He probably shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, thought Michael Lee as he walked through the hotel lobby. But he couldn't help but feel a little strange that the acquisition he set up had gone so smoothly. He had girded himself for a tough negotiation: the company was small, but was sitting on plenty on profitable patents. And to date, they had been resistant to all offers. But they seemed almost eager to sell to Michael, practically falling all over themselves to accept his first offer.
He almost felt bad. He knew that their company was worth a lot more than his first offer, and was prepared to be much more generous. Then again, he thought, he didn't become a billionaire by missing out on opportunities to pay less for things.
This was his role, anyway: the hard business side of TMRWTech. His best friend from University Fred was the face of the company; the guy with the Twitter account hyping up the stock and talking about tech that doesn't exist yet. Michael was the one who coded the original app that made them rich, and he's the one who's been guiding their company's growth, acquiring startups with exciting, potentially profitable tech, and integrating them in TMRWTech's growing umbrella of services.
But still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something unusual had happened. And when he thought about it, he had to admit that he'd been feeling a little different over the last couple of weeks. He felt more confident somehow, and clearer-headed. Things have been a little strange with his wife, Joanna, too. His sex drive has been off the charts, which he thought might be a problem. He loved his wife, but their sex life had never been much more than a weekly affair; less when things got hectic with the company. They were still in their twenties, but they had long settled into a comfortable rhythm that was often much more about them working together as COO and CFO of TMRWTech than about having hot, steamy sex. And though Michael always thought that things could be better, he didn't think he was ever unsatisfied with their partnership.
But in the last couple of weeks, Michael often him unusually horny. And much to his surprise, his wife was always open to his advances. She had grown up in a conservative Korean family, and her upbringing was reflected in their lovemaking. She would turn bright pink from embarrassment whenever they got intimate, as if she could never get used to idea of being naked with someone. But recently, though they have yet to do anything out of the ordinary, sex with her has felt different. She'd stare into his eyes with a hunger he'd never seen before, a desire that he thought she'd be too ashamed to ever express.
The thought of it made his cock twitch, and he started thinking all the things he was going to do to his wife and he got up to their hotel room. A ping from his phone broke him out of the fantasy. A text from Joanna:
"Moved rooms. Go to 3701. Get a new key card at reception."
There was a part of Michael that wondered why his wife had moved rooms, but it was a distant echo in the back of his mind, drowned out by his need to get up there to fuck his wife.
***
Michael stepped out of the elevator and found only one set of double doors in the whole hallway. Clearly, this floor was reserved for some sort of luxury suite, which was the sort of thing that Michael and Joanna had never indulged in. Though they could certainly afford it, it always seemed like too much room for the two of them.
Michael waved the key card in front of the locked and it beeped open. He opened the door to an entryway that was in itself as big as an average hotel room. Light music was playing over speakers that seemed to be all over the space.
"Joanna?" he called out. He opened another set of doors and found himself in the suite's main space, a lavishly appointed living area with a wall of glass on the opposite side, opening out to a private balcony with a small swimming pool. On other side were doors leading to what must be several bedrooms. In the middle of the space was a large sectional couch in white leather around a glass coffee table that looked like a piece of modern art. There was at least enough seating for twenty people, but there were only two seated at the moment. One was his wife Joanna. The other was a striking woman of Indian descent that he did not recognize. Joanna was wearing a large, fluffy hotel robe, and the woman was in a little black dress that showed off her long, toned legs and graceful shoulders. She looked to be in her late twenties, but had a hardness in her eyes thet suggested older. In spite of all the open space, Joanna sat closely beside this unknown woman, her body turned towards her in rapt attention. Her expression was placid, maybe even a bit happy.
"Ah, you're here," the woman said, with an accent that implied status.
Michael walked to them, not saying anything.
"I hope you don't mind me moving you two from the junior suite," she said. "I am accustomed to having more space for my activities."
Michael looked at his wife, who wasn't saying a word, and was keeping her eyes on the woman. Something was clearly off, but Michael thought it best to keep up a poker face until he had a better grasp of the situation. He took a seat across from the woman, who smiled at him.
"I admire your composure, Mr. Lee," the woman said. "I'm told others in your position haven't been as calm."
"Well, thank you, I suppose," Michael said. "Now, please can we get to the point where you tell me who you are, and what you're doing here?"
The woman's mouth curled up into a wry grin. "Very well," she said. "I am Priti Mannar, and I am just like you."
"Like me?" Michael said.
"A billionaire."
Michael scanned his memory, trying to remember if he'd met her before, or if he'd even heard her name. Surely, he'd remember someone like her.
"I'll save you the trouble," she said. "We've never met. And you've probably never heard of me. My fortune was made in Indian telecoms, though you're probably more familiar with my business partner Sunil Singh."
His brow furrowed. He knew of Singh, of course: the richest man in India, the man behind Singh Telecoms. "And what does that have to do with any of this?"
"Everything, Michael. Do you mind if I call you Michael?"
"I do mind, but I don't think that means much to you," he replied, his tone even.
Priti gave a bell of a laugh. "I think I am going to enjoy being your friend, Michael."
"That's a bit presumptuous, Priti," he said, putting emphasis on the name.
"Now, now, don't be angry Michael. Please excuse the dramatics, but life can be so boring sometimes." Priti rose to her feet and approached him, her stride soft, but deliberate. Joanna's eyes followed Priti as she walked to Michael, her expression never changing. Priti sat right beside him and wrapped an arm around his. She leaned into him, and he could her perfume, and feel the soft swell of her breasts against his elbow. And it was then he realized that the urge to fuck had not died down within him, even with all that has happened.
"What is this? What have you done to my wife?" Michael finally asked, through his haze of arousal.
"I'm welcoming you to a very exclusive club, Michael." Priti said. "As to what I've done to your wife, I am simply demonstrating the benefits of membership."
Priti leaned in closer, her body now fully pressing against his side. Then, with her head on his shoulder, she addressed his wife. "Joanna, stand up."
Joanna obeyed, a blissful expression washing over her face as she did.
"Take off your robe," Priti said. Joanna untied the sash and let the robe fall off of her, revealing her naked body. Michael was speechless as he tried to process what was going on. And at the same time, he felt his cock grow hard at the sight of his wife being so obedient, so openly sexual in front of others.
"Kneel," Priti said, with a tone that suggested that it was something she said regularly. Joanna dropped to her knees, and she smiled happily as she did it. Michael noted the wetness between her legs, a trickle crawling down her naked thigh.
Priti brought her face close to his ear, while her hand gently brushed against the hardness in his trousers. "Do you believe in conspiracy theories, Michael?" she asked. "Stuff like, billionaires secretly running the world?"
