CHAPTER TWO: TYLER JENNER
I always meditated for thirty minutes in the morning, no matter where I was or what I was doing. It was my way of reconnecting with a higher sense of my internal self and realigning my psyche with the nature and the cosmos. It was like fucking oxygen for me.
I would find a quiet place where I could strip off all my clothes and be stark-naked and alone, then spend the next thirty minutes just breathing and thinking of absolutely nothing.
It was hard to clear my mind sometimes. Especially now that my outdoor sporting goods company had shot into the stratosphere and made me a billionaire at age thirty-five.
Shit, I just wanted to sell hunting and camping equipment like my dad did out of his little shop in Denver before he died. Now, Jenner Outdoor has become one of the largest conglomerates in the world.
Jenner Investment Group, the parent company, not only had major holdings in retail, but also in tourism, real estate, hotels, travel, communications, and technology.
I didn’t understand half the shit we did anymore.
I just let my right-hand man Charlie Prescott handle the business side of things so the money would keep flowing into my bank account and I could hang out in the woods doing what I loved; hunting, trapping, fishing, traveling, and fucking – and not necessarily in that order.
I stood on the balcony off of the master bedroom of the log cabin that I had built on the side of a mountain overlooking the tiny town of Mountain View, Colorado. I spread my legs and stretched my arms toward the clear blue morning sky. I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly as I brought my arms down in an arc to my sides, then inhaled deeply as my arms swept up again.
It was fucking freezing outside, but that was all part of the process. I meditated outdoors as much as possible to be close to Mother Nature. I longed to become one with nature and the cosmos, and the best way to do that was to meditate outside.
Standing there on my balcony at 5,000 feet above sea level, I didn’t think anyone from below could see me, not that it mattered. I ran around naked most of the time when I was home. I wasn’t a nudist, per se. I just felt that clothing was a way of hiding one’s true self. With me, what you see is what you get. So if you’re afraid of knocking on my door and being greeted by Mr. Cock & Balls, don’t come a’knocking.
So, here I am out on the balcony, as naked as the day I was born, breathing in and out and swaying my arms. My nipples were hard as diamonds and my balls had literally crept up inside my body to stay warm.
My poor cock had drawn up like an accordion and I was counting down the seconds in my head. Thirty minutes is eighteen-hundred seconds. I counted backward as I meditated. I was at three… two… one.
I let my arms fall to my sides and blew out a final deep breath, clouding the air in front of my face, then hurried back inside. I closed the patio doors behind me and paused at the foot of the bed to stare at the naked woman who was sleeping there.
She was a redhead, with big tits and a shaved pussy. I could tell she was a natural redhead by the day-old stubble on her cunt. There was a butterfly tattoo on her right hip. I couldn’t remember her name, but I vividly remembered everything we had done. Tanya maybe. Or Tammy. Did it really matter? I had picked her up at the strip club last night and brought her home to christen the new house. And we had christened from every possible position.
I found my phone on the dresser and carried it with me into the bathroom. I turned on the shower to let the room steam up. I pressed Charlie’s number. I could hear his phone ringing in the bedroom across the hall. He answered on the third ring, as usual. I could tell by his voice that I had woken him up.
“What?” he asked. He still sounded drunk from the night before. “What time is it?”
“It’s eight in the morning and there’s a woman in my bed,” I said as I checked my reflection in the mirror. I turned my back to the mirror and looked over my shoulder. There were scratch marks trailing down my shoulder blades. Ah, Miss Redhead had claws.
“So, what do you want me to do about it?”
“I want you to get out of bed and make sure she gets home alright. You know how much of a dick I am with mornings after.”
“Fuck you, you asshole,” Charlie said. “Why is it I always get charged with sending them packing? Don’t forget, dick head, you’re interviewing that chef this morning.”
“I won’t forget,” I said, reaching in to adjust the water. “I’m going to take a shower. I’d like for the woman in my bed to be gone by the time I get out.”
“Yes, your highness,” Charlie said. “Shall I send a slave in to wash the royal dick for you, sir?”
I grinned as I reached down and tugged my cock back to life. It was still cold, but filled quickly with warm blood as it grew in my hand.
“No, I can handle that on my own. Just take out the trash please.”
“Yes, Mr. Jenner, sir. Have I failed to mention what royal asshole you are?”
I grinned as I tossed the phone on the counter and stepped into the steaming shower to wash the stain of the previous night away.