Tom Billionaire
Chapter 5: Malibu

Copyright© 2010 by bluedragon

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 5: Malibu - Fourth Book in the John Billionaire Series. The story of one Tom Eriksen, a wealthy billionaire who has suffered great tragedy despite his financial success. Abandoned by those he loves and shunning those that still care about him, he sets off to drown his sorrows in a sea of sexual excess and hedonistic pleasure. But some old friends will remind him who he really is.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   NonConsensual   Rape   Drunk/Drugged   Group Sex   Orgy   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Cream Pie   Big Breasts   Violence  

-- JUNE, MANHATTAN, NEW YORK --

I'd come back to America for a reason, and that reason was to put my old life back together. I knew I wasn't ready to see Taylor just yet, so a trip to Malibu would have to wait a little while. In the meantime, reconnecting with Ashlyn and Joey was priority number one.

At the same time, I didn't want to bring Evania and Vivienne with me to Ashlyn's place, knowing that the presence of my new girls would only complicate matters and prevent me from getting the quality time needed to rebuild my relationships with my daughter and ex-girlfriend. But I couldn't leave the girls to fend for themselves in a strange city, not yet, and I couldn't ask Kaitlyn to keep skipping work to escort them around town.

So I worked out a little arrangement with Ashlyn. I told her I didn't want to push her into anything she wasn't ready for, and that I didn't want to take up all of her time. I just wanted to visit Joey and get the chance to talk to her for an hour or so, and she agreed to let me visit in the morning and see how things went.

For the next two days, I left the girls in the apartment after breakfast, telling them to do some internet research or just relax. I took a cab over to the 5th Avenue Penthouse, played with my little girl, and got myself caught up on all the latest things going on in Ashlyn's life. We chatted casually, although I could feel an underlying tension between us. I didn't want to scare her off with proclamations that I still loved her and wanted to get back together. And she didn't bring up any more complaints about me abandoning her by disappearing for three months.

After those two days of visits, the good news was that Joey was getting more and more at ease around me. She remembered her daddy, and although the innate trust wasn't back to where it had once been, my little girl wasn't afraid to play with me.

The bad news was that I wasn't getting anywhere with Ashlyn. Rather than help us reconnect and remember how comfortable we were together, my visits only made the tension grow between us. She was repressing something when I was around her, and at the end of the second visit, she asked me to stop coming over for a little while.

"I need more time," she said apologetically. "Time to sort out how I feel about you."

"Three months wasn't enough?" I tried to joke.

"Those three months are the problem," Ashlyn snapped, looking frustrated. She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned against the doorjamb. "I'm sorry, but there's a lot of resentment I've built up that I have to get over."

"I know ... I'm sorry."

"Stop saying you're sorry."

"But I am."

"It doesn't change anything." She shook her head. "You left. You're back. I've got to deal with it."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Give me time, okay?" she looked at me pleadingly. "I won't keep you away from Joey. She's your daughter, and she needs to know her father. But ... don't come visit tomorrow, okay? Maybe not the day after, either. I've got a shoot in the morning, anyways."

I grimaced but nodded. "I'll call you?"

Ashlyn shook her head. "I'll call you."

"When?"

She looked away, staring at nothing. Her jaw clenched, and I saw creases forming at the corners of her eyes. But eventually, she sighed and shook her head. "I ... I don't know."

I returned back to my apartment, feeling glum. Fortunately for me, Vivienne and Evania were only too happy to try and cheer me up.


Other than those morning trips to visit Joey and Ashlyn, the first couple of days were spent taking my girls sightseeing. We didn't have jobs, nor any plans to find jobs. The weather was fantastic. Crowds were lighter because it was still mid- week. And leaving the girls behind to research what they wanted to do ensured that I would have a full itinerary for the rest of the day.

It was a good thing I was kept so busy. Bouncing all over New York kept me from thinking too much about how my efforts to reunite with Ashlyn were going absolutely nowhere.

We visited the Empire State Building and took photos from the Observation Deck (Vivienne insisted that the third level of the Eiffel Tower still had a better view). We also went to MOMA and the American Museum of Natural History (Vivienne was confused that the interior didn't look anything like the Ben Stiller movie). And feeling nostalgic for my old style of traveling, I paid for a helicopter tour of the city.

But the day after Ashlyn told me to stop visiting, I took the girls down to Wall Street again. They were both curious about Jonathan Kwong and JKE, and when we got out of the cab, both girls just gasped at the sight of the massive tower with my name in big, bold letters over the grand entrance.

"You really own the entire building?" Evania gasped. It wasn't like she didn't know I was wealthy. But while she was used to private yachts and large mansions, 50-floor skyscrapers were something else altogether.

"The building, yes," I nodded. "But my company actually occupies only the top two floors. The rest is leased out to other businesses."

"Can we go inside?" Vivienne asked, wide-eyed and staring upwards.

I winced and shook my head, turning my back to the building. "Not a good idea. Someone in there is bound to recognize me."

Evania nodded her understanding, and then looked significantly behind me. "Almost certainly. There is someone that I recognize."

I turned around immediately and saw a tall blonde exiting the double doors and turning left down the street. I didn't catch a glimpse of her face, but then I didn't need to. There was no doubt in my mind that it was Cassandra. It was in the way she walked. It was in the look of her hair. It was her entire being. It was my Cassandra.

Plus, Fat Tony was by her side. Part of building security, Fat Tony was 6'3", 300 pounds, and very good with a handgun. My family rarely brought security with us from the mansion to Manhattan. A guard would just get in our way during the helicopter flights. But upon arrival, anyone leaving the building would always have a bodyguard travel with them, even if it was just Taylor doing some shopping. It was a rule we'd been forced to implement after Sharpley stole all those billions, and there had been some concern of reprisal when we started getting it all back. And Tony was Cassandra's regular guard.

As I checked my watch, I already knew where they were headed. It was 11:30am, and Cassandra always liked to get lunch a little early to beat the crowds. So without even waiting for my girls, I set off down the sidewalk.

"Tohm? Where are you going?" Vivienne asked, hustling up to me.

Evania was beside her, already explaining. But less than a block later, my valet caught my hand and tugged me to a stop. "Sir, are you sure you want to see her? You told me there would be a risk of discovery if you and Miss Cooper were seen in public together."

She was right, of course. Tony would undoubtedly recognize me, and although I trusted the man could keep a secret, it wasn't a risk worth taking. I looked up the street, easily able to see the six-foot blonde and her hulking bodyguard despite the busy sidewalks. And after taking a deep breath, I nodded my head. "It is a risk," I agreed. "But I just want to see her, okay?"

Evania and Vivienne looked at each other for a moment, but said nothing. I'd always been in charge of this little adventure, and it wasn't their place to argue. So I set off again, knowing exactly where Cassandra was headed even if I lost them.

Sure enough, she and Fat Tony stopped in front of our favorite restaurant, Bobby Van's on Broad Street. Unlike Taylor or Ashlyn, who both ate like very small birds, Cassandra was a meat and potatoes kind of girl. We both enjoyed our steaks, even for lunch. And the clientele at Bobby Van's were well-heeled enough to not bother us even if they recognized us. Fat Tony would sure appreciate the food as well.

But they wouldn't be dining alone. A moment after Cassandra stopped, turning around enough to finally let me get a glimpse of her exquisite face, another man immediately walked up to her. Without preamble, he opened his arms and the two of them hugged warmly, with Cassandra even leaning over to peck his cheek. And as my blood started to boil at the idea of MY Cassandra embracing some strange man I didn't know, I finally recognized the newcomer.

Barry???

Special Agent Farnsworth stepped back and smiled at my assistant. My girls and I were half a block away, but I could see him say something that made Cassandra chuckle. A moment later, she gestured to the restaurant. Farnsworth crooked his elbow, Cassandra slipped her arm into it, and the three of them went inside.

I trusted Cassandra. She'd been my right hand for years and years. When I'd disappeared, she'd diligently gone hunting for me, so I knew that she cared. I knew that she would never... ever ... cheat on me, even if I wasn't with her to be cheated on.

But then why was she having lunch with Farnsworth?

Unable to shake the niggling of doubt in my mind, I flipped open my cell phone and held down a speed-dial. Evania looked at me curiously, while Vivienne just seemed impatient. But two rings later, Cassandra picked up the other end of the line.

"Jon- ... hello?"

"It's me."

"I know," she replied before I heard a rustle. "Excuse me," she said faintly, as if talking to someone else. And then I heard the clacking sounds of her heels on hardwood as she apparently moved somewhere to get more privacy.

"I nearly said your name and blew everything. Is everything alright?" she asked me.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I just wanted to check in on you. It's been a few days now, and the last thing I want to do is make you worry about me."

"Thank you," she said with obvious relief. "I have been worrying, but Evania has been keeping me informed."

"She has?" I turned and shot my valet a look. Evania looked a little taken aback at my expression.

"Don't be angry with her. I asked her to."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. I really shouldn't have expected anything less. "Anyways, I wanted to know how you're doing. Where are you right now? It doesn't sound like the office in the background."

"Oh, I'm at Bobby Van's," Cassandra informed me.

"Alone?"

"Of course not. Fat Tony is here to keep me company. He's always eager to finish my steaks if I don't," Cassandra laughed.

I smiled thinly. Just Fat Tony? Was there a reason she hadn't mentioned Farnsworth? I wanted to trust her, but why would she keep that from me? Just what the fuck was going on?

But just as my blood started to heat up again, Cassandra was continuing. "And I'm meeting with Agent Farnsworth as well. After a few months with no news, there's been some new activity on the investigation. Barry offered to come to the office, but I decided I'd treat him to some lunch. After all the money they've recovered for us, I figure he deserves a good meal."

Ahhhhh... I sighed contentedly, relaxing quite a bit at her honesty. I KNEW I could trust Cassandra, right? "That's good," I replied. "It's the least we can do. What's the news?"

"Oh, I don't know just yet. We were just sitting down and I haven't even ordered yet. I'll call you when this is through, okay?"

"Sounds good. I'll talk to you later."

"You will. And thanks for calling, Jonathan. I've really missed you."

I sighed, looking over at the restaurant. I rather missed the place, and I wondered if I could ever go back there again.

Then again, I really missed the company. Cassandra and I had shared hundreds of meals over the years at that place. And I wondered if I could go anywhere with her ever again.

"I miss you too."


It was Friday when I realized I had absolutely nothing to do. Sure, I could've just stayed in and fucked all day, but Evania, Vivienne, and I had already engaged in torrid morning threesome that pulled three cumloads out of me, and it was only 10am.

My priority was still to reconnect with Joey and Ashlyn. My ex-girlfriend's two-day moratorium on visits had passed, but she had not called me to tell me it would be alright to come by the penthouse. I briefly considered calling her, but thought better of it. She knew I was out here, wanting to visit. I knew that she'd told me not to call. And for now, at least, I'd best not ruin things by breaking her one and only request to give her some time.

The girls and I had done the sightseeing things that we really wanted to do around New York. Museums had been toured and monuments had been visited. Various international cuisines had been sampled, ranging from hard-to-find delicacies to common hot dogs from pushcart vendors. And of course, there had been sex ... a LOT of sex.

We'd spent some time with Jeff and Kaitlyn. My friends were only too happy to entertain us, to chat, and of course, to have even more sex.

But now Jeff and Kaitlyn were at work, and I was at a loss for what to do. I could sit around, pining after my ex-girlfriend and wondering what my baby girl was doing. But that wasn't very appealing. I was used to keeping busy, keeping myself distracted, and I was running out of distractions.

So I decided it was time for my girls and me to keep exploring America. We'd spent enough time in New York, and there was a lot more country to see.

"Anywhere?" Vivienne asked me with bright eyes when I told her my plan.

"Anywhere," I confirmed. "For one week. Then we're coming back here."

"What if your girlfriend calls you and says you can visit again?" Evania asked, ever practical.

"Then I'll fly back," I answered. "She could call tomorrow. It could be next week. I don't know. Money is no object, here. Make travel arrangements, but keep things flexible, okay? I want to keep a relatively low profile, so no private jet. We'll fly domestic first class, rent cars, take taxis, whatever. Okay?"

The girls just looked at each other with big smiles. And as one, they turned and answered, "Okay!"

Evania had already been spending a lot of her free time doing research online, her old European Travel Agent-type habits surfacing. So it was an easy matter for her to start putting together an itinerary, of course with a lot of Vivienne's input.

Once Evania had a first draft, she ran it by me. It was pretty action-packed, and though anywhere is within reach when you're flying, she was trying to have us cover almost the entire country in seven days.

"Let's scale it back for now, and take our time," I told her. "This won't be our only opportunity to visit these places. I promise you there will be other trips."

She nodded and worked to cut things down. I felt a hitch in my throat when I realized the girls wanted to see Mount Rushmore of all places. I still remembered how Ashlyn had joked about taking a photo of her, Taylor, and me having a threesome in front of those big heads. I wasn't sure I could actually go there without thinking of them, but fortunately, Evania crossed it off the list as there wasn't much else to do in South Dakota.

In the meantime, I settled myself in front of the TV, zoning out to whatever entertainment presented itself. I channel-surfed for a bit until a listing in the guide caught my attention. And despite the warning note in the back of my head telling me it was a bad idea, I found myself pressing the button to switch over to the afternoon edition of Celebrity Sightings.

I should have listened to the warning note.

The photo on the screen was of Ashlyn. There was no mistaking that gorgeous face, the copper-red hair, or the killer body artfully covered by a smoking hot green dress. There was also no mistaking that she was holding hands with a dashing young man, dressed in a fine Armani suit with a six-o'clock shadow making his already square jaw look even more masculine.

I must have missed quite a bit during my time away, because the breathy young reporter was going on about how Ashlyn had been seen on several occasions with one Nicolas Petrov, a Russian hockey player for the New York Islanders.

And then came the dagger. There was video of Ashlyn carrying Joey in her arms as they shopped at some boutique downtown. Charlotte and Evelyn were both in the background. And some paparazzi burst in front of them, asking, "What is your relationship to Nicolas?"

"We're just friends," Ashlyn replied dismissively, hiding behind her dark sunglasses and turning away and into the store, where the cameras wouldn't be able to follow.

But just before she entered, the same paparazzi asked, "And what can you say to the rumors that John Kwong has come back to New York?"

I expected Ashlyn to ignore the question and just go inside. But then they probably wouldn't have been showing this clip. And sure enough, she stopped right in front of the door and turned around. The camera quickly zoomed in on my ex-girlfriend's face.

"John Kwong is his own man, who can come and go whenever he wants," Ashlyn said tiredly. "He's moved on ... And so have I."

The clip ended and the screen returned to the talking head. I tuned the reporter out and sagged against the couch's backrest, my jaw in my lap.

Just then, Evania came into the bedroom, holding her laptop with a brand new itinerary draft for our impromptu trip.

"Just one question," she began. "When do you want to leave?"

Still gaping at the TV, I shook my head sadly and sighed. "As soon as possible."


-- JUNE (ONE WEEK LATER), NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA --

"Mmm ... How about... her?"

I set my wine glass down and leaned further back into my chair. Discreetly, I turned my head to look in the direction Vivienne's eyes had rolled. And with a bit of surprise, I raised my eyebrows. "Hmm. The waitress?"

Vivienne nodded, a hint of a smile on her face.

I glanced back over to the woman in question, letting my mind percolate with the possibilities. We were at Arnaud's, in the French Quarter. After a day spent watching the craziness on Bourbon Street, we'd retired to this more upscale establishment for dinner. It was a formal place, meaning I had to wear a jacket at the ladies were in nice dresses. It also meant that the waitress was more refined than the typical college-aged kids waiting tables in town, but she was still young and quite pretty, late-20s if I had to guess.

I knew why Vivienne had chosen her. The waitress was a busty redhead, and even I could tell she bore a slight resemblance to Aveline, Vivienne's best friend back in France. And as I looked over at the slender, attractive woman in the rather sexy black and white uniform, I recalled some of my fondest memories with the Three 'V's on the yacht.

"It's a little early to go girl-hunting, isn't it?" I asked quietly. Today was the seventh day of our impromptu trip across America. It wasn't the first time we'd picked up a strange girl in a new city, but we'd usually found them later in the evening at a bar or other spot for nightlife.

"But I want her," Vivienne stated insistently.

"You think you can get her?"

Vivienne nodded confidently. "She likes women."

I furrowed my eyebrows and frowned. The waitress in question was not ours, was clear across the room, and had not even spoken to us. "How can you tell?"

Vivienne smiled enigmatically and glanced over at Evania. My Greek valet nodded to me and touched her nose with a twinkle in her eye. "A woman knows," Evania stated knowingly.

I shrugged and smiled, nodding my head fractionally. Vivienne immediately folded her linen napkin, placed in on the table, and got up. Formally, I stood as well as she left. And then I watched her make her way toward the restrooms, a sway in her hips as she glanced over to the waitress across the room.

I don't know how Vivienne did it, but immediately after pouring her customer's wine, the waitress turned and headed back in the same direction. I got the distinct impression she was following my girlfriend. So shaking my head in amused disbelief, I sat back down and picked up my glass of wine.

After the shitty first week in New York, the past several days had been glorious.

Six days ago, we took the Acela Express train to Washington, D.C. The girls mugged for the camera around all the monuments, and we took in a play as well. More entertainment was found with a high-powered Congressman's aide, who was over-stressed and underappreciated in an upscale bar in Georgetown. We spent the weekend with Carina, who found both her inner dominatrix with Evania and her inner sub with me. I just knew that Washington was probably the kinkiest city I'd ever been in.

We then flew to Memphis, Tennessee. It had been one of my first suggestions to leave off the itinerary back when we were putting together this trip. But the girls had absolutely insisted on it. They just HAD to visit Graceland, as for some strange reason, both of them were really big Elvis fans. We also found a few bars playing live country music. Evania wanted to get pounded by an American cowboy, and after finding the right one, she made him keep his hat on while he did just that. I didn't mind, since we also brought home said cowboy's Southern Belle girlfriend, and I got to pound her. We even spent a night on Tommie Joe's houseboat, where the five of us brought new meaning to the phrase "rocking the boat". A few days later, Evania boarded our plane wearing Tommie Joe's cowboy hat, and I boarded with Sally Mae's panties in my pocket.

And now we were in New Orleans. We had two nights here before flying back to New York, and I intended to enjoy every minute of it. Heck, I intended to enjoy every day of my life, period. And when Vivienne returned to the table, I was pretty sure we were well on our way to that goal.

"Ahem, your lipstick is a little ... ah..." I glanced at my girlfriend, miming at the corner of my mouth.

Vivienne's eyes popped, and she quickly retrieved a compact from her purse. Staring into the little mirror, she dipped her napkin into her water and then wiped clean the mussed up lipstick, which was a much darker shade of red than her own.

Once she'd cleaned up, my French babe put away the compact and then smiled bashfully at me. She giggled and then reached for her wine glass, stating demurely, "She gets off at 11. And you will love this, Tohm..."

Vivienne paused to take a sip from her glass, leaving the end of her sentence hanging. I held my breath for a few seconds, eagerly waiting for her to finish. And then with a grin, she set the glass back down and said, "Her name is Virginie."


Virginie got off at 11, and then she "got off" at 11:20 ... and again at 11:26 ... and then again at 11:40.

The 11:20 and :26 were with Vivienne's tongue in her twat. The 11:40 was with my cock ramming her pretty pussy and HER tongue in Vivienne's twat. And I know the buxom waitress got off many, many more times after that. But by then, I wasn't paying any attention to the clock.

As for me, I got off three times that night, once with each of my three 'V's for the evening:

After pounding Virginie's pussy while she lay flat on her back with Evania sitting on her face and Vivienne sucking Evania's tits, I pulled out and crammed my cock into Evania's mouth just in time for her to swallow my spending.

After lining up all three 'V's across the bed doggy-style, I played the always fun game of pussy roulette. Virginie won.

And just to complete the trifecta, Vivienne lubed herself up and let me plug up her ass. But that was only after the four of us crawled all over each other on the bed, fingering and fucking and sucking in a messy tangle of flesh for a good twenty minutes.

It had been a good trip.


-- MANHATTAN, NEW YORK --

I lay in bed, propped upright against the headboard while idly watching TV. As much as I loved being in the bedroom, as so many wonderful activities took place in such a place, I would have preferred to be out in the living room. The couch was a more comfortable place to be for channel surfing, and the TV out there was bigger.

But we'd just returned to our Manhattan apartment this afternoon. We already had a standing invitation for Jeff and Kaitlyn to come over for dinner after they got off work. And Vivienne just HAD to try out this new French-Cajun recipe that Virginie had taught her yesterday.

Evania, of course, was right by Vivienne's side as a sous chef. That left me all alone, devoid of companionship, so I'd wandered into the kitchen and offered to help out as well.

Big mistake.

If there was one thing I absolutely couldn't do, it was cook. As a bachelor living on my own, my fridge had been stocked with frozen pizzas and take out menus stuck to the door with magnets. It was that inability to do anything more than boil water that had led me to meet Nicole Gellar, a long time ago in another life, when I was having Chinese food delivered up.

Anyways, the point is that Vivienne had asked me for some cooking utensil, in French since she didn't know the word for it in English, and I was NOT following at all. One miscommunication led to two, and then my girlfriend simply banished me from not only the kitchen, but the main room entirely. "Go to your room!" she'd commanded.

Sighing and apologetic for not being able to help, I obeyed. And that's how I ended up sitting in bed while killing time flipping channels.

I must have lost track of the time. The next thing I knew, there was a knock at the door quickly followed by it swinging open. And then a familiar blonde head poked through.

"Hiya, John." Kaitlyn beamed at me.

"Hiya, kitten," I replied, sitting up straight and turning off the television. "You guys just arrive?"

"Uh-huh," the slender but stacked blonde replied, moving into the room and kicking the door closed behind her. She moved quickly, unbuttoning the gray vest she wore over a pale yellow blouse. "Jeff's helping the girls put the finishing touches on dinner."

"You're not helping?" I asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Nuh-uh," she shook her head quickly, her green eyes sparkling. "Vivienne felt bad for ordering you away. She sent me in here to make it up to you."

"Did she now?"

"Uh-huh," Kaitlyn answered with a giggle. The vest was off, and now her nimble fingers were working the blouse. "I've missed you this last week."

"Come now. I know your boyfriend takes care of you very well."

"Oh, he does. And Skip and Lily visited two days ago." She pulled the blouse open, revealing a white lace bra that did much to present Kaitlyn's big tits for maximum viewing pleasure, making them look even bigger on her skinny frame. "But a part of me will always love being with you."


A part of me would always love being with her. The first time I ever pinned Kaitlyn down and reamed out her skinny body had been one of the greatest fucks of my life. And each encounter since then had been just as much fun.

The pair of us romped around the bed, clutching at each other's bodies as we exchanged sloppy, wet kisses. My iron-hard cock dug into her side as I pawed at her big tits. She turned and left a wet streak of her arousal on my thigh as she clambered over me to rub herself against my hip bone. Blonde hair was flying everywhere, and the room was filled with the sounds of both of us laughing.

Eventually, we managed to straighten ourselves out enough to get to the fucking. I lay across my bed sideways, my head hanging off the edge while she planted her hands on my belly and elevated herself above my cock. We both groaned as she descended around me, and almost immediately we were urgently humping like animals in heat.

For a while, I just lay my head over the edge and enjoyed the feeling of her tight snatch sliding up and down my pole while she scratched her fingernails against my chest. But my neck started getting sore, so I scrabbled at the mattress to sort of angle myself until the back of my head was safely perched on top of the bed again.

Kaitlyn leaned over me with her blonde hair hanging down in my face and tickling my chin. Laughing, I batted it away and then grabbed her sides, moving her just a bit higher so that those big swaying tits were swaying into my face. I latched onto a swollen nipple and suckled happily while she crooned her enjoyment above me. "Suck me, baby. Suck me."

At some point, she started feeling ticklish, and her giggle spasms plus her still gyrating body made it almost impossible to maintain my liplock. So I growled and rolled us over. My cock became dislodged as we did so. But she immediately spread her knees to the sides and urgently gestured me back. I centered my cock and then slammed forward with every ounce of force I could muster, and she both grunted and groaned ecstatically as we took up the fucking rhythm once again.

 
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