Billionaire and the Sisters

A note to readers:

This is a long story that unfolds chapter by chapter through the eyes of two protagonists -- Mark and Elsa, and as in many of my other stories involves a growing spate of horny characters.

Every ten chapters or so I will provide a short summary at the start of that episode to bring new readers up to date (see start of Ch. 30).

This story could appear in a number of genres (Loving Wives, Incest, Lesbian, Fetish, and more) depending on the chapter, but the overall theme is Group, so I have applied this moniker to all chapters. The story is still being written, yet I intend to post a new chapter every couple of days. Enjoy.

Chapter 32 -- Breaking Out in Vegas

Mark

I traveled to the west coast for two nights, heading for Los Angeles area instead of San Jose where Tom was engrossed in the nanotechnology project. He was doing fine, I trusted my new friend, and there was no need to have him think I was checking up on him.

This trip I took Melanie with me for several reasons. The business reasons dealt with the fact that some of the ideas she'd come up with in Mexico had me rethinking how we'd organized and staffed the home goods manufacturing company near Orange County Airport. She'd thought of a way to triple profits from the unit without adding resources mainly through rethinking how they handled inbound and outbound logistics, including warehousing. She also had a list of other improvements she was sure would have significant bottomline impact. I wanted her to be part of launching the changes she'd conceived.

The non-business reason is that I felt I'd been neglecting my gorgeous young pixie. Yes, we'd made love a few times in Mexico, but I loved her and wanted to let her know that I valued her love and friendship, and that I knew she had a great intellect. The trip would give us some alone time in the evenings and overnight when I could express that love to her in a physical way as well as share myself with her in other dimensions.

When we got back, Elsa filled me in on her pending trip to Las Vegas with one of her business colleagues. I teased her about seducing Sean, and reminded her that she had my blessing if she decided to do something sexual with him. We both knew that our freedom to be with others was part of the expression of the love we had for each other, so she knew I wasn't trying to palm her off on somebody else.

Elsa told me that right at that moment, Sean was a little awed by her. She'd told Sean a little about our Mexico trip, and then revealed some about her urban survival and weapons training.

Elsa and Cindy both had busy weeks, but they arranged for their martial arts lessons to take place in my private gym on the lower floor of my penthouse condominium. Wan Suh, their instructor, came over and put them through their paces.

Elsa got Lucas to come and watch their first session after they returned so that he could make suggestions about their training from an urban survival point of view. He had some great recommendations about integrating parts of Krav Maga along with kickboxing into the lessons. Wan Suh liked Lucas' ideas and immediately started to include the new moves and ways of thinking into our training. Later, we learned that Lucas had hired Wan Suh to do some remedial training of the security staff at Worthington Industries, including himself.

Saturday, Cindy and Elsa went off to their weapons training for half of the day. When they returned home in the late afternoon, I noticed they were both sore and tired from having run various obstacle courses while using different kinds of weapons.

Deke had the girls starting to learn knife fighting as well as throwing. Elsa and Cindy both showed me the switchblade knives that Deke had them carrying. I thought they were redundant to some extent with the pistols, but they explained that there were special situations where one or the other approach would be favored.

I missed Brita. She'd flown back to Denmark on her private jet Tuesday evening after we had dinner. Dinner had also included an hour during which we had a passionate goodbye with no definite time for when we would see each other again. I made an offer to her that knocked her off her feet. I proposed that she move in with us and that I'd make her the head of the worldwide pharmacology and medical devices division -- a multi-billion dollar deal that was growing at better than fifty percent a year. I got that, 'I'll think about it,' look from her.

Tom had flown the other way on Tuesday morning, heading back to Silicon Valley. He'd also had a successful visit with us following our time in Mexico. He'd put together a great deal to do co-marketing with Nanotech, our laser and nanotech businesses, and the chip manufacturer his division owned half of in California.

Sheila went off on one of her hibernation weekends, assuring me that all was OK but that she just wanted some alone time to meditate and do some personal things. I praised her business efforts, and again pledged my love to her.

All that left me Saturday night to focus on Elsa, who was leaving the next afternoon for Vegas; Cindy; KC; and Melanie. It was a tough job, but someone had to do it. I was the luckiest man in the world to have my 'wives' and the love I felt from all of them. I just hoped that they all knew how I felt about each of them. I was such a transformed man from a year earlier.

Elsa

Jana and I met Sean at the gate for the commercial flight to Vegas. Mark had tried to get me to take the corporate jet, but I thought that would be a little over the top and would raise questions on the other end about just who we were and how we got there.

I did something I should have done earlier. I swore Sean to secrecy, and even had him sign one of Mark's non-disclosure agreements. I explained that he'd already heard details he wasn't supposed to know about Mark's business and private life, and we wanted to stop any further propagation of that information. Sean was compliant.

Jana sat a few seat behind us on the plane, and tried to look disconnected from us as well. I knew she'd had to dissemble her weapon and put it in checked luggage in order to transport. I assumed she'd worked out any permits somehow. I'd left my weapons at home rather than fight with TSA and the airlines about contraband in our luggage.

After we took-off Sean started to pepper me with questions based on our earlier discussion. I found out he'd also done his homework about my boyfriend, a.k.a. 'husband,' a.k.a. lover.

Sean started, "I'm trying to understand Mark Worthington. I'd love to accomplish a fraction of what he has, but the social side of his life fascinates me. You started to date him about a year ago, but with your sister?"

"Yes, we both fell for him at the same time. Since we were used to sharing, we decided to share Mark."

Sean's eyebrows rotated up his forehead, and I nodded to imply that his little fantasy was accurate. He went on, "But then I learned that after you'd moved in with him, some of his staff did too -- the woman who is his chief of staff, and his admin assistant or secretary. Is there something more than just business going on there?"

"Sean, you are very insightful. Yes, a helluva lot more than just business. Sheila and Melanie are like sisters to Cindy and me. We all share Mark."

Eyebrows up! Sean said, "Wow, one guy with four women. What a paradise."

I volunteered, "Actually, there are now six women. A pretty Danish businesswoman named Brita and a local artist named KC. They have recently become our sisters as well."

"Are you are like that TV show 'Sister Wives,' where Cody Brown has four wives and spends a different night with each one."

I laughed, "No kids, yet. We're like Sister Wives, except we all spend all our nights together -- five or six of us in one huge bed. We don't want to be separate from each other. In our case, we -- the sisters or wives if you want that term -- all love each other as well. We share ourselves not only with Mark but with our sisters."

"And that's not awkward?"

"Not a bit. Most of us didn't know we were bisexual when this all started, but it has worked to our advantage since. No, it's not awkward; it's arousing and a lot of fun."

Sean said, "So, there's Mark and the six of you."

"Unless we have friends over, and then we share in many ways with our friends."

"Friends?"

"Oh, Sean, don't be dense. We are a sexually-liberated group of people. We're horny all the time -- ALL the time. We have friends who are that way too."

"Wow. I wish I had a billion dollars. I'd do that too ... if I could get my wife to agree."

"Sean, the money has nothing to do with it. Well, I take that back, it does, but not in the way you think. None of us is focused on money, except to be frugal and equitable. Cindy and I buy most of the food for all of us out of our earnings. Melanie has insisted on paying some of the utility bills for Mark's condo. Sheila has her own money too, and KC is just learning how to fit in with the rest of us. We don't focus on money, and certainly not on Mark's wealth. If we did, I think he'd drop us faster than a hot skillet."

Sean nodded. He understood that idea. "I understand that," he said. "The more you want it, the less you get."

I nodded.

Sean volunteered, "My wife and I have a boring sex life, at least that's what she calls it. We've been trying to think of ideas to spice up our relationship. I guess you don't have that problem, huh?"

I chuckled, "Not yet, and nothing boring in sight. With us, everyday is exciting. Of course, we're not entirely sure whom we'll have sex with during the day. I've skipped over some details, but use your imagination."

"Oh, I am. I am," Sean said. After a moment of silence, he said, "Would you talk to her?"

"Her, who? Your wife? What for?"

"Yeah. Her name is Pam. You seem so ... worldly, compared to her. We're both kind of naïve, and you're so hot. I mean you're a babe ... and experienced."

"Thank you, Sean. I'll take that as a compliment. Let me think about talking to Pam. What are you personally doing to become less naïve?"

"I ... I don't know what to do."

"Yes, you do. You're just embarrassed to do some of the things or think about them or justify them to Pam. You should be pulling her along with you, too."

Sean thought a moment, "I'm so naïve, I don't have any idea what you mean."

"What are you going to do tonight, after we land and check into the hotel?"

"Watch TV and go to sleep?" He posed the response more as a question than a statement.

"Bat shit, you are! You're in Sin City. You're coming with me, and we're going to a strip club where you are going to see a lot of tits and pussy. You are going to see some of the seamier side of life. You are going to let your hair down, and even get a lap dance from one of the strippers. I'm buying."

"Errr, Pam won't approve."

"Call her up and tell her to get her sweet little ass to Vegas. Once she gets here, you take her to the strip club. Do racy things. There are male strip clubs too."

"Ughhh!"

I laughed. "Hey, what's good for the goose? Take her. Let her see what a bunch of other hot cocks look like. Get her hot and bothered. Fuck her brains out afterwards, and talk to her about how she's probably dreaming of all those cocks fucking her."

"Oh, shit, Elsa. You really have an dirty mind."

"No, I'm sex crazed. There's a difference ... I think."

After a moment I asked, "Do you watch porn?"

"Errr, no. I saw a porno flick in college."

"No, no, no. While you're here you buy at least five DVDs that turn you on and take them home. You set up the DVD player in the bedroom, and you watch them with Pam while you're both naked and playing with each other's genitals. Follow your bliss after that. Use the films for ideas of things to do and try to each other. Get worldly. God, I thought everybody did that."

Sean nodded. I could see him mentally taking notes.

I asked, "Do you read erotic stories to each other?"

"No. I assume you know where to find those?"

"Internet. Sites like storiesonline and Literotica are some of the best with the most stories. Pay attention to the Group and Loving Wives stories, but not the BTB stories."

"BTB?"

"Burn the bitch stories. Try cuckolding, you might like it. She might like it. Get her a lover. Do a threesome with Pam and somebody else. Another guy or woman. Both."

"Oh, fuck. That's really radical."

"It sounds to me like you need radical. The alternative is to become a boiling frog."

"Boiling frog?" Sean was beginning to sound pathetic.

"If you put a frog in a pan of hot water on a stove it'll hop out. If you put a frog into a pan of room temperature water on the stove it'll swim around. Turn on the heat, and it keeps swimming until it becomes a boiled frog. Lots of marriages and relationships are like that. They slowly erode away until there's little there worth mentioning. You stay together because it's convenient and safe. Get bold. Take a stand. Be unpredictable. Do radical things. Put some passion in your relationship. Go above and beyond, and I don't mean just bringing flowers home -- although I love flowers and Pam probably does too."

"Wow, you make it sound so easy."

"It's easy when it's a joint effort, and harder if you have to drag your partner along and they're reluctant; then they're on their way to becoming a boiled frog."

* * * * *

"So, what does my favorite architect want to do for dinner?" We had just met in the lobby of the small hotel we were staying at about a mile north of all the famous casinos, but only a few blocks from city hall where we had to meet Monday morning at nine-thirty.

Sean suggested, "I think I saw a Ruby Tuesday a block that way as the taxi brought us here. We could eat and then walk around a little."

An hour later we strolled out the door of the restaurant. I took Sean's arm and led him east, away from North Las Vegas Boulevard, where all the action seemed to be. I knew from some Internet research that there were several real dives where I was headed with him. Sean's education was about to start.

We found the Wet Pussy Lounge right where I'd expected. I led Sean past the heavyset bouncer into the place. Jana was ten feet behind us. Sean paid the cover charge, and in we went. As expected the place was dark, a stage was lit in various colored spotlights, and a nude woman about my age was doing a bump and grind, trying to appeal to a table of men next to the stage. Periodically, she'd squat near them, totally exposing her pussy, and allow them to stick five-dollar bills in the garter belt she wore to hold up her sexy thigh-high black net stockings. Of course, she was wearing fuck me shoes.

Jana took a nearby table away from the stage, and sent out 'don't fuck with me' signals to anybody that came near her except for the waitress. I think some of the men thought she was a lesbian here for a charge up. I'd given her the opportunity to sit with us, but she turned us down.

We took a table and I looked at Sean after we ordered two beers. Sean's tongue was almost lolling out the corner of his mouth along with some drool.

I commented, "Remind you of Pam?" I thought I'd needle him about how sexy his wife was. I had no idea, of course.

"No," he stammered, "not a bit. She's got pubic hair -- that girl has none."

I bluntly told him, "That's so you can see her pussy better, and even look inside her vagina if she squats in the right way."

"Elsa! That's gross," Sean said.

I gestured at the stage. Another cute young thing had appeared wearing the makings of a sexy maid's uniform. There were many layers to her outfit, and she proceeded to draw out the agony of removing every item of clothing except her pretty little socks that had bows on them and her fuck me shoes. Sean drooled throughout the whole performance.

Towards the end of the maid's show, I stuck a ten in his hand and said, "Go put that in her garter belt. Tell her you think she's the sexiest thing you've ever seen too." I pushed Sean to a standing position, and gave him a shove towards the stage.

Sean staggered to the edge of the stage, and the maid went right over to him. He bumbled around putting the bill in her garter belt; she finally had to help him. I heard him tell her exactly the words I'd prompted him with over the loud music filling the joint.

The maid took Sean's hand, singled out one finger, and ran it through her slit. She feigned an orgasm, and then scolded him for being such a naughty man. I was doubled over in laughter. Sean would have never done anything like that.

He lurched back to the table, not that he was drunk; he was sober but discombobulated at this strange environment. I looked around the place. Wet Pussy was half full, about three-quarters men and one-fourth women all with escorts of some kind except for Jana. I glanced at her and she nodded back at me; we were cool.

As Sean sat, I said, "Sean, smell your finger." He did. "What's it smell like?"

He smiled, finally; "Really nice pussy. Almost as good as Pam."

"Ah, so you have smelled your wife. We're making progress."

About ten minutes after the maid finished her strip, she appeared at our table the way she had ended her gig -- naked except for garter belt, sexy socks, and shoes. I pointed at Sean as he looked at her in a state of wonder.

The maid, whose name turned out to be Belle, sat in Sean's lap and started a lap dance in sync with the loud music. She gave him about five minutes worth, dirty talking and teasing him all the while. I was laughing most of the time because he was so not with the agenda of the night.

For one, Sean didn't know what to do with his hands. I took one and put it on Belle's nearest breast. She wiggled into his grasp a little more and then brought his other hand around her so he was holding both augmented boobs. I wondered who her plastic surgeon had been; the scars barely showed.

Sean at least started to fondle the large melons Belle allowed. Meanwhile, she ground away on his pecker. I wondered how he was doing in the cock department. The men and women at other tables were watching him and cheering him on. One table was chanting, "Cum, cum, cum."

When Belle finally rose, I could see that she'd left a large pussy stain on his pants, plus Sean had cum creating a bigger stain a little higher up his body. He quickly jerked a paper napkin into his lap to cover his embarrassment, but it was too late.

I slipped a C-note to Belle while Sean tried to tuck his legs under the microscopic table and pretend the last ten minutes hadn't happened. Belle winked at me, and then leaned over a whispered in my ear.

Belle said, "Hey, you want to join me in a little strip for the Club. You're cute and would be a big hit. I have to go on again in thirty minutes." I was obviously thinking about her proposition. She chided, "Come on; it'll be fun. Where else can you do this and get away with it?"

I asked her, "Costumes?"

"Yeah, come back through that door in about fifteen minutes and we'll get you suited up in something. You can be a teacher; how's that? I'll play the naughty student.

I nodded and agreed, "We'll play the rest by ear."

Sean's mouth was hanging open. "You ... you ... you're going to go on stage ... in front of all these people ... and take your clothes off?"

I laughed, "Sean, I just spent nine days in Mexico and I was nude most of the time. Here's my cellphone. While I'm up there I want you to take a video of the whole scene -- Belle, me, and what we do." I teased, "Besides, maybe by then that mess in your pants will dry out."

Thirty minutes later, Belle strutted onstage wearing Mary Jane shoes, those cute socks, a plaid micro-skirt, white undies, and a bra and white blouse and school tie. This portrayed her as a very sexy student who had obviously developed some serious breasts at a far younger age than the rest of the population.