Too Much Love - Cover

Too Much Love

Copyright© 2017 by Tom Frost

Chapter 1

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Nick Coyle grew up not knowing about the billion-dollar legacy waiting for him on his eighteenth birthday. Money isn’t Nick’s only legacy, though. A dark history of excess and tragedy hang over both sides of his family. With the world suddenly offering him too much of everything and only five close friends to guide him, will Nick survive?

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Fa/ft   Mult   Consensual   Drunk/Drugged   Reluctant   Romantic   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Fiction   Rags To Riches   Tear Jerker   Sharing   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Light Bond   Rough   Sadistic   Spanking   Group Sex   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   Swinging   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Sex Toys   Big Breasts   Size   Caution   Nudism   Politics   Prostitution   Royalty   Slow  

ChewieInTheCenter: Pilar Rodriguez is a Stone Fox!

Connie probably should have made the connection sooner, but it wasn’t until she emerged from the six train station onto the corner of Bleecker and Mulberry Street that she realized she’d been in the building where they were going to be shooting Lingerie Models Play Dungeons and Dragons with a Billionaire many times before. But, it had been nearly twenty years and she wasn’t sure she’d ever come here on her own and under her own power.

The building at the corner of Bleecker and Lafayette Streets looked different than she remembered it. Gone were the cramped, little stores that had always been closed by the time the party moved here. Gone were the banners for the anti-war organization that had been on the second floor more or less rent-free since the sixties. The whole building looked denuded - stripped of all its character. The first floor had been combined into an unbroken wall of floor-to-ceiling windows with only a big double door to break up the sameness. Inside, construction workers were building partitions and assembling furniture.

With its old tenants, it had looked like a throwback to an earlier era in the city’s history. Now, it looked like a bank was being born.

As she approached the front door, she spotted Pilar Rodriguez-Stone coming up Bleecker Street, dressed in a black tracksuit, her hair tied back in a ponytail. She looked like she’d just come from the gym, the heavy duffel bag at her side completing the look. Connie waved and waited for the younger model to catch up.

She’d been surprised to see Pilar’s name on the call sheet Anthony and Gary had sent her. For that matter, she’d been surprised to come back from a shoot on St. Tropez and have Anthony and Gary present her with a contract as a fait accompli. While her partners technically had the authority, they were accountants, not modeling agents.

“How does it look?” Pilar looked up at the building.

“I just got here. I haven’t been inside yet.” The schedule gave a one-hour window for the models to arrive. Pilar, ever the consummate professional, had arrived at exactly the beginning of that window. “I was surprised to see your name on the call sheet. I thought you primarily worked for Jazz.”

“Primarily, but not exclusively.” Pilar looked towards the building again. “Should we talk inside?”

“Before we do, I wanted to ask what the guys told you about this shoot? I’ve gone over the contract, but I was out of the loop when they were putting it all together.”

“It’s a video shoot - full day with a half day tomorrow to do promos, do your own makeup, dress attractive-casual whatever that means.” Pilar counted the points off on her fingers. “Structured, unscripted comedy with a couple of surprises. I thought it sounded like a porn come-on. But, I checked out the production company. They seem legit - hundreds of YouTube videos with millions of hits each - music video parodies and stuff with kittens. What’s your concern?”

“Did Gary or Anthony tell you who the producer is?”

“If they did, I don’t remember it.” Pilar held up a hand. “Before you tell me anything, I will remind you that I am a terrible actress. If it’s part of the surprise and I’m supposed to act surprised, you might not want to tell me ... unless you think something bad might happen because I don’t know.”

Connie considered the possibilities, then shook her head. “No. All right. Just ... you should try to get along with everybody involved in today’s shoot. Just ... treat everybody like another model.”

Pilar smirked. “Get along with everybody and treat them as fellow models? Connie, you’re going to have to choose one or the other.”

InDaClub420: Shout out to ma gurl, Kiki! U lookin fine!!!

Casey had nearly finished getting ready for the shoot when her roommate Kiki arrived on set.

Like Pilar, Casey had been told to dress “attractive-casual,” but she’d also been told that the producer liked her cosplay work. Gary and Anthony couldn’t tell her which cosplay work and didn’t actually know what “cosplay” meant, though. And, Casey had deliberately not put any of her cosplay work into the portfolio the Carlisle Agency showed potential clients. She’d been left guessing what look the client wanted.

With her hair currently platinum-blonde, there were a couple of obvious choices. She’d worked a con in Michigan as the Black Cat and done some motion capture work as the White Queen, but both were awfully sexy for “attractive-casual.” And, she doubted Emma Frost had ever been drawn or portrayed as anything “casual.” Besides, her white leather corset was still in a closet in her parents’ house in Texas.

She’d ultimately decided to draw inspiration from Belldandy, the title character in Ah! My Goddess! She was the wrong kind of blonde for Belldandy, but she had all the pieces she would need in her wardrobe and she liked the chunky, gold belt, necklace, and bracelets that were just a bit much to wear in day-to-day life. Even without the blue face makeup she would have worn to portray the character, she thought that combining a blue and white party dress with the jewelry made an obvious homage to Belldandy.

Kiki stepped into the room, leaned against the door, and closed her eyes. The shoot was setting up in an office space and the dressing rooms were converted offices with mirrors and dressing tables brought in. The glass front wall that normally looked out out on the rest of the floor was taped over with brown paper.

Even though Casey had dimmed the lights to half brightness, Kiki blinked like she wished she were wearing sunglasses. “Sorry. I don’t know what happened last night. I fell asleep and nobody heard my four AM alarm.”

“Nobody?” Casey allowed herself a small smirk. Kiki’s adventures helped put her own decidedly-less-checkered past in perspective. “How many people were there?”

Kiki sat in an office chair. “That is a straightforward question with a very complicated answer and I may not be the most qualified witness. I don’t remember drinking more than usual last night, but I feel terrible this morning.”

Casey continued to fiddle with her hair. The hair was the hardest part of Belldandy. “Was last night good enough to be worth it?”

Kiki reached for her duffel bag. “Like I said. It was complicated. I think I need to simplify - find myself somebody nice for a change.”

“Seriously?” Casey turned to look at her friend.

Kiki pulled a towel out of her bag and started to strip out of her street clothes. “Not to settle down or anything. Just to ... take a break from the scene for a while, I think. Somebody who’s just in New York for the summer maybe. Meet him in July, send him back to his college girlfriend in September.”

“Sounds like a sublet.” Casey rose and held out her arms. “How’s my Belldandy? This dress isn’t too sailor fuku. Is it?”

Kiki toweled sweat off her upper body. “Remind me who Sailor Fuku was again? Was she the one with the cat?”

Casey sighed. “Sailor fuku is what Japanese schoolgirls wear. It looks like an old British navy uniform.”

“Right.” Kiki toweled off her face. “Sorry. I’m still like the worst Japanese person ever. I need a Tylenol and a nap. But, you look good ... and not in a Japanese schoolgirl way.”

“Did I manage ‘blonde goddess come to Earth?’” Casey prompted.

“Always, Case.” Kiki held out the towel. “Could you dry off my back, please? I just can’t stop sweating this morning.”

Kiki routinely flattered Casey, often in ways that would get a guy slapped if he said them. Even after a year as roommates, Casey still wasn’t sure if Kiki was interested in her that way or she was into Kiki or whether she was even into girls at all. It was still possible she’d only been interested in one woman so strongly as to overcome her natural preference for men. Cat had called her a “spaghetti lesbian” - only straight until she got wet. Casey still wasn’t sure.

She rose and toweled off Kiki’s bare, sweat-coated back. As her fingers brushed over her roommate’s shoulder, she shuddered. “Eww, Keek. You’re clammy. Are you sure you’re going to make it through whatever it is we’re doing today?”

Kiki turned and took the towel back. “I’ll manage. The show must go on. Right?”

SuprSmrt2002: Totally staged. There’s no way those girls were so nice to him if they didn’t know he was mega-rich.

“There’s some kind of street festival on Bleecker Street. You want me to go around or do you want to walk?”

Nick looked to Max, who shrugged. “I can use the exercise, but we’re already running late.”

“They can’t start without us.” Nick handed the driver a twenty. “We’ll walk. Keep that.”

As they climbed out of the car and headed down Bleecker Street, Max pointed out, “They can’t start without you.”

Nick craned his neck at the booths selling food and bright clothing. “Don’t sell yourself short. You are the assistant director.”

“Second assistant director,” Max reminded him. “And, in that’s not a sinecure, it’s probably just running to get people coffee and stuff.”

After Nick asked what a sinecure was and Max told him it was a do-nothing job you got for being friends with the producer, Nick looked thoughtful. “I didn’t actually ask them what you’d be doing as second assistant director. I just assumed ... directory stuff. Do you want to do directory stuff?”

“Today or ever?” Max asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “I don’t know. The last plan I made was to go to Rutgers to study programming. I guess it depends on how big what you want to talk about on Monday is going to be.”

“Shit. We really didn’t talk about that last night. Did we?” Nick shook his head. “I meant to. I still don’t have all the details down, but Andretti is drawing together all the paperwork for me to review tomorrow evening. But ... how would you feel about taking a gap year to help me figure out what I’m going to do with all that money and whether you want to do it with me?”

“I’d ... love to. My parents might have issues with it.” said Max, once he got over his initial surprise. “And I’m still relying on them to help me pay for college.”

“Don’t worry about paying for college.” Nick stopped and turned to face his friend. “Listen, I’ve discovered that I’m absolutely terrible at talking to my friends about money. Part of why I’m having Ainsley draw up the paperwork before I talk to you is so I can chicken out and let her explain what’s in it. But, I think it’s a sweet package and it involves enough money that even your parents won’t be able to find fault.”

“You say that, but my parents are a sucking black hole of financial mismanagement,” Max reminded him. “You really don’t have to make my problems into your problems.”

“Don’t worry about ‘have to’ and don’t worry about sucking black holes. In addition to salaries and benefits, I’ve set up a giant black hole-sized cork called the ‘Get Max’s Parents Off His Back Fund.’ You can use it or not, however you see fit. You can tell them it exists or not, however you see fit. If you somehow manage to use up all the money that’s already there, I’ll put more in. I’m moving into my new place right after this shoot. You don’t have to wait until Monday to move in with me if you don’t want to. Your apartment is ready.”

Max slowed his pace, considering his friend’s words. Ever since he’d first heard that Nick was inheriting a huge estate on his eighteenth birthday, this had been Max’s secret fantasy - that his friend would somehow make it possible for Max to assert his independence from his parents. It hadn’t been an idle fantasy. Nick had always been generous to a fault. When Max had his first summer job at the Brownfield Mills Public Library and found that his parents expected him to contribute all but a small “allowance” to the household budget, he’d expressed his frustration to Nick. A week later, Nick’s father Ed offered Max a second job at the animal hospital he administered. The job was off the books and Ed made it clear that he wouldn’t tell Max’s parents that he wasn’t a volunteer. And, when Max had been struggling to write his first game on school and library computers, Nick had bought himself a new laptop and gifted the old one to Max.

Even with those relatively small kindnesses, Nick had gotten embarrassed and awkward when Max tried to thank him for then, denying he’d actually done anything at all. Max laughed, “Your ears are getting red.”

“See?” Nick gestured at his ears. “I’m going to have to get over this, but I have no idea. I’m still trying to figure out if I’m an asshole for overtipping that cabbie.”

“Eight thirty on a bill of eleven seventy is generous, but I don’t think it’s asshole generous,” Max offered.

“Right. I figured I asked him to drive into bad traffic, then got out before we made it to the original destination. I always would have wanted to pay for that, but now I can.” Nick made a gesture with his hands. “This is why I seriously need to hire you five to help me figure out how to give money away.”

“We’re hardly experts on the subject.”

“I have experts ... or access to experts anyway. My new family gives away tons of money every year. But all they can tell me is how really, really rich people try to change the world.” Nick shook his head. “I’ll listen, but I already know that what they’re doing can’t be the whole answer or the world wouldn’t be as screwed up as it is. I need a lever of Archimedes and I think that means starting from scratch with a team that knows they don’t know how to fix things.”

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