The Estate Community Prologue

Prologue

**Note: This is a slow burn build up. Feel free to skip the prologue and move straight to Part 1, where the action truly begins.**

To start the story, I'll give a little bit of background on myself. I'm the son of an oil tycoon and two weeks after I turned 25 my father passed away. At the funeral, my wife and I were stunned to learn that my father had left the company to me. This was unexpected, as he never gave any indication that he wanted me to take up his empire; I always figured he would just pass leadership to the next man down the ladder.

And because this never occurred to me, I wasn't very much prepared to inherit the responsibility. My wife Lauren and I had been married for a while and we were already on a different life trajectory. I was a radio station manager and she worked nights as a waitress after spending the day as a stay-at-home mom (more on that later). But, when we learned what came along with the deal of inheriting the company, we agreed that accepting a career change was an opportunity we could not pass up.

Growing up I always resented what wealth did to people. It made people greedy and detached from others, and it turned those around them into shameless users and leeches. As a result, I refused to live off my father's money. My wife accepted and supported my moral philosophy and we tried to make it our own way. But, we knew things were always going to be tough.

When I married Lauren, she was already the mother of four children before she turned 21. I know what you're thinking. What in the hell kind of trashiness is this? And it is true, the children were born out of a toxic prior relationship from her youth that she was only barely able to escape. Her high school boyfriend had knocked her up when she was 16, and when her daughter Kylie was born, her boyfriend proposed (despite only being 18 and Lauren 17) to try and vow to change his irresponsible ways. But, he never did, and in between cheating on her and leaving her, only coming back repeatedly when his other options were spent, he knocked her up twice more. A year later, they had twins Addison and Dixie, and three years later their youngest Hayden when Lauren was 20.

I met her through mutual friends right as things were getting particularly messy between her and her fiance, and was able to convince her to leave him and file a restraining order. She and her kids would never hear from him again, and as a thank you she agreed to let me take her out on a date. We quickly fell in love, as she was caught off guard by my chivalry and patience and support for her, and we married a couple years later at the young age of 22.

From then on I have loved Lauren with a fervent passion, not only for her grace but for her beauty. She was a 5'8" bombshell brunette with long, full hair, pale, creamy smooth skin, long legs, fleshy thighs, and a plump, natural ass that swayed effortlessly when she walked.

But her best attributes were undoubtedly her breasts. She already had a legendary reputation in her social circles for her tits, and that was even before her prior pregnancies. In high school everyone had called her Tongus Mitties (she never picked up on the 'mongus titties wordplay), which she grew the second she hit puberty. After her first few pregnancies, her tits swelled up even more and never shrunk back down after giving birth. She carried natural 34 F cup beauties. I'll never forget seeing them bare for the first time, the night of our wedding. Slightly freckled, plump with utterly no sag. Areolas as big as saucer plates and as dark as pepperoni, and thick, pencil eraser nipples.

They may have been the most perfect pair of breasts on earth. Why she settled for a 5'9" scrawny schmuck like me I'll never know, but I always thank God that she did. I accepted and welcomed my new role as stepfather to her daughters and loved them as if they were my own, which clearly made Lauren swoon. Given her beauty, it was already clear to me that her little ladies were bound to grow up and become stunners of their own, and it was up to me to beat away all the boys that would inevitably come hounding them.

When I saved up enough money to buy us a modest sized home, Lauren expressed her undying appreciation by promising me that as soon as our finances were more stable, she would make me a real father to children of our own. Until then, we agreed to use diligent protection when we had sex. Our sex life was quite healthy and vigorous, but always involved condoms and birth control. We took no chances, as we certainly were in no financial place to risk a fifth mouth to feed. From that day forward I fantasized relentlessly at the idea, first about what it would feel like to slide into my wife completely bare, feeling her steamy warmth in full intimate detail for the first time. I admit I masturbated relentlessly to this thought, while never tiring for Lauren whenever she beckoned.

And second, I fantasized about the day when I could see her carrying a baby bump, seeing her breasts swell, seeing the stretch marks appear on her soft, pale skin, and knowing the baby was mine.

Then, three years later, my father passed away, and to our baffled but pleasant surprise, his lawyer revealed to us that he wanted to leave the company to me. This meant all of his wealth, including his plantation estate over in Alabama (which he had bought with my mother after I graduated high school), and all of his other assets.

On one condition: I must now run the company. No sitting passively on a mountain of wealth. I actually had to work for it. Keep the company afloat. Per his lawyer's words, he had listed his wealth and assets more as a lease than an actual gift, and should I at any point resign myself from the company or relieve myself of any of the responsibilities of running the company, his gift would be revoked; all his possessions seized and sold at an auction.

This, of course, created one particular snag: The company was in Texas, but the estate was in Alabama. So, our family would have to stay in Alabama while I stayed in Texas to fulfill my duties to the company. Lauren would have to quit her job and live as a full-time stay at home mom, doing upkeep on the house while caring for the kids. This, however, still seemed perfectly reasonable given all the perks so I happily accepted, ecstatic at the new life and possibilities that were offered to my family, and we relocated from our modest two-bedroom house in Texas to the 24-room mansion in Mountain Brook, Alabama.

When we first arrived and settled in, as a family we were baffled by the scale and the grandiosity. Lauren and I took the master suite, which took up an entire third of the top floor of the house, equipped with an Alaskan King bed (the largest bed size a retailer provides), a walk-in shower the size of a small bathroom, a jacuzzi, a sauna, and a deck that wrapped around the entire upper floor of the house. We then gave each of our children a bedroom of their own. Well, except for Dixie and Addison, who we wanted to stay together to foster their togetherness bond as identical twins. But Kylie, at this point already 9 years old, was happy to finally seize her own room, and Hayden, still only 5, cautiously accepted the newfound independence.

At this point, we marveled at the remaining majesty of the house. On the second floor, there was a den, outfitted like a movie theater with reclining seats, a projector and retractable screen, and surround sound speakers. On the first floor were billiards rooms, poker rooms, lounges, and outside a retractable porch roof that could close over the pool deck. We took stock of the twenty unused bedrooms, all fully furnished and thus seeming creepily silent due to their lack of occupants.

We immediately agreed on one course of action, which was to hire a full-time nanny and maid to assist my wife in keeping the house together while I was away. To sweeten the deal, we offered alongside the position the benefit of moving one's entire family into the house to stay with us and live as if one of the family. With this key detail in the ads, the applications came soaring in, and we finally settled on the best candidate: a Colombian immigrant, Ines, who was a single mother and asked to bring her daughter, Sofia, who was her only family. Ines was a veteran maid of over fifteen years, serving wealthy families all over the county, and had taught her daughter Sofia the trade of nannying so that they could work together as mother and daughter. They were ecstatic at the selection and promised diligent work ethic for as long as we would have them.

Thus, it was settled: Ines would assist Lauren with housework and Sofia would help tend to the little ones. They each took separate rooms on the bottom floor of the house.

I couldn't help but marvel at their familial beauty: Ines was 34 but didn't look a day over 25, with long black hair that, even tied up in a ponytail, reached down to her lower back, and voluptuous DD breasts. Her complexion was flawless, with smooth, youthful olive skin that rivaled my wife's, a testament to her Colombian genetics, and she bashfully admitted she was frequently mistaken as her daughter's older sister. This was because Sofia was, aside from a smaller bosom and more shapely ass, nearly identical to her mother in looks at the age of 19. When they were hired, Lauren gave me a side eye and elbowed me in the ribs, jokingly warning me not to try anything or even stare too much, as she wanted all my affection focused on her.

For the first year of our life in our new home, life was bliss. Ines and Sofia quickly became like family and, at Lauren's and my encouragement, made themselves at home whenever there was no work to be done. I frequently caught myself peeking at the two of them when they would lounge in their tiny bikinis by the pool, and goaded Lauren to join them as much as possible; Lauren herself owned bikinis that were quite skimpy, and I could never get enough of the sight of her juicy tits spilling out of the strained fabric of her top or her ass swallowing up her thong bottom and jiggling with every step she took. The sight of the three of them together stirred some incredible fantasies in my brain.

Lauren transitioned into a housewife quite effortlessly thanks to all of the wealth and comfort. She donated all of her work clothes and replaced them with loungewear: yoga pants, spandex tops, workout clothes, gym shoes, sandals, and pajamas.

The sight of her living a pampered life--laying out by the pool, sitting in the hot tub, doing her nails in the living room, taking long baths in the master suite--made my insides roar with pride. I made an internal vow to spoil her as well as our daughters as much as I possibly could. She had escaped her toxic and trashy prior life thanks to me. And now, I was watching her transform into the princess I knew she deserved to be.

I would spend the week working in Texas, and receive loving updates from Lauren as she tended to the little ones and the house chores with Ines and Sofia, bonding quickly with them and becoming almost like sisters. Then, I would fly home on a private jet every Friday evening and join my family for weekend bonding. Lauren would always devour me as soon as I walked in the door, starved for attention and intimacy after the long week.

At her demand we always had to have sex right away; I still can't believe I married such a minx! The sex was, per usual, incredible, except I ached to feel her insides with my bare cock--we both agreed to keep using protection until we got all our new affairs fully settled.

As I took stock of my life I considered myself the luckiest man on earth. I had three gorgeous women strutting around the house all around me, and four darling little girls growing up before my very eyes. Every week at work was hell, as running an oil empire is no small task. But every weekend made up for it in spades. I could not have been happier because, for my family, life was perfect.

Until my mother passed away, and Hank entered our lives. Then, everything changed.