Taken But not Robbed
- 1 year ago
- 21
- 0
ConcordiaChapter 5 free porn video
January 22 – January 30
I woke lying face down, naked and uncovered in her bed. I knew immediately where I was since the big bed smelled of sex and her wonderful perfume. I didn't know if I could move after the night I'd just experienced. Twice last night and once this morning, Grace had turned me inside out. Her naked body seemed made for sex, but she was also an unselfish lover, very concerned about her partner's pleasure. And what pleasure it was! We seemed well matched in that department. I was getting hard again just thinking about her sensitive nipples and perfect breasts and all the other smooth and toned parts of her that were made to give pleasure. Thankfully the condoms hadn't been needed. The sensation of being bareback inside her defied description, and the feel of her incredibly long legs wrapped around me, urging me to go faster and harder, had kept me up for a long time.
There was no sign of my bed partner, but the smell of brewing coffee and bacon frying told me that someone was making breakfast. I wondered what she was wearing and if I could entice her into bed when she came back into the bedroom.
My date with Grace had gone from wonderful to stratospheric. She was engaging and charming, to say nothing of being a sexy and beautiful dinner companion. The Italian/continental restaurant was the perfect place for an intimate dinner. We sat close together at the back of a curved banquette while the chef performed his magic. It was the kind of unpretentious but fabulous restaurant where service was delivered perfectly and without fanfare. The meal, several courses of small plates, did all the talking for the chef. It was the kind of place where your water or wine glass was never empty, and seemed to refill through its own volition. Everything was done to prevent interruption of your enjoyment of your companion and the meal.
Lying in that big bed the next morning, I hated to admit that I remembered nothing specific about each of the dishes, other than every bite was delicious. The problem was that Grace, with the beautiful face and body and that blue cocktail dress, dominated my thoughts throughout the meal. Actually it had started before that. Sitting on her sofa sipping champagne in front of the fire, proved an incredibly romantic and sex-charged atmosphere. Especially since her hem kept riding up those delicious sheer-nylon covered thighs. After a while I stopped trying not to stare, although her slight décolletage also offered a tantalizing view of the tops of her perfect breasts. Grace seemed pleased as I reacted to her seduction, because that was what it was. Before the restaurant at her place, in the town car on the way to dinner, and all through dinner we played the ancient game of lovers. There was no teasing about it. After dinner we knew we were going back to the Trump Parc to one or the other of our beds. Even if I never saw Grace again I'd remember this night for a long time. Of course I intended to see much more of her in every sense.
"What are you smiling about Mr. Burns?" she asked as she came into her bedroom. I turned my head to examine her. She was dressed in a light blue silk shorty robe that barely covered her nicely trimmed mound – she was a natural redhead I had discovered. Her hair was brushed and she had fresh lipstick on. She had obviously showered while I had continued rehearsing my eternal rest. The matching blue heels made her legs look good enough to eat, along with the rest of her. I rolled over, my cock standing at attention.
"Thinking about you ... us."
"Oh dear, just when I was going to announce breakfast was ready." She licked her lips as she approached the bed. I took her hand as she got closer, her eyes never leaving my erection.
"I would hate for breakfast to get cold, and I hate cold coffee ... maybe after breakfast." I teased as I placed her hand on me.
Grace shuddered, and said, "I'd hate for it to go to waste."
"Breakfast?" I asked.
She didn't reply as her red lipped mouth engulfed the head of my cock.
Thirty minutes later Grace snuggled against me, her naked body still quivering from the series of orgasms she'd experienced. Of course, I felt like I might not be able to ever get it up again.
"Damn Robert ... you really have excelled in your audition. I may have to cancel all the others." She smiled as she looked at me.
I smiled back and said, "I'm glad I was able to help a damsel in distress."
"You seem to excel at that. The poor young woman from the ship doesn't know what she missed!"
Eventually we made our way to breakfast, which Grace served at the small round blond wood table set at the windows very near the kitchen. Wisely Grace had put breakfast in the oven before she had come to wake me. I smiled - a smart woman who planned ahead.
"Robert, I wish you were going to Dallas with me," she said as she sipped her coffee, eyeing me across the small table with those beautiful eyes. She still had on the silk robe and for much of breakfast I had been tantalized by her hard nipples poking the sheer fabric. Damn she was sexy! And a damn good cook too. She had produced a thick terry robe for me to wear. I knew better than to ask.
The bacon and cheese frittata she had "thrown together" was delicious and the coffee was perfect, for me hot and black, for Grace, just a little cream.
"It's more than tempting Grace, but I've got to get Roksana sorted out. I've delayed long enough. She belongs with me, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to get her back."
She reached across and touched my hand – her delicate fingers seeming to leave little paths of electricity as they made contact with my skin. "I know you do, Robert ... but two weeks away from you ... even though we've just met, seems like a very long time."
I took her soft hand and said, "Grace, maybe it'll take less time and I, we, can join you for a few days."
Her eyes sparkled with pleasure. "That would be wonderful. Just call me and I'll send the plane. I'd love to meet your daughter."
Grace didn't own her own plane, ("too outrageously expensive"), but she did own a share in a private jet which gave her a certain number of flight hours each month.
"That's very generous. I might just take you up on the offer."
"You'd better," she said as she smiled.
Her iPhone chimed, telling her she had a message. I watched her perfectly shaped, tanned and toned ass as she moved to the kitchen counter to retrieve the phone. The short robe only made the view more sensual, and she still wore the heels. My cock stirred. Not more than thirty minutes ago, I would have sworn I was not going to get it up again for at least a week!
She came back to the table reading the message, her nipples still standing at attention. She carried the coffee pot with her. My cock twitched.
"I'm sorry, Robert ... Don't mean to be rude, checking messages and all, but I sent a text to my friend David Ryan this morning. He's a Chicago attorney, and I've known him for years and he owes me some favors."
I grinned at her as she poured the coffee.
She blushed delicately. "Not those kind of favors!" She paused as she sat. "Although, had I known he and his wife Keri had split up, I might have tried for an audition!" she laughed and then continued, "I do know he's embroiled in a nasty divorce right now ... apparently Keri was a naughty girl, and he caught her out."
Inwardly I cringed.
"I can understand why she'd want to keep him, he's smart and handsome and a damned good attorney, but he's also a bit of a Boy Scout, and he refuses to take her back. So she's resisting."
"Still not too late for that audition it seems."
Grace saw I was teasing and smiled. "Well actually it is ... first of all I would never audition two men at the same time, and I don't think I'm done with you..."
I smiled at her.
"Also, he's apparently already been snagged by a young woman from Ireland."
"Ah, the good ones go quick."
"Damn right they do!" she laughed and then said, "So now he spends his time commuting between Chicago and some fishing village on the south coast of Ireland. He was a partner in a big firm in Chicago that's coming apart right now. He resigned before any of this happened and is cooperating with the DA and the Justice Department while they investigate a couple of the senior partners for corruption, money laundering and a bunch of other things ... Interestingly one of those being investigated is his soon to be ex-wife's lover!" She laughed.
I smiled and said, "So in the midst of this turmoil, he'll have time to see me?"
Grace held up her phone. "That's what the text is about. He'll be back in Chicago tomorrow and can see you on Thursday." She looked at the calendar on her phone. "That's the twenty-sixth. Will that be okay?"
"It was my turn to take her hand as I said, "Thanks Grace. Thursday is fine. He must really owe you, responding to your text on a Sunday."
We left the coffee and the dishes and went back to bed.
The next thing I knew Grace was standing over me and kissing me awake. She was dressed in a pencil skirt and fitted white sweater and as usual smelled delicious. She moved back as I tried to take her into my arms.
"No you don't, Robert Burns. This girl probably won't be able to walk straight for a week and you're not getting that big thing in me again today!"
"Spoilsport!"
"Plus, I do have a plane to catch." This time she bent over me and kissed me very tenderly and said, "I am going to miss you, Robert. You're a fine man, and I'm looking forward to seeing you and Roksana in Dallas soon."
I gathered up my clothes from where they had been flung the night before and, still wearing the robe, I walked Grace to the elevator.
Carrying just a fur jacket and her purse, she gave me one more steamy farewell kiss before she departed. I went down the hall with mixed feelings and a hard on. Grace was more than any man could ask for, but was it too soon? And what about Cecilia? I had promised to see her again. In the meantime, I had things to do.
Wednesday afternoon found me at the Trump International Hotel Chicago. The concierge in New York had made all the arrangements. As an owner of a condo in the Trump Parc, I was upgraded to a suite in the Chicago property. It was damn near as big as my condo in New York and certainly more opulent, and the view of the Chicago River and Lake Michigan was spectacular. Unfortunately the weather was not any better. It was Chicago in the winter after all – and that meant cold and snow. As I watched the snowy streets far below, I vowed to end up in a place that never required me to even own a snow shovel.
The last couple of days had been hectic as I replaced my Burns' New York driver's license - an ordeal that thankfully I would not have repeat for a few years, if ever; met with Grace's painter/decorator Kristine; took possession of my new bed; and made a local charity happy with the donation of Robert Burns' clothing and his practically new but ungodly uncomfortable living and dining room furniture.
Kristine was maybe mid-thirties, tall and slim with raven hair and mischievous dark eyes, and a marvel with a color palette. She quickly picked up on my tastes in colors and furnishings, promising to have the painting completed before I returned. The furniture would take longer and she didn't even blink as I gave her my titanium credit card.
When I checked in at the Trump International, there was a message from Ryan's assistant confirming my appointment for the next day. I had room service dinner, followed by a scotch and went to bed, but not before I called Grace. She was at her home outside Dallas, and the call did nothing to dampen our ardor.
Thursday afternoon found me in a suite of small offices in a modest building in downtown. I had been able to walk there from the hotel, the icy January wind off the lake felt wonderful as I stretched my muscles from my travel the day before. Even first class hardly made up for the overall discomfort and hassle of commercial air travel. Of course the New York area airports elevated hassle and inconvenience to new heights. Maybe Grace had the right idea - I'd have to look into a share in a private plane if I was going to do any extensive travel. Was I? I hadn't thought that far ahead. I wondered what a private jet would cost to Italy.
David Ryan was a handsome man, about my age and height. I had expected his offices to be what? More grandiose I guess. Since he had done work for Grace, I figured he'd be one of those sharks like on TV. That was the farthest from reality as could be. I should have known better considering Grace liked him.
His handshake was firm, and he had a friendly but no-nonsense air about him. I wore a suit. It wasn't custom made but was tailored and expensive. I had two more with me. I didn't know if I was going to have to go before a judge or attend some child-court proceeding, but I wanted to be prepared.
"Mr. Ryan, thank you for taking the time to meet with me, especially on short notice."
He nodded and waved me to a chair in front of his modest wood desk and took a seat. He offered, and I declined refreshments.
"Please call me David. As you know, Grace Atkins is a long time close friend and after reviewing the documents you sent, I can understand why you want to be reunited with your daughter. I'm a little puzzled why you waited so long after getting this report from the PI."
I had prepared myself for this question and replied as I hoped Burns would have, "The fact is when my wife announced she was leaving me for another man ... a man from her past ... a man she was having an affair with ... I was crushed." I watched his face cloud over – just briefly, but I did see the pain of betrayal from his experience.
"Frankly, I fled to New York, trying to put the pain behind me. My wife started playing games with visitation and basically cut off all communication with my daughter. To this day, I don't know why I agreed to relinquish custody, but I've regretted it since. So why did I wait once I found her? This entire situation was like reopening a very deep wound. I wanted her with me, but would she still love me or even accept me? This entire matter brought out all those feelings of loss of my marriage and my child. It was excruciating ... I guess I was terrified of reliving all that happened before. The shipwreck refocused me on what was important. I want my daughter with me, and that's what matters, not my selfish fears."
Ryan looked at me for a few moments and then nodded and said, "I'm not the expert in these matters, I'm primarily a litigator and I do a lot of criminal stuff. One of my partners, Carolyn Peters, has a lot of experience in these types of cases. I've already shared this report and some background with her, and I would like to bring her in on this ... with your permission, of course."
I readily agreed and spent the next hour in a large conference room that looked out over Lake Michigan with Carolyn Peters. She was maybe thirty but exuded an air of confidence and maturity. That helped because she was a tall blonde knockout with amazing green eyes and fantastic legs. She obviously had a thing for David Ryan, but it appeared unrequited. Apparently, the woman in Ireland had captured him heart and soul. I also learned that this firm was only a few weeks old, with a staff of only about a dozen, and still getting settled in its new but more modest offices. Ryan had resigned from his old firm and had gone to Ireland last December but had come back shortly thereafter to divorce his wife and to provide a home for some of the best and brightest from his old firm. He had made it clear that he was no longer interested in working himself to death. So he worked part time and spent the rest of his time in Ireland. I gave Ms. Peters an envelope with $7,000 in cash as a retainer and arranged a direct pay from my working account for any additional billing. At $700 per hour I knew the retainer was not going to last long.
Before I left the conference room, Ms. Peters had arranged a meeting the following Monday for the two of us with Roksana's case worker. She also asked if I would be willing to relocate to Chicago.
"Do you think that'll be necessary?" I asked, thinking about my snow shovel vow.
"Perhaps, at least for a short time. Mr. Burns, courts are loath to give up jurisdiction, especially over a child. I don't see custody as a problem, but if you announce to the court that you are going to remove Roksana to New York ... well, that might be a problem for the courts and the Department of Children and Family Services."
I nodded, thinking about the ramifications of that. I was wealthy enough that I could pack up and move. New York really meant nothing to me, except for Grace of course. I didn't have the knowledge to pick up where Robert Burns left off in the day trading business. I fully intended to start converting his assets to cash before the market swooned again.
"Okay, I can move, then what?"
"Children and Family Services will do a background check on you to make sure you have the means to take care of Roksana. They will also search the database for any criminal record." She looked at me and asked, "Will they find anything?"
I shook my head, but I really didn't know. There was nothing that prevented a new passport from being issued, and I had reentered the US without being notified I was on anyone's "watch list," plus my New York driver's license had just been renewed without incident. I thought Robert Burns was clean. I did wonder if they would have to fingerprint me. James Anderson had no criminal record so no prints would come up showing I was not who I claimed to be, but everything might depend on which data bases they would search. I thought I could depend on an overworked bureaucracy to only do the minimum.
I stared at the top of Carolyn's head admiring her glossy shoulder-length blonde hair as she looked down making notes. I wondered what her story was – other than being in love with David Ryan. More's the pity.
She blushed slightly as she looked up and caught me examining her.
Changing the subject, I asked, "What about the other girl, Airlea Chronis?"
She frowned slightly as she gathered her thoughts. "That's a whole different kettle of fish. She's not your biological child, and the only route for you is through adoption. I think you would definitely have to move to Chicago for that to happen, and get married too." She said the last with a twinkle of humor – the first I'd seen.
"Are you offering?" I asked lightheartedly
She paused, a retort on her red lips, and just looked at me, maybe for the first time seeing beyond the wealthy guy in the suit. "Well, I hardly know you Mr. Burns, but I am free for dinner tonight." She suddenly put her hand over her mouth, perhaps realizing that she was fishing for a date with a client. Not necessarily a breach of the canons of ethics, but it can lead to all kinds of problems, personal and professional.
I smiled and said, "Ms. Peters, I would be honored to have a dinner meeting with you this evening. I'm sure we have lots more to discuss about this case." I found it amusing - letting her off the hook with an offer of a "meeting." "I'm at the Trump. Shall I send a car or do you want to meet? I've heard the restaurant at the hotel is excellent."
She was definitely flustered. I was surprised. A woman of her education, beauty and sophistication must have had many dinner invitations before. Finally she said, "I'll meet you in the lobby at seven."
As so she did. I got many envious looks as I escorted her through the lobby to the elevators and then into the restaurant on the sixteenth floor. I guess that's why it's called "Sixteen." Under her belted trench coat, she was still in her gray lawyer suit, knee-length skirt and fitted jacket over a burgundy blouse, but to me that only made her more alluring. I would have been happy to say she ended up in my bed in the suite several floors above but that didn't happen. We did have a marvelous time though. Carolyn was a terrific dinner companion, who could tell a joke or relate a story about judges or fellow lawyers with humor and excellent timing. The dinner was excellent, the service impeccable, and the nighttime view of the lake spectacular. Although I spent little time enjoying the outside view since the view of my dinner companion was much more spectacular. With the wine and after dinner drinks, I thought it prudent to arrange for a town car to take her home. Plus it was cold and snow threatened. There would be no driving for Ms. Peters tonight. I did get a very pleasant full body hug and a nice, but brief kiss before helping her into the town car, and then a flash of thigh as she slid across the seat. I smiled as I headed back into the hotel and up to my suite. I thought I detected an envious glance from the doorman. I knew it was going to be a pleasure working with Ms. Carolyn Peters.
The next morning after my workout at the hotel's amazingly well-equipped gym, and an hour in the equally amazing pool, I stopped at the concierge and arranged for flowers to be delivered to her office – nothing crazy like roses, but just something nice to remind her that spring will come to snowy Chicago again someday, and that I had enjoyed our dinner. She called and thanked me, and we met for lunch to strategize about our meeting with Rose Johnson, Roksana's case worker. Then Saturday night we had a date – dinner at the restaurant at the Waldorf Astoria followed by a play at the Goodwin Theater. Again Carolyn was a charming companion, and for our date she wore a black sleeveless cocktail dress that definitely highlighted her womanly attributes. We had after theater drinks at a place nearby, and then I reluctantly sent her home again. The goodnight kiss was as long as it was enthusiastic.
I didn't know what to expect when I checked in with Grace. She was amused. Over the phone she quizzed me on my Saturday night activities, and I had to admit I was out with the lawyer who was representing me. Grace called up a photo from Carolyn's old firm's website and said, "Wow!"
I laughed, when she said, "And she's not in your bed right now?"
I admitted I had sent her home.
Grace's response was typical, "She doesn't know what she's missing!"
Cayleigh
- 04.09.2020
- 21
- 0
The Cuckolded Reviewer Part II
- 4 years ago
- 23
- 0
An Arranged Marriage Part XI
- 3 years ago
- 19
- 0
