At least in my own mind I, Jeff Lowell, am a classic "unlucky in love" guy. I'm sure that an objective observer would have a different take; this hypothetical objective observer might say that my standards are too high given my physical attractiveness (or lack thereof), that I do things that chase away potential mates including being unnecessarily sarcastic, that I'm more concerned about myself than others, etc., etc., etc. Since this is my story, however, I'll go with the "unlucky in love" scenario. Being unlucky in love makes me very sad - because I really want a long-standing relationship with a woman.
Although I'm unlucky in love I do have a number of things going for me. At 32 I'm still young, I'm smart, I have good business acumen and because of that am rich as a result of my own effort (no inheritance), and I'm charitable both with my time and money for worthy causes. I might also say that I have a number of decent to good friends, but I often wonder whether they are my friends because they like me or because they just like the things that I buy for them and the places I take them to at my expense.
Despite being unlucky in love I have had no complaints regarding my sexual performance or the length and girth of my cock. In fact, I really must have something wrong with my personality as far as it relates to being a boyfriend because all of the women that I have fucked (and eaten out - I make a point of doing that) have unequivocally physically really enjoyed themselves. Typical of their responses after we have been dating a while, however, is what a girl named Kate, who I dated for a few weeks when I was 23, said when kicking me to the curb: "Too bad you're such a putz, Jeff because you are a really good fuck."
There is a drawback to having the friends that I do - besides wondering if they associate with me only because of my wealth. Many of my friends are married couples, and some of the wives are as sultry as a steamy tropical breeze on a cold winter day. When in a bikini (I always have to have silvered sunglasses on at the pool or beach) Mary Jenkins has a body that no sculptor or artist could possibly do justice to; Cheryl Bouton is a blonde version of Jennifer Lopez; Paula Crawford has a face like Helen of Troy and thighs like a young Tina Turner; and last, but not least, Gail Preston has the "it" factor to the nth degree and despite a small chest and oversized ass can have any man's tongue dragging on the ground if they interact with her for five minutes.
At large gatherings I do OK with the sirens, Mary, Cheryl, Paula, and Gail, even if they casually flirt with me. However, in small groups I often get tongue-tied around them, much to their enjoyment. I've tried to be very nice and respectful around them at all times and, with their husbands' indifference or permission, have given each of them some things that I passed off as costume jewelry from some of my trips abroad, although the wives know that there's nothing "costume" about the necklaces, bracelets, and earrings.
One thing that I've noticed about these four sultry wives - they all seem to strive to be financially independent from their husbands and the fastest way to get your balls busted is to patronize them. They sometimes ask me for investment or business advise which I am happy to give.
Since I have a head for business, an entrepreneurial spirit, and always keep a sizable amount of cash handy, I often get pitched business ideas, almost like I'm a one-man version of the popular TV show "Shark Tank." One of those pitches led to this story.
One of my acquaintances, who is on the periphery of my circle of friends, is Ty Crystal. Ty is a better than average looking guy, always full of ideas, most of which he doesn't have the total skill set necessary to implement well enough to make a lot of money on. He is outgoing and probably would be a good salesman if he worked for a big company, but prefers to call himself an entrepreneur.
Ty's wife, Stephanie, is a classic extrovert. While her face is probably a seven on a ten-point scale she is hard to miss or not react to because she has a spectacular set of knockers, which she doesn't mind shaking around or almost sticking into your chest if you're talking to her face-to-face at a party. She is a what-you-see is what-you-get type of person, and she has no qualms about telling anyone who will listen that she is primarily motivated by sex and money. Some of my acquaintances call her a gold digger, although Ty doesn't seem to have enough money to bear that out.
Ty cornered me at a party and talked me into allowing him to make a presentation to me the next week of one of his new ideas. I reluctantly agreed and the next Thursday at 7:30 p. m. he was in my home office with Stephanie and a few prototypes of what he called "Sloth Glasses."
Stephanie had never been to my house before and it was obvious that she was impressed. She oohed and aahed, and made many complimentary comments.
Ty's basic pitched idea was non-prescription glasses (although the concept could also work with many modified prescription glasses) that had a lens system that allowed a wearer to read or watch TV while lying on his/her back, without having to sit up. Indicating that at least he wasn't stupid Ty had Stephanie - in a low-cut dress of course - lay on the couch in my office to demonstrate them (as well as display a significant portion of her ponderous tits).
The general idea of the Sloth Glasses appealed to me; I could see a potential market. However, I was concerned that Ty's business plan was not sophisticated enough, and that it might require a lot of work for me to implement. I told him that I would consider it, however, and when he and Stephanie left he vigorously shook my hand and she pressed her large mammaries against me in a too-familiar hug.
Once my cock deflated from the condition it reached as a result of Stephanie's hug, I thought some more about the Sloth Glasses. I decided that they not just "might," but definitely "would," require too much work on my part to make a significant profit from them.
While I thought that I had made a final decision about the Sloth Glasses when I called Ty the next day and told him that I wasn't interested, apparently Stephanie had other ideas. It turns out that she was more sold on this idea than even Ty was, and saw it as a chance to seek the financial comfort she wanted but didn't have. She called me almost daily for two weeks giving me anecdotal information about how effective the Sloth Glasses were and trying to get me to change my mind. She told me that she had seen a patent attorney who thought that she and Ty (who were co-inventors) could get a good patent on it. She finally coerced me into meeting with her at her patent attorney's office.
While I still wasn't close to being convinced that the Sloth Glasses invention was a good investment opportunity, I admit that the thought of seeing Stephanie's big honkers again along with the possibility of patenting it got my interest up enough to take the step of at least meeting with the patent attorney.
I was almost sold by my review of the prior art and discussions with the patent attorney that maybe, just maybe, an investment would be worthwhile. I was at least convinced enough that I agreed to Stephanie's suggestion that I at least pay for the patent application (which she didn't have the funds to comfortably do) - so I gave the attorney a check to cover the preparation and filing costs.
After we left the attorney's office Stephanie gave me another mammary-crushing hug. Then she rhetorically asked "Why don't you treat me to lunch?"
In a cloistered area at a local deli Stephanie got right to the point. "I can tell that you're not quite convinced to invest Jeff, so I'm going to sweeten the pot a little. Rumor has it that you don't get laid as much as you like," she said with a devilish grin undoubtedly causing me to blush. I would have liked to dispute her comment, but since I had probably been laid a total of three times in the last year - once by paying for it - I couldn't dispute her. Then she continued "and some of the other investors in Sloth Glasses are people who can take care of that for you. If you agree to invest $50,000, in addition to what you just paid for the patent application, for a 10% interest, and you give me a key to your house I can arrange for some late-night visitations."
I was sure that she was teasing, so I laughed it off. "You have some prostitute friends?" I chuckled.
Her response was serious. "There's no prostitution involved. This is just an extra incentive - no quid-pro-quo. I'm entirely serious."
We bantered back-and-forth for a while, me still not quite sure that she was serious and still not impressed with the business plan, but finally by the time that we finished our sandwiches she had a revised proposition. "OK - tell you what. You give me $2,000 now for a first run of just a couple dozen Sloth Glasses. Over the next two weeks I'll send you one late-night visitor, and within the next month I'll make $5,000 in sales. If I do those to your satisfaction, you'll give me $50,000 and I'll give you 10% of the stock in Sloth Glasses, Inc. along with some more late-night visitations; deal?"
I pondered the situation. "Does Ty know about this?"
"No - and there's no reason that he should," she snickered.
I gave her a check for $2,000 and the guest code to the electronic keypad controlling the lock on my back door, and she gave me another mammary-crushing hug.
I was very busy the next two weeks after Stephanie and I went to the patent attorney's office, closing a deal much more promising and worth 100 times more than Sloth Glasses. I worked so hard that I was getting only about 4 hours sleep a night, and wasn't doing anything social. That, combined with the fact that I didn't take Stephanie's "late night visitation" statements seriously resulted in me all but forgetting her proposal.
That is, I all but forgot about her proposal until I awoke - my beside clock said 2:11 a. m. - when I heard the distinctive "beep" that my back door makes when it opens. Since I was absolutely positive that no one could defeat my state-of-the-art security system I started to wonder how the door could have opened since my maid would never show up at two o'clock in the morning. It was only when a naked female form was visible in the muted light at my bedroom door that I remembered the "late night visitation" promise from Stephanie.
The naked female had a mask on and didn't speak. However, she played a robotic voice snippet on her cellphone which said "Stephanie sent me here to serve you. You need to let me put this blindfold on you." She held out a blindfold when she said that.
The female form was very, very nice. I thought that if there was any seriousness to Stephanie's proposal that she would be the one, but this woman was definitely taller and had smaller tits than Stephanie. At this point my cock - which hadn't entered a pussy in more than three months - was like a piece of steel and tenting my covers, so I grabbed the blindfold and started putting it on. As I did that I saw the female put her cellphone on the night stand.
I did a pretty slipshod job of putting the blindfold on but my late-night visitor made sure that it was securely applied and that I couldn't see through or around it. Then she must have removed her mask because I didn't feel anything like a mask as her mouth engulfed my cock.
After my visitor demonstrated real expertise in sucking my cock for a minute or so she swung her crotch over my face. I thoroughly enjoyed licking her pussy and clit while fingering or squeezing the rest of her crotch area. Once my visitor let out a little chirp it seemed that she had orgasmed, and after a few seconds for recovery she stopped sucking, swung her body around, and then impaled herself on my cock.
From the moans, "oh-yes," and other sounds of pleasure coming out of her mouth I tried to see if I recognized her voice. My cock was enjoying itself so much from her bouncing up and down, however, that I could only concentrate on the pleasure I was receiving and soon stopped trying to figure anything out about her identity. It wasn't long before she screamed and I injected what seemed like an all-time load from my balls into her pussy. She collapsed onto me, the hard nipples of her tits smashing into my chest.
Because of my sleep-deprivation over the previous thirteen days, and the over-the-top emotional and physical release due to this spectacular fuck, I must have shortly fallen asleep after her tits hit my chest. I do remember snapping into consciousness for a few seconds when my cock was released from her pussy, but was soon out of it again.
When my alarm rang about 6:30 at first I was disoriented. I finally figured out that my blindfold was still on, I removed it, and turned off the alarm. My cock was caked with combined male-female hardened fluids, and I felt on top of the world. I do believe that I floated, more than walked, the rest of the day, and my good mood also seemed to clear my mind. The solution to the last knotty problem I had been dealing with regarding the $40,000,000 transaction that I had been working on the last two weeks suddenly popped into my mind. I closed on the deal the very next day and netted several million dollars.
I didn't know quite how to approach Stephanie about the late-night visitation. Should I mention it to her? Should I seem blasé about it? Should I call her to just chat and see if she brings it up? I was confused and conflicted.
That weekend I hosted a party with my normal group of friends (or hangers-on; I wasn't sure which). I was surprised that the four sultry wives seemed genuinely glad to see me, and each gave me a big hug and kiss on the cheek. While they were usually nice to me - especially since I gave them a valuable piece of jewelry about once every six months - they were never this nice before. I had invited Ty and Stephanie to the party but they couldn't come. That disappointed me since I hoped that by face-to-face contact Stephanie might bring up the late-night visitation.
I was pleased when on the next Tuesday after my party Stephine called and asked if she could meet me at either my home office or at my business office in a large office building in town. Since I was in the city that day I told her to come to my business office.
Stephanie showed up loaded for bear - and with a revealing top which required me to suppress my boner. She had in fact turned the $2,000 I advanced her into $5,500 of sales of 1st generation Sloth Glasses, and had a handful of testimonials from purchasers about how much they liked the product. To be honest, I was impressed.
In the middle of our discussions and me asking her questions, she suddenly got a fiendish smile on her face and asked "By the way, how did you like your late-night visitation?"
I'm sure that I turned red. "It was really nice...really, really nice," I coughed out.
"I shouldn't tell you this but you got high marks too," she giggled. Then she got a fake tough look on her face. "OK - time to shit or get off the pot. Are you willing to buy 10% of Sloth Glasses Inc. for 50 grand?"
"Will the late-night visitations continue?" I asked, sure that I was turning red.
"I think that I can arrange it once a week, or at least every two weeks," she grinned.
"One problem, though. My security system guest code automatically changes weekly. I disabled that feature for the last visit, but don't want to keep it disabled. Therefore, you need to call me on Monday of each week that someone will be visiting so that I can give you the new guest code."
"Sounds like a plan," she chuckled, "now have the $50,000 hand-delivered to this address tomorrow and have the courier wait for your stock certificate," she smiled, giving me the card of a corporate attorney. Then she gave me a tit-smashing hug goodbye, and I spent the next two minutes saying "down boy" to my cock.
The late-night visitations continued for the next two months, averaging about once every ten or eleven days. I quickly got with the program and whenever I heard the chime from my back door opening I'd put on the blindfold (which I kept from the first visit) and wait excitedly for my late-night visitor. I could tell that over those two months the first female who had visited came two more times; I could tell by the very distinctive sounds that she made riding me as well as the general shape of her sexy body. The other visits seemed to be from different women. They had different body shapes, differently sized tits, different sucking techniques, and lots of other differences in general. The one thing that was consistent was pleasure.
All of the women, probably four all together if I was right in my assessment, were fantastic fucks. It seemed that they enjoyed themselves too; I didn't think that they could fake the orgasms that they had - their bodies reacted too violently to be phony. Naturally I became curious about who these women might be. Since every time I saw them the sultry wives were nice to me I began to hope that maybe one or more of them were involved. I also wondered whether Stephanie had made one of the visits because one visitor had nice big malleable tits, although there were other factors about her that led me to believe that it wasn't Stephanie. None of the women stayed the night, and all but one - the really big-titted one - left after one fuck; she stayed for two.
After about two months Stephanie came to me again - I wondered why I never interfaced with Ty anymore, but since I enjoyed Stephanie's direct manner (and melons) I never inquired.
"Jeff," she said "I simply don't have the expertise to move Sloth Glasses along further. I'm getting resistance from Amazon and a couple of other players, and I'm having problems with production. Can you give me some advice - maybe even take over for a while?"
"Not for the 10% I own," I replied. "Let me look at your books and give me a summary of your problems and the names and numbers of the people you're dealing with and I'll get back to you."
She was happy with that and gave me the information.
Even though I was otherwise busy the data that Stephanie gave me piqued my interest, so I made a concerted effort for a week to see what I might be able to accomplish. After that week (and another late-night visit by the really big-titted woman) I met with Stephanie again. "I can solve the problems that you have and get things running right so that you can take over and make the business successful but I need 60% of the business, for which I'll give you another $300,000."
We negotiated back and forth for more than two hours; Stephanie even made a number of calls out of my range of hearing, seemingly talking to other shareholders. Finally, we reached a deal.
The basic terms were that we would dissolve Sloth Glasses Inc., the outside shareholders would be paid off making over350% on the money that they had invested, and Sloth Glasses LLC would acquire the entire business of the Inc. With an investment from me of $750,000 total I would become an 80% shareholder of the LLC with Stephanie and Ty owning the other 20%, and Stephanie would be employed by the LLC at a salary. The only strange requirement was that I would never be given knowledge of who the minority shareholders of the Inc. who had been paid off were, and that I would never seek that information after the Inc. was dissolved. I thought that strange, but agreed.
There was one more thing that I insisted upon. At least a weekly late-night visitor (of course that was not in the contract, but understood).
In the month that followed the creation of the LLC I solved all of the problems that Stephanie has experienced and got the company in shape so that she and Ty - with my guidance - could run the company's daily activities. That seemed to work out.