Chapter 1
Joshua at the Penthouse
It was Saturday night, and I was doing what I usually did during the weekend: getting laid. New York never ran out of its share of beauties, and it wasn’t very hard to bring a girl home.
Part of it was because the females lost it when they saw my penthouse. The place was a spectacular spread on Central Park West with an impressive view of emerald lawns below. Plus, there were the other things as well. My looks. The Ferrari in the garage. Even the giant chandelier that hung in my living room, crystals sparkling like stars.
At the moment, a blonde waited for me on the couch, giggling with a glass of champagne in one hand. Clearly, she wasn’t in school to become a doctor, a dentist, or anything respectable. The girl was more of a stripper-type, with long extensions, bright blue contacts, and an obscenely short skirt. So of course, it didn’t take long before we were stealing kisses, and it took even less time to escalate into a make-out session.
Our hands roamed all over each other’s bodies, hot and hungry. Her breasts felt magnificent, and her palms were quick to run down my shirt and squeeze the growing bulge I had in my pants.
Things became even more crazy once she ripped off my shirt, revealing a broad, bronzed chest. In retaliation, I tore her dress to shreds, revealing a sexy bra without any panties. Oh yeah. This girl had gone out tonight to get some action, and I was more than happy to oblige.
She leaned her head into the crotch of my pants, throwing off my belt and practically clawing at my trousers to remove the fabric. She wanted me bad, and I was growing harder watching her go crazy on me.
Once we were both fully naked, her mouth found my dick fast. While she sucked on my cock like a hungry animal, I fondled her perky tits and pulled on her hair. I was growling, and she moaned a high-pitched squeak in return, writhing and mewling with ecstasy.
As my shaft grew wetter with each second, the blonde kept me in her mouth. I could feel her growing moist as my fingers found her soft pussy lips. Every time my hand came even close to penetrating her, she would let out a gleeful moan. Oh yeah. I was driving the blonde crazy with barely an ounce of effort.
I didn’t even bother carrying her little ass up to my bedroom. I lay back on the couch and pulled her on top of me, and she found her place in my lap. Like a whore, my dick slipped right up that slick channel with no resistance, the sweet thing riding me as fast and hard as she could.
I smacked her ass and held onto her back to control the speed of her grinding. It was really hot. She was definitely used to taking hard dick.
“You’re making me melt, baby,” the blonde panted in my ear.
But I was close to finishing, and I didn’t want her to be in control of that. Even the best girls have been unable to finish me in the way that I want. So I pushed her off my lap, stood up, and bent the female over the couch. She stuck her ass up high, eager to be pounded.
Good because there was no mercy. I fucked her hard, not stopping or slowing down, and fortunately, the blonde was soaked, easily able to accept my massive length. Plus, this girl was feisty; occasionally, she would try and take control, backing up into me to throw off my rhythm. Whenever she would go against my flow, I would grab a handful of her hair and bend her back down as far as she could go.
It didn’t last long. Her moans and cries for more were all it took to send me over the edge. I came hard, pounding her faster than ever before, ensuring that she took every ounce of jism in my balls.
But after we’d both had mind-blowing orgasms, I didn’t fall into the trap of settling down on the couch and getting comfortable. I left her on the sofa, went to the bathroom, answered a few texts, and when I came back out, she was already putting her dress back on. I was grateful that I didn’t have to be the one to make the request.
“This is such an amazing place,” she purred, taking in the penthouse. “You know, you never did give me that grand tour you promised.”
“That’ll have to wait till next time,” I grunted dismissively, knowing full well there wasn’t going to be a next time. “I’m actually kind of beat. I think I’m gonna turn in for the night.”
“Oh,” she said, disappointed. “Okay.”
I didn’t like abruptly kicking girls out, but past experience told me that if I didn’t make it clear what my intentions from the get go, they wouldn’t leave. Conversation wasn’t really my thing because it always ruined a good time.
I escorted her to the elevator, got her number—saving it under “Blonde Bar”—and watched the female go down faster than she’d gone down on me.
A few minutes later at eight p.m., like clockwork, I got a phone call from my mom. I always had to answer because Nancy would keep calling until I picked up.
I answered the cell. “Hey, Mom.”
“Joshua, hi,” she buzzed. “I’m so sorry to be calling you this late, but I assumed you would be up and active like you usually are on the weekends.”
You have no idea. “I know,” was my harrumph. “What’s up, Ma?”
Nancy wasn’t even fazed at my abrupt tone.
“Listen honey,” she said. “I was wondering if you were free to come by the house tomorrow afternoon?”
“Umm,” I hedged.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see my parents, but lately, anytime that I’d go back home, they would go down a list of criticisms. And ever since I turned thirty earlier, the list had only grown. My mom had been telling me to settle down for years, which was still something I had no interest in doing. My dad had been preaching something non-stop about “taking life more seriously.”
Because Dad runs and owns a prominent recording studio in New York, which is how we became wealthy. I never had to go to college or get a job, and for years, my parents didn’t seem to mind me just living off my trust fund and promoting the studio to my rich friends. That’s work in a way, right?
But now, my dad was ready to retire, and he’d been slowly training me to take over for him as CEO. It wasn’t something that I was ecstatic about, but I knew exactly how to do the job, so I wasn’t putting up much of a fight.
“Are you not free tomorrow?” my mom asked.
I sighed, bracing myself for a full day of criticism and scrutiny. “No, I can swing by tomorrow.”
“Wonderful! Dress nice, and run a comb through your hair, please.”
I scowled, which was okay since she couldn’t see.
“Why, what’s up? What’s going on tomorrow?”
“Just some family business,” she stated vaguely. “I think you’re going to like what your father and I have in mind.”
“Um, okay.”
“Don’t be like that, and don’t get defensive. Will you make sure you get here by two?”
“Okay, Mom,” I grunted.
“Give yourself time to drive,” she added. “You know how bad traffic gets on Sunday afternoons. Get some sleep, and we’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I hung up. My stomach was immediately churning, wondering was in store for the next day.