Her Billionaire's Erotic Rules (#2 The Mansion): Erotica (Erotic Sex Stories) by Anjah Cavalli Page B
Authors: Anjah Cavalli
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laughed and repeated my order and a long, elegant glass appeared,
with just a minimum of foam on top. He resumed his place with other servers
gathered at a long table bedecked with serving trays. T. G. leaned over and
told me he’d join me whenever I cared to get something to eat.
“Good girl,” Neville exclaimed.
We all clinked glasses and sipped our drinks. For the next ten minutes,
Neville kept up a steady flow of jokes and wise cracks and it was easy to see
why T. G. enjoyed his company. He, too, was a successful businessman,
beginning as a music promoter. In the course of his tales, it seemed that he’d
dabbled in just about everything. As enjoyable as his company was, though, I
couldn’t help but think that I preferred T. G.’s quiet reserve to the raucous
repartee of the Aussie.
“I met Simone during a photo shoot
for one of our ad campaigns. Couldn’t let her go without plying my charm. Be
damned if it didn’t work! I mean, look at her face. Those cheekbones! Of
course, what really sold me was her posing in a swimsuit. Those breasts! Come
on, Simone. Show them what I’m talking about.”
Simone looked down demurely,
smiling. Looking up, her eyes flashed and she asked, “Would you really like to
see them? I’m tipsy enough, you know.” We all laughed and encouraged her to
show us. She stood up and walked over to T. G. She undid the dress straps and
bent forward, her round, dark breasts spilling out into her hands. We made
admiring sounds and she stepped over to give me a closer look. “Go ahead and
touch them, Rachel. They are 100% real. Go on.”
I felt a little awkward, but we
were all getting loose and I didn’t want to put a damper on the fun. I placed
my hands under her breasts and squeezed them slightly, like examining produce.
They were soft yet heavier than I expected. “They’re very nice,” I said. “I’m
jealous.” Which was partly true, as I’m somewhat bereft in that area.
“That’s lovely,” Neville said
wistfully, his face resting on his hand, enjoying the vision before him.
T. G. cleared his throat and
looked at me. “I happen to think that your breasts are perfect.” Simone
gathered her boobies, nestled them back in her dress and walked to her seat.
“And she has what may be the world’s most perfectly shaped ass.”
I blushed. “Do tell!” Neville
exclaimed. “That’s a bold statement. Well, come on, darling, let’s all have a
look. Put up or shut up.” I didn’t know how to react to this. Simone clapped
her hands and said, “Yes, yes, show us your perfect ass, Rachel!”
I stood and took a gulp of my
beer. I was feeling the effect of the beer and the gin and tonics, but I also
found the naughtiness of our little gathering intoxicating as well. I was
wearing jeans that fit me like a second skin, topped with a checked cotton
blouse. I turned with my back to them and bent slightly, shaking my tail
feather provocatively. They clapped and hooted, and their response helped buoy
my ego somewhat. I sat down.
“Oy, that’s not fair, Rachel,”
Neville protested. “Simone bared her tits and you’ve only showed us your
pants. Come on now, fair’s fair!”
“He’s got a point, Rachel,” T. G.
chided. “Go on; show them your bare backside.”
“Maybe later,” I blushed. “I’m
not drunk enough yet.” Moans of disappointment greeted my decision, but I held
firm. I glanced at T. G. and saw that he was no longer smiling. In fact,
there was an unmistakable expression of annoyance. He stood up and suggested
that everyone get something to eat. “We’ll need to fortify our bodies for the
night ahead. Rachel, would you like to see the stable? I’d like to show it to
you before it gets too dark.”
“Sure,” I responded. I wanted to
diffuse any tension between us by being completely agreeable. He
with just a minimum of foam on top. He resumed his place with other servers
gathered at a long table bedecked with serving trays. T. G. leaned over and
told me he’d join me whenever I cared to get something to eat.
“Good girl,” Neville exclaimed.
We all clinked glasses and sipped our drinks. For the next ten minutes,
Neville kept up a steady flow of jokes and wise cracks and it was easy to see
why T. G. enjoyed his company. He, too, was a successful businessman,
beginning as a music promoter. In the course of his tales, it seemed that he’d
dabbled in just about everything. As enjoyable as his company was, though, I
couldn’t help but think that I preferred T. G.’s quiet reserve to the raucous
repartee of the Aussie.
“I met Simone during a photo shoot
for one of our ad campaigns. Couldn’t let her go without plying my charm. Be
damned if it didn’t work! I mean, look at her face. Those cheekbones! Of
course, what really sold me was her posing in a swimsuit. Those breasts! Come
on, Simone. Show them what I’m talking about.”
Simone looked down demurely,
smiling. Looking up, her eyes flashed and she asked, “Would you really like to
see them? I’m tipsy enough, you know.” We all laughed and encouraged her to
show us. She stood up and walked over to T. G. She undid the dress straps and
bent forward, her round, dark breasts spilling out into her hands. We made
admiring sounds and she stepped over to give me a closer look. “Go ahead and
touch them, Rachel. They are 100% real. Go on.”
I felt a little awkward, but we
were all getting loose and I didn’t want to put a damper on the fun. I placed
my hands under her breasts and squeezed them slightly, like examining produce.
They were soft yet heavier than I expected. “They’re very nice,” I said. “I’m
jealous.” Which was partly true, as I’m somewhat bereft in that area.
“That’s lovely,” Neville said
wistfully, his face resting on his hand, enjoying the vision before him.
T. G. cleared his throat and
looked at me. “I happen to think that your breasts are perfect.” Simone
gathered her boobies, nestled them back in her dress and walked to her seat.
“And she has what may be the world’s most perfectly shaped ass.”
I blushed. “Do tell!” Neville
exclaimed. “That’s a bold statement. Well, come on, darling, let’s all have a
look. Put up or shut up.” I didn’t know how to react to this. Simone clapped
her hands and said, “Yes, yes, show us your perfect ass, Rachel!”
I stood and took a gulp of my
beer. I was feeling the effect of the beer and the gin and tonics, but I also
found the naughtiness of our little gathering intoxicating as well. I was
wearing jeans that fit me like a second skin, topped with a checked cotton
blouse. I turned with my back to them and bent slightly, shaking my tail
feather provocatively. They clapped and hooted, and their response helped buoy
my ego somewhat. I sat down.
“Oy, that’s not fair, Rachel,”
Neville protested. “Simone bared her tits and you’ve only showed us your
pants. Come on now, fair’s fair!”
“He’s got a point, Rachel,” T. G.
chided. “Go on; show them your bare backside.”
“Maybe later,” I blushed. “I’m
not drunk enough yet.” Moans of disappointment greeted my decision, but I held
firm. I glanced at T. G. and saw that he was no longer smiling. In fact,
there was an unmistakable expression of annoyance. He stood up and suggested
that everyone get something to eat. “We’ll need to fortify our bodies for the
night ahead. Rachel, would you like to see the stable? I’d like to show it to
you before it gets too dark.”
“Sure,” I responded. I wanted to
diffuse any tension between us by being completely agreeable. He
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