Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 85

Introduction:

"Marcus interviews for a bodyguard."

Friday 8:43 am

A departure from the usual, it was the smells that woke me up this time. Savory bacon mixed with the sweet, earthy scent of maple syrup and the strong aroma of coffee was a more pleasant way to wake up than having your phone scream at you.

"What the hell smells so good?" I mumbled, blinking the sleep out of my eyes as I looked around the room. Light spilled in from behind me, rays bouncing off the hardwood floors and carpets to provide dim illumination in which to see my surroundings. I was lying naked in the largest bed I'd ever slept in, surrounded by an accumulation of furniture and luxury items that totaled more than I could have earned in a year a week ago. I laid my head against the pillow and stared at the ceiling, sorting through the memories of what happened to me after I left Emily.

Erin happened to me. She spent the next two hours draining every drop of pent-up energy Ashlee had cultivated in me with her little stunt. She gave me another lapdance, stripping completely naked now that her body was no longer a mystery to me. Then, once sufficiently teased to the point that was about to go mad with lust, she gave me a brief blowjob, made sure it was sufficiently coated in saliva, climbed back in my lap, and gave me an agonizingly slow handjob while I kissed all over her bronzed skin. I became very familiar with her firm breasts, and I think I could have sketched her arm tattoo by memory at this point.

She seemed to have an issue with Ashlee pursuing me, but that hadn't stopped her from insisting that look at the photos the paralegal left on my phone.

She looked along with me, stroking my shaft and whispering all manner of dirty things like what I should do to the younger woman; Erin had the imagination of a degenerate.

Even wilder, after I'd gotten off in her hand, she had me eat her out while she looked through the pictures, describing in vivid detail all the heinous things she would love to do to Ashlee. She confessed a long-time attraction to the younger woman and came hard on my face as she alternated between my name and hers. When I climbed over her intending to bury my cock in her pussy, which was the only place my cock hadn't been, she asked me to let her blow me instead. Apparently, she had something special in mind for our first actual fuck. She hadn't steered me wrong yet, so I complied.

Still lying in bed I looked over and saw an Erin-shaped impression in the sheets, but she was nowhere to be found. I sat up, trying my best to grapple with the fact that I was once again conscious, and spotted a dark blue silk robe lying on the bed. Slipping it on along with some underwear, I made my way downstairs and headed toward the sound of voices and laughter.

I found Emily and Erin sitting at a corner of the large kitchen island talking to each other, laughing at something. However, they weren't alone; Vikram was standing halfway down the kitchen island sipping on a cup of coffee and thumbing through some papers with an amused smile at something Erin said that hadn't caught. He was impeccably dressed as always, in a sharp suit and tie, a haircut that probably cost a hundred dollars or more, and a well- groomed beard that came dangerously close to looking like he'd just skipped shaving for a few days. He had the typical look of a man about to stride into a board meeting.

The same was true of Erin, who looked like a million bucks in a lovely, black-and-white skirt and jacket combo. She wore large gold earrings and a gold necklace that complemented her skin beautifully. Seeing her there looking elegant as she carefully pressed her dark-stained lips to the rim of her coffee made the memory of last night especially arousing. Contrast was a beautiful thing; food tasted better when you were hungry, a warm fire was more welcome when you were chilled to the bone, and the memory of your assistant as an insatiable hellcat was so much more arousing when you saw her as a flawless professional the next day.

On the other hand, Emily matched my unkempt demeanor, wearing a bathrobe similar to mine with damp hair from what I assumed was a shower. However, the natural look didn't detract much. She never wore much make-up.. just a bit of blush and eyeliner to emphasize her Nordic looks and stunning pale grey eyes, so seeing her fresh-faced wasn't much different from the norm.

There was one other person in the room. A man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties wore all white and stood in front of the massive stove set into the marble countertop of the kitchen. He was slicing through a slab of meat, creating long strands of what looked like fresh, thick bacon, and slapping them on the large griddle-like surface next to large, fluffy pancakes frying next to them.

Emily spotted me in the middle of a sip of coffee. "Oh, Marcus! Hey!"