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The Love Of Money - Episode 95
27-07-25 (17:21)
Introduction:
Marcus introduces himself to the world stage.
Monday, 8:29 am
I felt small, gentle hands run up and down my bare
chest as consciousness started to seep into my mind.
Eyes still closed, I simply stretched and enjoyed the soft
caresses, wanting to prolong this lovely moment
between the waking world and dreams where' every
touch felt magnified ten-fold. The fingers making small
circles on my chest were accompanied by the feeling of
soft lips enveloping mine in a sweet kiss. The tip of a
tongue flicked at my top lip, and I tasted a faint hint of
mint.
I sighed as kissed back, careful to keep my mouth
closed so I didn't assault the angel waking me up so
lovingly with notorious morning breath. I felt the lips
kissing me curl into a smile and returned it with one of
my own as I tried my hardest to open my eyes for the
first time. They met Erin's, her dark pools staring back
at me with a gratified twinkle in them. Her smug self-
assuredness would have started rubbing me the wrong
way by now if it weren't
for the fact that she was one of the best things that
ever happened
to me.
After a pregnant moment, Erin broke the kiss and
followed it up with a peck on the nose. "Wake up,
sleepyhead."
"What time is it?" I asked. My throat sounded coarse
from lack of use.
"Eight-thirty," she said, running her fingernails through
my hair. Then she sat up straight and slid her hand to
my chest.
I tried to sit up, but the pressure from her hand on my
chest kept me on my back. "Eight-thirty?" I asked, "I
thought you were going to wake me up at six-thirty!"
Friday afternoon, Erin received a call from Channel
Seven requesting an interview with me on Monday
morning at ten. She convinced me to go through with it,
that it would be better for me to engage with the
public to control the narrative as much as possible. She
was right. I know I'd only been a billionaire for a little
over a week, but it was time started getting used to it
and trustworthy as she originally led me to believe.
While not completely surprised, my world was rocked
by the revelation. Since coming into my money, she
had been my rock, and losing my trust in her had left
me flat-footed.
Erin and Danielle rescued me from my dark fate by
taking me to a high-class strip club for the wealthy and
famous. It cost me three thousand dollars to get the
three of us in the door. In my limited experience with
strip clubs, I thought they were sad places for lonely,
middle-aged divorced chads, but I'd been proven wrong
about this one. It was classy, colorful, and packed with
some of the most gorgeous women I had ever seen.
We ended up in a VIP suite engaged in a six-person
orgy, then continued the party back at my new
apartment.
It worked. Instead of spending my weekend brooding
about Natalie and Helen, I had my every need satisfied
by five gorgeous women, the last two days had been a
blur of alcohol, lust, and laughter. No one had a right to
have so much fun in one weekend. Considering the
abuse my cock had taken over the last two days, I
wondered if I would ever get an erection again.
However, as I watched Erin standing in front of that
window, silhouetted by the sun's morning rays, I felt
my dick stir. It looked like my libido survived after all.
"Thank you, Erin," I said a little breathlessly. "I needed
that."
She spun to face me, clasping her hands behind her
back as she did a hint of a curtsey.
"Of course, Mr. Upton. I'm at your complete disposal,"
she said, grinning ear-to-ear. As the next few moments
passed in complete silence, I felt an understanding pass
between us a quiet echo of her words before we made
love for the first time. I only hoped she could read the
tremendous gratitude I felt toward her.
I almost called her over to do something about my
growing erection, but she changed tact and pointed to
my closet as she made her way toward the door.
"Now, if you would like to get dressed and come
downstairs, I've got Joel here to make us some
breakfast while I brief you."
"Marry me," I called out as she disappeared around the
comer. Her amused laugh trailed behind her, fading as
she moved away from me.
I quickly walked into the closet and ***********ed a pair
of pants and a dress shirt, leaving my bedroom as I
was still buttoning the pants and sincing the belt. I
slipped my shirt over my shoulders as I made my way
down the stairs in the direction of feminine voices
drifting from the direction of the kitchen. Two of the
ladies had left by the end of the day yesterday, but
Danni and Natasha stayed one more night. Were they
both still here?
"Oh," I said, coming to a dead stop as I saw Chloe
Tanner sitting at the kitchen island sipping from a mug
and looking down at a newspaper. Erin stood near the
coffee pot and was pouring a fresh cup of Joel's finest.
She looked up at me with a big smile. Danni was sitting
at a table to the side and was currently peeling off part
of an orange before popping it in her mouth. Like Erin,
she was dressed in a robe, but hers was silk and more
opaque than my assistant's. One side of it had slipped
off and down her arm, exposing her bare shoulder. She
caught sight of me and gave me a full, radiant smile.
"Morning, Marcus!"
Chloe glanced up from her paper as she was taking a
sip and then set down her mug as she said, "Good
morning Mr. Upton." Her dark brown eyes traveled up
and down my bare chest, but her expression gave
nothing away. "How was your weekend?"
I closed my shirt and started fastening the buttons. "It
was good," I said.
She grunted and took another sip from her mug, which
had 'Don't talk to me till this is empty or I'll shoot you'
printed in a bold, black font across the white ceramic. I
approached the bar realizing that my bodyguard and I
had only shared one conversation. This was supposed
to be the woman who was with me at all times, and I
barely knew her name.
"Do I need to wait till you're done with that before I
talk to you?"
"What?" she asked. "Oh. The mug. No. This is my second
cup, so you're good."
"Glad I'm safe," I replied as I sat at the island bar.
Joel turned and placed a plate of sausages wrapped in
fresh pancakes like pigs in a blanket with a drizzle of
syrup across them in an artisanal fashion. The amazing
smells wafting from my plate coaxed a growl from my
stomach and made me realize how hungry I was. Erin
set a fresh cup of coffee next to the plate.
"You're going to love that" she said, pointing at the
sausages. 'Joel
makes the sausage himself." 27-07-25 (17:21)
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