There were already two other couples on board who would be making the trip with us. One couple was a close friend of Ryan’s mother and her husband. The other couple included a younger girl, nearer my age. Her name was Nicole. We hit it off right away. She, like me, seemed awestruck at all the trappings of wealth. She was with a somewhat older guy, whom she just referred to as “just a friend.”
Nicole and I would lay out for hours on the deck laughing and sharing stories, mostly of the “if our friends could only see us now” type. She and I would talk about our future aspirations and goals. That was kind of silly, seeing that we were lying on a yacht headed for Italy, so “Like, how do you really top this?”
During the trip over, I was constantly dragging Ryan away from his phone. I was becoming seriously agitated at his inability to leave work behind. He took calls constantly and had reports faxed to him. I was becoming livid.
We had just left the Azores Islands, and our next stop would be in Marbella, Spain, to refuel. I hoped the distance would force Ryan to forget about work. But the yacht had the latest in technology, unfortunately, and satellite transmissions were easily available. We spent a wonderful day in Marbella and were soon on our way to our final destination of Anzio, along the west coast of Italy.
When we arrived, I thought it was simply the most beautiful place on earth. We anchored in a harbor surrounded by similar yachts, most of them somewhat smaller. We were greeted as though we belonged. There was a sense of wealth about the place, but it was understated. Everyone there was super-wealthy but dignified and reserved in how it was displayed.
We were only there two days when Ryan got an urgent message that he was needed back in New York. I was ready to explode. We were to travel up to Rome for the day, and instead, he was making arrangements for a flight back home.
After Ryan left for the United States, Nicole tried to cheer me up by arranging a shopping trip up to Rome anyway. I was shocked as we boarded a tender to ferry us to shore. Mr. Keeven was accompanying us. He never left Simon’s side. I knew how important he was to Simon. I knew this had to be on Simon’s order. This gesture did not go unappreciated by me. There were other bodyguards and a driver waiting on shore, but that was just the way Simon was.
I was still mad as hell at Ryan as we made our way to Rome, but soon Nicole’s giddiness and all the attention got me out of my funk. We ate lunch within sight of the Coliseum. We shopped like celebrities, and with a wave of Mr. Keeven’s hand, all was taken care of. Dresses, new swimsuits, fine shoes-you name it, we bought it. I continually looked to Mr. Keeven to try to get a sign that this was all okay. He simply gestured with a hand that all our wishes were to be taken care of.
Sometime during the day, I found that I didn’t miss Ryan at all. Nicole and I were like two schoolgirls on spring break. We shopped, toured, and just plain had fun until our feet hurt. On the way back to Anzio by car, we traveled through the rolling Italian countryside. I stared out the window, taking it all in. I couldn’t shake the feelings I was starting to have for my father-in-law.
Simon was the consummate gentleman, super wealthy and driven, and yet he would lavish favors on everyone around him. He was a man who knew how to enjoy his wealth. He had learned the fine art of delegation. Nothing happened that he didn’t direct, but he allowed others to handle all the details. Ryan was driven to succeed too, but he always had to do everything himself. Where Ryan worried about everything, Simon focused on his guests and enjoying life.
Watching my father-in-law over time, I was always impressed at how he thanked everyone for everything, from the staff member who topped off his morning coffee to a doorman who held a door open for him. He noticed everything, looked the person in the eye, and graciously acknowledged them. When he spoke with someone, you had his full attention. No cell phone interruptions, no distractions-he looked you right in the eyes, and for that moment, you felt like you were the most important person on earth.
When Nicole and I returned to the yacht, I sought out Simon and gave him the biggest hug. I was kind of emotional and almost lost it. I was disappointed in Ryan, yet I was still having the time of my life. I kissed Simon on the cheek and held on to him longer than I should have.
When we left Anzio and began the return trip, Nicole and I resumed our spots on the bow. The warm Mediterranean breezes cooled us as the sun put the finishing touch on our tans. Of course, we had to try out our new suits.
One morning, while Nicole and I were up there, Simon came over to us. He was, as usual, very gracious and wanted to be assured of our complete comfort. We were both wearing our new, very revealing bikinis.
The warm sun bouncing off the deck was glorious, and we both pleaded with him to join us. A smile came across his face. He laughed and graciously excused himself by making a joke about “spoiling the beautiful ornaments on his deck.”
Nicole and I had many conversations there. More than a couple times, we were more than a little drunk. The staff seemed to keep tabs on us, and as soon as we would start to run out, someone would be out to refill our glasses.
During one such time, Nicole and I got very personal. I was probably bashing Ryan for being such a workaholic when the topic of Simon came up. I know I said a lot more than I should have. I do remember saying something like, “I thought him sexy, and father-in-law or not, I’d “fuck” him anytime, anywhere.”
We both laughed and continued on with our bawdy confessions. I don’t remember it all, but I hoped it would never get repeated. Returning home to Ryan was just more of the same. With all of his energy poured into his business, I was becoming more and more frustrated.
It was during a weekend trip up to the family’s estate that things got really serious. Simon and I had gone for a horseback ride on the grounds. Of course, he was an excellent horseman. He stayed right alongside me the whole way. The horses were magnificent. I hadn’t been riding since I was a little girl back on Grandpa’s farm. Simon’s property boasted some of the most beautiful scenery. We had been out maybe an hour, and I needed a break to stretch my legs, so we stopped alongside a small stream.
The saddles Ryan’s family used were those English-style ones, without the horn for grabbing onto for mounting and dismounting. Simon, being the perfect gentleman, dismounted first and secured his horse. He approached and held his hands outstretched to assist my dismount.
It had been a long time since I had been on a horse, and I wasn’t even thinking. For some stupid reason, I tried to dismount facing away from the animal. I raised my right leg over his mane and then incorrectly pushed on the horse’s rump, spooking him. This caused the startled animal to shuffle to his left. I began a clumsy slide down the horse’s flank, sending me squarely into a collision with Simon. I awkwardly grabbed for his shoulders. Simon, being the type not to back away from anyone or anything, stood his ground. I slid downward, pinned against his rigid pose and the horse’s shifting flank. I found myself pressed squarely against Simon; our faces were only inches apart. I could feel his manhood pressed squarely against me, but he made no effort to hide this fact or back away.
I got to thinking about the motion of a woman riding a horse. I guess it is just about the same as a woman riding a man during sex. I guessed that Simon had been keeping a closer eye on me than I thought. So there we were, pressed up against each other. Everything just seemed to conspire to fling us together-his blue eyes, his arms, his cock. My pussy had been warmed by being repeatedly slapped against the saddle for the last hour. And of course, I must admit, I had been lusting for this man for quite a while.
With my arms still locked around his neck, I pressed my lips against his. We stood frozen in a passionate embrace. When I realized what I was doing, I pulled away. He immediately returned my kiss, and we embraced once again. The next time our lips parted, I pleaded with him to fuck me right then, right there.
I couldn’t believe those words just came out of my mouth, but they did, and I would not take them back. He backed me up against a tree, and we made passionate love standing up. I loosened my blouse and bared my breasts. He tore at my belt and jeans like a man possessed. His cock felt so good, so right, and our passions were so strong that we didn’t think twice about what we were doing. I orgasmed repeatedly. He practically lifted me off the ground with each thrust. It seemed so raw, so necessary, to screw like this. Our pent-up desire drove both of us on without reason. When he finally blew his orgasm into me, I felt like all the power and purpose this man controlled was being pumped into me.
So, that is how our affair started. We began to meet pretty regularly after that, and each time our passions seemed stronger than the time before. It was easy for him to get away to New York City. He was always being called somewhere to deal with some business issue. An overnight stay in town was a common thing for him. I had to wait until Ryan was occupied with his concerns, and then I’d make up some excuse about a fashion design appointment in the city.
Simon was not a simple man, nor was he cheap. One of the first times we spent the night together was in the penthouse of one of the taller hotels. This room must have cost thousands per night. We dined at one of the finest places in town and wound up making passionate love in one of the grandest rooms available. This room was somewhere above the eightieth floor.
We were completely naked, rolling around on a luxurious Persian rug in full view of a floor-to-ceiling window. The lights were dimmed, making the nighttime city view spectacular. Suddenly, he urged me to stand up. We locked in a passionate kiss. Then Simon started pushing me backward, closer to the window. I stiffened reflexively as my back touched the cool glass. He turned me around and pushed me face-first against the glass.
Now, I’m not afraid of heights necessarily, but being held naked right up to a clear panel of glass eight hundred feet above the ground will certainly perk up any girl’s nipples. Every nerve in my body came alive. I was scared, breathless, and extremely turned on.
Simon entered me gently from behind and started stroking. His cock remained rock-hard as his thrusts increased. His hips began bumping against my ass, and as his intensity increased, I started to feel the glass panel begin to flex. My stomach began to turn, and my head started spinning, probably from lack of oxygen. My short breaths weren’t enough to sustain me. My fear of the glass panel breaking intensified with each thrust. Simon lifted my arms above my head and pressed my palms out flat on the bouncing glass.
I could see the newspaper headlines the next morning, describing how two randy lovers plunged to their deaths while still connected. Yeah, but they would die with a smile on their faces, I thought to myself. I had to simply trust that Simon knew just how much this widow would take, or maybe he didn’t care either.
My orgasms started one after another, until I thought I might faint. Steam from my labored breaths had coated the glass near my head. My face was being mashed flat as Simon’s own orgasm rocked me violently in waves.
Finally, we dropped to the floor, completely spent. My heart pounded in my chest for several minutes afterward. We both smiled as we looked up and noticed the outline of my figure remained “etched” onto the glass in smears and moisture.
Simon was an incredible lover. When we were apart, I was like a drug addict waiting for my next “fix.” Each new sexual encounter exceeded the previous one. How had this man’s genes not passed anything on to his son?
Men such as Simon were powerful and driven individuals. They controlled their environment and everyone around them. Their private passions were just as intense. I felt like he was awakening desires that I never knew were inside of me.
During one of our subsequent evenings together, we noticed that our room also afforded us a panoramic view of the nearby buildings. With our room lights dimmed, we were able to see into many of the rooms facing our direction. One had caught my attention. It was a loft-style apartment with large uncovered windows and a sparsely furnished interior, save for a bed that was clearly visible. As we were sipping a glass of wine, a couple entered the room and, to our delight, began a torrid session of lovemaking. They quickly undressed. The guy pulled the woman to his groin, and she proceeded to give him a vigorous blow-job. This turned me on to no end. Simon seemed delighted also, and that night, our new “hobby” was born. Who knew we were voyeurs? There were a couple of more times when we spied on people, but our luck was “iffy.” Mostly, people just sit and watch their TVs.
At our next time together, Simon hinted that he had a little surprise in store, but I would have to wait through a wonderful dinner till we were alone at the hotel. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as we returned to our room. Simon had opened a bottle of Chardonnay and dimmed the lights. I casually stood near the window, scoping out any likely prospects. Suddenly, a soft knock at the door startled me. No one ever knocked before. These rooms were above the normal elevators and reserved for only the VIP clientele. I moved away from the window and then backed into a darkened corner. We had not requested anything, so I was sort of shocked to see Simon starting for the door. After a quick check of the peephole, he began to unlock the door. I didn’t have time to say anything and was starting to panic, looking for something to hide behind.
Before I could move, the door opened and a young woman sort of stumbled into the room. I immediately noticed her eyes were covered with black tape. Before I could even react, a young man also followed her in. His eyes were covered in the same fashion. I caught a glimpse of Mr. Keeven just behind them. He must have guided them to the door. He only escorted them inside and left, pulling the door closed behind him. Simon locked the door, gently caught the young girl by the lower arm, and began to lead her. The young man had placed his hand on the girl’s shoulder and followed just a step behind her.
Simon led the pair to a spot just before the window. He was holding one finger to his lips, signaling to me that I should remain silent. The couple stopped, and Simon stepped back into the shadows near me. I was staring at him, and I know I had a “what the fuck” look on my face.
Simon, in a very calm and subdued voice, asked the couple if they understood why they were here. They both nodded their heads in unison. Simon informed them that the area within ten feet around them was a clear area. He instructed them not to leave the area of the rug without his permission. They nodded again to show their understanding of his instructions.
Simon informed them that the room was empty except for him and one other person. They remained standing, with the guy still touching the shoulder of the girl. Simon instructed them to listen and follow his directions. Again, they nodded. He then asked them to be seated on the floor, which they both did.
I still wasn’t sure exactly what Simon was up to, but before I could say anything, he asked if they would please begin to disrobe. Without any hesitation, the girl began to unbutton her shirt. The guy, seated right beside her, also followed, and the pair began to pile their clothes in a stack just within reach. Neither made any attempt to touch their eye coverings.
The girl was probably a little older than I was. She was very pretty. The guy was a real “hunk” himself. As I watched him struggling out of his jeans, I was beginning to catch the drift of what Simon was presenting to me.
The young man wasn’t shy either, and as his boxers slid past his groin, I quietly gasped. The guy was an absolute monster. His cock was maybe as thick as my wrist, and he was still flaccid. The girl had her bra off and was fumbling with the catch on her pants. She tried to stand at first, but decided to remain seated on the floor and just wiggled out of them. She rolled to her side and removed a sexy red G-string.
I sensed her nervousness as she sat with her knees drawn up to her chest. Simon, always the gentleman, reassured her, and she seemed a little more at ease. The guy reached out to locate the girl, and having found her, he now kept his hand on her bare thigh.
Simon whispered to me, “How would you like to start the evening with our puppets, dearest?”
I was still sort of speechless and couldn’t put together a phrase. Simon, seeing my hesitation, took the lead and asked them to begin to kiss. The pair sought out each other’s mouths by feel and began an intimate exchange of soft kisses. This was followed by some gentle touching. I was finally catching on to this.
Obviously, Simon had hired them to do anything we would ask. Simon asked if either of them would like some wine. Only, the girl nodded yes. The kissing was interrupted as the girl took several sips from a glass Simon had given her. Satisfied, she held her glass out, and Simon retrieved it.
At that point, I wanted in on this. I whispered to Simon to have the young man stand and stroke his cock. Simon relayed my request, and the guy stood and began manually stroking himself. The girl asked if she could have another bit of wine. Simon handed the girl the glass again. She seemed content and reassured enough to finish the entire glass.