28 July 2018

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I love email. If you give me a story line, I'll name a character after you. I really need ideas for fun situations. Get it?

Brooke wants a whisper

Orlando again. Guess I'm a writer now.

We had a quiet few days, if you consider anything in our life quiet. Leslie was now certified as an instructor on the TTx. Apparently, nobody thought to put a minimum age on instructors. She and Chris were spending a lot of time together and Chris was excited because she had just soloed. Chris was returning the favor, and teaching Leslie how to race boats. Chris mentioned that Leslie was a natural and would compete with her for the points lead if we had another boat. Hint, hint. Doesn't take much hinting to Mom and Dad, and a few days later another lift had been installed and a twin to Chris' boat sat in it. Sure.

The day we got back, I got a text from Missy.

"Brooke wants a whisper. So does Jack."

Brooke? Another cheerleader? The only cheerleader hotter than Missy, well, except for Leslie, who put them all to shame. OK, I could go there, but Jack? Jack is the quarterback. What did Jack want? So, I texted.

"What does Jack want?"

"Morgan."

OK, shoot for a high schooler Jack. I could ask.

"And you."

What? Oh. Interesting.

"Can't promise Morgan." I left it at that. I got a smiley face back.

"He can dream. He'll still cum. Oops."

Yeah, sure, that was a typo. They asked if they could come today. Why not? I didn't have any plans, and fucking was always a good plan.

"You are coming too?"

"Sure. Somebody has to lick her."

OK then.

Not 30 minutes later, an SUV pulled in. Out piled Missy, Brooke, Jack, and another boy. A young boy. The driver got out and it was Missy's mom, Melinda. She winked at me. Well, I had fucked her.

"I hope you don't mind that Mick came along," said Missy's mom. "Missy has been raving about you, and Mick wanted to play too." She winked at me again. Really? Really?

Missy's mom took off, be not before she 'accidentally' rubbed my ass. Oh, mother/daughter. Yep, yep, yep. That was fun.

We found out that Mick was 9, but as Missy put it 'a precocious 9 that wants to learn'. She also added that they all knew to be discreet. OK. Cool.

My sisters ran out and introduced themselves. Missy and Brooke knew Leslie because they were all cheerleaders but were new to Chris. We didn't explain much, but they let it slide.

"Oh, you're fucking hot," said Mick, to Chris. OK, playa. Chris looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I just smiled and nodded.

"OK, little guy, you got the cojones to back up that attitude?" said Chris. Mick just stared with big eyes. "Prove it." She held out her hand, and Mick wasn't stupid, he took it and they walked off towards the bedrooms. Damn, 9 and fucking Chris. He'd enjoy that memory for a lifetime.

That left Morgan, Leslie, and me with Jack and Brooke. I figured I'd shake things up and see how it went.

"So Jack, I hear you want to fuck Morgan," I said. He looked a little shocked, and Morgan laughed.

"But that's not the real question. The real question is are you a top or a bottom? Do you want it in the ass, or do you want to fuck me in the ass?" I said. Yep, shake him up. He turned bright red. REALLY bright red, and this time Brooke laughed. Oh, OK, she knew already. That's handy.

"Both," replied Jack, softly.

"Well awesome," I said. "We're all one big happy family here, so why don't the six of us head back to my bedroom," I said. At that point, Brooke looked at Leslie. Yeah, that way. Leslie returned the look with a BIG smile.

They were more bashful than I expected. I would have thought they would be more experienced, but apparently not. They were naked in a heartbeat, and Missy, Morgan, and I weren't far behind. Missy took Brooke's hand and pulled her onto the bed and started going down on her. I decided to push Jack a bit and pushed him down on his knees and offered him my cock. He took it in his hand, and knew what to do there, but I pushed his hand away and touched his lips. He opened up, and I slid in, but just a bit. Let him get used to it. Soon he was bobbing up and down quite nicely. Should I stop? Should I warn him? Usually yes, but I sensed that he needed to be pushed bit, so I didn't. It wasn't long before I came, hard. He swallowed as much as he could, but some leaked out. I pulled him to his feet and licked the drops. He opened his mouth and showed me a mouthful of cum. I kissed him, and he knew what to do, and pushed it all into my mouth. Damn, he learned fast. I had needed to cum, so I'd last for Brooke, and he was quite a fluffer. Just then I heard Brooke moan. Oh yeah, Missy was successful. Missy was on her knees and so inviting. I pushed Missy a little to the side and laid down next to Brooke. I explained how she would be on top first, but then she should try doggy style. She didn't know what that meant, so I motioned to Missy, who got back on her knees. Then I motioned over Jack, who got the idea. He clearly wasn't a virgin with a girl, because he was soon pumping away. Brooke was enthralled. I gently pulled her over and swung her up onto my legs. I took her hand and put it on my cock. She understood and lifted it up and positioned herself. I expected her to lower herself gently, but no, she slammed herself down and stayed there.

"Oh God," she said. "This is amazing. Why, oh why, did I wait. Now you're going to see what a cheerleader can do for you." Yeah, sorry Brooke, but Morgan and Leslie are cheerleaders. Not my first rodeo. Yeah, I didn't say that out loud.

She was a freak and bounced as fast as she could. I played with her clit and her nipples and she really went to work on MY nipples. Fuck yeah. Soon she was riding the wave and I couldn't hold back and filled her up. Full. Finally, she rolled off, next to Missy, who Jack had just filled. Jack waved Morgan and me away, and proceeded to clean out Missy, then Brooke, passing the cum to each of them in a kiss. Then they passed it to each other. Hot, hot, hot.

We were a sticky mess and showered together. Jack showed his recovery skills and fucked me in the shower, with all three girls helping. I liked these people. Finally, we went back out to the kitchen.

The funniest thing is it was still only 10 am. We ended up having a fun day in the boats, on the waverunners, and in the go-carts. Oh, and in the bedroom again. Yes, Jack enjoyed being a bottom too.

Number 500? Number 500!

Lance had called and said he had three cars for me to check out and that one was pretty pricey. He asked if I could come over. Amy wanted to come, so we headed off in her Camaro. Yeah, me in the passenger seat, of course.

When we got there, Lance provided a little suspense and wouldn't tell us what they were. He'd scattered them, so we wouldn't see them at once. He took us to the first car, a 2003 BMW Z1. Cool car, even a little weird. The doors opened down, and you stepped over them. A convertible, of course because all of them were. This one was black and looked great. Typical Lance quality.

"It's interesting," I said. "It would be fun to play with, but I probably wouldn't match an offer. Not one I'm dying to have in my collection."

"Exactly what I thought you'd say," said Lance. "We're learning your tastes."

He walked us to another part of the warehouse. Sitting there was a Porsche 918 Spyder. A hybrid, they're brutally fast and cool. It was in silver, which isn't my favorite.

"How much?" I asked.

"$1.1 million. A little high, but they're appreciating," he said.

"OK, but I'm not a fan of silver. Buy this, but if you find another one in a better color, buy it and sell this one," I said. Lance and Amy both nodded. They knew I didn't really like silver. Bland.

Finally, he walked us to another spot. As we approached the car, Amy squealed.

"A LaFerrari! Wow, I've never even seen one. 499 made. Incredibly rare and hard to buy. Has to be over $4 million," said Amy. Apparently, she knows her rare Ferraris. "Wait. This is a deep blue. Has it been repainted? Why? They were only offered in black, yellow, and red."

"No, it's from the factory," said Lance.

"It can't be. It was never offered in blue," insisted Amy.

"Look at the VIN," said Lance. Amy got a quizzical look and walked over and looked, then spun on her heel.

"500?" she said. "How can that be? They made 499."

"Nope. They sold 499. They didn't sell this one. It was kept by the factory. VIN number 500. Marco actually heard through the grapevine that they might accept an offer, but it had to be big. He and I talked about it. We should have asked, I know, but we wanted it. We'll find a way to pay for it, if you object."

"No, no, you did the right thing," said Amy. "It. Is. Mine. How much?"

"Six million," said Lance.

"That's not too bad, really," said Amy. "Regular used ones are above $4 million now. How many miles?"

"Well, this one is in kilometers, but the answer is 2," said Lance.

"Two! Wait, is this considered new? Never titled?" said Amy.

Lance just grinned.

"I'll be damned. You did good. You have got to do press on this. Get the factory involved. This will be huge for you and Marco that you snapped this up," said Amy. "Make sure the factory knows to speak to us first if they have anything like this, ever. We'll buy it. Always."

"Well, interesting that you say that," said Lance. "They have one more they'll sell us. A 1963 250 GTO. It's been in the museum since new. It's number 1. They never sold it. I'm surprised they're willing to. My impression is that Fiat needs some quick cash."

"Wait, a 250 GTO. The last one at auction sold for what, $30 million?" asked Amy.

"$34 million. The highest price ever paid for a car," said Lance.

"So, what do they want for it?" she asked.

"$75 million," said Lance. Shit, for a car.

"Nah, too much, even for that. Have Lance offer them $50 million, wired today. If they need the money, I'll bet they take it," said Amy. She turned to me.

"OK, here's the deal. If we win the 250 GTO, we have to move some furniture. It's sitting next to the 917. In fact, I want to expand that room. There is plenty of space on that side. Let's build a temperature and humidity-controlled room, with a glass wall, that will fit four or five cars. We're killing the 917 leaving it out like that," she said. I, of course, agreed. I'd love it. I loved that she loved it.

We turned back, to find Lance just hanging up the phone.

"Just called Marco. He'll make the offer and let us know," said Lance. Just then he got a text.

"Wow, they accepted," he said. "They do need the money. He's going to ask them what else they have to sell. Might as well go a little crazy. He asked if you want to send the 767 over. I had the LaFerrari shipped and it made me nervous." We agreed, of course.

Just then Lance got another text.

"Shit. That's amazing. They've offered anything in their museum. Marco got them to agree to not make any sales until we could get over there. How fast can you leave?" he said.

"Two hours?" said Amy. "I'll text Tom and Jess. Bob, you text the kids, and Alison. Text Juanita too and see if her whole family wants to come. Tell them it is a short trip, just a few days. Let's all meet at the airport in 2. Lance, bring the family. Have Matt bring his too. Can you close for a few days?"

"Sure," laughed Lance. "I hear my best customers will be out of town." We all laughed at that.

We made it to the airport in just a little over two hours. Everyone decided to come, except Jesse and Julia. They couldn't get the time off. They met us at the airport, with Ruby and Gabe, who could come.

"This is silly," I said, to Julia and Jesse. "What do you even do for a living? I'm embarrassed I never even asked."

"We both work at a hotel," he said, naming one of the better hotels on the beach. "Julia is a maid, and I am part of the maintenance team. It's not a lot of money, but we do OK. Juanita helps us out, given you overpay her."

Wow, I can't believe I hadn't asked.

"Quit," I said. "Get on the plane. Call from the air. Just quit."

"We can't do that," said Julia. "We have kids. An apartment. We have to have those jobs."

"No, you don't," jumped in Amy. "You have new jobs. Starting today. You each get the same pay as Juanita." That cause a bit of bedlam, with them, and Juanita.

"But what would we do?" asked Jesse. "We don't want charity."

"It's not. You'll work hard. We'll figure out exactly what the jobs are," I said. "We need more help. Some of it is that we want to travel more, which means we need responsible adults with the kids. Adults that understand our family, if you get my drift. Blake and Alison, and even Juanita are already overworked. We ask too much of them. You can just be our free agents, doing whatever needs to be done. If I had to guess, I'd say you're a great cook Julia. Alison could use help there, for sure."

Julia just beamed. "I'll teach you foods you don't know," she said. "You'll love it. I am a GREAT cook." Gabe and Ruby had walked up and confirmed that she was. We hadn't doubted her.

Jesse and Julia looked at each other and answered by walking up the ramp into the plane.

"Yay!" yelled Gabe and Ruby. The kids all got excited too.

We had a pretty full plane, with:

Bob, Amy, Morgan, Orlando, Leslie, Chris
Tom, Jess
Blake, Alison
Jesse, Julia, Juanita, Gabe, Ruby
Lance, Linda, Clay, Cindy
Matt, Terry, Renee

OK, not that full. 22 people. It could easily seat 50, 75 in a pinch. Oh shit, Sophia didn't know we were coming. I texted her quickly and she responded the house was ready. She said it was always ready. I had no doubt that was true. She said the kids were very excited.

We took off, with Leslie in the left seat, of course.

While we were in the air, Marco emailed us a list of the available cars. He said that Ferrari had offered what he considered decent prices, given we'd already committed to the 250. Almost all were new and had never left the museum. Basically, they were emptying the museum. I had checked with Jason about funds, and he'd actually laughed and admitted he was wrong. He shared that the cars we purchased were now officially our best investments. Marco thought they were making a play to buy someone, or they were hurting more than we thought. Buying Chrysler hurt them. Roughly $175 million, plus the $50 million we'd already committed. The 340/375 had been raced. The others were new. Many were number 1 off the line. So, $225 million. Lance had shared we'd topped $3 billion. He hadn't checked but thought we might be close to $3.5 billion. OK, we could afford them.

It was late in Italy, but Marco had said his contact would take a call at any hour.

I texted Marco and said to call and offer $150 million for them all, but that he could go as high as $170 million. He texted back he would.

Five minutes later he texted again.

"They accepted $150 million. I'm stunned, both that they did and that you did this. I've asked if they would object to the cars staying in the museum, and we'd take them in and out as we desired. They loved that. I think it is why they accepted the $150 million. They still get their museum, but we get ownership. Win-win. We'd have to upgrade security, so this is better for us. Tell Lance that before these come over, he needs to upgrade. You do too at the house. Full time security. You have no choice."

Damn, he's right. I texted Jackson, and explained that we needed 24-hour security, and they all had to be cool. He texted back and said he'd arrange it and that it would be in place before we got back. I asked if I could call, and he said that was fine. I talked him through what we wanted to do in construction, and he said he knew just the right company. He'd take them to the house and have them send rough plans over to us in Italy. Wow, he moved fast.

So, by the time we landed, we owned a bunch more cars. It was the middle of the night, local time, when we landed. Sophia and the kids actually met us at the airport, which was silly, but unsurprising. It was 4 am! We were wearing down, so when we got to the house everybody found a bed and went right to sleep. I have no idea who was where, I just know Amy and I fell asleep with a naked little Ruby between us. Why not?

We slept in, at least local time, to almost noon. When we came out, Marco and his family were there, and Sophia had lunch ready. Marco was bouncing off the walls he was so excited. He started talking about the provenance of the cars, and Lance, Linda, Matt, and Amy were all over it. I was still tired, so I sort of listened. The kids ate fast and disappeared back into the house. I have an idea that they were, well, welcoming each other. That mental image was amazing.

As soon as lunch was over, we all headed out to the museum. It took quite a convoy to get 25 people to the museum. When we got there, a sign on the door said they were closed for renovations. Marco called someone, and a guard came over and unlocked the door. A small man in a suit literally ran over and started speaking non-stop Italian. Most of us just stood there, but the locals all laughed. Marco turned to us.

"He said you are his saviors. You saved his cars and you saved his job. He said he loves you all," said Marco, which got a little laugh.

"Yes, I love you all," said the man, in flawless English. He introduced himself as Leonardo, or Leo to his friends, and he was the director of the museum. Marco shared he was also one of the most successful Ferrari drivers in the 1980s, which made him beam.

"Come, come," he said. "I will show you your cars. You bought the entire museum. They're all yours." Seriously. We'd bought them all?

We started in a section that had the four 250 models we bought. My God they were beautiful. Amy mentioned that we were the buyers of the blue LaFerrari too, and his eyes lit up. He asked if he could have it back some. Amy laughed and assured him he could. He was enamored with Amy, I think because she knew every single car on the floor. OK, he had a little lust thing going too. He was probably in his early 60s, but a damn fine-looking man. Amy would fuck him. Yeah, she would.

It was hard to find a favorite. Amy shared that she wanted to take four of the cars with her, for our museum in our home. That perked up Leo's ears.

"You have a museum in your home? Inside?" he asked.

"Well, not quite yet. We're having it built. We already have a Porsche 917 in our living room. Seemed like we needed more space," said Amy. He laughed and confirmed we really meant a 917.

"Oh wait," he said. "That was Marco's wasn't it? You're the buyers that wiped out his inventory, aren't you? I loved those cars." We admitted, yes, that was us, and that he was welcome to drop by and visit any of them that happened to still be in Italy. That's when he realized where we lived.

"You bought the winery! You saved it. You are my heroes again," he said. I whispered to Sophia that she should send over a half dozen cases, and she thought that was a great idea. She had another one and asked if she could share. Of course!

"But how in the world are you going to ship these beautiful cars?" he asked. "It's quite expensive. Once you take them to America, we will never see them again." His voice was so sad.

"No, that's not the case at all," said Amy. "We will regularly swap out the cars. If you have one or more that you would like back, just tell us, and we can bring them in a day or two. If you need them all for an event, we'll have them here."

"But how?" said Leo. "What you're describing is not possible."

"Yes, it is," jumped in Leslie. "I can fly them back." Having an 11-year-old girl announce that was even more confusing to Leo.

"OK Leo. It is a longer story than just standing here in the museum. Let's do this. Marco will arrange transport for the four Amy has chosen to the airport. Why don't you come with us and you can see how they will be transported, then you can join us at our home for lunch. Does that work?" He readily agreed, clearly still confused, particularly by Leslie.

"Leo, before we go, I had an idea I wanted to share. It's not complete yet, but you'll get the idea," said Sophia. "We often have wine tastings, and they bring in a good crowd. Many of them could be donors to support your museum because I am sure that the upkeep is significant. How about if we arranged a quarterly wine tasting event here at the museum. Make it a big formal thing."

"Oh my," said Leo. "That's the best idea I have ever heard. Let's do it!" From his look, he had a little lust going on for Sophia. Well, she'd likely fuck him too.

Marco went to arrange four flat beds. We certainly were not going to drive them! Amy and I went in the office with Leo to sign the paperwork. It just took a few minutes, and the money was transferred, to Leo's delight. I think we overwhelmed him a bit. The rest of the family wandered the museum, with various employees coming up to thank them. Sometimes Sophia had to translate, but they were all joyous.

"So Leo. I was just thinking. What is the museum's relationship with Ferrari?" I asked. He explained that it was actually informal. The museum was a non-profit organization, and the company had loaned the cars. That's why they were so devastated at the loss. Their fund raising covered operating costs, not cars.

"How would you feel about opening up the museum to other manufacturers? We have other cars that are show quality. For example, you're aware of the 917," I said.

"Oh, that's an interesting suggestion, but surely you don't have that many museum class cars," he said. Amy actually laughed out loud. She ripped through a pretty complete list from memory.

"My God," he said. "You own all those?"

"Yes, we do," I said. "We love cars. In fact, we would encourage you to refer any interesting cars to Marco. We would likely buy them."

"Well, I have two suggestions. The first is that have you ever considered American muscle cars?" he said. "Those would be fabulously popular here. No one will have ever seen them."

Amy laughed and reminded him of the L88 Corvette and her Camaro. She assured him she loved the idea and would broaden the collection, in her words, vigorously.

"OK, well I have another suggestion, but don't know if you have another hundred million dollars to burn. I'm mean, seriously, who does?" he said. Our ears perked up and we asked him to tell us more.

"I know of a collector in Paris that has an amazing collection. He's considering a major sale but is concerned he'll suppress the market. I am sure he would consider a private sale of a selection of his cars. I know the figure that is his goal," he said. "A private sale would protect the market."

"What would you value his entire collection at?" Amy asked. "And would he consider selling it complete?" Leo sat back, clearly stunned.

"I have no idea, but I'd estimate around $300 million US," he said.

"Oh my. We'd consider the entire collection," said Amy. Leo's jaw actually dropped.

"You could do that?" he asked. "You really could do that? Wouldn't you be taking on huge debt?"

"No, cash," I said. His eyes got huge and Marco actually laughed.

"Does he have an inventory and estimated values?" I asked. Leo pulled a sheet out of his desk.

"Oh, how handy," laughed Amy. I handed the list to Marco. He handed it to Gianna.

"Gianna knows values," he said. "I recognize most of these cars. There had been rumors that one collector had bought a number of rare cars through intermediaries. If Bob and Amy buy these, there can be NO publicity. It would have to include a non-disclosure. We would drip them out to your museum a few at a time, and you'd have to say that you had multiple collectors loaning you cars. We would depress the entire market."

"Yes, yes, I agree," said Leo. "Completely."

We chatted for a while, and Gianna came back.

"I value the lot at $281 million, but that's individual values combined," she said. "As a lot I would go much, much lower. A cash offer, I would start at $200 million."

"OK," I said. "Leo, can you make the offer on the part of an anonymous buyer?"

"That's it?" he said. "You don't want to see them? Inspect them?"

"I know all these cars," said Marco. "I know exactly when he bought them. An inspection would be a condition of the sale, but I doubt there would be an issue."

"OK," said Leo. "One moment."

He picked up the phone and made a call. He spoke, in French, for a few minutes. Once he hung up the phone he turned to Amy and me.

"He accepted the offer, contingent on inspection. He would like the money put into an escrow account," said Leo. "I am stunned at your willingness to do this. So fast!"

Yeah, me too. Hope we didn't just bottom out the market. But what's a couple hundred million?

"You know, we have duplicates now. Two 917s. Two GT40s. I don't know the 250 well, but think we have a couple pairs there too," said Amy. Leo just shook his head.

"Lance, Gianna, and I will fly up today," said Marco. "That's assuming the kids can stay with you." Sophia assured him that was fine.

"Linda and Matt can supervise the loading of the cars Amy chose," he said. "You'll need a bigger museum, here or at home. I'd consider loans to other museums as well. I'll look into it. The seller will likely hold the cars for a bit. Do you want us to fly commercial or private?" Amy laughed and suggested private was fine. The three of them left, taking the Quattro.

Just then the four flatbed trailers arrived, and Matt and Linda went to meet them. We headed back to the house, leaving them a car, and brought Leo. We told them to call or text us when they were heading to the airport, and some of us would meet them.

It took a while to load, apparently, and we eventually a text. We left everyone at the house but took Leo and Leslie with us. She wasn't having anything else, when HER plane was being loaded.

We got to the airport just before the trucks. They finally pulled up, after having to fight through security. They couldn't understand why cars on a truck would be going into the airport. We were going to have to drive them on to the plane. That was OK because Leo insisted they had to be started on a regular basis. Leo was both stunned and intrigued by the 767.

"I do get them back," he said. "Don't I? But I don't understand what your daughter meant about she'd fly them back. Does she mean she'd ride along?"

"No, that's not what I mean," said Leslie. "I meant I would fly them back. Tom or Jess would come with me to fly copilot. This is my plane, and I am the captain." She said it pretty forcefully. Leo looked at Amy and me like Leslie must be loco.

"She means it," I said. "It's her plane. She flies it. It's complicated, but once we have our little museum built, we'll fly you over for a visit. You can advise us on any mistakes we made. In fact, we'd be honored if you reviewed the plans before we built it. I expect them before dinner." Leo agreed he would be thrilled to both help and visit.

We let Matt and Linda do the honors of driving the cars up. It's not like I wanted to wreck a $10 million car. I liked Amy's choices, but knew we'd rotate the Paris cars in and out. Amy had asked Leo to choose four cars to fill the four open slots. I thought she'd faint when he chose her Camaro, but she smiled and agreed he could have it 'for a while'.

After they were loaded, we headed back to the house. When we arrived, Sophia let us know that Jackson had contacted her, and the draft plans would arrive within the hour. Jackson pulled off the impossible again. Well, he was almost full-time with us now.

"Leo," said Sophia. "Would you like a tour of the house?" Oh Sophia. A tour. Aren't you sweet? They disappeared into the house for about 45 minutes. When they came back, Leo couldn't stop smiling. Sophia looked worn out. Apparently, Leo had skills. Amy noticed. Oh, Amy noticed. My guess is Leo's visit to Florida would be a little more exciting than he expected. I wonder if I got to play. Who knows?

Sophia disappeared for a minute and came back with a stack of paper.

"I had to print the plans in pieces," said Sophia. "Let me put it together on the table. Jackson said it is bigger than you suggested, but you had plenty of room and he thought you'd like it."

We looked at the plans and it was enormous. There were spots drawn where a car could be located. At the back was a double garage door that led right into the room. We counted and it was designed to hold 14 cars. Yeah, he went a little bigger than we expected, but we bought a lot more cars than we expected.

Just then Luca ran out, both naked and hard.

"Oops, I didn't realize we had a guest," said Luca. He walked up to Leo and held out his hand. "I am Luca. I live here. Sophia is my mom." Leo introduced himself and visibly took in Luca. He actually stared at his hard cock and it looked like he was resisting touching it. He actually shook a bit. With that, Luca ran back out of the room.

"Sorry about that," said Sophia. "Keeping clothes on the kids is hard." She really stressed the word hard. Oh look, Leo is hard again. He was seriously tenting his pants. How nice.

"But young lady, I don't understand," he said. "I don't know your age, but it can't be much more than young Luca." Right then Elena ran through, right past us, also naked. Leo's eyebrows shot up, but he stared at her all the way through. Pretty sure I saw that hardon bounce.

"Yes, she likes to be naked too," said Sophia. "It is complicated. They were actually my siblings, but our parents passed, and with Bob's help I adopted them. Bob and Amy saved our family. They saved our lives."

"There is so much that I don't understand about this group, but I am sure I will enjoy spending time with everyone. I especially like children," said Leo. Yeah, Leo, I bet you do. They'll rock your world, if we're reading you right.

"You know, Leo," said Sophia. "There are parts of the house that you didn't see in the tour. Would you like Luca and Elena to show you around?" Leo visibly brightened.

"I would like that very much," he said, in a voice about three octaves lower. Sophia called them out. They both arrived, still naked. No one said anything to correct them.

"Kids, Mr. Leo would like a tour," said Sophia. "Our special tour. Could you please take him?" Leo followed them out, clearly staring at their little asses. Hell, we all were too. They were gone for almost an hour. All three came back out, clothed this time. Leo had quite a spring in his step. Luca and Elena both said they needed a nap. Wow Leo. Just wow.

"Did you enjoy your tour Leo?" said Amy. "Did it live up to your expectations? Are there any parts of the house you missed? Bob or I would both be pleased to give you additional tours." Leo grinned again and looked back and forth between us.

"Oh, I am sure I would love that, but not today," said Leo. "Perhaps when I am in Florida, you could give me a tour together. By the way, do the other four children give tours as well?" We assured him that yes, they certainly did. With that he excused himself and left, whistling while he walked.

Just then, my phone rang, and it was Marco.

"My God," he said. "I think I have died and gone to car heaven. You have to come. You cannot go back to Florida without coming here. How many spots are left on the plane?"

I laughed. "OK, we'll fly up. What's the closest airport?" I said. "Oh, and these cars are small. We have at least 2, if not 4 slots. We'll have to measure. Pick small ones."

"Paris," said Marco. "Nothing else is big enough and it is only 35 minutes to here. I'll text you the address. Text me the length we are working with before you leave, and I'll pick four that will fit. I'll arrange the flatbed trucks too. If you come tonight, you can see the cars in the morning, have an afternoon in Paris, sleep on the plane and head home to next morning."

"Done. We'll be there shortly," I said. "We'll bring Sophia and the kids. Can you arrange a plane back for all of you?" He assured me he would take care of it. I hung up and told everyone to pack, we were leaving for Paris immediately. I told Sophia to come and bring the kids, and they could come back with Marco. That got excited squeals from everyone, including Sophia.

"OK, but I get my pick of who I sleep with," she said.

"You always do Sophia," said Amy. "No one would EVER turn you down." That got a laugh from the crowd. "By the way, was Leo a good fuck?"

"Yes," said Sophia, Luca, and Elena, all at the same time. That got a laugh too.

We got to the airport, and I texted the open dimensions to Marco. He replied that he suggested the Koenigsegg, the 1936 or 1937 540K, the Shelby Daytona, and the 62 Aston Martin DB4. As he put it, variety. Jackson had texted that construction was underway, and he'd paid for double crews, 24 hours a day. He was sure it would be done before we arrived. Wow. That had to cost us, but that was cool. He said he also had them build an extra room for the security detail, including a bedroom, just in case and hoped that was OK. The security crew would be there by the time we arrived. Two on duty at all times. One patrolling the grounds, and one in the house. That was going to be weird, but he assured me that they would ignore everything, unless invited to participate and, if so, they could only play when off duty. He assured me that we would like them all and, as he put it, he had done special interviews for us, including the special recordings. Oh good.

We arrived in Paris faster than expected, so Marco arranged for us to go straight to see the cars. He had arranged a small bus, given the number in our group. We had eaten on the plane and got there about 6. It was a non-descript warehouse, in a warehouse district, but when you looked closely, you could see the construction was superior. A large garage door went up and Marco waved us inside. The door went down quickly. We were in a small garage, and there was another garage door to get into the main building.

"Both doors are never up at the same time," said Marco. "It's one of the keys to the security. You're going to drool, so try not to get it on the cars."

We walked through the now open second door. It was really bright and my God. Look at the cars. And they were all ours. There was a gentleman waiting, who introduced himself as the former owner of all these beautiful machines. He was a little confused when he realized Amy and I were the buyers. We let him wonder. Marco had positioned the cars that would go with us at the front.

"This is certainly quite a collection," I said. He thanked me and said he understood that our existing collection was just as large. We acknowledged that we were investors in some of the cars at the museum, not wanting to share too much information.

"Marco shared that he had arranged aircraft transport," he said. "That must be expensive and complicated." We didn't feel the need to share the story, so we just said that we had. Well, technically we had. He had shared the access codes with Marco, and owned the building, and offered to keep the cars for a few months if that helped. We told him Marco would be the person to work it all out. With that, he left. Just then the four trucks arrived, and we loaded the cars, and all headed back to the airport. Marco had arranged the bus for tomorrow as well, and a tour guide. He worked out a full day to let us see as much as we could of Paris.

"Although I understand that you and Amy won't be joining us," said Marco. We wouldn't? Why wouldn't we? I just nodded, which made Amy laugh.

"No," said Amy. "We have other plans. Bob doesn't know what yet, but he is the king of 'do whatever Amy wants'. I like that about him." That made everyone laugh. By then the cars were loaded and the ramp closed. It was really late, and it had been quite a day, so everyone found a spot to sleep. There were a lot of us, but the kids spread out on the couches and sleeper seats to give the adults the bedrooms. Somehow, we ended up with Ruby between us again. OK by us. She blew me and licked Amy to orgasm, which was nice of her. Amy returned the favor, and then Ruby got on her knees and wiggled her ass. No need for more of an invitation. I entered her from behind. She motioned to Amy, who slid in and Ruby licked her while I fucked her. Damn, we live a good life. I blew my load in her, after she came. The pulsing pushed me over. Amy took the task of cleaning her out, and then we fell asleep in a jumble.

The next morning, everyone was gone by eight, leaving Amy and me behind. I'm not stupid. I knew what we were doing. We'd just blown $300 million on cars. We could afford a house. Venice, Florida, Paris? Sure.

"So how many are we looking at?" I asked. Amy laughed.

"You know me well," she said. "I've been looking online, but they're hard to figure out. I found a great agent, that came highly recommended, so I've worked with him on what we want. Minimum of 6-bedrooms, but more is better. Walking distance to the heart of Paris. House preferred over apartment, but not required. No overdone glitz, modern preferred. Furnished OK, but not required. Cash sale. I put a minimum of 500 square meters, which is 4,500 square feet, but 1,000 is preferred. That made him gag. Oh, and parking was a must. He narrowed it down to three, from $5 million to $35 million. I admit, looking online, I lean towards the expensive one, but honestly, who cares?" She was right about that. Our money was earning money so fast it was tough to spend it. We'd been gone a few days. We'd likely made that much. Jason had done exceptionally well with the VC fund. I'd given him another $300 million to play with.

We took a cab into Paris and met the realtor at the first apartment. Apparently all three were in walking distance, which fit with Amy's requirements. Amy recognized Jean Paul from his photo. Yes, he was really named Jean Paul and he lived up to his name. Very French. Very sexy. Somehow, I suspect Amy left her panties at home. I know she left the bra. She was in a simple sundress and rocked it. She rocked everything of course. Jean Paul actually turned out to be very nice and gave me as much attention as Amy. He was very casual and treated us well, which is always a pleasant surprise.

The first place was at the small end. 5-bedrooms, 4,000 square feet (yes, I made him translate), and on a middle floor. Roughly $5 million. It was, well, nice, which is the best thing I could say for it. Nothing wrong with it and a year ago I would have been agog. Not now. The second place was a step up. 6-bedrooms, 5,500 square feet and a townhome on the top two floors of a 6-story building in a wonderful little neighborhood. I liked it a lot and so did Amy. I sincerely thought it would be our place at the bargain price of $9 million.

Then we got to the third place. 3 floors on the top of an eight-story building built in the late 1700s. That didn't sound too appealing until we walked in. Holy crap. They had completely redone the interior, in a very modern style. It reminded me a bit of our New York apartment, although not quite as large. It was 12,000 square feet and 8-bedrooms, which was enormous for inside the Paris city limits. The living area was the top floor, with a rooftop garden that was another 4,000 square feet. The next floor down was the Master, taking almost half the floor, plus three smaller bedrooms. The bottom floor was an additional four bedrooms. The basement garage came with four spaces. What tipped it over was the view was directly at the Eiffel tower. Talk about stunning. We toured the floors, when went up to the rooftop gardens. My God, it was a view in every direction to all of Paris. You would have thought it was in a movie.

"How much?" I asked. Jean Paul replied that it was $35 million US, furnished. The furnishings were truly perfect, matching our style. I mean perfect.

"Am I correct that it is unoccupied? If so, for how long? Is this the original asking price? What did they pay for it and when?" asked Amy. All good questions.

"What great questions," commented Jean Paul. "OK, in order. Yes, it is unoccupied. It has been empty for 15 months, since the divorce of the owners. They fought over it, and no one won. The original asking price was $39 million. They paid $25 million, just 6 years ago. The unasked question is what would they take for it? I have heard rumors that they are cash poor and need to sell. I cannot suggest an offer to you, but I do believe a cash offer would be welcomed."

Amy and I spoke privately for a minute.

"OK," she said. "$30 million. Transferred today. Immediate occupancy. No negotiation take it or leave it. And I mean it. Transferred within an hour. All cash."

Jean Paul looked shocked. "You can do that? $30 million in an hour? You?" he said. We both laughed. Let's face it I was in cargo shorts and a vintage Beatles shirt, with a decent size hole in the back. Amy looked great but was in a sundress that wasn't couture. We were both wearing flipflops. We were also young. Just the fact that Jean Paul even showed us the places was nice.

"Yes, we can," said Amy. "Make the offer and ask for the banking info. That should help."

Jean Paul walked into the next room and spoke in French. We really needed to know more than English. Maybe we'd hire tutors. We had the time. We had the money. Hey, Juanita would teach us Spanish. After all, we lived in Florida.

Jean Paul walked back. "I don't think they believe you," he said. "They accepted, but the acceptance expires at 1600 if not paid. That's in less than 5 hours. I have the bank information." He showed us his phone and it was in a text. Amy held out her hand for the phone.

"I'll have confirmation texted to you and you can forward it," she said. She sent a text to Jason. We knew exactly what would happen next. Not two minutes later, his phone beeped.

"You have to be fucking kidding me," he said, in a surprisingly American accent. We both burst out laughing.

"OK, busted," he said, in a decidedly New Jersey accent. "I really am Jean Paul, and I really am French, at least my mom is, but I grew up in New Jersey. But if I talk like this, no one takes me seriously and I'd never make a sale. I am native fluent in French, because of my mom. I just love Paris."

"Talk however you want," said Amy. "We just thought it was hilarious. So, is it ours now?"

He sent a text and got a quick reply.

"It is," he said. "There is paperwork, but we'll let your financial advisor deal with that. I'm authorized to give you the keys and security codes. You just bought a very nice apartment, and I just made almost two million dollars, which I've probably never made in my life total. You're my heroes." We hear that word a lot, but we're not, in any measure.

"Well, we need to christen our new apartment," said Amy. "Would you like to join in the celebration?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, but I have a lot to celebrate too," he said.

With that, Amy took the straps to her dress and pulled the to the side and let go. Her dress fell down her body, to the floor, leaving her quite naked. No matter how many times I see her, I still am overwhelmed. Jean Paul was too. He just stood their staring.

"Um, uh, I, uh," he said.

"You don't have to," said Amy. "We're done, so you're welcome to leave, but if you stay, I promise to rock your world. If you have the interests, I can assure you Bob will too. We enjoy sex. A lot."

You could see Jean Paul make a decision. It was in his eyes. He pulled his shirt over his head. Damn, he was nicely ripped. I did the same and dropped my shorts. Given I was commando, I was, well, displaying all my glory. He dropped his pants too, and wow. 7 inches, thick and uncut, and quite hard.

"Do you mind?" I asked, pointing. He just nodded. I got down on my knees and took him in my mouth. Amy took his hands and pulled one to her breast, and the other to her pussy. He got the idea and started working on her. We did this for just a few minutes, and Amy pushed me away, and turned and walked to the elevator. We got off and she led us into the master. Let's just say we had a wonderful time, and both Amy and I left dripping. You know what I mean. We did leave with his number in our cellphones. After all, we'd be back to Paris.

I texted Morgan with the address and told them to come here when they were done. I called down to the security desk and asked them to ensure the group could get up. Amy and I thought about joining them, but knew we'd be back a lot, and decided to spend a lazy afternoon in our new home. We made love, twice, and took a nap, out in the sun on the upper deck. It was quite private, so yes, we were naked. That's how everyone found us. Asleep and naked, outside. Honestly, I doubt they would have expected anything different.

"What the hell is this?" said Morgan.

"Our new Paris apartment," replied Amy, looking up at Morgan. "Give me a kiss." That was a non-sequitur, but Morgan being Morgan, she leaned over, took Amy's breast in her hand and gave her one hell of a kiss. Apparently, this motivated Leslie because she came over and gave me a similar kiss, except her hand rested on my now hardening cock. I couldn't resist and started stroking her nipples. Why not? Of course, we had an audience of over 20 people. We broke the kiss, and Amy and I stood and took everyone on the tour. Yes, still naked. I'm couldn't remember exactly where our clothes were but found them in the master bedroom and we got dressed.

"This is fucking amazing," said Morgan, when we returned to that patio. "That's the fucking Eiffel tower, for Christ's sake." OK, that did get her a rebuke for her language, and she laughed.

"Yeah, well, all those words applied," she said, which broke up the group. "You guys buy houses on a whim. It's nuts. But I do love it, and I love Paris. I can't believe you didn't go with us." We assured her that we'd be back and explore a lot. We finally talked about dinner. We didn't know the area at all, but it was filled with interesting small restaurants. We didn't know anyone, or have the clout, to get reservations for this sized group, even if we ate at stupid early American times. We decided to break up in smaller groups and explore. We ended up with Jesse and Julia, along with Clay and Cindy. I'm not sure exactly how that worked out, but it was a really nice group. Clay and Cindy are amazingly well-behaved. We all went out, exploring, agreeing to meet at the apartment after dinner, by 9, or as the French say, 2100. OK, as everybody but the Americans say.

We did get hungry early and ducked into a small Thai place. It was the kid's idea because they love spicy food. I'm not that big on it, but most Thai restaurants have a variety. This one was just steps away from our apartment. It was small, with only a half dozen tables, and not busy at this time of day. An older man came over to the table, and introduced himself as the owner, in English.

"Let me guess," he said. "Americans."

We laughed and admitted we were.

"Yes," laughed Amy. "We get hungry on American time. It's our dinner time." That made him laugh. He asked what we wanted. We suggested that he choose, but I cautioned him I wanted a dish that wasn't hot. He went off, and very quickly our table was covered with food. I was even convinced to try some of the spicier dishes, and they were amazing. They weren't like any Thai I ever had before. They were richly flavorful but didn't burn off your tongue like places I'd been before. The owner came back and asked us how everything was. We asked him to join us, and he pulled up a chair.

"The food was amazing," I said. "I loved it all."

"You tried it all?" he asked. "I'm surprised."

"It was like nothing I had ever tasted. It wasn't burn your mouth hot, like I've had before. It was intensely flavorful. Not at all the same," I said.

"Oh. You've only had American Thai. That's not Thai food, any more than TexMex is Mexican," he said. "It's bastardized for what Americans apparently like. THIS is Thai food."

"Well, we'll be eating here often," said Amy. "We just bought a place a few doors down."

"A few doors down," he said. "There's only one apartment for sale a few doors down. Surely you don't mean the three-floor apartment."

"Yes, that's ours now," said Amy. "We won't be here as often as we'd like because the kids have school in Florida, but we'll pop over regularly."

"You live in Florida and bought THAT place as a vacation home," he said. "You've got to be kidding. What, do you have a mansion in Italy too?"

We all laughed.

"Yes, they do, sir," said Cindy. "We just came from there yesterday." His eyes got wide, and he shook his head.

"Where is your place in Italy?" he asked.

"Outside Venice," answered Amy.

"It's a winery too," said Clay. "But we don't get to drink the wine. Just the adults."

"Wait, wait, wait," he said. "You don't mean the winery", naming the exact winery.

"Yes, that's it," said Amy.

"YOU bought it"," he said. "It's my 'never will have it dream home'. We vacation there. We even feature their wines here, but nobody can afford it, so it tends to age. It does age well though."

"Oh, break out a bottle," said Bob. "Whatever you think will go with what we're eating. Please, please pour yourself a glass. Pour one for everyone. Open a couple bottles. In fact, pour a glass for every customer tonight, on the house. Just put them all on our bill."

"You're kidding," he said. "We get really busy. That could be $20,000 dollars in wine."

"Not to us," said Amy. "You bought it from us, remember?" He jumped up and returned with both a red and a white. Our server brought glasses for everyone, even Clay and Cindy. He poured our choice, and then asked Cindy and Clay what they preferred.

"We don't know," said Cindy. "We've never had it." He waved the server over and got each of them a second glass and poured a little of both for each child.

"You're in Paris," he said. "Even the kids drink wine."

They both tasted it, and apparently liked it. Might as well start them off with the good stuff.

"I like the red," said Clay.

"I like the white," said Cindy.

With that, they traded glasses around, so each got their favorite. Pragmatic kids, aren't they?

We spent the evening there, chatting with him as he had time. It did get busy, but he never pressured us for the table. We saw him offering our wines to each table. All were enthusiastic after the first glass, and I'll bet half the tables bought a bottle.

"This was amazing," he said. "I never thought to offer a free small glass to taste. No way am I charging you for those bottles. I made a solid $40 thousand on wine alone tonight. This is the best night ever in our restaurant. Everyone is shocked that they are Italian wines. We're Francophobes here. I must order more of your wines. I'll do this at least three nights a week if not every night."

Amy pulled out her phone. "What's the address here?" she asked. The owner, who we earlier had found out was Anurat, and his wife was May, rattled off the address. May joined us off and on throughout the evening too.

"OK, I just asked Antonio to ship you a dozen cases, with some variety," said Amy. "Our gift to the owners of our favorite new restaurant." You could see Anurat doing the math.

"You can't, you just can't. Even at our price, that's almost $200,000 of wine. We can't possibly accept it," he said.

"Of course you can," I said. "It's a marketing expense for us. You'll generate word of mouth, and we'll sell more wine. Share it with your friends in the business. My guess is you know other restaurant owners. In fact, is there a local association?"

"Of course," replied Anurat. "This is Paris. There are almost 800 members. I know almost all of them personally."

"OK," said Amy. "You can be a hero to them at your next meeting. Tell them to text their restaurant name and address to this number." She gave them Antonio's business cell number.

"If they do, he'll check and ensure it is truly a restaurant. If so, he'll ship a free case of a selection of our wines," said Amy. "I think they'll all love them, and our sales will spike. It will be an investment. We'd love to make an impact in Paris."

"That's nuts," he said. "That's 800 cases of wine."

"Yep," she said. "But I'll bet it sells 10 or even 20 times that." She texted Antonio to explain what she had promised. He was, well, doubtful, but Amy is the boss, so he agreed. I am happy to say that Amy underestimated the impact. Antonio had to hire to keep up with demand. On average, every restaurant ordered 30 cases. That year. What a huge win. Amy and Antonio started planning to do the same in London, Berlin, Rome, and New York. He said that if we did, he literally couldn't make that much wine. She asked if a nearby winery was for sale, that could make comparable wines. He said there was, next door, and that their wines were a wonderful compliment if we brought them under our brand. That's how a simple dinner of Thai food resulted in us tripling the size of our winery, with Antonio in charge. We doubled his salary, of course. We made a fortune on wine that year and would for years to come. The next month, we bought the winery on the other side. It was five times the size of the two we owned combined. Suddenly we owned the biggest winery in Europe. Apparently, our whims were wildly popular. Jason kept up on the value of our real estate and cars, and all were beating the market.

Being the spontaneous people we are, and, well, unemployed, we decided to stay another day. We went back up to the apartment.

"OK folks," said Amy. "We have 8 beds and 25 people. By my math, that's about 3 people per bed. So, find a bed. Have some fun. Get some sleep. I'm tired of Bob." That got a laugh.

"So, who wants to sleep with me?" said Amy. "Bob can find another bed. I need an adult and a child or two." Every hand in the room shot up.

"Choices, choices," said Amy. "Well, we're going to miss you soon Sophia, so you're my first choice. I'll let you pick another. Anyone you want."

Sophia stood up and made a big production of scanning the room.

"Well," she said. "There are two of us girls, and that's unbalanced. That means we need to people with parts that are different than ours." That got another round of laughs.

"But the beds aren't that big," said Sophia. "So, let's have Clay and Terry."

The boys hopped up and jumped up and down like they'd won the lottery. Well, I guess they had. I ended up with Jesse and Chris. Let me tell you, I didn't get much sleep and the sheets needed changed badly. Luckily, we had daily maid service. I hope they were open minded because I am sure there wasn't a single bed that didn't have a big wet spot. I know I was still leaking in the morning, even though Chris did her best to clean me out.

Amy later shared that the boys had stamina and impressive recuperative powers. When Sophia and Amy were completely worn out, the boys still had the energy for an impressive 69 session. Apparently, it was the night that Terry first came, for real, and Amy said the amount was surprising. The boys ended the night giving each other a facial. Since they hadn't quite fallen asleep yet, Amy cleaned up Clay and Sophia cleaned up Terry. Their last kiss of the night included sharing the cum. Damn, I admit I got hard hearing the story. Did you?

Such friendly neighbors

The kids discovered that there was a pool on the first floor and wanted to swim. Jean Paul had told us that there was no swimwear in the elevators, but there were changing rooms. He also mentioned that most women were topless, and nudity wasn't that unusual, particularly for the kids. Since there were only apartments on three more floors because the one below us was a two-floor townhouse, we didn't expect it to be busy. Most of the adults passed, so Amy, Sophia, Matt and I took all 13 kids down. We got off the elevator and rounded the corner to the pool. We were all tired, so surprisingly quiet, so the people already in the pool didn't notice us. There was a woman on a lounge reading a book, and a few chairs down, a man just lying there watching the kids in the pool. What surprised us, but maybe it shouldn't have given this was Paris, was that EVERYONE in sight was nude. The man was sitting back a bit, and I'm pretty sure he was watching the kids and lazily stroking his cock. He quickly realized we were there and moved his hand, but that couldn't hide the 8-inch (20 cm) cock laying against his stomach. The woman turned towards us and took in the man's cock first and smiled. We kind of invaded the place, with all the kids.

In the pool were four kids. Two boys and two girls. We later found out the boys belonged to the woman and the girls to the man but were all clearly friends.

Chris immediately walked up to the man, looked directly at his cock, then introduced herself. They shook hands and continued to talk, and while they did, Chris stripped for him. Off came the top, then her shorts dropped, leaving him a clear full-frontal view. She then sat right on his chaise, pushing him over a bit and continued talking. She even rested her hand on his leg, dangerously close to his balls.

The woman took all this in, and her eyes clearly brightened when Chris' top came off. This apparently inspired Cindy and Ruby, who walked over and introduced themselves to the woman, while also stripping. The women's eyes just kept going back and forth between the two girls, and when they dropped their shorts, she made no pretense to not look, and just stared. She even licked her lips. All three of the kids then jumped up and ran and jumped in the pool. This was the start of something, and soon there were 17 naked kids in the pool. Amy, Matt, and I didn't see the point in suits, so we stripped off too. I walked over to the man first and introduced myself. Yes, of course I was hard. We were in a room full of nakedness. He sat up and shared his named, while staring right at my cock.

He introduced himself as Adrien, and shared that his girls were Abril and Aubree and were 9 and 10. They lived in an apartment on the second floor, and he was a stay at home Dad, so here at the pool often. Being bold like I am (OK, not really), I asked:

"Is it the little girls or the little boys that gets you hard, or maybe both?" I asked. He looked a little shocked but recovered quickly.

"Both, of course," he said, then laughed.

"Me too," I said, looking down at my own cock, which cause him to look too. Oh, he was bold too because he reached up and gave my cock a quick stroke. I think I liked our new neighbor.

I walked over to the woman, hard on swinging in the breeze, and introduced myself. She didn't even look up, but just kept staring at my cock.

"I am Brielle," she said, while staring. "The two boys are my children, Marcel and Simeon. Marcel is 9 and Simeon is 11. It is a VERY friendly building. We all get together OFTEN. I hope you will join us." With that, she leaned forward and actually took me in her mouth, stroking up and down briefly before letting me slip out. I took the opportunity to sit, pushing her over a bit, and chatted with her while stroking her clit. Just a casual conversation while frigging her. It didn't take long, and she closed her eyes and moaned.

"Oh, you ARE good neighbors," said Brielle. By then, Matt and Amy had walked over. Matt too was hard, and Amy was visibly wet. They introduced themselves, and Brielle connected that Amy was my wife. We explained that we were visiting with friends but made sure to point out our four kids to her. She licked her lips often. We waved the kids over and they stood between Brielle and Adrien, and clearly were putting on a show. Orlando stood next to Morgan and had his arm around her, and his hand grasping her breast. They both just chatted, not saying anything about it, but our two new friends noticed, for sure.

We all swam and relaxed for an hour or so. Finally, Orlando and Morgan came up to talk to us.

"The kids all want to hang out today, with our new friends," said Morgan. "We've invited them up to our apartment. Why don't the adults go sightsee, and I'll watch the kids. Sophia agreed to be a 'kid' today and stay back, so she and I can be in charge."

We didn't see anything wrong with that plan, so agreed. Might as well let the kids scope out the new neighbors in private. We walked over and made sure with Brielle and Adrien were OK with it and they were. We invited them to come tour with us, and they both quickly agreed. They said they could give us the Parisian tour, not the tourist one. They suggest that if we just had the day, we just do the local area, walking. Sounded good to us. I texted Alison with the plan, so they'd be ready. We broke up and said we've meet in the lobby in 20 minutes. With that, the kids headed towards the elevator, carrying their clothes. OK, no swimwear in the elevator apparently means nude is OK. Ah, Paris.

That left the adults in the pool area, all still naked. We pushed the limits a bit because Sophia walked over and climbed up on Brielle's lounge and dove in, licking her. She hadn't gone up yet. By then Adrien was standing, and the sight got him hard again. Well, let's face it, we had a view of Sophia from behind, and her legs were spread enough for quite a view. Apparently, Matt couldn't resist, and dropped to his knees and took Adrien in his mouth. Adrien started pumping in and out, and reached over and started rubbing Amy, quickly inserting a finger. I watched, but admit I stroked myself a bit. Brielle didn't last long, which given Sophia's skills was unsurprising, and neither did Adrien, filling Matt's mouth with cum. Matt stood up and pushed most of it back into Adrien's mouth, but saved some for me too. A nice start to our Paris vacation.

We all dressed and headed to our respective homes and got dressed casually with good walking shoes. All the adults in our group were ready, and we headed down to the lobby and did introductions. We did notice that none of the kids had bothered to dress, so there were fourteen kids running around naked. Sophia went with the flow, so she was the fifteenth naked person in the apartment.

There were fourteen adults in our group, which startled our new friends.

"You all flew in for just a few days? With all those kids, there must be 20 or 25 of you," said Adrien. "That had to be so expensive for such a short trip. And your apartment is amazing! The whole building is jealous." That got a laugh from our group.

Amy did our standard intro spiel, which let them know we could easily afford it.

"To add to what Amy said, we do have our own plane, and it can easily seat us all, so a larger group isn't a problem. We actually flew here from our home outside Venice. Sophia and her two kids, plus Marco and Gianna and their two kids are from Venice, so they'll head back that way. The rest of us came over from Florida. We all go home tomorrow, but hope to be back often," I said. "We hadn't even planned a trip to Paris, or to buy a place, but we are spontaneous."

"You bought an apartment, spontaneously, that listed for $35 million," said Brielle. We just smiled.

"It was less than the day Bob texted me that he'd bought a villa and a winery in Italy," said Amy, which just got her more looks.

"And what private plane holds 25 people?" said Adrien.

"Well, it's a little larger than most," said Amy. "It's a 767." That got more raised eyebrows.

"You people are odd," said Adrien, with a smile. "I think I like that", which got him a laugh. We found out they were both married, and both their spouses were high powered lawyers. They were the stay at home parents, and often found themselves at the pool together. The clear implication was that they enjoyed each other, and that was cool with us.

We started with the expected Eiffel tower visit, and then decided on lunch.

"What's your favorite nearby restaurant, that will take us in shorts, that you would never go to because it is too expensive for even high-powered attorney's spouses?" said Amy. Briene and Adrien looked at each other and named the same restaurant.

"Is it nearby? Could they take a group this large? Our treat," said Amy. They assured us it was, and they could, and we walked over. Brielle spoke to the host, who turned out to be the owner, in French, of course, and we were quickly led to a large private room. Two servers instantly appeared.

"Would you like to choose a wine?" said the server.

"Oh Brielle, why don't you chose a few bottles for the table," said Amy. "Don't worry about the price. Buy wines you wouldn't normally buy." She quickly rattled off three wines, two of which were from our winery. That got her a laugh, which she didn't understand. Why would she?

"Sorry," said Alison. "We didn't mean to laugh, but two of the bottles are from Bob and Amy's winery. We love them."

"What?" said Adrien. "THAT'S the winery you bought? You're the anonymous buyers? Wow. Didn't I read that you just bought the winery next door to expand?" We admitted that yes, it was us, and yes, we had expanded.

"Well, no wonder you can afford the apartment," said Brielle. We shared that it was really just a smaller business for us, but we enjoyed it. That got wide eyes from both our new friends.

"Wait," said Adrien. "I read Forbes. You're the mystery family, aren't you?" We could hardly deny it at that point, so acknowledged we were.

"I just read about you this morning in the Financial Times. One of your businesses went public this morning. They're expecting a closing price that would value your share at over $20 billion," said Brielle.

"Really?" said Amy. "That's nice."

"Wait, wait," said Adrien. "You didn't know? You really didn't know?"

"Well, no," I said. "We have investments in a lot of startups. But that is a big number, even for us. Wow. We must celebrate!"

Just then the door opened, and the owner stepped in.

"I must thank you," he said. "For the generous gift of wines. I recognized you when you came in, and wanted to stop in." He recognized us? Really? Was this going to happen in every restaurant in Paris?

"What do you mean you recognize them?" said Brielle. Thanks, we wondered too.

"Your friends gifted a variety case of wines to every restaurant in town. Over 800 of them. We were told in an email, which included their picture," said the owner. "We were asked to acknowledge them if they came in. Of course we would!" OK, embarrassed again.

"You sent 800 bottles of wine?" said Adrien.

"No, they sent 800 cases of wine," said the owner.

"You sent 800 cases of your wine? For free. That's almost 10,000 bottles. Your wines START at $2,000 a bottle. That's $20 million worth of free wine," said Brielle. She was quick with math in her head.

"Yes," said Amy. "But we expect it to be a profitable investment. The rules are they must do tastings and cannot charge for the wines. Our goal is to increase awareness. Apparently, it is working, at least with the owners." That got a laugh, no one heartier than the owner.

We invited him to join us, and he rattled off an order to the server, in French. The service was truly outstanding. We had been told that you don't tip in Paris, but we're Americans, so we ignored the advice and tipped generously. Lunch was great fun, and we'd added another restaurant to our list.

"Please do come back. Do not bother with reservations," said the owner, who we found out was Deandre. "You will always have a table here." We promised him we would, on every Paris trip. And we would. The food was amazing.

"So, is there a wonderful restaurant that could cater a 35-person party tonight?" I said. That got me looks from everyone.

"We could," said Deandre. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, we thought we'd invite Brielle and Adrien's families to dinner in our new apartment, and would need food," I said. This got grins from everyone.

"Let us take care of it," said Deandre. "If you don't mind, we will choose a menu and arrange it family style, so that you can all sample the dishes. It will be done." That actually got a clap from a few of the folks.

He asked our address and suggested they would arrive to setup at 8 pm. Being Americans, that felt late, but we were in Paris. We could sleep tomorrow on the plane.

"Wait, I know that apartment. Three floors, plus a full floor patio, right?" said Deandre. We said yes, that was it.

"I LOVE that apartment. We have catered there before, but they were just not nice people. We heard they divorced. I am not surprised," said Deandre. "I am so pleased that such a wonderful couple bought the place. It is beautiful. Well, I must go. I will personally see you tonight."

"That's wonderful," said Amy. "Please plan on staying and joining us. Are you married? Do you have a family? Please bring them and add to the food."

"Why yes, I am married, but his name is Cory," said Deandre. "I hope that does not shock you. Or maybe I hope that it does." That got him a laugh, and we assured him it was fine and to bring Cory.

"We have two children, a boy Clark, who is 9, and a girl, Deja, who is 10, but they would be too young to bring," said Deandre. That got a hearty laugh from the table.

"Oh, you must," said Amy. "There will be over a dozen kids their age at the party. They will have a wonderful time. They can all go swim too, but I warn you, the kids seem to think swimsuits are unnecessary. Come early, around 6, it will be fun."

He laughed. "No suits. Well, our children will fit right in. We can't seem to get them to ever wear clothes. But, we're nudists at home, so that is part of it," said Deandre. "We will all see you at 6. I'll call Cory now." Oh good.

We finished lunch and did more walking on a wonderful Paris afternoon. I texted Sophia that dinner was arranged, but would not be until late, so she should ensure the kids had a snack. She texted back that the kids figured out there was a nearby McDonalds, so she was taking them to a late lunch. Sure, we're in Paris and they're eating at McDonalds. Kids.

We walked in the front door to quite a sight. Luca was fucking 9-year-old Abril doggy style, next to Simeon fucking Chris, also doggy style. They all looked up and smiled and continued what they were doing. As we walked about the apartment, there were kids everywhere, fucking and sucking. As we rounded the last corner, there was an adult man, who we didn't know, fucking Orlando in the ass. He smiled and held out his hand to Amy, while still stroking in and out. It turns out he was Brielle's husband Blaise.

"I dropped by to check on our kids, and one thing led to another," said Blaise, which got him a laugh. Just then he stiffened and clearly filled Orlando's ass with cum. He slipped out and stood up, offering his hand to me, with his cum slick cock softening. Amy apparently couldn't resist and dropped to her knees and licked him off.

"Oh my, you are welcoming new neighbors," said Blaise, which got another laugh. Yes, here was an attractive Frenchman, standing their nude, having just fucked our 13-year-old son. New friends!

We shared with him that they were coming to dinner, which seemed to please him, and he left for home.

Everyone arrived a little after 6, and we got to meet Cory and their kids. Damn, Cory was a hunk. Would I get a piece? Less competition, given they were gay. I would later learn, that no, they were most definitely bi. Their children were adorable and soon ran off into the apartment with all the kids. Shortly Leslie came out and asked if they could swim. Tom and Jess offered to watch them, and Leslie shouted to the other kids that they were going swimming. They all came into the living room and started stripping off all their clothes, much to the enjoyment of Deandre and Cory. Cory couldn't keep his eyes off Terry. Oh, interesting. Deandre's focus was on Ruby, which is how we learned they were bi. They're two kids were adorable. Clark had a small 2-inch (5 cm) cock, but it was rock hard. Deja had just the hint of development, not even the puffy tits of Chris, and a prominent clit poking out of tiny lips. She reached over and stroked Marcel's cock a couple times, which made him, and me, happy.

They all headed to the elevator. Tom and Jess walked by, also naked. Well why not.

"You must meet your other neighbors," said Brielle. "We're so glad your family fits into our building so well." Pretty sure that as a signal of fun days ahead.

Tom and Jess returned with all the kids shortly after 8, and everybody got dressed, amid complaints from the kids. Tom shared that he'd gotten an amazing blowjob from Clark, and that Jess had gotten off from Deja's tongue, with a full audience of kids. He seemed pretty happy about it. I can understand why.

The food arrived at 8:15, which meant that by 8:30, we were enjoying a glorious dinner. The two servers stayed to serve, and they'd brought a wide selection of wines. The kids were very excited that they got to drink too, but we were careful with their quantities. Even so, it was clear the very youngest were a little tipsy. Oops. Tom, Jess, Alison, and Leslie abstained. Alison was getting some seat time tomorrow too.

The party went strong until after midnight, but finally broke up. Almost all the kids were scattered around the house, sound asleep where they sat, and all naked. We hadn't even really noticed them strip, but well, they did. Our guests picked up their kids, and we suggested they just take blankets from the linen closet. We told Cory to just keep them, but they were welcome back any time. The guests from our building promised to launder and return theirs. OK, but we didn't care.

Paris was fun. We'd be back soon.

Mo' money

"One of your investments from the VC fund went public. You just made $12 billion," said Jason. "Not the same one as yesterday. You made $20 billion on that one. Enjoy the flight home."

I showed the text to Amy, and she screamed, which brought our kids running. By the time they got there, Amy was losing it laughing. I took that as an opportunity to pull up my pants. Yes, I was still waving in the wind.

"What's going on Mom?" said Orlando. She shared the story and then everyone was screaming.

"You make $12 billion, while riding your jet home from your new house in Paris, in addition to the $20 billion you made yesterday," said Blake. "Damn."

Yeah, damn.

Everybody napped a little, especially our pilots, who traded off flying. Either Tom or Jess was always in the cockpit, and Alison and Leslie traded off. Alison was more comfortable in the right seat, but Leslie insisted on flying Captain. We would not expect less.

With the time change, we landed not that much later than we took off, around lunchtime. Given it was past dinner for our body clocks, we called ahead and ordered a ton of Chinese food delivery. It arrived minutes after we did. We'd called and asked the security team if they wanted food, so we got enough for them too.

Our body clocks were a mess, so everybody headed home after dinner, and our family hit the sack early. No fun that night. We were dead to the world.

Email me. Comments, ideas, and suggestions welcome

End of Chapter