Billionaire's Pleasure-Chapter 150: New Character- Secret Desires
Victoria’s POV
"Hey. Can you tell me what you’re currently reading?" Jackson Hynes enquired.
By this time, Jackson had been my spouse for the past eleven years. But for all that time, he had only now just discovered one of my secret pleasures; reading erotic romance novels, and he had just caught me in the act. This one is more than sexy; it was downright scorching.
Jackson is a physically fit, tall, and gorgeous man. He is the CEO of a construction company, and he routinely collaborates with employees as well as response to the board of directors and makes decisions that have an impact on the company’s day-to-day operations. I adore him and do not ever want to leave him as I see no better life than with him. He was, in fact, more romantic than I was, continuing to give me flowers on special occasions and annually celebrating Valentine’s Week rather than Valentine’s Day. He assists me with household work when I needed it, rubs my sore feet or back when they hurt, and he is the best lover I have ever had. Reflectively, I looked up at him and with our eyes locked, quietly handed him my book.
"It’s a harem romance in reverse," I explained as I maintain my gaze on his visage.
"Could you describe a reverse harem? I don’t know what that is but it sounds interesting." He inquired further.
"A reverse harem is one in which many guys satisfy one woman rather than many women satisfying one guy; it’s a harem in reverse," I said.
He inquired further. "Does this pique your interest?"
"I would not have read it if they weren’t interesting to read, it’s a fantasy for sure. I think ten or so would be too many though. One is more than sufficient and to be honest, I’m very delighted with you already."
He asks scanning the open page, "Do you masturbate to these?"
"Once in a while," I admitted.
"So, what piques your interest about this? What is the benefit of having a large number of men?" he asked, continuing to scan the page.
Jackson’s never-ending bombardment of questions has the potential to drive me nuts. It was more of a pleasurable indulgence than anything else.
"Well, think about it," I suggested. "It is absurd to believe that a single man can gratify a large number of women. To put it another way, males need to refuel after having sex. He’d be lucky if he could realistically please two women. A lady, on the other hand, might easily gratify a huge number of males if she was willing. The weapon does not require reloading. When one person has completed his task, another person takes his place."
"Men and women differ in a variety of ways, and biology can explain that. Nonetheless, ten is a ridiculously large number. A woman could probably only satisfy three men at a time unless she also uses her hands or oral to them, in which case she can satisfy probably up to five," he briefly said.
"The five, on the other hand, would require reloading. There are still five people who can look after her until she is satisfied."
He inquired, "So, you’re guessing it would take more than five males to satisfy your sexual desires?"
"No. You’re living in fiction, honey. I’ve got you, and you go out of your way to please me. Our sex life is exciting and fulfilling," I replied.
"That’s good to know," he says, one eyebrow slightly raised while still looking down at the page.
"I don’t need many men when you’re already able to satisfy me," I mentioned this as I handed him another book I planned to begin after I finished that book that was on the table next to me.
He took the new book, thumbed open a few pages, and started reading. After a few minutes, he asks me an unexpected question. "Do these appear to be another source of fantasy for you, being a sex slave?"
"Not in the conventional meaning of the word. This is, once again, pure fantasy. I’m not on the lookout for it. I believe I have some interest in learning more about it, but not enough to desire one. It sounds like it’s aching to me, and as you know, I’m not good in circumstances where I’m in pain. My toe has been stubbed, and this is a major setback. On occasion, I have dreamt about what it might be like to be a sex slave. It’s not like being kidnapped and forced to do anything; instead, it’s like being owned by a single, powerful person. I don’t know why most writers described the orgasmic experiences of the sex slave as earth crashing, ocean rumbling, pussy dripping; and cosmic erupting in the novels.
"Um... I don’t know also but what exactly are yours?" Jackson inquired. "Small waves and exploding fireworks?"
I warned him, "Jackson! Please don’t irritate me. My orgasms with you have been the most thrilling I’ve ever had. They aren’t earthquake crashing, but I doubt that anyone’s is. This is, once again, pure fantasy. For encouraging us to believe in unfathomable happiness, these writers get paid. Just because I enjoy reading about this genre doesn’t mean I’m missing out on something in my own life. My life is comfortable and satisfying. Please don’t give the impression that I’m not. You, like an extraterrestrial film, you’re a science fiction fan. So you want to visit a world that doesn’t actually exist, a creature from outer space, and mate with blue-skinned undiscovered people. Your fantasies are no more realistic than mine. "I stated unequivocally.
"I’m not going to argue with you. You are correct, honey." He remarked as he looked at the book I had just handed him. "Is it fine with you if I store and read this for a while? I’m curious as to what motivates you in your fantasy life."
"Sure. Please don’t have any crazy ideas about my books and my fantasies because it’s just a fantasy, honey, it’s all just a fantasy."
"Okay." He said and merely turned around.
