Drake
Damn, the little girl was getting to be like her mother. Not in looks, but in attitude and behavior. Lorena and Cleo are about as different in looks as you can get. Lorena is all sultry dark hair, curves busting everywhere, sly, smoldering looks at the most inappropriate of times. Of course I’d noticed her in that housecleaning outfit. She’d hemmed the skirt until it was just inches below her puss and bent over all the time, flashing her ass, making sure that I saw her wet cunny because she purposefully didn’t wear underwear. Vacuuming was never so provocative.
And if you’re wondering why I didn’t report her to her agency for her “unprofessional behavior,” it’s because I was a horny bachelor, a forty-five year old guy who worked all the time. My real “wife,” as you’d call it, is my company, News Enterprises, and there’s no woman who can come between us.
So Lorena was a nice distraction, someone that I didn’t have to wine and dine, pay attention to, or even properly date. I just took what I wanted, when I wanted, at my convenience.
And it’d worked out well … too well. Lorena understood exactly what I needed and never whined about the situation, instead accepting her place, accepting the fact that there was no wine, no flowers, no nothing. There was no pillow talk or typical dating stuff – she was a means for physical release only and she knew it.
But the woman was wilier than I gave her credit for. I got so accustomed to the situation, so set in my ways, that she persuaded me to marry her. Can you believe it? Drake Markham, powerful billionaire, married to his former housecleaner. But the woman was stealthy.
“Mr. Markham,” she said one night when my cock was still buried in her twat in the aftermath of sex, my breathing still fast and hard, right when I was the most vulnerable. “Wouldn’t it be nice to be married? Wouldn’t you like to have me exclusive to you?”
What the fuck? She was sleeping around? With who, Carlos the pool boy? Stokes the butler? What the fuck?
“No sir, I’m not sleeping around, I promise,” she said, looking at me sultrily from under her lashes. “I’m just saying … other men are interested too, you know. Maybe I want to get married,” she hinted darkly
And so I’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book. I couldn’t stand the thought of someone else’s dick in her vagina and so I signed away my freedom, making it legal in a civil ceremony the next weekend. Fuck fuck fuck! Looking back, I have no idea why I was so fucking impulsive, I should have gone on a two-month trip to the North Pole before acting.
But what’s done is done, and I’m fucking married now. Not that it was so terrible at first. Lorena and her daughter moved into the Big House, Lorena into a suite right next to mine and she was initially attentive and supplicating, offering herself at every chance.
“Oh Mr. Markham!” she’d moan beneath me. “Your dick is so good, so big!”
But Lorena’s been acting weird, sloppy and oddly secretive recently. Take my last business trip for example. I was in her bed the minute I got back, and she put out but it was different. After I came the brunette swung her legs off the bed and got up.
“So soon baby?” I drawled, taking in that curvaceous form.
“Oh yeah, just going to step into the shower,” she said, her voice disappearing into the bathroom. “Just getting clean!” she sang.
And I heaved my big body out of the bed, trailing her into the en suite.
“Maybe I’ll join you,” I growled, only to stop short when I saw what was on the counter.
Because instead tying up the used condom and dropping it into the trash, the rubber was lying on the counter like a dead piece of plastic.
“Honey, didn’t you forget to throw this away?” I asked, eyebrows raised. I’m not squeamish or anything but it’s just weird.
And the woman merely sighed and wiggled her hips from the steamy shower stall, not bothering to answer.
“Come in and get it big boy,” she breathed, opening the stall door invitingly.
Of course, I was on it like a flash. I was in that tiny space, taking what was mine all over again, the weird condom situation notwithstanding. Oh well, maybe things were a little out of order because she was so stunned from the mindblowing sex.
But it actually happened a couple times. Lorena would always take the used condoms and forget to throw them away, which frankly was just unsanitary especially for someone who used to be a cleaning lady.
“Baby, what the fuck?” I demanded, annoyed again at seeing a used condom next to the bathroom sink again. “What’s going on? Why aren’t you ditching these things?”