Valentine’s Day was Millington Chase’s favourite time of year. In the evening, he opened his mansion for a group of people selected through to attend a special party.
His business was a small side-line but it gave him an immense amount of pleasure. It was certainly far more fun now than his main company, Maple Heights Investments. That had been causing him quite a few headaches of late.
With deals falling through and endless staffing issues, he was more than disgruntled. Although he’d always thought of retirement as an unpalatable prospect, it was becoming a more favourable solution, day by day.
Millington looked in the mirror and sighed. He still felt like a virile eighteen-year-old but the mirror revealed a sixty-five-year-old grey-haired man, admittedly a handsome one.
He’d lost count of the times he’d been likened to Sean Connery but that uncanny resemblance ensured that there was never a shortage of young pussy. Millington also acknowledged that his large bank balance helped his cause.
In two weeks, his annual sexual extravaganza would be underway, a night of horny frivolity and debauchery. It took Millington a few months of planning, and that included vetting hundreds of online applications submitted to his site, disclosing which fantasies and fetishes his potential guests had.
Millington opened his wardrobe and pulled out a customary black Armani work suit and a crisp white shirt. He thought it had been a stroke of genius to ask people to send in their fantasies as part of the application process. They’d kept him occupied for hours and he found the whole process a perfect way to relax after a trying day at the office.
Dressed, Millington followed his morning routine. Breakfast was a large bowl of muesli with a pile of blueberries on top, accompanied by a cup of the finest filtered coffee. He scanned the news before ringing for his driver.
On his way to work, Millington considered another problem. During the last eight months, he’d been fucking his secretary but he was becoming bored of Philippa. To aggravate the problem, before the weekend she’d asked if there could possibly be something more between them. Her eyebrows had arched above sapphire eyes twinkling in expectation. Millington, in turn, had felt that all too familiar plummet of dread land in the pit of his stomach, his balls contracting with repulsion.
This was what he hated about women: they couldn’t be satisfied. Eventually, they wanted something more than sex, always some commitment. It depressed him, especially as Philippa had promised so much. She’d been working for him for two years before anything happened but, oh boy, hadn’t she known how to tease him. From the moment, Philippa took up her role, Millington felt he had been sporting a permanent erection.
At thirty-two-years-old, Philippa was extremely attractive. Her full lips made her look permanently horny and those lips, eventually, had demonstrated how much she desired Millington. When it came to oral sex, Philippa was a giver.
Millington gazed out of the car window, looking at the familiar hustle and bustle of a London morning. Why was it that some things stayed the same and then others seemingly altered overnight? And why was it invariably the good stuff, like Philippa, that changed?
At work, Philippa teased him by wearing pencil skirts, either black or pinstriped. Millington had a thing for pinstripe; he also liked stockings and suspenders and Philippa obliged on that score, too. Truthfully, if Millington had thought he could get away with it, he would’ve insisted that all his female employees wore above-the-knee tight skirts, black patent leather high heels, and fitted white blouses revealing a hint of cleavage.
Millington didn’t like anything obvious. He hated mini-skirts. He wanted women to look demure with a slight hint of horny. Thinking about being surrounded by women dressed in his favourite uniform, Millington felt himself harden. Maybe he should fuck Philippa to get rid of this morning arousal before he told her that a serious relationship was not on his agenda.
Millington nodded to himself.
