Mega-Bitch

After the third outing that Jonathan Jenkins attending with me and Merilee, during a meeting about the wedding on a Monday he asked me to dinner – in Paris. As I playfully swooshed my hair off of my neck, twirled a curl, and then fidgeted with my red scarf, I changed from subtle to brazen. "It sounds to me that if we fly to Paris, even on a private jet, that we'll have to stay overnight. Are you planning on fucking me?"

He was a loss for words for a few seconds, but you don't get to be one of the hundred wealthiest men by being shy, retiring, or indirect. "Actually, Amy, I would like to do that more than anything else in the world," he replied with a sly grin.

I got up from my seat, sashayed over to him, and played with one of his earlobes. "Hey, Jonathan, I wouldn't mind playing hide the salami with you. However, at the present stage of my life I'm interested in a relationship that could possibly lead to marriage. While I really enjoy fucking I'm not interested in some guy just getting his rocks off. From my friendship with Merilee I know that you're an honest guy; if you tell me that there is the possibility of a relationship that might even lead to marriage in the future, make reservations at your favorite Parisian establishment. Otherwise, no hard feelings."

With that I gave him a quick kiss on the lips and turned and started walking out of the room. "Wait," he yelled just before I exited. "You've got a great idea, I swear. Can you be ready to leave on my jet by eight Saturday morning?"

"I'll see you at the private terminal at 8:30," I replied with a smile, and then with another swoosh of my hair I strutted out of the room certain that his eyes were glued to my ass. Of course I could easily have made it by eight – but he needed to know that I was at least partially in control.

I immediately called up Estelle. She was always happy to talk to me because my promotional video was a fantastic advertising school and she was achieving all of her objectives with her Charm School. Also, she actually liked me and treated me more like a niece than an ex-pupil or friend. "Hello my favorite mentor," I started out the conversation.

"Your only one," she laughed.

"I have yet another favor to ask you; I need to brush up on my French for a Parisian restaurant and hotel."

"What's the name of the restaurant?" she asked.

"Le Meurice – did I pronounce that right?" I replied.

"WOW – expensive; he must have lots of money, and yes you pronounced it perfectly."

"Yes, money is not a problem" I laughed. "I want to be cultured, and a good guest."

"I'll send you an email today and if you want we can meet Wednesday and Thursday nights to have some practice conversations. I will have some of my present students here, all of whom are anxious to meet you anyway – the famous Amy – so we will be helping each other out."

"Thank you so much Madame Bovary," I giggled. "I look forward to your email and when you want to meet Wednesday and Thursday."

By the time that Saturday morning rolled around I was loaded for bear. Not only did I have how to talk and act at Le Meurice and the hotel down pat, Estelle gave me two dresses with matching pashminas and my ego was boosted by the hero worship that I got from her students. Friday night I douched, shaved, and did my daily Kegel exercises to get ready.

Jonathan was a gentlemen and an excellent conversationalist on the quick flight to Paris in his Cessna Citation X, which was certified by the FAA at mach 0.935, or 617 mph, making it the fastest civilian plane in the world. He was interrupted for business decisions a half dozen times, but was always apologetic and it was clear that he was anxious to conclude them as quickly as possible.

When we got to Le Meurice Jonathan was taken aback a little when I answered the maître de's English language questions in French. When the waiter appeared and Jonathan suggested that he order for me, in French I said to the waiter "Masseur Jenkins is a chivalrous man but I am a modern woman and would prefer to order myself. I would love the Coq au Vin prepared traditionally, with the wine from your extensive collection that in your expertise you find is the best with that venerable dish."

The waiter thought that I was a goddess; Jonathan was at a loss for words but had a crooked smile on his face. Once Jonathan ordered and the waiter left I touched Jonathan – who was sitting next to me on my left not across from me – on the hand and then stroked it. "I hope that you don't mind that I took the bull by the horns, but I'm my own woman," I said with a smile.

"You're full of surprises, aren't you?" he chuckled.

"Play your cards right and tonight you'll get the most pleasant surprises of your life," I giggled as I did the lean in, higher pitch, and hair swoosh all at the same time. Jonathan gulped.

After a wonderful meal we took a carriage ride to the hotel, where our bags were already unpacked in the penthouse suite. Jonathan was stumbling over himself trying to please me. I put him out of his misery.

I sauntered up to Jonathan as he was holding out a drink for me. I slowly deflected the drink away as I approached him and stroked my index finger over his lips. "I like you Jonathan. You've been a perfect gentleman today and I hope that I've been a perfect lady."

He vigorously nodded his head in agreement with the last statement.

"I've decided that I'm going to fuck you so relax. Maybe a shower together after a long day will be a good start."

I do believe that his crotch tented as fast as any that I had ever seen in my life.

That night and the next morning I was the perfect lover. I washed him gently and seductively in the shower, I let him gum my perky tits as much as he wanted to, I sucked his testicles and stroked his cock, I rode him cowgirl like a whore, then snuggled him like a wife. I was available for anything, but demanded nothing except close body contact. After I got his fifty three year old cock up three times by ten a. m. the next morning and squeezed three ejaculations out of him with my Kegel-enhanced pussy, he was one happy camper.

"Say Amy – do you mind if stay another day and night in Paris," he asked as we lay naked next to each other while he lightly pinched one of my nipples. "That may have been the best night of my life!"

"May have?" I blurted out with fake indignation. "Then I must be doing something wrong or you must have dated SuperGirl before," I barked before giggling.

He tweaked my nipple harder and said "You're so bad I can't believe it."

"In answer to your question, as long as you can call my office and ask if I can meet with you off site to finish up wedding plans – and as long as you know you're going to have to pay for that – I'd love to. In fact, I'd like it so much that I guarantee that I'll change the 'may have been' to 'definitely was!'"

Obviously the call was made.

We had a nice breakfast, then a stroll around the city (with Jonathon's two body guards inconspicuously leading and trailing us). After lunch we were about to go to the Louvre – someplace that I had always wanted to see since I met Estelle (I had never heard of it before then) when Jonathon got a call on his cell. He excused himself and answered it while I looked in the window of a high end dress shop.

"Listen, Amy; I really need to deal with something that just came up. You don't mind if Andre takes you to the Louvre do you?" Andre being his male secretary.

With a sweet smile I replied "Of course not, Jonathon, as long as you don't mind if I fuck Andre tonight instead of you."

The color drained from his face. I didn't change my expression. A sly smile overtook him. "You're the toughest negotiator I've ever come across in my life. I should offer you a job instead of dating you. OK – listen, will you let me off the hook for just one half hour. I see you looking into that dress shop. If I can leave for one half hour you can buy anything in the store that you want to."

"Anything?" I asked with a diabolical grin.

"Up to 25,000 Euros," he replied with a groan.

"See you in thirty minutes," I chuckled then walked into the store.

This was – aside from the charm in the restaurant and bedroom activities – my first chance to really wow Jonathon, and I was not about to blow it. I bought only one dress – although it perfectly complemented my figure – and a matching fascinator, which "only" cost 3,000 Euros. Andre paid for it. The purchase had just been completed when Jonathon arrived back, thirty five minutes after he had left. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Andre show him the bill and a smile cross his face.

"You only bought one dress?" Jonathon asked.

"And a fascinator," I added. "I really liked this one and thought that you might like it, and I saw no reason to splurge just because you had a business matter to take care of. Well, what do you think of it?" I asked as I twirled around.

The eyeballs of both bodyguards and Andre were popping out of their heads; Jonathon just whistled. "Never saw a woman look better in my life," he chuckled.

I handed my bag with the clothes I had worn into the shop to Andre and while batting my eyelashes said "Thank you so much for your assistance, Andre – you have good taste. Do you mind taking my bag so that I can hold Jonathon's arm while he escorts me to the Louvre?"

"Of course not Miss Baxter," he eagerly replied.

"Please Andre, call me 'Amy' otherwise I'll have to call you Mr. Milton," I laughed as I handed him my bag. I then quickly grabbed Jonathon's arm and started walking at a swift pace. I know that hard-charging guys absolutely hate to walk at a snail's pace and I could see that Jonathon loved both me hanging on his arm and scurrying quickly along.

That night I fucked Jonathon so profoundly that he couldn't even pretend that it wasn't his best sexual experience ever.

When Jonathon's private plane touched down in the U. S. on Monday evening I insisted on getting a cab rather than have his chauffer go out of his way to drop me off at my apartment. "The ball's in your court big guy," I said to him just after I gave him a kiss that would knock any guy's socks off, and then sashayed away.

Two days later I was meeting with Merilee to make final arrangements for her wedding. We broke for lunch and as we shared a sandwich she asked "What have you done to my father?"

"Whatever do you mean?" I replied with a sly smile.

"You bitch," she laughed. "After that trip to Paris he was the happiest that I've ever seen him since my sixth birthday party when he gave me a pony – maybe even happier than then," she cackled.

I just smiled.

"Could someone as hot as you are really fall for my Dad – I sure wouldn't want him to get hurt."

"Let me put it this way, Merilee; if I were you I'd be very apprehensive about someone younger than I am making a play for my father. I'd think that she was a gold digger and do everything that I could to discourage it. Because of that I'm going to be completely frank with you."

I chewed a bite of sandwich for a few seconds before continuing – Merilee was paying rapt attention. "Based upon looks alone I'd never fall for your father; but he's a powerful man with a great bearing and to those he wants to please a warm heart. I really, really like him. I can't say that I'll fall madly in love with him – I probably won't. But I'll love and respect him enough to make him happy; I'd be the perfect wife. I'd sign any prenup he put before me without reading it IF he were so inclined to make a proposal of marriage. But by the same token there are lots of other fish to fry and if after a couple of months it appears that he doesn't have any long term interest but just likes me because I'm a great fuck, then I'll be gone."

I thought that Merilee would choke on her sandwich.

"You OK?" I asked.

"Uh...yeah...I think so," she coughed. "I'm just not used to such frankness from people." Then she squeezed my hand. "You're awesome."

We didn't talk any more about it.

Merilee's wedding went off without a hitch. I dressed down and stayed in the background as much as I could so as not to upstage the bride in any way. Jonathon was always peering at me but I pretended not to notice. When the last guest left the reception with big thanks to Jonathon, and his ex, Maven, had long ago departed, he approached me.

"Amy, I've never been more impressed by someone's enthusiasm and dedication than I have been regarding how you handled Merilee's wedding. It was classy but not ostentatious, things moved smoothly, and if anyone didn't have a good time it was their own fault."

"Thank you Jonathon, that really means a lot," I said with an enormous toothy smile.

"Also, I appreciate your honesty with Merilee about us."

"What?" I said. "She told you?"

"Of course she did; we love each other unconditionally especially since we saved each other from that evil shrew that I used to be married to. I hope that she didn't break any confidence."

I shrugged my shoulders. "No, I didn't tell her that it was a secret or confidential; I'm just surprised that she told you – I might have sugar-coated it more if I had anticipated that she would."

He laughed. "Somehow I don't think that sugar-coating is your style."

I laughed too.

"Now that the wedding is over I can seriously start to court you. Can you go with me to a party at the French consulate this coming Friday? Black tie. I'd be happy to get you a dress if you feel you don't have anything to wear."

"Why thank you, Jonathon, I'd be happy to."

****************

And so Jonathon Jenkin's courtship of Amy Baxter started in earnest. I acted according to Madame Bovary's best practices whenever I accompanied him to fancy gatherings, I took him on picnics and to minor league athletic contests and to do hands on work with several charities, and we went to plays and dinners. I didn't fuck him every time that we went out, but when I did I always made sure that it was an experience that he wouldn't forget. Of course I kept fucking others too, although very discretely.

I also discouraged Jonathon from giving me fancy gifts. When he violated that the first time I chanced risking his anger when I put an over-the-top necklace that he had given to me up for auction to raise money for a women's shelter at a high roll ball that they were hosting.

"That looks like the necklace that I gave you," he said as we perused the program as the live auction started.

"It is the necklace that you gave me. The Shelter can use the money a hell of a lot more than I can use the necklace," I said.

His eyes flashed anger. I didn't flinch. "Say, Jonathon, did you give me the necklace without all incidents of ownership, or was it mine to do with as I pleased?" I asked in an even but no-nonsense voice.

He started to reply but was stammering. "I told you not to give me fancy gifts. Now look at the program and see who donated the necklace – You and Me."

"But..." he continued to stammer.

"Look, bozo; I'm the best thing that ever happened to you so just suck it up."

He looked bewildered. He had no clue how to handle someone like me – which is just the way that I wanted it. I reached over, put my fingers on both sides of his mouth and pushed up to turn his frown into a smile. "That's my boy," I said and gave him a big kiss with some tongue. Then he really did smile. "Now make sure that some of your buddies bid appropriately for the necklace – the shelter needs the money, attendees don't need a good deal."

Still smiling he got up and went to the tables of three of his captains-of-industry friends. They made sure that the necklace went for $50,000. After the applause for the highest-ticket item of the night – the necklace – died down I whispered in his ear "You're not going to be able to walk tomorrow once I get through with you big guy," and then stuck my tongue in his ear.

There were two more tests before he was ready to propose to me. The first came on my birthday when he gave me a Mercedes 600 SL for a present. In the company of others I thanked him and kissed him. When I got him alone it was another story.

"Jonathon, I'm very grateful for the car. However, the 600 SL is a gas-guzzler and I wouldn't be caught dead driving it. I don't want you to be upset when I trade it in and get a Prius."

"A Prius?" he snapped. "I can't have you driving a Prius."

"Why not?"

"Because all of my friends and business associates will think that I'm a cheap son-of-a-bitch, that's why."

"Explain to them that your girlfriend is her own woman and to stick it where the sun don't shine," I said, stomping my foot and crossing my arms.

He looked at me crossly for a minute or so. He had seen my look before. After a minute I turned and started to leave. "Wait," he called out. "How about a Tesla?"

"A Tesla is good for the environment but it costs $70,000 more than a Prius."

"Yeah, but it's the safest car on the road, and I really want you to be safe. Please can we trade the Mercedes for a Tesla?"

"You really are concerned for my safety?" I asked as I fake choked-up and got a fake tear in my eye."

"Of course – I love you."

There – he said it. I wasn't about to let it go by. We were at his mansion. Without another word I took him by the hand, led him up to his bedroom, and attacked him like a call girl on speed. When we woke up spooning the next morning his first words, said with a chuckle, were "Were you trying to kill me last night?"

"No – I was trying to thank you for being concerned for my welfare, and because you said that you loved me. Did you mean it or was it just a way to get me into your bed in a frisky mood."

"That wasn't frisky, that was vigorous, spirited, and over-the-top; and yes I meant it."

"That entitles you to a morning blowjob," I giggled as I fondled his balls and took his cock into my mouth. I got the Tesla the next day despite the waiting list in our area.

The next test came when he asked me to marry him while in a gondola in Venice. "I don't know if you love me, Amy, but I'm madly in love with you and won't be happy unless you're my wife," he said on bended knee – careful not to tip the boat over – holding out a very nice, but less than ostentatious, marquee cut diamond ring with emerald baguettes.

"I'm not sure if I love you either, Jonathon, but I love being in your company and I'll make you proud that I'm your wife. Yes, yes, I'll marry you," I replied and then gave him a big kiss after he put the ring on my finger.

We had a great time in Venice during which I treated him like a king both in and out of the bedroom. When we got back to the U. S. the first thing that I did was to say "Thank you for such a romantic vacation and proposal. You're a fabulous man. Now for the practical, however. You need to get a pre-nup done up right away. I don't want you to be generous in it, because although I truly enjoy your wealth if we divorce I don't want to take any with me. Whatever you propose I'll sign."

"We'll see," he said.

"Just one thing, though – it does have to have mutual infidelity clauses," I intoned. He raised his eyebrows and merely replied "OK."

Of course I'm not that generous or stupid. I had met with the old fart law firm partner, and the male associate (Adam), that would be handling the pre-nup several times before at parties or social gatherings and for business. Adam was smart but appeared easy to manipulate. He was married and couldn't afford to be anything but discrete if he ever wanted to make partner, so when I seduced him he would do my bidding without chance of me being exposed. After the first time that I fucked Adam he was on board, and after the second time was a staunch advocate.

Adam's role was to first draft a stingy pre-nup but in discussions with the partner and Jonathon work into the conversation how unusual it was for someone not to participate in the drafting at all. Then he would wonder aloud whether or not that required Jonathon to be more generous than he otherwise would be since eventually I would find out about the agreement and might think less of him if he was cheap. It worked like a charm.