The Good Life Pt. 01

Bed, Champagne, Bath
"Uhhh, uhh, uhhh"
Each moan from the stunning beauty corresponded to a thrust of Maxwell's hips. He repeatedly drove his lengthy cock into the heart of his lover's womb.
Milling in the corner of the room was another beauty, who had her breasts on full display. She wore only her lace-topped stockings and high heels. Nothing else. In her hand, was a glass of champagne from which she occasionally sipped.
Amongst the grunts and moans that echoed around the luxury hotel suite, was a relaxing slosh of water. A third work of art was slowly moving her hand in circles underneath the surface of the hot bath water, touching her delicate parts as she watched Maxwell at work.
A crescendo of sensual moans culminated in a frenzy. The two lovers were not willing to concede to exhaustion nor exertion. They fondled, they bit, they teased, licked, fingered, tongued, and kissed- all in the name of pleasure.
After a spike of pleasure elicited by her soft fingertips, the beauty in the bath's eyes fluttered shut. Her head abruptly tilted to the ceiling to accommodate her sense of relief and pleasure.
Once she finally came down from orgasmic heaven, the champagne-sipping beauty was perched atop Maxwell. Her strong figure, curated by her prominent curves, slowly rose and fell as she rhythmically impaled herself on the cock of her lover. Her breasts bounced with perfect accuracy, and her face told a story of pure ecstasy. The beauty in the bath was mesmerised.
Maxwell, too, was mesmerised. Her strong back gave way to a pair of soft and round cheeks that bounced against his lower abdomen. The whole time he could feel her inner walls massage his shaft, and once more his pleasure built towards climax.
Maxwell's third ejaculation of the afternoon erupted as the beauty's weight came down. Her ass sat invitingly against his body, as he relinquished his seed into her accepting hole. She settled for a while, feeling the cock empty itself within her. Maxwell enjoyed her warmth, both inside and out, all the while. The beauty finally climbed off, and seductively swayed towards the bathroom.
With great elegance, she manoeuvred the tub and lowered herself into the occupied bath. The ajar door that the beauty in the bath had watched Maxwell through, was now a window for Maxwell to watch the two goddesses foreplay with fervour.
They devoured each other's soft lips as if they were melting together. Göztepe Escort In perfect harmony, moans filled the bathroom first but soon reached Maxwell's overjoyed ear. The splashing of water meant only one thing, as did the gasps that soon followed. They traded turns at each other's breasts and necks, kissing in a near-competitive spirit.
Maxwell could not help but smile. A beauty lay delicately on his broad chest, in a doze induced by his sexual appetite and performance. While the other two beauties created a perfect scene exclusively for his viewing pleasure.
Working Conditions
Maxwell slipped from underneath the sleeping beauty, making an effort to comfortably reposition her. He gathered his strewn clothes, slowly buttoning up his smart-casual linen shirt and returned his boxers to their intended place.
Somewhat clothed, Maxwell returned to his hotel suite's designated office. He had been chairing an important meeting outlining company strategy in the short term but adjourned for a thirty-minute break.
Fifty minutes since that moment, Maxwell prodded the glowing mute button and beckoned his fellow board members and stakeholders on the call to grant him their attention.
They obliged, each greeting him back for the afternoon. Nobody mentioned the unscheduled delay, or lack of explanation as to why. It had long become convention with Maxwell.
The meeting continued, with input from various department and regional leaders, each giving Maxwell the performance of their lifetime. He was the boss, he had patronage. They all knew it, they all wanted it.
Maxwell's attention waned. The underlings fought over policy direction and performance-related targets, their impassioned approval-seeking contributions served only to bore Maxwell.
The door parted, though nobody appeared in its absence. Confused, but logically assuming wind or something else natural, Maxwell declared to the conference call that it was time for summaries and goodbyes.
He was mid-sentence when he felt soft hair grazing his exposed thighs and groin. Warm hands followed, prying at his buttoned boxers.
He glanced down, while expertly managing business as usual. Three beautiful faces looked back.
His hands wandered, caressing the soft skin of their faces, while they fished for their prize. At the first sighting of the said prize, a warm and wet hole engulfed it. Maxwell's member grew inside Escort Göztepe the mouth of the beauty, formerly in the bath, who swirled her tongue against his cock head. The beauties on either side longingly waited their turn but settled on suckling on his testicles.
The mute button glowed red once more, Maxwell had little interest in hearing out the summaries he had just asked for. He had far more important business to attend to.
The afternoon turned evening, then night. The three women had been through another few rounds of 'activity' before being shown the door.
Disputed Inheritance
Maxwell Hutchinson was the only child of the legendary Arthur Hutchinson, the founder of the Hutchinson Family Enterprise. They'd made their fortune in the world of crime, particularly trafficking. Maxwell, whilst his father was alive to deal with the underground aspect of business, set up legitimate companies that could front the operation. He had primarily dealt with that side of things before his dad's death. Now, he finds himself at the centre of both operations.
The death of his father had caused a stir amongst the enterprises' associates who had decided it was the time for manoeuvres. Maxwell had found significant success in elevating the enterprise's legitimate profile but was yet to translate his business acumen to the world of crime.
He severely lacked the respect that his father commanded, and the instincts to ensure complete adherence to his plans.
About a month ago, his tentative leadership position was dealt a heavy blow. The supply chain that carried products and cattle (as known within the business) from the East into the West had been severed.
Omer Tas had been a reliable associate of Arthur for a generation. He operated out of the border region between Turkey and Syria, but his reach had grown far beyond. He had connections with the Russians, British, Albanians, Nigerians, Mexicans... you name it.
Omer had for the last decade been vetting cattle and acting as a trusty distributor. He had the best and most fruitful connections in the East, and the Hutchinson Trafficking arm had come to rely on his operation to maintain their position as the primary trafficker in the UK.
However, Maxwell had received word that Omer and the London-based Albanians had begun a joint operation, and were phasing out partnership with the Hutchinson Enterprise. Maxwell confronted Omer on Göztepe this fact, but this only acted to accelerate the supply chain collapse.
The past month was purely vendetta-driven. Maxwell and a group of trusted associates had been plotting retaliation. He felt the need to make a statement so that he could garner the respect his father had. Omer Tas was as well-known as you could get in the industry- certainly, a worthy opponent to make your name against.
Tonight was the special night. The revenge plan is a go.
Below-the-familial-belt
The private plane touched down against a deep-red sunlit sky in Gaziantep. Maxwell buttoned his tailored suit as he stepped down the carpet-clad stairs.
A few steps later, he disappeared into the depths of a blacked-out car.
Fifteen minutes up the road, five armed men abseiled down the side of the Tes household. Deciding upon the second floor at the back of the house as a point of entry, the men planted their feet against the expensive windows. With the utmost professional efficiency, they diamond-picked the corner of the glass and swooped into the building. They swept the building with marine-like speed until they found their special target.
Maxwell's car approached the driveway, and one of the camouflaged men welcomed him through the wide-open front door. The remnants of Omer's security lay lifeless on the floor in a puddle of their blood. At the centre of the hallway was a distressed Seda Tes, tied to a rickety wooden chair and gagged.
The twenty-one year-olds beauty was ever-present, despite the makeup-stained puffy eyes and runny nose. She was a typically beautiful Turkish woman. Her soft skin was a golden colour, and her dark features caused a stir in Maxwell's suit paints. Maxwell stroked her cheek with a solitary knuckle, eliciting a whimper.
"Scissors!" Maxwell declared.
He was handed a pair, which he used to tend to Seda's garments. Slowly, piece by piece, Seda was relieved of her clothing. Her breasts looked lusciously full but had a delightful natural sag that allows them to sit invitingly on her otherwise slight frame. Lowering his gaze, Maxwell was overjoyed to see an artful pubic hairstyle that framed her pink labia.
Leaning in toward her ear, he whispered, "This is your daddy's doing. You're mine now."
Tears welled in her eyes.
Her body was illuminated by Maxwell's flash, her picture would serve as an attachment to a defining text to Omer.
"You picked the wrong side, Omer. I've taken collateral. I think this one (referring to Seda) will be great for business. What'd you think?"
Seven hours later, Maxwell, with Seda aboard, touched down back in London.