How to use your Genie - Sex Stories

How to use your Genie

... didn't know was that I'd given up volunteering soon after finishing college. Volunteering doesn't pay the bills.

"Yeah," I replied to Frank, "The foundation is thriving!"

"That's good to hear," Frank said, "Your grandfather established that foundation intending for you to lead it someday."

"I'm aware, I'm aware," I replied, feeling a sense of relief. "You've always told me how he had high hopes for me and how proud he was."

The journey to the estate felt interminable. The property was sequestered deep within an isolated landscape, far removed from urban life. As we trundled along the driveway, I found myself questioning its seemingly endless stretch. Indeed, the driveway alone was lengthier than my daily commute to work.

We swept past several quaint residences, all situated within the estate grounds, until we reached the heart of the property - the main house. Its grandeur was sudden and awe-inspiring, materializing out of nowhere.

The house was an architectural titan, easily dwarfing my modest apartment complex. To call it a 'house' felt like an understatement.

Frank assigned each of us to our individual rooms, encouraging us to settle in and rest. He informed us that the funeral was scheduled to begin punctually at 4 PM.

With a few hours to spare, I meandered through the colossal mansion, aimlessly exploring its corners.

Priceless artwork, undoubtedly the creations of renowned artists, adorned the mansion walls.

"An art enthusiast, perhaps..." ...

... I mused to myself, trailing along an extensive corridor.

Upon discovering what appeared to be a library, I felt an overwhelming sense of stepping into a historical archive. Artifacts spanning centuries, tokens from various civilizations, were meticulously displayed.

From what I'd gathered, an auction selling all his possessions had occurred a few days prior. The proceeds were designated to fund his numerous foundations.

"How could one man amass such wealth, yet withhold it from his own family?" I contemplated, transfixed by the opulence around me.

The funeral was protracted. A string of unfamiliar faces delivered eulogies, people I'd never met, hailing from all corners of the globe. They offered nothing but praise for my grandfather. Their speeches mirrored one another, the same effusive sentiments echoing time and again.

Ironically, my father was the only family member who addressed the gathering, and his words were succinct.

As the funeral service concluded, we proceeded to the reception. My family and I felt like strangers in this setting. It was unsettling. We were all anxious to board the next flight home.

My family wasn't destitute. My parents earned a reasonable income that allowed us a comfortable lifestyle, albeit devoid of luxuries. But I was aware of the hard work they put in to provide for us. Witnessing my grandfather's ostentatious wealth felt like a blatant affront.

I graduated from a modest city college, majoring in business, a decision ...