Josh Richards was ready to attend college at Texas A&M next fall. He lived in a small town in northern Alabama. He had his own business and his own money, which would pay for part of his tuition to college. He started a lawn care business when he was twelve. By the time he was eighteen, he had his own used pickup truck and a 14 ft. trailer for lawn mowers, trimmer, and other equipment.
Josh took care of the yards of many people in town mostly for people too busy or too lazy to do it themselves. He cut the lawn, trimmed the hedges, and fertilized everything. He charged a good rate, not too high, but pricey.
All that exercise plus participation on the track team in high school left Josh with a pretty ripped body. He was six foot tall with a head full of thick black hair and a well-tanned body. He was fairly popular in school, at least. He was not on the nerd list. He'd had a few dates.
Josh dated a few of the local girls. There were a few real pretty ones, and some others, not really worth mentioning. None of them would let Josh get his cock wet. He was too shy to try. So they all maintained their status as virgins.
Some of the guys Josh ran with were getting some, but it was with slutty half ugly (they called them slugs) girls. They held no attraction for Josh at all. In school they were taught that promiscuous women and men spread syphilis and gonorrhea. Josh was scared enough of STDs to stay away from the slugs. So the extent of Josh's sexual development at this time consisted of a large box of Playboy magazines in a closet, a small can of Crisco vegetable shortening, and a supply of paper napkins.
Every Saturday Josh worked over at the Jackson estate, a huge two story brick mansion which could not have been any less than 10000 square feet, on 24 acres of professionally landscaped grounds with tall pines and huge live oaks. There was a huge pool surrounded by an expensive privacy fence. The place had azaleas and hydrangeas all over the place, plus scads of other plant life carefully arranged in perfect beds. The Jackson account was his largest. Bob Jackson paid Josh $5500 a year to keep the place immaculate.
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Everyone in town knew Bob Jackson. He was a wealthy business man. He owned two convenience stores, a car wash, the Ford dealership, The John Deere dealership, and farmed 6500 acres he owned outside of the small Alabama town. The guy was loaded.
Of course, Mr. Jackson didn't work. He reaped the rewards. He was smart and he did keep an eye on the books. He hired expert managers and let them do the work. Mostly he rode around town in an expensive new pickup truck or sometimes in a new tricked out Lexus.
Most of this was inherited by Mr. Jackson from his father, Judge Roy Jackson, a well-known Vietnam fighter pilot, who came home with a chest full of medals. Roy Jackson's father Carl Jackson was a poor cotton farmer who never owned a suit of clothes. Carl was a frugal man and had some money in a sock under the mattress. When Carl died, shortly after Roy's triumphant return as a veteran, Roy took the small amount and invested it in the stock market. Things went well, apparently, because within a year, Roy Jackson started to buy small businesses around town. Some said he made a lot of money on bootleg moonshine. Pretty soon he was very successful businessman. No one seems to know how he became a Judge but he did, getting more and more powerful in the county. Then Roy had a heart attack and died. This left Bob Jackson a very wealthy man.
What Bob Jackson did was drive around town and spread a lot of bullshit. His car or truck could often be found parked in the backyard of some house occupied by some housewife. Twice a week, he showed up at the local barber for a manicure and a trim, passing out cigars to anyone who would take one, sipping from a flask he carried in his vest pocket. Inside the flask was his beloved 18 year old Scotch. In short, Bob Jackson lived the life of the rich and idle.
With all Bob's money, many privileges that come with it. After tom catting around the county for many years, and his 30th birthday approaching fast, Mr. Jackson decided to settle down, take a bride.
Bob found what he wanted at an Alabama State football game in the form of one Erica James. A student at Alabama, she was a small town girl from north Alabama, who was visiting for the game. She was a Homecoming Queen, 5' 7" inches tall, a slim delicate waist line, long athletic legs, ample breasts, soft unblemished skin and the face of an angel framed by long brunette tresses. Erica James could have won any beauty contest and might have become a model if she had never met Bob.
Bob Jackson began to charm her. Bob dazzled Erica James with his gift for gab. He made sure to let her know how hefty his bank account was, and after the game, he followed her back to her home town on the pretext of business in the adjacent town. He bought her clothes, took her to Nashville and Atlanta. He bought her a new red Corvette. Erica was impressed by Mr. Jackson's generosity as most small town girls would be.
After only 10 weeks Bob Jackson convinced Erica James to be his wife. They were married in a huge ceremony in her hometown at the same church she had been baptized. Most of the town had been invited and no expense was spared at the reception. Bob Jackson rented the largest facility in town and spent a small fortune decorating it with flowers imported fresh from California. Champagne flowed like water and the cake was flown in from New York.
The new Mrs. Jackson was overwhelmed. When the wedding was over and the rice was still in both their hair, the couple flew to Paris, France. Bob Jackson soon found out, to his satisfaction, he had married a virgin. He was shocked, but none the less, pleased. Pervertedly, Bob saved the blood stained sheet that bore the proof of Erica's virginity. "I might want to show this off to the boys down at the VFW sometime."
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The newlywed couple settled down to a quiet life in the little Alabama town where Bob Jackson lorded over the town like a feudal king. Erica spent money, never having any before, like water. She quickly made friends with many of the young ladies her age, and took them with her on shopping trips to Birmingham and Nashville, buying anything she wanted. Her credit card had no limit. She bought thing for her friends also. This made her very popular in the local social scene.
Erica Jackson soon found out that a life with Bob would include lots of time spent having sex. Being the more experienced of the two, (Erica having none) Bob began Erica's sexual education. Up until her wedding night, Erica's only experience with the opposite sex was kissing and some clothed fondling of her breasts out at Lover's Lane with her boyfriend.
Bob taught her all the different positions people could use to fuck. He gave her a copy of Kamasutra, and they began to try as many positions as they could. He fucked her all over the bed, in the kitchen, on the balcony, in the shower, and he even fucked her out on the lake in his bass boat, in broad daylight, no less. He delighted to have her suck his cock on the grand terrace of their mansion in the moonlight.
Bob showed Erica how to proficiently suck his cock and lick his balls. He even introduced her to porn so she could learn to suck his cock like a porn star. He put a big sixty inch Smart TV on the wall at the foot of their king sized bed, so they could watch internet porn. Erica was revolted by the thought of watching porn. However, she was determined to be a good wife. She watched it and learned to suck Bob's cock like a porn star.
Bob delighted in buying sexy lingerie for his wife. He spent hours on the computer, pouring over sexy photos at Fredrick's of Hollywood and Victoria's Secret. He bought his wife every style and color bra and panties they offered, as well as babydolls, teddies, corsets, bustiers, and kimonos. The swim suits he bought her were shameful. His wife was hot. She had the body of an angel, and he wanted her dressed just for him.
Erica found out she liked sex. She liked sex a lot, but seldom had orgasms with Bob. Bob was a randy old goat, who might fuck her three times in one night. Wham, bam, thank you, mam. was Bob's policy. Bob Jackson was only concerned with his own orgasm. As soon as he got his, and he got it quickly, he either wanted a glass of scotch, a sandwich, or to sleep.
Bob loved to have Erica labor all over his cock and lick his balls into frenzy. He tried to get her to tongue his asshole, but she disgustedly refused. He seldom returned the favor. When he did, he was not a very enthusiastic lover. Bob usually tired of it before doing Erica much good. Cunnilingus wasn't Bob's thing.
Bob also tried to introduce his new bride to the pleasures of anal intercourse. Erica would not allow that. It frightened her more than disgusted her. Bob had shown her how it was done in porn movies, and she was intrigued, but she was too shy to attempt it. Normal people would not do that, she thought.
Bob loved to wake Erika up at 6 am, the time he normally started his day, only to have her give him head. Then Erica was allowed to go back to sleep. Bob always insisted Erica swallow his cum, and swallow she did. He called it her daily nutrition.
Through pornography, Erica learned a woman could please herself, if needed, so, one by one, she filled a drawer full of dildos and vibrators. When Bob was away, attending to his affairs, she pleasured herself with these aids, extracting multiple orgasms on many lazy afternoons. Erica always made sure never to run out of batteries. She also made sure her private interludes were not known by Bob. Only she had knowledge of how she pleased herself.
Erica Jackson insisted that she and Bob attend Sunday services regularly, without fail. She also made sure Bob Jackson was one of the most generous to tithe at the Oak Grove Baptist Church.
Erica took up tennis, making Bob build a court on the property. She and her friends played for hours, the exercise sculpting her already flawless body. Afterward, she and her friends drank mint juleps on the terrace.
Erica also made Bob build a huge Olympic pool on the estate, surrounded by an elaborate privacy fence. Beside the pool, a building was constructed that included a jacuzzi, a sauna, showers, and private dressing rooms. She and her girlfriends spent countless hours splashing and giggling as they swam nude in the pool after a tennis match, afterwards basking nude in the sun to tan their youthful bodies. Erica kept sunscreen in the pool house by the case. Erica and her friends never knew that Bob Jackson took photographs of them all from an upstairs window with a long range digital camera.
Erica also never knew that her husband secretly filmed himself and his wife making love in their bedroom. While the newlyweds were in Paris on their honeymoon, Bob arranged to have a technician install an elaborate system of high quality cameras to film his exploits from every angle. Bob had only to flip a hidden switch in the bathroom to begin recording. He always made love to his wife with the light on.
The years went by. Erica became accustomed to the money, the cars, and the jewelry. She made her husband hire a maid to clean the house and a chef was brought in from New Orleans to prepare all the meals. She never lifted a finger at anything that did not interest her. The maid, named Miss Collene, picked up after her and made sure her laundry was done and put away. She was a pampered princess, and she belonged to Bob Jackson. She had no complaints.
Life had begun to get boring. She tried starting a social club. She invited all the right people, the minister's wife, and the wives of all of Bob's important business partners. They sat around and gossiped and talked of their kids. Miss Collene served finger sandwiches ant sweet iced tea. Her friends, almost all young mothers, were all wrapped up in T ball, violin lessons, Sunday school classes, diapers, and sore nipples. It didn't bother her at first. She and Bob had agreed not to have any children right away. Bob didn't want her figure spoiled by pregnancy, and Erica was having too much fun spending Bob's money. Erica went on the pill a month before the wedding.
