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Man of the House(11)

By:B. B. Hamel


As I headed toward my head of security’s office, I kept thinking about the way Emily was looking at me. She was practically begging for me, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. I pictured my cock pressing between those pretty lips, sliding down her throat, making her gag. I bet she could suck cock like it was breathing, and I wanted to see her pretty body down on her knees in front of me, doing whatever I told her to do.

I had to stop in front of a window for a second, opening it up to breathe in the cool night air. My cock was fucking rock hard and I couldn’t go into a meeting with my head of security with a fucking hard-on. I needed to get a fucking grip.

It wasn’t like me getting all fucking crazy about some girl. I’d been with plenty of women with nice bodies, some of them models, some of them just wet and begging for it. I didn’t get my playboy reputation for no reason. But I’d never before gotten hung up on a girl like apparently I was getting hung up on Emily. I just couldn’t get her out of my head, no matter how hard I tried. She could easily be the fucking downfall of everything that I was trying to achieve, and yet I just kept picturing her down on all fours, ass in the air, dripping wet pussy begging to get fucked.

I took a few more deep breaths and counted to ten. By the time I hit zero, I was decent enough. I shut the window and quickly hurried to Cox’s office, trying not to get all fucking excited again.

I knocked once then opened the door. Cox was sitting behind his desk when I entered, looking gravely worried, which wasn’t unusual at all. Cox was in his forties, an ex Special Forces guy with a buzz cut and a bunch of tattoos. I liked him a lot, though I didn’t really know him all that well. He took his job as the head of security very seriously and did it well without any complaints, and so I paid him a ton to keep him around. Since my place constantly had so many guests and was so big, I needed full-time security like him and a few of his guys.

“How’s it going?” I asked him.

He grunted. “Fine.”

I took a seat in front of his desk. “You sounded worried over the phone. What happened?”

“We got a letter, sir.”

“Dispense with the ‘sir’ shit for one night, will you?”

He ignored me, like he always did, and produced a letter. I took it from him and slowly skimmed it as he spoke.

“Basic threatening letter, sir. We don’t usually bother you with them since we get maybe one or two every week and they never pan out. This one is different.”

“It’s specific,” I said, noticing right away.

“That’s right. It’s very specific.”

The letter said that basically they were going to bomb my office if I didn’t step down from Valor Tech. They said I had a week before the bombing would happen.

I saw a few of the crazy letters back before I hired Cox full-time. They were usually much more general about their threats. Normally it was along the lines of, “I’m going to kill you with a tire iron, you cock sucking faggot” and “Go fuck yourself, you cunt bitch, I’ll cut your throat and dance on your grave.”

People that write these letters aren’t really very nice, but they were harmless. Usually, at least. Cox checked them out if they left a name and a return address, and normally they were just disgruntled rednecks looking to blame someone else for their problems. Sometimes, though, they were seriously deranged, and Cox would keep an eye on those people.

“What should we do about this?” I asked him.

“I’m passing it along to a buddy of mine in the force, sir,” he said. “Hopefully he can help.”

“You think the cops can do something you can’t?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged and didn’t look convinced. “I would avoid your office on this day, just to be safe.”

I smiled at him, handing him back the letter and standing. “Cox, I can’t let a bunch of crazy assholes dictate how I live my life.”

“Whatever you say, sir.”

“Good night. Thanks for showing me this.”

“Of course.”

I nodded and left, suddenly feeling exhausted. I’d been working on a heuristic problem around how my little AI drone was going to identify humans when I decided to see Emily. Now, I was well and truly exhausted, and realized that I wasn’t going to get any more work done.

I headed back to my wing of the house. The place was unusually quiet, since there weren’t as many guests in the house at the moment. I didn’t want to risk anything with some strangers catching me and Evelyn sleeping in separate rooms or some shit, so I figured we could empty the place out for a couple months. The house felt empty, though, which was strange.