Insufficiently Sinful Sisters

Desiree stretched catlike, long limbs moving with aching sensuality and back arched, before rolling onto her side and wrapping one long-fingered hand around James's cock, then stroked slowly with her spit slicked hand.

"God woman, are you ever not horny?" asked James, grabbing a pillow where it was perched between the bed and bedside table, thrown there when he'd tossed Dez onto the bed twenty minutes ago, and she'd flailed her arms in mock outrage. He sat up, propping his back with the pillow.

"No, of course not, but I can usually keep my hands to myself. There's just something magnetic about you." Desiree grinned up at him, then when James looked at her she bit her puffy lower lip and looked down demurely.

A weak sense of deja-vu tickled in James's mind, but he dismissed it. It got easier every time. Dez rarely acted shy, but every time she did she reminded him of another girl, another lifetime; a life when a young 17 year-old boy had fallen in love at first sight with a frizzy-haired bookish girl, a girl who had cried on his shoulder when the punk who'd played with her heart got her pregnant. That shy girl had found it in herself to shakily seduce him, and the next morning she was gone. He'd never seen her again, but Dez had that way about her once in a while.

The rest of the time she was the sexiest, most confident woman he'd ever met. Dez didn't take shit from anyone. She never let anyone dismiss her just because she was sex on two legs, and while she didn't have any degrees to prove it, she was one of the smartest people James had ever met too. Since she'd joined his company three years ago she'd come in through the secretarial pool and snagged a VP of Sales and Marketing position in just over two years. That had caught his attention.

At first it seemed obvious. Desiree had fucked, or at least flirted, her way up the corporate ladder. James had some hard questions for his Chief Operations Officer, and a tougher interview for Desiree. He'd gone in prepared to fire both of them. He'd questioned everyone who ever worked with Desiree, and there were jealous rumors about her, but nobody believable had actual dirt on her. His COO's assistant, and closest colleagues, barely knew who Desiree was except as a new surprised hire. Nobody knew anything that could help James.

Then he'd talked to Desiree. Lost an entire work day talking to her, when he'd expected to question her for an hour or two. She knew his operations, and knew people. In fact he could count on one hand the people who knew his business — online and server services — as thoroughly as she proved to him. One of those people was himself, so suffice to say James was impressed. That day James, who had become jaded and embittered about love, had felt a deeper, even soulful, connection that he hadn't since his teens, when he'd been plain James Dawson.

So of course he had a small army of private investigators and lawyers look into Desiree. Other than a few unpaid bills there wasn't really anything suspicious about her. She'd grown up in a town not far from his hometown in Illinois, and then like him had found her way to Milwaukee. Unlike him she'd never found a real home, moving from job to job regularly, even commuting out of the city sometimes to make ends meet. Her grandparents had died when she was in her twenties, and left her money, but she'd never stopped working hard — she had four daughters at home to take care of.

At every job where his investigators could find people who knew her there were rumors about why she'd left. Affairs, angry wives, stealing from a till (never enough to call the cops over though, oh no), even fights with parents at the local school. Few rumors ever matched, and to James it was obvious: Desiree was such a shockingly beautiful, and incredibly competent woman, that everyone had their suspicions about her. She could have been a model if she was a bit taller and less curvy, or an actress, or hell a cam girl or porn star. He wasn't surprised she'd drawn suspicion in dead end jobs, so of course in anything more complex there were even more questions, and questioners. How did someone like that become a manager in three months?

Like him, people first thought she'd played on her looks to get ahead.

Once James knew better he did what had earned him his millions (23 million only counting trusts and accounts — somewhere past 300 once property and investments were included). James went and took what he wanted, using every tool at his disposal.

They'd been dating for nine months now. Nine months, and James wasn't hesitating to take the next step.