Chapter 1

I’m Wallace, or Wally Thompson. The sale of my tech startup was completed a week ago. I had put half a billion into investments and another fifty million in my bank accounts. On a boyish whim, I had an armored truck deliver five million in hundred-dollar bills. I filled my bathtub and bathed in money, as the security guards waited outside to bring it back to the bank. They had also brought the million-dollar diamond ring I planned to give my girlfriend when I met her daughters and proposed that night.

She was five years younger than I was, at 34. She’d gotten started very young, and both her daughters were in college. Her friends and work colleagues used her nickname ‘Ori’. I preferred saying her full name, Aurielle. To me it sounded sweet and exotic. It was based on the Latin word for gold, aurum, and I thought it suited her perfectly. She had blue eyes and a nice face and body. Her curly golden hair flowed down to the middle of her back. I’d met some more attractive women in person, but only three or four. She usually wore black and a pastel color, pink, beige, green, light blue. The black contrasted with her pale skin and her hair brilliantly.

She was smart and had a good sense of humor. I also liked her morals and fashion sense. On each of our dates, she had either been a few minutes early or exactly on time. She was working as a paralegal to put her kids through school, but couldn’t afford to go to law school herself. The art in her apartment wasn’t expensive, but quite nice. On a date at a fancy restaurant, I’d suggested an unusually expensive wine, since I was buying. She selected one which was a third the cost, but excellent.

She wouldn’t have sex on the first or second date, but I got a great deep-throat blowjob on the third one. She had said, “I’m not ready to be serious with you, but I know men have needs.” We hadn’t gone all the way yet, but we’d done oral twice a week for the last month. She only had two small tattoos, a small heart under her navel and a butterfly beneath it. She had told me, “It’s my love butterfly. Doesn’t my pussy look like a butterfly’s wings? Once I’m sure you love me, I’ll spread my wings for your cum cannon too.” I thought that sounded sleazy, romantic, and hot; all at the same time.

I said the obvious before I licked and sucked her to orgasm. “I love your pretty butterfly.”

As we laid on her sofa nude one evening I played with her breasts, enjoying their nice texture. They were small but almost perfectly round. She said, “I’m sorry they’re so little.”

“I like them a lot. They’re nice.”

She mused, “I wish I could afford to make them five times as ... nice.” She outlined the shape of some huge imaginary honkers with her hands, making me laugh. “You don’t need to for me, but I wouldn’t object.” She laughed and kissed me.

I didn’t like the smell of cigarettes, but watching her suck on a long black cigarette holder did nice things to my groin. She used perfume and had a breath mint after each one, so I usually didn’t smell or taste it when I kissed her. I was glad when she assured me she smoked less than half a pack a day. As I dropped her off at her place one night, she lit up a cigarette. She noticed me staring at her lips and said, “I know what you think of, when you watch me smoke. I like to smoke him too, but he got some attention last night.” She smiled and squeezed my package through my pants, then kissed the tip of my nose.

If I wasn’t in love with her yet, I knew I was in lust. A friend had told me to be careful, she might be a gold-digger just out to get my money. I took his advice when he said I should have my lawyer draw up a prenuptial agreement to be safe.

If we divorced in the first year, she’d get ten thousand for each month we’d been together. If it were after the first year, a half million would be added for each additional year. He said it was standard for his wealthiest clients, and it seemed fair to me. If it lasted more than a year, I’d let her keep the ring too.

After a very nice dinner, I brought her to my penthouse apartment and proposed in a business-like way. “You and I have both been married and divorced before. I’d like to marry you, but I want to be rational about it. My lawyer has drawn up a draft of a prenup agreement. It’s just a draft. I can have him change it before we sign. Please take a look.”

She seemed calm and professional as she gave her opinion. “I don’t like the adultery section. You’re a very wealthy man, and I don’t expect you to be totally faithful. I might want to play with somebody else once in a great while too.” She looked in my eyes, and her naughty smile matched mine.

“I don’t like the monetary amounts either. If we’re together ten years and divorce, I would only get about five million, plus the ring. That’s only one percent of what you’re worth. I don’t think ten years is worth half, but definitely more than one percent.”

Money and contracts weren’t my number one priority at the moment. “We can talk about the money later. You wouldn’t expect me to be faithful? You’d let me be with other women too?”

“Actually, I insist on it. Boredom kills marriages, just like abuse or drugs. Would you honestly be happy with only one woman, every single night, for twenty or thirty years? Any one woman, no matter how great?”

“I see your point.”

“My daughters need some things too. I’d expect you to pay for their educations and let them stay with us, and I want to go to law school too.”

I answered, “Not a problem. My penthouse has six bedrooms, and I could probably buy a law school.”

She giggled. “I have a few more things to discuss with the three of you together, but the girls won’t be here for an hour. Strip and lay down, so we can enjoy some of my favorite number.”

I knew she meant ‘69’, but playfully asked, “7-11? You want nachos and pizza?”

She licked her light purple lip gloss and smiled. “They have wieners too.”

We had just finished a shower and put bath robes on when Aurielle’s daughters Reena and Clarissa arrived. Our wonderful double-oral session had lasted longer than expected, and a mishap caused by her powerful orgasm led to the escape of multiple bodily fluids. I had her tasty vaginal secretions smeared on me from my eyebrows all the way down to my neck, and most of my spunk ended up in her hair. It had been messy, but worth it.

She opened the door and introduced me to two beauties who looked like young duplicates of herself, other than their hair. Reena’s blonde mane descended down her back in a long ponytail, nearly touching her waist. Clarissa’s was dyed red and only reached her shoulders.

“Wallace, meet my older daughter, Clarissa. She’s almost done with her second year of college. She wants to go to business school.”

I shook her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

She was blushing. “You too. Mom didn’t mention you were so handsome, or so tall.”

Aurielle touched the tip of Clarissa’s nose and joked. “Stop flirting with your potential step-daddy. That’s MY job.” She squeezed my package lightly through the bath robe to prove her point.

Her other daughter smiled and quietly said, “Oooh!” as she saw the size of what Aurielle had grasped. The shape of her blouse suggested she had breasts twice the size of her mother’s.

“Wallace, this is my younger daughter, Reena. She started college last semester and wants to be a psychologist.”

As I shook her hand she said, “Cognitive archaeologist. The behaviors and mindset of ancient cultures fascinate me, like how in ancient Egypt, virgins were...”

Her mother interrupted, “Boring and long-winded, like this one?”

She was very embarrassed, as her mother and older sister laughed.

Reena tried defending herself, “No, I had a boyfriend, and ... but Mom, that’s none of his business!”

Aurielle replied, “You’re right. It shouldn’t matter to Wallace, who or what’s been inside you. Was it that boy Jared, that lives upstairs? Does he have a big one?”