Separating Riches Read Free Page B

living room. My chair was sitting on a riser, so that I would be elevated above everyone else, as befitting the queen of the party. My goal was to let them know that Blackie Blackstone was in the house, but also to shock the shit out of these kids and give them the night of their lives.
    My cocktail waitress was dressed in a see-through apron and nothing else, and the bartender wore nothing more than a bowtie. Both of them were deliciously female. I licked the rim of my crystal rock glass, dredging for the last drop of that exalted Scotch whiskey, as I watched the waitress work the room. Everywhere I looked there were hot, firm, naked, horny girls, giggling and jiggling, drinking, carousing, dancing, and kissing. It didn’t matter that the majority of them were straight, what mattered was that they were willing to experiment, and I was willing to be their teacher.
    My cellphone vibrated and I opened it up as the waitress floated over and filled my glass again. It was a text from an unknown number. It read -“IWSN!” I looked around the room to see who would be asking for sex now, but it looked to me like all of them did. I texted back, “Show yourself first.” A chubby girl wearing glasses, walked up. I shook my head. I don’t do ugly. “Sorry, not tonight… or ever.” She walked away dejected.
    “What about me?” A gorgeous blonde with large teeth and boobs to match walked up. I was instantly impressed with how uninhibited she seemed, standing there completely naked, her beautiful body glistening under the party lights. I was also instantly aroused.
    “Right this way,” I drooled, leading her to my bedroom.
    I had every girl who wanted it that night, including the ones who were too drunk to walk. I even screwed the ugly ones, but I was completely wasted by then. I only know this because one of the few straight girls who had declined my offer told me that she thought I had set a national record. Unfortunately, I woke up the next day in the chemistry lab at college, with no memory of how I got there or why. I was stretched out on the counter with an empty whiskey bottle in my hand. In fact, I still had a little buzz going that was rapidly dissolving into a bitch of a hangover. My jacket was gone, along with my watch and wallet, but at least I had some clothes on. Amazingly, there was a student in the lab on a Saturday, and it was that weasel John Mooney, who I had hired to help me with my chemistry class. The bastard was laughing at me.
     
     

 
    Chapter Two
     
    Party Planner ‒‒ Felicia Livingston , Chris Livingston and Norma Shelby
     
    I get the feeling that the girls aren’t too enthusiastic about hosting this fundraising dinner, and I don’t understand why. I love these dinners. Not only do I get to plan every detail, but I am handed checks for thousands of dollars at the end of the dinner. It’s a wonderful feeling to be able to tell my charity that I just raised $100,000 for them. I hope that Christine will be able to collect that much with this fundraiser, but if she doesn’t put her heart into it, I’m not sure she will.
    I was so proud of my daughter for pulling herself up out of that gutter, literally, to become a respected young lady of society. She has such a refreshing outlook on life now, one that she is fiercely protecting. And I’m glad she is. I know it’s what she has to do to keep from drinking again, but I think she may be too stringent with her rule of no alcohol at the dinner. Most benefactors won’t give up their money without having something to lubricate their wallets first.
    “Honey, I think you’re making a mistake not having alcohol at the dinner. It’s one of the most important tools a fundraiser can have. And it is expected at a sit down dinner,” I explained to Chris.
    “Then don’t let them sit down,” Chris retorted with a smirk.
    “Oh no, dear,” Norma said. “It’s much too hard for people to eat standing up. I’ve ruined many a gown at parties like