by Alexis Angel
Many have speculated that Mr. Kane, who styles himself the King of Wall Street, has married Lorna in an effort to repair his tarnished image. However those people also point out that at the same time as marrying Lorna, he has elevated her to a position of great confidence—that of Chief Investment Counsel for the entire Kane Price firm.
In her role, it is the now Mrs. Lorna Kane who is advising on special investments designed to increase the Firm's bottom line. These investments are generally of an experimental nature and may or may not fall outside of the Firm's traditional portfolio of products. However the revenue they generate may be used to entice clients to increase their buy-in into other products and instruments.
Mr. Kane had set an ambitious agenda at the beginning of the year in which he planned to unveil newer and more revolutionary financial products. Many speculate that his tarnished reputation may have led Mason Kane to marry Lorna Lowell in a bid to bring an air of credibility and legitimacy to his position at the company and prevent a flight of capital from the traditionally button down clientele of Wall Street.
In the past, Mason Kane has lived a lavish lifestyle and has been called at times the Bad Boy of Wall Street, or the King of Wall Street. He has been romantically linked to a revolving door of actresses, pornographic film stars, models, pop singers, heiresses, as well as a bevy of other women, almost all of them young. Many hail him as the standard bearer of male chauvinism in an era of political correctness.
But with his increasingly hostile stance with his corporate officers, including but not limited to his recently married wife, many believe that Kane Price is headed toward a reckoning that will either settle this question once and for all or destroy the Firm in an implosion unseen since the bankruptcy of Lehman Brothers.
Only time will tell.
Becca
There has to be something here! I can tell there's something here underneath the surface.
This company is trying to hide something. You know that feeling you get when you can tell that something isn't right about a person or place, but you just can't spot it or put your finger on it?
Well, that's how I feel about Red Lion Aviation.
There just seems to be something that doesn't add up.
I mean, if Mason hadn't told me on his own like he did earlier, then I would have been researching them anyways. Half the company is making the case for Red Lion. The other half is making the case against them.
It's like Kane Price is fighting a civil war within its walls. On one side are people who are listening to Lorna, thinking they should go in and invest in the company for a very substantial stake.
On the other hand are people like Mason who are getting their sixth sense tingling when they see the reports on this company.
Don't get me wrong. There's nothing overtly wrong with them. On paper they seem to have solid fundamentals. They are turning a slight profit every quarter. They seem to be expanding. They don't have any major safety issues … recently, anyways.
But they just seem too....manufactured. Too shiny. As if there is a rottenness hiding inside.
Here is what I know so far, in case you wanted to Google them.
Red Lion Aviation is headquartered in Malaysia. They trade on the New York, Frankfurt, London, and NASDAQ stock exchanges.
They were founded ten years ago by an Indonesian oil tycoon and were based in Jakarta, Indonesia before moving their operations over to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.
They run flights between Sydney, Singapore, Bangkok, Jakarta, Bali, KL, and other cities in Southeast Asia.
An investment the size that Mom is talking about would significantly increase their reach and they would start offering flights into the lucrative US market.
Something like this would increase their revenues and profits maybe by about a thousand times, I think.
Just to put that into perspective, if you have a one billion dollar investment in this company, imagine multiplying that by a thousand.
That's right. If Mom is right, this investment could net Kane Price a cool one trillion dollars.
It's just incomprehensible this amount of money.
No wonder so many people in the Firm are making such a big deal about it.
But if something were to go wrong…
I'm shuddering at the implications at a one billion dollar bet that goes south.
Mason would get most of the blame. They'd probably have to eliminate several departments and have years of belt tightening. No salary increases. No bonuses. Cutbacks on benefits.
Investors would jump out of a lot of the Kane Price products. They'd think that the Firm was just poorly run, which means that the fund managers would have to sell positions and maybe even take losses. Which would be a death spiral as more and more people pull their money out.
You know what's ironic?
If Mason does this investment and takes Mom's advice, and it goes bad, then basically people are going to say that he doesn't have the right judgment to lead the Firm and they're going to try and expel him.
But if he doesn't do this investment, they're going to say the same thing.
I know what you're thinking, hun. You're not saying it, but I know you're wondering about it.
Why am I still around him, right?
I mean, even if you didn't think it, it probably crossed your mind at some point or another.
I mean, I'm smart. People tell me I'm pretty, but it's hard to tell some mornings, you know?
I'm funny, I hope.
What I'm trying to say is I could be a catch, I think.
I could make a guy happy.
So why am I hanging around a guy that's 16 years older than me, and technically married to my Mom? Why am I putting myself in the middle of a corporate boardroom fight that's involving billions of dollars and a global financial services giant? Why am I standing so close to a man that loves to play with fire?
It can't just be his cock, can it? It can't be the way he fucks me.
I mean, sure I like sex. I'm no virgin. I had a pretty active sex life in college. I had one even before I met Mason.
I don't apologize for that. If you're shaking your head or whatever, I mean, you can put the book down I guess.
Sex is supposed to be fun and supposed to be enjoyable. It's not supposed to be something you feel ashamed about. Or judged about. Or embarrassed about.
Sorry, hun, I'm not getting preachy or anything.
I guess I'm trying to tell myself it's okay that I'm technically fucking my stepdad.
There. I said it.
I might have said it before, but I'm saying it again.
I'm having sex with my stepdad. Hot, dirty, mind-altering, life-changing, dirty, filthy, nasty fucking with my stepdad. My stepfather. While he's married on paper to my mother.
God, I am so turned on right now.
I mean, it's hard not to let the situation turn you on.
Especially when the only thing competing for my attention are these dry facts and figures on a spreadsheet about Red Lion Aviation.
I pulled their mandatory required employee filings that they had to file with the Securities and Exchange Commission in order to be listed on the New York Stock Exchange.
I don't know why, okay?
I guess I'm just looking for something.
Anything.
But wow, it's so hard to focus when my brain's attention is split between Red Lion Aviation employee records and thinking about Mason's 12-inch, veiny, thick cock.
I mean, that thing is massive. I can't believe how good it feels when it gets hard in my hand and I'm serious when I tell you that when I see it I have this urge that's almost uncontrollable to put it in my mouth.
Like the warmth of the tip as I wrap my lips around it and feel it on the corners of my mouth is just amazing. And when he puts it inside of me...yeah, I'm pretty wet right now.
I glance at the clock on my computer. It's actually pretty late and a lot of the office has gone home for the night.
It might not be that dangerous to just pop into the restroom, go into a stall, and work this tension out.
Have a quick orgasm, calm down, focus on this and get it done. So then I can head home and maybe even call Mason to come over and fuck me for real.
I think that might be a good...
Wait.
Do you see that?
Right, you can't see my screen from where you are.
But, I think I just discovered something that might be the key. I look at my computer really quickly and then take a screenshot from the keyboard and mail the picture to my work email.
Five seconds later my tablet chimes, telling me that I have a new email.
Taking the tablet, I get up and start walking.
I get to the elevator and head to the 5th floor where Mason's office is.
Yeah, I work on the 18th floor. The executives all sit on the lower floors.
Oh right, that's something that doesn't make sense right? Let me explain it to you. It takes a bit to walk from the elevators as the doors open to get to Mason's office anyways.
See, it's really pretty simple. Back in the day, the more senior you were, the higher up in the building you sat. Better views. Less accessible to the common workers. All that old guard Wall Street stuff.
Then 9/11 happened. And all of a sudden you had executives making $150 million a year who were jumping from the 102nd floor while you had the lowly interns and mailroom clerks running to safety from the ground floor.
So Wall Street changed. Today, the closer you are to the ground is the higher up in the food chain you are. So you have the Board of Directors who have their offices on the 5th through 10th floors.
And then you have the Finance and Human Resources people sitting on the 60th floor, admiring the views.
Because Wall Street views them as more expendable than the executives.
It sucks, huh? Everything about this industry is based on how much value you have.
I mean, look at Mason's office.
He's got a bathroom and a shower in here I notice as I walk in. I make sure to close the door behind me. This conversation is not for public consumption.
He looks up at me.
"The door was open," I say, all of a sudden a bit nervous. Just because we have sex in private doesn't mean I should parade myself around in public like this. What if he was in a meeting?
But he seems genuinely interested to see me.
"What's up?" he says, leaning back in his leather chair.
I take a moment to look at the man.
Tall, fit, strong, muscular. Everything I could ever want.
Is it possible to fall in love with your stepdad?
He's at a solid oak desk, the kind where the front of the desk has a board going across the back so you can't actually see his feet or the space underneath the desk.
God, I must still be so horny from before because a part of me wants to forget about what's on the tablet and just crawl under and....
"Becca?" Mason asks, and I can see he's trying to be patient. But he's also had a long day. He's working. He's trying to stay one step ahead of his wife—my mother.
I walk over and hand him the tablet.
"This is a screenshot of people engaged by Red Lion Aviation in the last year," I tell him. "Look at the fifth name from the bottom."
He looks at the tablet and freezes.
Oh right. I forgot to tell you the name.
I'll tell you later, okay?
Because right now Mason's looking at me, and asking, "Where did you get this?"
I shrug. "Standard SEC filings," I tell him. "It's open to the public. You just gotta know where to look."
Mason shakes his head.
"I have four fucking VPs trying to find something...anything, and they've come up short," he says with disgust. "And you weren't even assigned to this."
"You just gotta know where to look," I say, trying not to blush at his offhanded compliment. "I have an ulterior motive."
"What's that?" Mason asks me with the beginnings of a smile.
I smile as I walk over.
"I want to see Daddy happy," I say with a mischievous smile of my own.
"Well, listen, Becca," Mason says to me. "Talk to my admin if you need to, but can you please keep digging on this path? Go explore this angle. I need someone that Lorna isn't going to keep tabs on and you're perfect."
He's asking me to work in secret.
For him. Against my own mother.
My vile, ruthless, lying, mother.
Yeah, I know, right? Tough choice.
"I only have one price," I say to him, my mind wandering back to earlier.
He sees the twinkle in my eyes.
"What's that?" he asks.
I take the last few steps toward him and sink to my knees.
Without another word, I push his chair out a little bit and position myself underneath the desk.
Wow, am I glad I had the foresight to close the door behind me.
Mason
She goes down to her knees and I lean back against my chair, allowing her to kneel under my desk. Placing her hands on my knees, she runs them up to my crotch, never taking her eyes off of mine.
“This is my price, Daddy dearest,” she whispers, a lewd smile adorning her lips. Fuck, this is the kind of price I’m more than willing to pay. My heart starts to race, pumping blood to my cock and hardening it. It doesn’t take long for all of my length to strain against the fabric of my pants, its thick shape bulging and aching to feel the touch of her fingers.
She moves slowly, running her fingers back and forth over my legs, but never actually reaching for my crotch. She’s teasing me, torturing me, and it’s fucking working. With each passing second my cock grows harder and harder, and the need to simply ram it inside of her mouth becomes almost too overwhelming.
When she finally goes for my cock, she does it with only one finger. She places it at the base of my bulging shape, brushes it all the way up to its tip, and then back down again. She repeats the motion over and over again, my cock pulsing against her fingers harshly.
“Patience,” she whispers, her smile turning into a wicked grin. Patience? Fuck, patience was never one of my virtues. I’m used to taking what I want, when I want it… But, somehow, it’s different with Becca. With her, I can wait; after all, the payoff is always worth it.
She places one more finger on my shaft, and keeps caressing it with these gentle motions. Then, finally feeling me ready for more, she takes her hands to my belt and unbuckles it. Once my belt is open, she pulls it out from its loops and lets it fall to the floor at my feet. She goes back to brushing her fingers over the hard shape of my cock, and I feel my mouth turning dry. The fucking anticipation is killing me.
Then, no warning whatsoever, she flattens the palm of her hand against my cock. She does it harshly, and I groan as I feel the pressure against my shaft. She takes her hand off of my crotch as fast as she pressed on it, her fingers flying to my waist. With slow deliberate movements, she starts pulling my zipper down and my cock starts to push its way out from its bindings. It brushes against the back of her hand, and that’s enough for me to close my eyes, my heart kicking against my chest.
Once she’s finally done, she presses her hand against my cock, over my boxer briefs. I groan, pleasure rushing through me like a drug. I place both of my hands on her head, running my fingers through her hair, but I allow her to keep her rhythm.
Brushing her fingers up and down my cock, she finally leans into me, tilting her head sideways and resting her lips against my shaft. The fabric of my boxer briefs remains between us, but the pressure of her mouth is enough to send a shiver up my spine. She knows what she’s doing, that much is for sure.
“You’re driving me fuckin’ crazy, baby girl,” I whisper, throwing my head back and sighing.
“I know,” she tells me deviously, once again pressing the palm of her hand against my shaft. She presses harder this time, and my cock pulses violently again
st her fingers. As a response, she hooks her fingers on my boxer briefs and, moving with a maddening slowness, she starts to pull them down. My cock springs free at once, forcing her to simply tug on my boxers, and I have to take a deep breath. Fuck, she’s barely touching me and I’m already as hard as I’ve ever been.
“I love your cock,” she purrs, brushing one fingertip from the root to my glans. “It’s so big… So thick…” she continues, softly moving her finger up and down my length. “I can’t get enough of it.”
I open my mouth to say something, but the words die in my throat as she leans into me again, her tongue parting her lips and touching my glans. I close my eyes, feeling a high voltage current making its way up my spine and electrifying my brain.
Running her tongue in slow soft circles around the tip of my cock, she finally curls her fingers around its root. Fuck, I’m struggling right now; my body is begging for me to simply ram my cock inside of her tight little mouth, but somehow, I manage to resist the urge. She’s putting on a show for me, and I have to let her do it.
Instead of parting her lips and resting them against my glans, she tilts her head to the side and, still only using the tip of her tongue, she runs it all the way to the base of my cock. A shiver goes up my spine as she moves her tongue like a pendulum, running it up and down the whole length of my cock. She does it a couple of times and then, finally, she wraps her lips around my glans; sucking on it eagerly, she takes the whole tip inside of her mouth and peels her lips back. She repeats that motion until I tangle my fingers in her hair, fighting against the urge to take control.
“You want my tight mouth, don’t you?” she purrs again, looking up at me and flicking her tongue against my glans. “You want to fuck my little mouth, I know it,” she continues, the sweet sound of her voice driving me fucking crazy.
“I do,” I whisper and, as a response, she wraps her lips around my glans once more. As I look down at her, I feel my whole body tensing up at the sight; she has her mouth open wide, her lips tightly hugging the tip of my cock, and that somehow makes her look even more beautiful than she is.
