Free In The Company of Billionaires - Part 1 by Ashley Rivers

Part 1
     
     
    Intro
     
     
    I felt horny.
Very horny. No – scratch that. I felt lonely. In fact, I felt
downbeat more than lonely. I’d recently committed an offense that
had led to the subsequent dismissal of my person from my
employment. Hence, I was currently jobless, with impending
homelessness not far from the horizon.
    I lived in a
studio apartment in SoHo, New York, and it was a place that ate
away a large chunk of the salary that I earned from a school where
I taught kids the tricks of geometry and algebra. Yeah, go ahead
and laugh; Irena Thompson teaching high school Math sounded funny
even to me.
    But there I
was, barely a year out of college, and found myself a high school
teacher with no clue about life and what I really wanted to do with
it. It was a gig I did for close to two years, and would end
abruptly, with the school firing me for “unprofessional conduct” –
their term, not mine.
    I love fucking,
and I don’t state that lightly, because I really love fucking. When
it comes to pleasing my body in that time-worn method, I observe no
rules, and I know no boundaries. I confess that on occasion I’ve
been with women as fuck partners, but I’m more often inclined to
want a dick inside my pussy than a pussy rubbing against my
pussy.
    Right now I
wanted a dick so much I could feel myself creaming my panties just
thinking about it. And God I wanted some intimacy! I wanted to rub
my body against a man’s naked body and feel his hands holding me
strong and hard. I wanted to grab a man’s cock and balls in my hand
and stroke him until he came. I wanted…Shit! I wanted a fuck so bad
I think I was losing my mind.
    What’s one to
do?
    I think it is
absolutely necessary in a young woman’s life to have friends with
benefits on speed dial. I got one such friend. Named Taraje
Jackson, he is a 26-year-old financial adviser who works for one of
the big Wall Street banks. He lives in a two-bedroom apartment in
the Chelsea district of Manhattan. I decided to call him and asked
only one question when he answered his phone. ‘Where are you?’
    ‘My place.’
    I ended the
call and caught a cab to take me there. In twenty minutes I was
knocking at the door of his apartment. When he opened the door, an
annoyed frown crossed his face.
    ‘What the fuck
are you doin’ here?’
    Not exactly the
enthusiastic response I’d been expecting. ‘I need a fuck.’
    ‘We are
friends, Rena. Friends don’t just go around fucking each other.
It’s not normal.’
    Just for the
record, my name is Irena. Taraje’s omission of the first vowel of
my name is his own choice, and I’ve given up trying to correct him.
As for his moral ground on sexual intercourse with friends, here’s
the fact: Save for the fact that Taraje is a black dude with a
strong athletic body, and I’m a slim – some people might be
inclined to call me thin, but I would dispute that – white chick
with a pert round ass that some girls I know are envious of, we
weren’t that different. Like me, Taraje is an unrepentant sex
addict who during his short existence on earth has fucked more
girls than any man is entitled to in his lifetime.
    ‘Don’t give me
that bullshit,’ I told him. ‘I want to give you pussy. Don’t tell
me you don’t wanna...’
    He sighed and
rolled his eyes. ‘Let’s not forget that I have – not once, but
several times – been inside your pussy. It’s no different from any
pussy that I can get elsewhere.’
    ‘No,’ I
countered. ‘It’s firmer and tighter and you know it.’
    Again he sighed
and gave me a tired look. ‘Rena, what the fuck is up with you?’
    ‘I’m feeling
down, and I’m lonely. I want to have some company.’
    ‘Gorgeous girl
like you…Go to any bar and any man will pick you up.’
    True, but... ‘I
don’t want any man. I want your cock.’
    He laughed.
‘Well, that’s a compliment. Tell me why...’
    ‘Shit, Taraje,
fuck all this talk, I got some killer weed to roll, and I brought