. Behind those eyes laid a beast he reckoned no one but her husband (more playfully) and his enemies (more constructively) ever saw. Deception equaled survival.

The mystery cousin set two objects which gently rubbed against each other in a high shudder, presumably a matching cup and saucer, upon a table he could not see. She rose and walked left to a bar tended by the young butler named Drew, presumably asked for a drink, and received a pinkish liquid which she drank deeply of. Constance gave an expressionless stare at the handsome young man serving drinks clearly to hide whatever she was thinking as she gazed at his strong chin and broad shoulders.

Yevgeny stared at his cousin as she stood there emptying her drink at this early hour. She defied not only common social obligation to dress well with family and friends but also the stricter standards for "courtship" by wearing bright dark-blue overalls and a short red shirt which showed some of her waist. Her back remained to him so he did not see her face but even if he could, he was certain his eyes would remain at her most identifying feature—her ass. Though she did not appear fat, Yevgeny speculated that on a bodymass/height index chart, her ass would catapult her into obese. A pear to an extreme, her hips were far wider than her shoulders and it was beyond hope of concealment. She finished her drink and turned to the door where she spotted Yevgeny. Realizing he was caught, he wiped his brow and bolted through with overcompensation as if he were just coming to the door and walked to the three women.

"Aunt Constance. It is a pleasure to see you again..." he spoke with genteel warmth. He silently awaited her or Maria's reply but did not look at his cousin who was now sitting back into her couch.

"Um..." faltered Maria "You remember Edith Zamyatin of course," she said answering her internal rhetorical question.

"Of course," he lied with a polite nod to her. Her name back into his mind, he recalled a thought some years ago when he first wondered how a Russian was given a name like 'Edith.' He gazed at her face for a moment; she was an average beauty with an average nose, average lips, untrimmed eyebrows that, though not a jungle, showed she cared little of beautification, and steel-blue eyes with a flint of cunning. Could his stepmother's punishment for him be a trap instead of a burden?

His fears were briefly sullied however when he noticed something else about her face; he glanced at Constance to be certain but had already arrived at his conclusion. Edith had the same bone structure as his mother or more accurately, her mother, his aunt. The defined jaw line and chin with the same Asiatic cheek bones. On a skinny woman it would be stern and unattractive but on normal or voluptuous women it was very motherly; still authoritative but compassionate and knowing; her slight age advantage, he guessed to be a few years, reinforced this perception. The women on his mother's side always had this trait and they were the more beautiful for it. As the thought left him, the music he first heard when he cracked the door crept into his consciousness again.

"I'm sorry we cood not make it to your birthday party. A snow storm grounded our plane," offered Edith who looked into Yevgeny's still staring eyes. He heard her accented English and took his mind out his daydream.

"Yes..." he said in monotone "...we could have had a dance together. Well—we have the next week to reacquaint. I don't believe we spoke much the last few visits."

"No we haven't. What are you doo-ing later too-night? I've noticed you have a splen-did garden and the weather hasn't become bitterly cold yet."

"Today is my day away from the office. I suppose I can give you a stroll through the grounds seeing as how this will be your home from now on." Edith smiled.

"Excellent. Shall we meet by the fountain in back at nine?"

"Certainly. I look forward to it."

"Excellent. Now zit down...." she said with a playful smile as she patted the cushion next to her "...you standing like that is making me nervous." Yevgeny suspected her cheerful behavior was the result of one of two things: Either she was genuinely direct, honest, and nice or she was cunning and had a plot best hidden if she was direct, honest, and nice. No matter her motives he resolved to play along and not show his next move because he had not the first clue of what to do.

Yevgeny did as Edith instructed and as if by magic a cup of tea was before him. He brought it cautiously to his lips to test it but the heavy inhalation of the smell overwhelmed his nose and he coughed slightly spilling miniscule drops of the burnt umber liquid. Edith smiled politely. Her mother said his foolishness was an act just like hers. That he was not actually shy and clumsy in real life just as she was not ignorant of business was possible she supposed but she already began to doubt her. She may just have to use him for children and run Fillmore Shipping herself. Realizing she appeared to be deep in thought, she quickly washed the concern from her face and resumed the vacant smile to convince Maria she had picked the perfect ignorant match.

As with all conversations with the women who did not manage or own corporations, the conversation shifted to gossip. Yevgeny pretended to have little interest and find it anathema to his cut and dried world of profit and speculation but even he admitted to himself it was a great way to keep tabs on his far flung relatives.

"...and who knows what can happen to Mackenzie, Oldenburg, Nadelbaum, and Ingraham. The firm wouldn't allow such behavior to tarnish their image and the conservative press would surely pick up on this story of sex," said Maria.

"I know!" replied Constance. "Impregnating out of wedlock is bad enough..." she meant "bad enough" for the three thousand or so people connected by marriage or blood to 95% of major world industry "...but she was so young too! I'm not sure what the age of consent laws are in that country but no matter what they are I'm sure he was at or beneath them when he acted."

They were talking about Yevgeny's third cousin Jerome. He accidentally impregnated a young Vietnamese domestic after she reached legal age (18 in his country) but there was some question to whether the affair began before she could legally consent. Even if the underage concern was not around, impregnating a domestic at any age showed irresponsibility. Such things ruined leaders and he feared Jerome might lose all entitlement simply because he had a fetish and his European wife could not fulfill it. Yevgeny assured himself he would never get in that situation. His selection of Henrietta for sexual release was based solely upon her access within the home and her, doctor assured, infertility from an infection she suffered when he was 25. But from what he saw already as his cousin downed a third glass of pink liquid which he smelled to be cranberry juice and vodka and asked...

"So where are the cowboys? When we drove from the airport all I saw was city and corn. What about the cattle drives and gun fights?"