Chapter 162: The Last Job
These days, the Whitmore family no longer carried the radiance of their past. No matter how hard they tried, their business had been shrinking steadily for years. With the downfall came difficult choices. They were forced to let go of their long-time, experienced staff, replacing them with underpaid, inexperienced workers.
Only a handful of employees now operated the vast estate... none of whom dared speak up or question anything.
From the master bedroom upstairs came the unmistakable sounds of passionate sex. William Whitmore had always been loud in bed. He delighted in hearing his lovers scream beneath him... something that gave him a sick kind of satisfaction, one that no business triumph could rival.
Ironically, the older he got, and the weaker his body became, the more he craved those cries.
To satisfy this craving uninterrupted, he had instructed the house staff never to enter the first floor unless explicitly summoned. Everyone knew what was happening upstairs, but no one dared to intervene in their employer’s "private affairs."
These days, William was thoroughly infatuated with his secretary, Lydia Barker. She knew exactly how to please both his body and ego... something Jeanne, his wife, had never managed. Recently, Lydia had developed a new obsession... she wanted to make love in his own bed.
William understood the symbolism. For Lydia, it was a show of possession, a desire to claim him not just as a lover, but as hers. A woman always wants to cling to her man. And so, whenever he had the chance, he invited her to the estate.
As his secretary, Lydia’s visits raised no eyebrows. And she never asked for gifts, trips, or attention. She was content simply to be with him... in his bed. With his rapidly declining income, William found her low-maintenance needs refreshingly economical.
With a loud grunt, William collapsed onto her body, then rolled to the side, leaving Lydia’s voluptuous figure stretched across the bed. She sat up slowly, her breasts swaying slightly with the movement, her thin waist curving like it was carved by an artist.
William stared at her in awe. Her face might not have matched Jeanne’s in her prime, but the rest of her body... God, it was perfect! His desire flared again, but his aging body couldn’t keep up. All he could do was devour her with his eyes.
"William," Lydia purred, "relax. I’ll give you a massage."