Sex Lives of the Super Wealthy

Introduction: A young girl's journey into the debauchery of very wealthy and powerful men's private lives.

Sincere thanks to editor Grania2 for support and guidance.

*****

I first met Ryan during our junior year in college. We had been introduced by mutual friends. Ryan was a nice looking guy, very well mannered. I could tell right away he had some class. Most guys I had dated up till then were rather immature. Of course they were just interested in one thing. Ryan was different, he was driven. He had goals. He was a business major and really into making good grades and making the right connections.

My name is Brooke. I was a fashion design student. Someday I planned to own my own couture firm. I've always loved clothing, and I am fascinated by the different styles. I am tall, five-ten and wear my auburn hair long. I think it looks more professional that way. I've been told I should really be a model, but that career is too short lived. Building my own company, influencing the styles and producing them are where the long-term successes are.

Ryan and I hit it off right from the start. He was the perfect gentleman, and we dated regularly for several months. I was from the mid-west. His east coast accent and culture were exactly why I had come to this area.

Ryan never mentioned much about his parents. I knew they were only a couple of hours drive away. Mine were still back in the mid-west where they would always stay.

Several months after we met, we became intimate. Ryan would occasionally confide only bits of information about his upbringing. We had been seeing each other almost every other day. I loved to sit and just talk. We shared our daily struggles, and our future dreams.

I knew Ryan was an only child. I thought it was sort of cute how he would refer to his parents. He always used Mom and Father, never a reference to his dad's first name, pop, dad or anything else warm. Eventually I got out of him that Father's name was Simon.

We had been together almost a year when my parents came to visit. They had come up east and spent a weekend visiting. They both approved of Ryan. My dad was impressed with his drive to one day run his own business. Mom thought him handsome, and a good match for me.

Shortly afterwards, I began pestering Ryan about meeting his parents. He seemed to keep avoiding the issue to the point that I began to think something was wrong. We were serious about each other I thought, and I really wanted to get to meet the people who could potentially be a part of my future. Almost a month had passed before Ryan finally agreed to drive up to see them. They lived about two hours north of New York City. The weekend weather was supposed to be beautiful.

Ryan is a very cautious driver and it seemed like it took an eternity to get there. We drove through some of the most gorgeous countryside. Soon we were in a very exclusive area. The driveways all had gated entrances, and most houses sat back some distance from the road.

We had just passed a cluster of stately looking mansions when Ryan started slowing down. On the right was a turn off, he turned in coming to a stop in front of a huge wrought-iron gate. Massive stone work at least eight-foot high adorned the edges. The stone wall trailed off into the woods along each side. Ryan honked twice, and almost instantly the gate jolted to life and began opening. I was watching for a first glimpse of the house but saw nothing. We started down a paved drive that wound though what looked like a golf course. The grass was manicured and the vegetation lush. We must have driven at least mile before we crested a hill.

The view ahead stunned me. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I remember a chill went through me and goose-bumps popped up on my arms. My eyes locked on a structure maybe a half mile ahead at the crest of the next hill. It wasn't just a house or a mansion it was a more liked a damned English castle.

"Stop the car Ryan!" I pleaded.

"What's wrong?" Ryan asked, slowing the car to a crawl.

"Wait please stop!" I repeated.

I must have stared at that view for a minute. Ryan finally touched my arm and asked if I was ok.

"Ryan, you said they were well-off, but you never said anything about this."

This was beyond my wildest imagination.

"Ryan, are you telling me this is your home?" I asked, staring at him.

Ryan rather sheepishly admitted "Yes."

He was acting almost embarrassed by the grandiose display in front of us.

The car started moving again. I remember thinking over and over the phrase, "The one percent." This was the super wealthy, the "one percent" that everyone talks bad about at parties.

I was petrified, and I wanted to just turn around and go back.

Ryan blew this off and said, "You'll do just fine."

As the car approached a stone courtyard out in front, an "honest to god" butler appeared at the front door. He welcomed us both, and then escorted us through the most awesome foyer toward an adjoining room. Ryan's parents were there awaiting our arrival. His mother put down a book and stood as we entered. She warmly received a hug from him. I walked over nervously and received the same.

To this day, I can vividly recall my first impression of Simon. Ryan's father was standing right in the column of a brilliant beam of sunlight pouring through a series of two story glass windows. The stiff and proper posture he held, reminded me of some ancient nobleman receiving visitors. Simon extended his hand politely, and greeted Ryan like a guest instead of his son.

Simon was wearing an impeccably tailored Armonti suit which probably cost at least ten to twenty-thousand dollars. His "Forzier" Italian leather shoes were spot-on the latest style. His watch of course, was "Cartier." All told, he was probably wearing one hundred thousand dollars in fashion, and yes he was probably the most distinguished man I had ever laid eyes on.

He was maybe fifty, with just a touch of grey hair at the temples.

I felt like he was sizing me up. Was I pretty enough? Was I refined enough? Was I in love with his son because of all of "this?" I was a total nervous wreck.

Simon shattered all my expectations by walking right up to me. His steel blue eyes locked on me and disarmed all of my defenses. He gave me the warmest embrace. His arms enveloped me like a warm blanket. I felt like a small child in their favorite place.

Within two years Ryan and I were wed. Our wedding was the envy of all our friends. "Father" spared no expense. His son's wedding was not to be outdone. We had a full orchestra and caterer's jumping to everyone's slightest whim.

Our honeymoon in San Tropez was the stuff of dreams.

It was maybe a year into our marriage when passions began to cool. The things I found so important in Ryan at first now seemed to be our biggest issues. His work occupied all his waking time. He was so driven to have his business succeed that he would come home exhausted. Our love life suffered also. What used to be romantic was now just a routine. He'd jump on me missionary style every time, ride me, and grunt a little, roll off, and be snoring within a couple minutes. Hell, I was still in my twenties, I wanted more than that.

I was working out of our home mostly refining my own designs. I seemed to run into closed doors or dismissive attitudes at each of my interviews. I was frustrated both professionally and sexually.

It was on one of our visits to his parents, when I first began to seriously look at Simon. He was the absolute alpha-male. His manners, his poise, his style, this man was both able to amass great wealth, and yet spend extravagantly on his desires.

Ryan's mother seemed to have few interests other than reading her books. I'm sure she had her social circle, but otherwise had grown somewhat pudgy for lack of any real purpose. She was always warm and friendly, but also seemed generally disinterested in things. Maybe she had been born into all of this, and just took it all for granted.

Ryan and I got invited to go on trip with them to Italy. I hadn't ever planned on anything like this. Ryan and I were still struggling to get our careers going, and Ryan always poured all our resources and all of his energy into his business. Ryan had flatly refused any help from Father. He preferred instead to make it a success on his own. I finally convinced Ryan that we needed a break from work, and would do well to get away for a while.

I was like a little kid on a Disney trip. We were flown by helicopter to meet up with the yacht already at sea. Yes of course, they had a helicopter. For some reason, they always referred to it as the MD for short. It was always parked in a little clearing just behind the main house. That is how Simon got to and from his offices. Simon didn't actually fly it although, I'll bet he could have. There was a man who was always around, Mr. Keeven. Along with being the pilot, I think he was sort of a bodyguard or personal aid. He was a buff ex-military looking type. He was always around when Simon went somewhere.

We caught up with the yacht in the Atlantic, somewhere off the coast of Rhode Island. Landing on a yacht, talk about a thrill. Talk about an entrance. The yacht was magnificent. It had to be at least a hundred feet long. Ryan never said it belonged directly to them. Things were always referred to as belonging to the firm. They just had exclusive access whenever they wished. It was complete luxury. Everything was constantly attended to by the staff. Meals, drinks anything you could wish for. Attention to detail was incredible right down to the fresh flowers placed in our stateroom each day.

Mr. Keeven and the helicopter stayed on board, and made the trip with us. How cool was that?

There were two other couples already on board who would be making the trip with us. One was a close friend of Ryan's mom and her husband. The other couple included a younger girl nearer to my age. Her name was Nicole. We hit it off right away. She like I, 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 of our future aspirations and goals. That was kind of silly seeing that we were lying on a yacht headed for Italy, "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 even 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 available. We spent a wonderful day in Marbella and were soon in route 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 being somewhat smaller. We were greeted like royalty in a very dignified way. There was a sense of wealth about the place but it was understated. Everyone there was wealthy, but 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 to New York.

After Ryan left for home, 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, and the gesture did not go unappreciated by me. There were other bodyguards waiting on shore and a driver, 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 ok. He simply gestured with a hand that all our wishes were taken care of.

Sometime during the day I found I didn't miss Ryan at all. Nicole and I were like 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 about my father in law.

Simon was the consummate gentleman. Super wealthy, yet 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 every favor, and 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 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, and yet still having the time of my life. I kissed Simon on the cheek and held onto 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 was putting the finishing touch to 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 and 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 kindly excused himself by making a joke about "Spoiling the beautiful ornaments on his deck."

Nicole and I had many conversations out 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 dry, someone would be out to refill our glasses.

During one such time Nicole and I got a lot 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 became just more of the same. With all of his energy poured into the business I was becoming more and more frustrated.

It was during a weekend trip up to the family's estate, where 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 little girl back on Grandpa's farm. Their property boasted some of the most beautiful scenery. We had been out maybe an hour. I needed a break to stretch my legs, so we stopped alongside a clearing

The saddles Ryan's family used were those English style ones without the horn for grabbing onto for mounting and dismount. Simon being the perfect gentleman dismounted 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 my 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 ridged pose and the horse's shifting flank. I found myself pressed squarely against Simon and our faces 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 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-up 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.

I locked my arms around his neck and 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 so real, that we gave no thought as to 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 passion seemed stronger than the time before. It was easy for him to get away to New York City. He always was being called somewhere to deal with some business issue. An overnight in town was a common thing for him anyway. I had to wait until Ryan was occupied with his concerns, and then I'd make some excuse about a fashion design appointment in the city.

Simon was not a simple man. Neither was he cheap. One of the first times we spent the night together was at the penthouse of one of the taller hotels. This room must have cost thousands per night. We ate out at the finest place in town and eventually wound up making passionate love in one of the grandest rooms available. This room was somewhere above the eightieth floor.

We were completely naked and rolling around on a luxurious Persian rug. We were right in front of a floor to ceiling window. The lights were dimmed making the night time city view spectacular. Suddenly he urged me to stand up. We locked in a passionate kiss and Simon started pushing me closer to the window. I stiffened reflexively as my back touched the cool glass. He then turned me around and pushed me face-first against the glass.