I need more.
More of everything.
And I’m gonna get it … some way, somehow.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sam
Being the first of seven sons means you’re expected to be the responsible one. Which means I feel like a total fucking asshole for being the last of my brothers to get home.
Shit. Our dad is really sick and I’ve been in New York, unable to get away from the trading floor long enough to check on the man whose sperm helped create my handsome ass.
He’s a devil, too, my father. Charming and fit, Ted Morgan made all the ladies swoon back in the day. And we know where we got our mile-high libidos, too. I’ve caught him and my mom in the act a couple times over the years.
It’s fucking gross, but yo, go Dad! Fuck, I remember being like six the first time it happened. Ted had Maddy tied to the bed, spread eagle, big bush on full display. He was blowing his wad all over her chest, talking about giving her the pearl necklace she’d always wanted.
Of course, I was too little to understand the scenario before me, but as I grew up, it became apparent how they made seven babies. They went at it like rabbits, day in and day out. My dad, my hero.
Because in my family we work hard and play harder. Maddy stayed home to raise us, which was entirely her choice. And I get it. With seven kids, the cost of sending us all to daycare would have been prohibitive. So yeah, Maddy was a real champ, raising seven high-energy boys while keeping our home nice, the fridge stocked, and servicing my dad’s raging sexual needs.
Of course, she was curvier when we were younger. Back then, she had a few extra pounds around the waist and my dad was the first to point out that a well-fed woman with some meat on her bones was the sign of a woman whose focus was on family, rather than herself.
But Maddy got skinny after we all left the house for college. She got real fit and slim, saying she was finally gonna lose that baby weight with the help of some weird pills, combined with the South Beach diet and Tae Bo. It’s fine I guess. I mean, it’s not for me to say what works and what doesn’t. Billy Banks has sold millions of videos, who am I to question his method?
So it’s fine. My mom’s weight is none of my business. And I guess Ted’s okay with it too. After all, this is the woman who bore him seven sons, let her lead life the way she sees fit. He still bangs her silly, though, I have no doubt. Well, maybe not so much with the stroke and all, but you get what I mean. Mr. Senior Stallion is finding some way, I’m sure.
A text blips on my phone, letting me know where the market finished. I pull double duty, working for a hedge fund and also serving as Chairman for my brothers’ company. It sounds fancy, but it’s not. The titles don’t mean shit because we all do some of everything. It was my connections that got the twins the funding they needed to get off the ground. I got VC investors in the door and sold them on the deal, dazzling the dudes with numbers and spreadsheets, comps and predictions. Hey, that’s my specialty.
But there’s no outside money anymore. We paid off those fuckers early and took back a hundred percent ownership. Then I put some of our assets into the markets, and my golden touch was verified as the cash grew into a monstrous pile.
So yeah, my little bros’ kernel of an idea back in college is now a massive behemoth, with a shit-ton of asset in diversified investments, minting the green stuff like we own Fort Knox. I’m a wheeler-dealer, with only one motive – to win, and win big.
But you wouldn’t know we’re filthy rich. I mean, my mom likes a Louis Vuitton handbag now and then, but what woman doesn’t? And my bros have vices, for sure. For Smith, it’s cars. He’s got a designer ride for every day of the week. That fucker’s dark blue Maserati is in the driveway right now, next to Ford’s custom Harley.
But don’t be fooled. Sure, Ford looks like a grease monkey, always wearing those dirty t-shirts while fiddling around with his bikes. But that asshole graduated from the best law school in the country, and serves as chief attorney at our outfit. Yeah, that’s right, when we do battle in the courtroom, it’s Ford who gets dressed up, making our case to the judge.
So yeah, we all have a role at the company. Smith as CEO. Me as Chairman. Ford as general counsel. Matt as our marketing dude, and the twins running ops. Even Trent’s got a place. Sure he’s a doctor, but soon he’ll be the company doctor, in charge of the health and well-being of a thousand employees. Mark my words. We’ll turn him to the dark side, it’s just a matter of time.
But again, we keep our wealth mostly quiet. It’s all about the downlow for us. Our parents stayed right here, in this middle-class neighborhood, in a small house that felt like it might burst when there were nine people living in it. But now they wear the best clothes and belong to the best clubs. They don’t worry about retirement or medical bills, we’ve got them covered.
And right now, all seven of us live on our own but that will change, too, once we find the right woman. We’ll build a big house for the entire family. It’s part of the master plan.
That’s why we need one mother to one child. We need a woman who can handle us all. She needs to raise a single heir, keep our bellies full, and make sure our house is a home, warm and clean, a place where we can get away from the pressure of the outside world.
And trust me, we’ve spent a long time looking for the right woman. When you’ve got resources up the wazoo, it makes sense to hire people, so we did. An international matchmaking outfit interviewed women from all over the world, from high-flying female CEOs to the local waitress, in the hopes of finding the right woman.
But no one’s come close so far.
There was a nurse named Amanda who was good. Good, not great. She was brunette and blue-eyed with nice, wide hips. She took both mine and Ford’s cocks at once, screaming her head off lustily. Damn, she was flexible and sopping wet all the time. But when I mentioned we had more brothers, she got weirded out, told me I was a freak. Red line right through her name, thanks very much.
There was another woman who took five of us at once, and shit, but it was fucking fantastic. The blonde was a little skinny, but we figured we could fatten her up, she just needed more food. Until we saw the track marks on her arms. Yeah, she’d been canny, wearing big bracelets and a chunky watch, but we saw those pinpoints and realized the real reason why she was so skinny. Drugs. Hard core meth addict. Immediate red line again.
Another contender was Harvard-educated. Erica was her name and she liked kinky sex. Toys and whips and chains were her thing, and the woman told the twins she was totally open to a gangbang with all seven brothers. All was looking well. But then she said she had to go back to Utah for an arranged marriage to her church elder. Fuck! So that’s why she was open to big love. Erica had been raised in the lifestyle, embracing the idea of multiples. But we weren’t her future, her family back home already had it all planned. Another disappointment.
So yeah, we’ve come up empty despite trying. I suppose we’re a bunch of freaks, my brothers and me. We’ve fucked a lot of women, tried out a lot of pussy looking for the one.
But we’re not giving up. She’s gotta be out there. After working like dogs to build this fortune, we’re not gonna see it squandered, divided a hundred ways between a hundred grandkids.