The Love Of Money - Episode 286
27-08-25 (10:23)
I texted Henry, Chloe’s on her way with VanCamp.
In truth, Chloe was taking Roger to see the ex-spook,
who was experienced at interrogation. I only hoped
Roger didn’t break too easily. I imagined Psalter- had
some pretty nasty techniques to extract information.
Standing by, Psalter- responded.
“Did you have to antagonize him like that?” Karl asked.
I gave him my best ‘are you stupid?’ look and said,
“He’s lucky I didn’t have Chloe shoot him just so I could
piss in his bullet wound.” Then I turned, headed out the
open door, and passed a very confused Candice.
“Mr. Yunger… is everything okay?” she asked.
“Mr. VanCamp’s leaving the company,” I said as I
headed for the reception door. I stopped in the
doorway and turned to look at her. “Moving forward,
you’ll be working for Helen VanCamp.” I looked at Karl
and said, “Please see to my other requests.” Then I
turned to leave.
“Where are you going?” Karl asked.
“Gotta give Helen the good news,” I said, heading
down the hall. As suspected, Jon aspirated from only
God knew where' and trailed behind me as I kept my
eyes peeled for Helen.
It didn’t take me long to find her emerging from what
looked like one of the restrooms on that floor.
“Marcus!” Helen said. Her cool eyes darted around as if
trying to make sure there was no one else in the
hallway with us. She hadn't expected me here. Her face
was a mask of surprise, dread, and anxiety. “What are
you doing here?”
I stalked toward her, grabbed her by the wrist, and
yanked her into me, catching her around the waist. I
was done with this bullshit. “You work for me,
remember?”
Not giving her a chance to respond, I turned and
practically dragged Helen down the hall, trying the knob
to each room I passed, finding each one locked.
“What—” Helen started to say.
“Shut up,” I snarled as I tried the third room. It opened,
and I peered inside to verify that it was empty. It was,
and the lights were off. Low light shining through half-
closed blinds was the only thing illuminating the room.
I dragged Helen into the vacant room, shut the door
behind her, locked it, and threw her against it. Placing a
hand on either side of her against the cool grain of the
heavy panel, I pinned her in place and stared into those
deep blue eyes. She didn’t move. She barely breathed
as we exchanged gazes, her chest rising and falling
fractionally as I invaded her personal space so
thoroughly that our faces were an inch from each other
at most.
As we stared at each other, I was granted a rare
moment of seeing Helen actually afraid… of me.
“Marcus,” she started to say, and I grabbed her jaw,
forcing her head back against the door and making her
eyes go wide with fright. And then savagely kissed
Helen.
My Helen.
Not Roger fucking VanCamp’s.
Mine.
I spent the next fuck knows how long kissing Helen
VanCamp. It took her all of ten seconds to go from
being a victim of my targeted aggression to being a
willing participant… and then an aggressively active
one. She mewled into my mouth, capturing my bottom
lip between hers as she sucked on it. I took over,
catching her bottom lip between my teeth and tugged
on it before crashing our mouths together as my tongue
sought hers.
After several minutes, I backed away, and lips chased
mine, eyes closed as she hummed, wanting to feel my
lips on hers longer. When I didn’t relent, her eyes slowly
opened, and the fear in those cold blue irises had been
replaced with pools of torrid blue azure flame.
“Marcus,” she whispered, licking her lips as nervousness
flickered across features etched with desire. “What’s
going on? Roger’s in this building.” She pursed her lips,
looking genuinely upset. “He can’t catch you here with
me like this. He’s—”
I grabbed the collar of her shirt and ripped it open in
one fluid motion, hearing the sound of a button as it
flew off her shirt and hit a wall. Helen gasped, and we
both glanced at her chest encased in a pink satin bra. I
hooked my fingers in the wire that ran along the
bottom of the lingerie and hauled it over her C-cup
breasts, enjoying the sight of them as they slipped free
and bounced into place.
Capturing one of her breasts in one hand, I squeezed it,
causing a pale pink nipple to stand to attention as the
pliant flesh succumbed to my grasp. Helen gasped
again as I lowered my head and captured the tiny nub
of erogenous flesh between my lips and sucked hard
on it. Helen arched her back off the door as she
wrapped one arm around me and slid her fingers
through my hair, pressing my face into her breast. “Oh
fuck,” Helen husked. “Marcus!”
Fuck, it was good to hear my name on her lips. I
released her nipple and immediately dove for the other,
repeating my assault for a few minutes as Helen
continued to writhe under me, trapped between me
and the door.
My free hand slipped down, and I placed it on one
stockinged leg, enjoying the silky feel of the hose
encasing her feminine thigh. My palm traveled up,
feeling the stocking end and her actual skin continue,
her skirt coming along for the ride as it was hung on
my wrist. It continued north until I felt a thin string
crossing over the swell of her hip. I hooked a thumb
through it and began dragging it down.
I felt her push on my shoulders and released her nipple
to look up at her. Helen’s eyes were wide and full of
alarm. “Marcus! You can’t—”
I cut her off with another fierce kiss, which she
hummed into, her body going slack. Breaking it off, I
said, “Helen, I haven’t had you in fucking forever. This is
happening.”
“Richard—”
“Do you trust me?” I asked, my tone making it almost
sound more like a command than a question.
She searched my eyes, and I could tell she was
wondering where' this was coming from. I’d acted this
way with Bobbi, but not with her… not with so much at
stake with her husband. “Yes.”
“Then get on your knees and get me ready for you,” I
said, curling my fingers through her golden mane. She
resisted for a brief moment as I tugged on her hair, but
then she slowly dropped to her knees in front of me as
I wound her hair around my fingers and pulled her tight
against my crotch.
Helen hummed and brushed her cheek against my
crotch, feeling my steel-hard cock pressing through the
cloth. I ground it against the side of her face,
anticipating the way her mouth would feel on the
sensitive organ. Helen gave the best head… there really
was no substitute for experience.
The older woman reached up and unbuckled her belt,
casting her eyes up at me as she did so, and I was
rewarded not only with the passionate storm brewing
in her eyes but a look of pure submission. Helen, who
was a force of nature, was submitting to me. It wasn’t
like last time when she was apologizing to me. This
was different. Despite thinking she knew better…
despite the fear of getting caught, she was submitting
to what I wanted. When she met me, I’d been a
scared, naive young man without a clue about the
world I’d just entered. Helen had been the fierce tigress
who thought to manipulate me and lead me around by
my cock. She’d been all-knowing… powerful… I would
have listened to almost anything she said.
Now, the tables had turned, and she was no longer the
one doing the leading.
She opened the fly to my pants and fished out my
engorged rod, her eyes going big as it came into view.
With her blue eyes still fixed on me, she lowered her
lips to my dick and kissed the head. It was a slow,
deliberate kiss, her eyes closing as she savored the
taste and feel of my member, and I could hear a low
moan deep in her throat. Then she did it again, dragging
her lovely lips down the side of my member to trail
wet kisses down it. I watched in fascination as she
encircled her fingers around the base of my cock,
opened her mouth, and dragged her tongue up the
length of my cock.
Near the top—just below the rim of the mushroom
head—she changed course, and I reveled in the sight of
her moist tongue changing direction. The tip curled on
itself as she slowly dragged her tongue back down the
length of my dick until it reached her fingers. Then she
repeated the motion, painting my member with a
generous coating of her saliva as her tongue once again
slid up my member, coating it with lavish amounts of
her spittle. Don't forget to leave a Comment 
