Blake

Sage has that look in her eyes that tells me she is on her way to another spectacular orgasm. Her pupils are dilated, her eyebrows arched, and the stress lines in her forehead are gaining prominence. I love doing this for my former interns, especially ones like her. I knew the first time I saw her that she was going to be an incredible lay. She has those long, shapely legs that lead to a beautiful heart-shaped ass. It’s the type of ass that makes you just want to stop and worship it. She isn’t lacking anything upstairs either. Her beautiful, naturally round tits are more than a handful. Oh—that’s what I meant by upstairs.

I pull back and turn her body, positioning her hands up against the wall. She looks absolutely stunning from this angle. Her beautiful ass beneath me, the gorgeous curve of her back in front of me, and her cascading blonde locks flowing off her shoulders. I slip inside her and reach around to cup her breasts. She immediately responds with cries of delight as I begin to pound her tender flesh with my rigid cock. Her cries are so loud that I will undoubtedly be getting shit from the captain and co-pilot after we land. But it won’t be the first time, so I slide my hands down to her hips, gripping them tightly as I continue to give her everything I have to offer. I love the intensity of this position. My cock is as hard as it has been in ages.

Her hands begin to slide down the wall as she shudders through another orgasm. In desperation, she grabs hold of the windowsill while I deliver the final strokes, sending both of us into the ultimate state of bliss. This is the fifth time in the last thirty-six hours and the second time since noon, so my balls ache as the final load passes between us. We both immediately slump into the bed beneath us and I wrap my arms around her from behind. “That was amazing,” she moans, nestling back against me.

“Yes, it was,” I reply, placing my hand on her smooth ass. “You’re amazing.” I can feel my quickened heartbeat and the abundance of body heat rising between us as I wait the appropriate amount of time before getting up and getting dressed. I run my hand along the curve of her hip and down her thigh, knowing that it will undoubtedly be the last time. It always has to end by the time we get home. It’s part of the deal. They work as interns at my firm for a six-week stint, and if we hit it off, I treat them to a special weekend in the Bahamas. No strings attached. It’s the only part of my career that I truly enjoy, a steady stream of smart, sexy legal interns.

I’ve rarely had a bad weekend, and there are never any hard feelings—that I know of, anyway. After spending six weeks working at the firm, they know me and I know them. At any given time, there are several of them competing for an invitation to the island, so that makes for an enjoyable work environment. I reserve all the major holidays, plus Memorial Day, the Fourth of July, and Labor Day for family and friends. Other than that, I spend most of my weekends entertaining these beauties. Where do they all come from? My alma mater, of course. One of my dad’s law partners left his private practice to become a law professor. He refers a handful of them each month to my personal assistant, Kayla Young. She interviews each of the girls to insure that all candidates meet my professional, as well as personal, criteria. I’ve known Kayla since I was a kid, so she knows exactly what I demand in an intern. It’s a beautiful system for a single, wealthy, thirty-four-year-old attorney who still has no desire to settle down.

“Oh, crap,” Sage says with a sigh after her phone buzzes several times in a row. “My boyfriend is already back in the city and looking for me.”

“Your boyfriend?” I’m a bit shocked since this is the first I had heard of him.

“Yeah, he’s pissed because I never told him I was going out of town, and I turned off my ringer and have been letting his calls go to voicemail,” she admits with a worried look.

“Who’s this boyfriend, anyway?”

“Well, it’s Cory Derringer,” she replies sheepishly.

“The linebacker for the Giants? Really?” I shake my head in disgust. “You could’ve told me that. The last fucking thing I need is for a guy like that to find out I’ve been banging his girlfriend all weekend.”

“Yeah, I don’t think this is going to end so well. He seems a lot more pissed than I thought he would be.” She flashes her phone in my direction, allowing me to read a couple of his messages.

Yes, he’s definitely pissed, and he’s on his way to LaGuardia to meet us when we land. I always make if clear to these girls that I don’t mess around with women who are married or involved, because it’s not worth the hassle. It’s even part of the non-disclosure agreement that they sign at the end of the exit interview. The problem is, none of them have a pot to piss in so even if they violate the agreement, there aren’t any real consequences. I’ve got to go see if the captain can save my ass again by making a last-minute flight plan change. It will definitely be a less tense situation if we land at JFK.

A couple of bribes later, everything is set. “Ok, hun, here’s how it’s going to work. You are going to tell him that you’ve been at a job interview. Here is the card for our office in Nassau. If he calls the number, it will reroute to my assistant. She will answer and confirm that you were on the island for the interview.” I give her a stern glare to let her know that she will be going along with the plan.

“Okay, so I’ll tell him I’ve been at an interview and give him this card.” She studies the front of the business card. “He’ll ask why I didn’t tell him about the interview. What should I say?”

“You wanted it to be a surprise. Unfortunately, you won’t be getting the job, but as a consolation prize, the two of you will have a night on the town, courtesy of the firm,” I inform her, scrolling through the contacts in my phone. “You will leave JFK in a limousine, which will then stop by his place and pick him up. You will both be treated to the best meal that either of you have ever eaten. I’ll call ahead to Mercille’s on fifth and make all the arrangements.”

“Oh, that sounds great!” she squeals. “Hopefully, he’ll go along with it.”

“I hope so too. Now go get freshened up.” I give her another stern look and point toward the lavatory. “I don’t want you smelling like me when he gets ahold of you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fresh as a daisy.” She giggles. “A wilted daisy, maybe. A daisy that has been fucking and sucking for two solid days.” She giggles even harder.

“That’s not funny.” I smirk. “There’s a shower and all the bath products you can imagine in there, so take full advantage of them. You’ve got an hour and forty minutes until we land.” I pull my phone from my pocket and sit down in one of the overstuffed recliners. I’m getting too old for this shit. In fact, I’ve got another birthday coming up on Friday, and it’s kind of getting me down. I remember the days when I thought I would be older than shit at age thirty-five. I don’t feel old, but these girls are definitely seeming more and more immature. After checking the weather forecast, I send Kayla a text regarding my schedule for the coming week.

Me: I think I’ll be commuting from the island this week. Anything I can’t afford to miss?

There is no immediate reply, which indicates that Kayla is ignoring my text for one reason or other. She doesn’t like it when she has to clean up the messes that I create in my social life, especially if it means interrupting her on a Sunday afternoon. Sunday has always been her time for family, friends, and reading during the fall and winter months. It looks like a beautiful fall day in the city, so she is probably out for a walk around Central Park. I lean back and close my eyes until I feel the vibration of my phone.

Kayla: The Hamptons in late September? What happened now? : (

Me: Just found out Sage has a boyfriend. Cory Derringer.

Kayla: The pro football player?

Me: That’s him, and he’s pissed. You might be getting a call from him. If so, Sage was on the island for a job interview. I owe you.

Kayla: Okay, but you already owe me a few. You have court Tues morning @ 9:00, Simpson Industries @ 1:00 that afternoon. Court again on Thurs @ 1:00. Other than that, your schedule is pretty flexible.

Me: Good. Let’s push anything that’s not critical to one of the other partners. I could use a little solitude.

Kayla: You have two exit interviews tomorrow afternoon. Patti and Camila.

Shit. Patti is a cute little blonde with a bubbly personality, the kind of girl who lights up the room when she comes through the door. Camila, on the other hand, is a drop-dead gorgeous Latina who can make me hard with just a look of those sultry eyes. I have already planned out the two upcoming weekends to make sure each of them has a spot on the docket.

Me: You’ll have to reschedule them to next Monday. Let them know I’m out sick.

Kayla: Okay, you must be sick.

Me: Just need a break from it all. Thanks.

I toss my phone into my briefcase and sit back, not knowing what is really bothering me. It has nothing to do with the current situation with Cory and Sage. Hell, what could he do to me? Beat up one of the most powerful attorneys in the city? No one is that stupid. He would never risk losing his multi-million-dollar salary over a girl, even one as hot as Sage. My time with her is over anyway. She’s all his. Fuck it. I’ve just been running too hard and need to catch my breath. That, and I always thought I would’ve found someone special by the time I was this age. I turn my thoughts to the beach house in the Hamptons. It’s a great place to kick back and relax this time of year.

I think back to when I was a little boy. I used to spend a week out there each fall with my grandfather. He loved it out there, but my grandmother refused to go out after Labor Day because there was no staff. Therefore, grandpa would take me along to keep him company. Those days spent out there with him are some of my fondest memories of my youth. He and I would fish, then we would have a fish fry on the beach in the evening. It’s the only time I ever saw anyone in my family actually cook anything from scratch. I still love the taste of buttery fish and vegetables roasted in tin foil over an open fire. I can feel my blood pressure dropping already just from the thought of it. That’s exactly what I need. If I’m in the mood to party and fuck, it’s hard to beat the Bahamas. But when I need to kick back and recharge, there is nothing like escaping to the Hamptons in the off season.

Kayla

Blake always burns himself out. No one can work eighty-hour weeks and party like a college kid on spring break every weekend. I keep telling him that he needs to slow down and start acting his age in order to avoid careening off the tracks. Him admitting that he needs some time away from the office makes me nervous. He has obviously exceeded his limit. It hits him every few years in the fall, when the weather begins to turn cold and dreary in the city. That’s the whole reasoning behind his sex-filled weekend escapades to the Bahamas. He has always claimed that they give him enough sunshine and endorphins to keep on going, but when that fails, things tend to get bad very quickly. The last time he went off the tracks, he dropped the ball on two major clients and it nearly cost him his spot at the firm. Only the fact that he is JD’s son saved him. Since I love working for him, I made a promise that if I ever saw it happening again, I would intervene much quicker. Luckily, this is an unusually light week. Maybe he realizes that it’s the calm before the storm and that’s why he’s doing it. Whatever the case, I’ve got one week to get him back in shape for the biggest patent litigation suit he has ever handled. He needs to be at the top of his game if we’re going to win, so I’ve got my work cut out for me. Good thing I’ve always loved a challenge.