AMA: The Boyfriend
Copyright© 2023 by BreaktheBar
Chapter 398
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 398 - Robbie doubts his fiancee Cassidy's story, but he can see the guilt she's been carrying. When they were young she became a User of the Affection Multiplier App. It gamified her relationships and she became addicted to the chase - until she realized how she was betraying Robbie and hit rock bottom. Now Cassidy intends to make things right. They are about to spend a week with her fellow cosplayers, and her only goal is to give Robbie the love and sex he deserves. He isn't so sure about this.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Mult Consensual Romantic Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction GameLit Sharing RAAC DomSub MaleDom Light Bond Rough Spanking Harem Polygamy/Polyamory White Male Oriental Female White Couple Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Exhibitionism Facial Massage Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Spitting Squirting Voyeurism
The rest of my morning was a bit of a mental shitshow. Nothing was going horribly wrong, but I was under pressure, and stressed, in just about every part of my life. Thankfully the lesser stresses, at least for the moment, were what to do with or for my girlfriends. Everyone was on board for the weekend plan - I’d gotten return texts from Leia, Zenya and Terra with good morning emojis (though I was pretty sure the sequence Zenya sent me had a coded message about eggplanting her peach), Cass and Cattie were prepping for their flights, and I’d spoken with Becca and Ami.
Still no word on Wanda though.
I was feeling awkward socially though because of my session with Doctor Samson. Why didn’t I have more guy friends? There wasn’t any problem with having female friends, obviously, but all through high school and college I’d had plenty of guys in my social circle. Swim teams had been a big part of that, but they weren’t my only outlet.
The realistic answer was that it was just harder to make friends as an adult, even through work. Or maybe even especially at work - friendly acquaintances, friendly coworkers, were a different vibe than come over and hang out people. And realistically I also knew that being in a long-term relationship meant it was harder to be friends with other guys as well - I wasn’t looking to head out to the bars to meet women. If I was at a bar, or a concert, or anywhere social I was with Cassidy.
And then, of course, there was work. Usually I was pretty fucking good at being on top of things - Doug had trusted me with taking on the core Ballroom event planning system because I’d proven to him early and often that my dedication to preparation meant that I was also very good at emergency management of situations. And not only that, but empowering the staff I was working with to feel ready to adapt as well because they knew that I had their backs, and had done the work so they could focus on their jobs.
But that wasn’t what Doug was demanding now, and it wasn’t what he was setting me up to succeed at.
No, he wanted me to be a salesman. He wanted me to be a schemer, really. To pad out our books with cheap and fast money at the sacrifice of our quality. And our reputation was good. Walt, for all his goofiness and the recent fireworks issue, was good at his job with the outdoor and seasonal events. I could even see him, with a few more years of maturity under his belt and maybe a girlfriend to curb his more flirty tendencies, being able to handle our indoor events well too. Tracy didn’t really give two shits about out Casino Floor events, which was fine because they really didn’t need all that much razzle dazzle and she was excellent at managing the Gallery. Even Jonas, for all his cockiness and dickish behaviour, was pretty damn good at his job when interacting with Act managers and getting tickets sold.
Tan was, so far, the exception.
But fucking Doug...
The rest of my morning was spent trying to ignore the urge to check the booking schedules. No matter what Jonas said, if he booked something into one of my ballrooms, I was considering them his events. I still hadn’t decided on the politics side of things and whether I actually wanted to do something to give Doug enough rope to hang himself over a cliff, but I didn’t have the mind right now to save him from himself either.
I got a text from Cassidy around 11:30 as I was working with the maintenance crews on converting the Sunset ballroom back over to a high stakes blackjack room - another reason why I thought trying to ‘fill the cracks’ in the schedule didn’t make sense since we always put the smaller ballrooms to use during off time if it made sense. She sent me a black heart, a car and a plane emoji.
She was driving Cattie to the airport.
That made my heart hurt just a little, aching to give my sweet girlfriend another hug. To hold her again, and fall asleep with her.
Sooner than later, hopefully.
I headed down to meet Dayana for our usual lunch meeting, the Sunset ballroom already sporting a couple of dealers, a bartender and a trio of blackjack players while the Sunrise ballroom was hosting a corporate luncheon event. The main ballroom was already in the works for the Bar Mitzvah that afternoon, with Tracy working with the Fischers for final touches.
“Hey,” Dayana said, sounding tired already as I walked in.
“Oof,” I said. “What happened?”
She rolled her eyes. “The regular shit, mostly,” she said. “But then the VIP’s assistant asked Ash to make reservations at all the restaurants. For every meal.”
I sighed as I sat down across from her, eyeing the tray she’d brought me. It looked like some sort of Thai fusion, which wasn’t on any of our menus. “That sounds like a waste of tables,” I said. Some of our restaurants were booked out several weeks in advance - we weren’t hosting any Michelin-star eateries, but a couple of them were starting to get pretty damn popular. I knew Dayana made sure all the maitre d’s kept a table or two open to make the lives of the concierge team easier when dealing with whale clients, but adding an extra table to that list would start dinging bottom lines over time.
“Mhmm,” Dayana hummed, then closed out whatever she was looking at on her computer and turned to pay more particular attention to me. “Oh,” she said, seeing my glance at the food. “That’s from the new place over in the Cromwell. I did a favour for the chef, and he sent someone over with a thank-you. The line cook who drove it over said it was Pad Kee Mao.”
“Never heard of it,” I frowned, taking a long sniff of it and recoiling a little. “OK, this has a kick to it.”
Dayana took a hard sniff and shrugged. “Smells good to me.”
I narrowed my eyes as she smirked a little at me. Her childhood in Venezuela had given her a bigger tolerance for spice than I had - I wasn’t a slouch, but we’d already been through the ‘I can handle anything you can and better’ discussion about spicy foods long ago.
She laughed and opened a lower drawer on her desk, pulling out a pair of tall coke bottles. “I snagged these, they should be able to cut the kick.”
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