Our three children were going to be spoiled brats if we kept up this trend.
Abigail, Aiden, and Charlotte were turning one. I wanted to have a small gathering of people, but Preston insisted on doing it big. He kept telling me they only got one chance at a first birthday, so I caved and allowed him to invite people.
But even though we had already blown out the cakes and sang ‘Happy Birthday’, the people just kept on showing up.
My parents were there, doting on their grandchildren and getting to know Preston’s parents. They were helping him in the kitchen while the kids rolled around in the nursery. People kept asking me if they could help with anything and wanted to sit down and talk, but I was too busy answering the door.
How many people did Preston invite to this thing?
“So, what do you think?” Preston asked.
“Why are eighty people necessary to celebrate our children’s first birthday?” I asked.
“Well, some of them are here for the housewarming party,” he said.
“Housewarming party? When were you going to tell me that?”
“I told you now. Does that count?”
“Preston, I thought we agreed on no housewarming party.”
“But that’s not fun. People bring their good wines and presents during house-warming parties. Plus, don’t you want to celebrate this place? We’re going to raise our children here, Delilah.”
“But does it require me to keep after eighty people?” I asked.
“How about this? You go sit down with some of the other moms and get off your feet. I’ll bring you a glass of wine, then I’ll run behind the rest of the party.”
“Can you handle that?” I asked.
“I’ve brought businesses to empires, Delilah. I think I can handle a party.”
“Suit yourself,” I said. “I’ll be waiting for my wine.”
Six months into bringing the kids home from the hospital, our apartment became cramped. No matter how we arranged it or what we did, there just wasn’t enough room for all of us. Even with the four bedrooms and spreading the children out as they got older, it was too much. I didn’t have any space for myself, Preston was always complaining about running into things, and the bigger the kids got the smaller their play space seemed.
So, Preston got to work.
He researched homes we could grow into as a family and we walked around to a couple of properties. Some were too big and posed too many hazards with having three small children, but we finally settled on a place just outside of Philly. It had seven bedrooms, five bathrooms, a massive kitchen that poured into a large living room space, a wonderful dining area, and lots of land for the kids to eventually run around on.
It was perfect for us, and we moved in as soon as we could.
Now, we were planning our wedding. We weren’t doing anything extravagant, much to his parent’s disappointment. His mother had been waiting all her life to plan her only son’s wedding, so we ended up having to compromise. If she allowed us to have a small civil ceremony like we wanted, then we would let her throw us a massive wedding reception afterwards. She could invite whoever she wanted, decorate it however she wanted, and serve whatever she thought would be good to eat.
His mother was enthralled with the idea, and the dispute was settled.
Preston was running around like a rabid animal trying to keep up with everything and all I could do was laugh. He looked frazzled as he escorted people out of our home, trying to get them out as fast as he could. I knew what he was looking forward to. I knew what he was ready for. My parents had offered to take the triplets out to the park to explore for a couple of hours so Preston and I could have some alone time.
Our first true moment of alone time since the kids had been born.
Preston helped pack up our kids and away they went. My father was carrying Charlotte while Abigail and Aiden rode in the stroller. Their diaper bags were jam-packed with everything they could possibly need, and it was almost comical how ready Preston was to get them out. He sent them with more food than those kids would ever need and more diapers than they would ever go through. I giggled into my wine as he closed the door behind them, locking it and watching them drive away.
Then, he turned to me with a darkened stare as he began unbuttoning his shirt.
I propped my feet up on the coffee table and decided to watch the show. I sipped on my glass of wine, my eyes raking up and down his body. I slowly watched his muscles come into view. His rippling abs and his chiseled shoulders. His arms were bulging with veins I wanted to run my tongue up as he approached me, his cock pulsing behind his boxers. I could see the little wet spot his tip had already created. Aching for me as heat grew between my legs. I downed the rest of my wine as he removed the last of his clothing, standing in front of me clad in nothing but his glowing skin.
I was shaking at the prospect of him inside of me as I leaned forward and captured his length in my mouth.
His cock throbbed as his hand wound tightly within the tendrils of my hair. I sucked him all the way back as his cock curved down my throat. I could taste him dripping down me. Filling my stomach with his seed as he fucked my face. I ran my hands up his strong, twitching thighs as my hands wove around his hips. My fingernails found the meat of his ass and pulled him close, my nose descending into his skin as I hollowed out my cheeks.
“Holy shit, Delilah. The things you do to me. Fuck!”
He ripped his cock from my throat and yanked me up from the couch. His hands began to claw at my clothing as it fell to the floor in tatters. I was soaking wet for him. Dripping down my thighs as his lips nipped at my skin. My hands wrapped around him and shoved him to the couch, his body sprawling out for me as I planted my knees on either side of his head.
The devious glint in his eye as his hands ran up my naked thighs was enough to make me shiver.
“Come here,” he said.
He pulled my hips down onto his lips as his tongue pierced my folds. My juices spilled onto his face, coating his cheeks as he drank his fill of me. His tongue lapped deeply at my clit, jolting me as I rocked against his face. His hands dug into the excess of my thighs as I rode his lips, his tongue flicking my clit at lightning speed.
I reached down, threading my hands into his hair. I ground down onto him, his hands racing up to my tits. He squeezed them and watched them leak down my body, covering my skin in a glisten he had come to love. He wrapped his lips around my swollen nub, curling my toes as I gripped tighter onto his hair. My jaw unhinged in silent pleasure and stars burst in my vision. I could feel that coil in my gut tightening as fire shot through my veins.
“I love you. I love you…so…much…”
I threw my head back, my body jolting with my orgasm. Preston hummed into my body, causing me to gasp as I shook upon his lips. I collapsed into his arms as he sat up, my body draping over his as he planted his back against the couch.
I could feel his cock twitching between my legs as my pussy folds encompassed the whole of him.
His hands grasped my ass, rolling my trembling body into his. My arms snaked around his neck, my face buried into the crook of his neck. Kiss after kiss was pressing into his sweating skin as his cock slid into my entrance, causing us to groan in tandem with one another as his dick throbbed against my walls. He stroked that sweet spot within my body. The one that zipped electricity through my veins. I could feel my swollen clit peeking out from beneath its fleshy hood, seeking more friction as my body rolled deeper.
Took his cock deeper.
Felt his body closer to mine.
“Preston. Shit. You feel…oh. Fill me up. Please. Don’t stop.”
He moved with lightning speed as my back hit the couch. My legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper as he pounded into my hips. His cock split me in two as our lips crashed together, our tongues battling for dominance as I dug into his back. I could feel his muscles contracting for me. Working for my pleasure as his sweat dripped onto my skin. It had been over a y
ear since I’d had him this way. Had his carnal nature and felt his wild lust for me as he slammed into my body.
In fact, I hadn’t felt this desperate need since the night that started all of this.
The night we had gotten pregnant.
I unhooked my legs from his waist as his balls continued to smack my ass. My heels dug into the couch, my hips meeting his. We writhed together, our bodies reaching their climaxes as we moaned and gasped into each other’s bodies. His cock grew thicker and thicker, pushing against my fluttering walls as my arousal trickled down my ass crack.
I felt lightheaded with pleasure as Preston’s hips began to stutter.
“So close. So close. Cum with me Lilah. Cum with me.”
My legs grew taut as he dove into my wet warmth. His hips stilled and his cock twitched, spraying threads of cum deep within my body. My pussy milked him for all he was worth, my body trembling in his arms as my jaw unhinged with silent pleasure. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as he filled me to the brim, pumping so much cum into me it shot out onto the couch. I gasped for air as the room spun. I clung to his back as my body continued to shake. Preston dropped against me, our bodies molded to the couch as our hearts raced against one another’s.
Our lips met for a lazy kiss, our bodies quivering with aftershocks as his cock stayed sheathed within my body.
“I love you, Preston,” I said breathlessly.
“And I love you, Lilah,” he said.
He tried to pull out of me, but my hand flew to his ass. Pressing him back into me as I held him close.
“Just stay there. Just a little while longer.”
“It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” he asked.
Tears filled my eyes as I nodded my head.
“It’s such a shame,” he said as he moved his hips, “this body going to waste.”
I gasped as he slowly slid into me, his rhythm calm and his cock throbbing for more.
“We’ve spent so much time with the kids,” he said as he drew out, “that we haven’t had much time to ourselves.”
I shuddered as he buried himself back into me.
“Please don’t stop,” I said. “I want more of you.”
“More of me?” he said as he drew out. “Could you ask nicely?”
He slammed back into my pussy, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body as I cried out his name.
“Please!” I said. “Please give me more.”
His lips captured mine in a sweet little kiss as his hips pulled out again. I laid there panting, my heart racing and my tits pebbled to painful peaks. I wasn’t ready for this to end. My body was only getting started. I could feel my clit aching for more as the walls of my body grew hot for him again.
“I’ve never been one to deny the requests of a beautiful woman,” Preston said.
I smiled up at him as he slammed into me again, his tightly-wound curls raking against my clit. Our lips connected and his hips continued their assault, bringing me to more highs than I could ever imagine. He picked me up and took me on every surface he could have. The kitchen island. The window. Our bed and our shower. We christened our home with our flavorful juices as we whispered our love for one another, leaving marks behind that would signal to everyone exactly who we belonged to.
I was his, and he was mine.
And nothing could get in our way.
+++
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Nicole
Dirty Daddy
Her Billionaire’s Baby Book 1
Ellie Wild
1
Foster
“The building really is a steal. The company’s going out of business, and the price they’re offering is all inclusive. They aren’t even trying to sell off the furniture on any of the levels in order to try and recoup money. The guy’s just fucking bailing.”
“Doesn’t sound like a very smart man to me,” I said. “I’ve got no issues buying from him the potential he doesn’t see.”
“That’s why I wanted to meet you at your office today instead of waiting until this afternoon. If I can secure this price, then we’ll have our pick of what they’ve got in that building to use. I can hire someone to haul out the rest of the shit, and we can get this project going.”
“Sounds like a plan. Does that mean the meeting this afternoon is canceled?” I asked. “Can you guys handle something like that without me there?”
“Yes, Mr. Dobson. We’ll be just fine once we’ve gotten your approval.”
“Then, you’ve got it,” I said.
“This’ll put you on the map.”
“I’m already on the map,” I said. “Now, I want to be the map. I want people to come to me when they want something from that building. I’ve got massive plans for it.”
“Then, that is something we can do. All you need to do is-”
“Approve every single solitary change I want to make with the board, no matter what. Every faucet. Every piece of wallpaper-- which there will be none-- and every change of every toilet seat. Got it,” I said.
“I know you don’t like that part-”
“No, I don’t. I don’t like the fact that I own this company and have for five years, and yet a table full of old ass rich men somehow get to decide whether I’ve done my job well enough. They don’t own this company. They aren’t the experts. They simply hold stock and invest consistently in my projects. If I was bad at my job, they wouldn’t keep investing. That’s proof enough, the fact that they’re all still sitting there,” I said.
“And I agree wholeheartedly, Mr. Dobson, but that’s just the way things are.”
“Well, maybe things need to-...change.” A yawn peeled from my lips even as I was saying it. I’d done this song and dance a million fucking times. Some independent idiot would come in and want to start their own complex or condominium station and try to pimp it out. They’d really do it up-- jet bathtubs in all the main bathrooms, king-sized beds. Really furnish up the place and rent out the rooms to businessmen.
What they didn’t understand was that businessmen who came to New York either stayed in hotels because they wanted to discreetly bang someone or they stayed in the home of whoever they were banging.
Luxury condominiums never worked anywhere in the city unless you were selling them.
It was my fifth property I’d acquired in the past seven years doing this type of shit. I’d come in to the owner panicking with his balls between his legs and he’d beg me for the best possible estimate I could provide. I’d buy him out, so he wouldn’t be in half the debt he’s currently in, then I’d take everything and turn it into what it should’ve been. The money I brought in from these projects could power an entire third-world country for ten years.
And I was about to make a shitload more money with this latest venture.
“Something boring you?”
“Yes. You. Get out. You’ve got my approval. Come back to me when the construction crew is ready to revamp. I control that part,” I said.
“Just make sure you give me a rundown of things you want to change and get it to me. I can run at least some of it by the board so you don’t have to be, you know, bored anymore. That’ll give you a bit more freedom to go ahead and get some things done.”
“Just write the word ‘everything’ on a sheet of paper and slide it across the table. I’m sure they’ll get the message then,” I said.
The guy I was talking to was my project manager. I didn’t know his name, and I didn’t care. He was a full-time worker when I needed him, and he sat on my board taking up space when I didn’t. Honestly, I was really hoping he’d bring me something more interesting. I’d always wanted to revamp a theater or an opera house. Something in the entertainment industry that hadn’t sold itself out just yet to the modern era of entertainment.<
br />
I could bring a richness back to the arts that had long been lost. Every time I went to the symphony or the opera they were always trying to raise funds because they couldn't get enough asses in those seats. Sure, there were people who found that kind of thing stuffy. But, choirs and symphonies alike were updating themselves to become more appealing to the masses.
But those fucking amphitheaters and concert halls. They looked like something out of a dusty 1940s sleazy sex joint.
I could sink my bored-ass teeth into a project like that.
I took over the company after my dad passed five years ago. He didn’t have any help from his parents when starting this business, either. But I had a start. I shat on my parent’s views of college and started taking out loans and flipping houses to get money. Then, I started flipping those homes and renting them out. At one point, I had over one-hundred properties in my name and was raking in the money. I invested well and was living just fine until my dad passed, then the responsibility of his business fell to my shoulders.
Now-- at thirty-seven years of age-- I was the largest and wealthiest real estate mogul in the country. I specialize in all things real estate, but my passion was buying out all these failures other people endure just so I can make them better.
And it all started because I was crushing down walls and updating homes.
Honestly? I thought my father’s business would be more exciting when I was a kid. I saw him showing all these awesome properties and making people so happy. I thought he was, like, Superman or some shit. He was giving people their dreams in the form of houses, and I watched him grow from selling cookie-cutter houses in the suburbs to managing some of the most expensive properties New York City had to offer.
But holy fuck, showing homes was boring. You had to know shit about the house, like the plumbing and property taxes. You had to answer questions like ‘would this room be good for a nursery?’ or ‘when was the last time this bathroom was updated?’
Triplets Make Five Page 16
