It all started when I was 18 and decided that instead of spending time with the stupid, boring and downright disgusting boys my own age, that I'd seduce my father's business partner instead. On some random Tuesday near the end of the school year, I had walked from school to the office and discovered my father was out at a meeting, but could I wait in the partner's office instead? Of course I could. It wasn't really anything special -- I can't remember the details to be honest, but one thing led to another, and I was sucking the cock of a much older man from beneath his desk in a room that smelled like leather and pledge spray.
He was just the first of many. When I got bored, or just needed something to do, it was always the attention of a forbidden man or a stranger that would set me right again. Of course, the business partner felt guilty for cheating on his spouse and said he wanted to end things -- four or five times before it really stuck for him -- but his wife and my father never found out, and they went on to become enormously successful anyway.
Once he really called it quits, the next week when my mother was having her kitchen remodeled, I lost my virginity to the contractor's assistant in the back of his Ford F-150 parked behind the house. His name was Chris, or John, something generic like that. We carried on for a few weeks until the project was finished, sneaking away every couple of days where I'd ride him hard and fast while his massive arms fully encircled my waist, pulling me down onto him with the same urgency I felt to get out of that town.
Through the end of high school and through college, there were rendezvous with football players in locker room showers after hours, random hookups in the back of clubs I got into with my fake ID, and of course the guy in the room next to mine in the dorm freshman year. At the same time, my father continued to get even wealthier and more successful, and with it came the attention from the paparazzi, and from everyone else. Suddenly, my every move was being watched and my proclivity for sneaking around with boys in dark corners suddenly became a very real problem for my folks. My junior year, two friends and I rented an apartment off campus because the dorms at school could no longer keep everyone out -- a few times, we had hastily scrawled notes on our dorm with rape or death threats.
The apartment was my haven for a while, and I was able to continue my sexual exploits as usual; mostly, public dalliances were off the table, but I got very good at sneaking boys in through the back of my building. Until one night, I met a man who told me his name was Adam, and he was a music producer downtown. We danced all night, shooting tequila and sneaking to the bathroom for the occasional bump. By 4 AM, I was too crossfaded to stand straight, and my roommates wanted to bring me home. They tell me that Adam freaked out and wanted to come with us, and a fight ensued. The next afternoon I woke up to find my roommate's boyfriend had a black eye and a broken wrist, and that a police report had been filed against Adam. When the investigation came back, it turned out the creep had a shrine or something in his bedroom closet to me and my family. Yuck.
That was the final straw, and my parents gave me a choice: either move home and commute to school from their heavily guarded home or hire private security to keep tabs on me. There was no way I could give up my freedom, so they hired a driver and they hired Caleb.
I got home from class one day and a man with dirty blonde hair wearing a dark suit was crouched under my bed with a flashlight. I screamed at him, and he stood. Towered, more like it, at 6' 3" to my 5' 5", and introduced himself as Caleb, the bodyguard.
"You can't just go through my stuff, get out of my room," I snapped at him.
He told me he was doing a thorough security check of the apartment, and he turned back to the bed. I saw him push a pair of my favorite lace panties to the side. He didn't even flinch or pretend to be embarrassed or apologetic. Jerk.
