Flying the Dominant Billionaire

Strange Perversions

Leonardo (Leo)

5 years ago

Young Leonardo turned up the volume on his car radio as he joined the Friday night weekend traffic flowing towards the New York City on the Mass Pike. He used to look forward to going back to his Long Island home after the grueling five day, work- study week in Boston.

His father wasn't happy with his choice of college. Riccardo Lombardi had insisted that Leo join Harvard for his MBA, but Leonardo wasn't going to be pushed into figuring out what he wanted for his life. His dad had given up on the privilege of calling the shots, long time back when he had chosen their business over family time.

Leonardo was born with a silver spoon, privileged and demanding. He always got what he wanted. So he went to MIT Sloan instead, just a little bit further down Charles River.

He, almost did not have a father all through his teenage years. Riccardo Lombardi had no time for family as he was consumed by work. He was growing his legacy and compensated for his absence by providing more than what his son or his wife could have ever wished for. There was nothing money couldn’t buy.

His wife and Leonardo's mum, the beautiful and eminent Sophia, a Greek singer born in Crete, led a double life.

In plain sight, she spent her time pursuing the pastimes of the rich, collecting wine, paintings and antiques, organising expensive soirees and travelling around the world as the brand manager for Papa Lombardi’s. But Leo knew about her dangerous liaisons with rich and powerful men around the world. The woman ruled from behind the scenes.

With a GMAT score of 760 Leonardo could have gotten into any of the top business schools. He did not require a scholarship and was going to be a regular paying student. He chose MIT over Harvard as he wanted to continue his practice for professional kickboxing with the MIT Kickboxing Club. It was his passion, the only way that he could let of steam and feel human again.

It was also his way of telling his father that he was capable of taking his own decisions and did not really need him around. Leo knew he was going to inherit the family business no matter what and did not care a dime about his father’s legacy.

He was going to make Papa Lombardi’s the number one Pizza company in the world. Anything shy of that would not whet his ambition. He was going to stand out, independent to what his father had done with the company.

John Denver's voice glided through the car speakers. He was singing Country Roads on 98.9 Nash Icon.

Leo joined in, whistling the tune. He loved listening to country music while driving. It relaxed him. He pushed the pedal on his 2007 Mustang Shelby GT 500 revving the engine and touching the seventy mph speed limit on the I90.

Take me home, to the place.... I belong....West Virginia... He continued whistling to the rustic tune of , I am actually going home.

He could have done 90 mph and reached his home on Long Island in under three hrs. The Mustang could handle that speed with ease, but he had already got two speeding tickets within twelve months and had refused an alcohol test.

Another offence and he would have to reach out to Senator Hilby’s office to keep his license. Although the Senator would help them wriggle out of sticky situations by pulling threads, he did not want to take a favour for such a minor matter. The NYC Senator was their family friend.

The plump, good natured fellow from Georgia would exclaim with a wink and a drawl, "And 'ere we go mudding again."

By the time he pulled up in front of the large estate house in East Hampton it was past ten at night. He pressed the automatic gate opener button installed inside the car and the enormous, ornate wrought iron driveway gates started to swing open slowly, revealing the imposing mansion inside with sprawling gardens in front of the patio.

The house was dark with only a few windows in the rooms upstairs, lit up.

He drove in and raised his eyebrows spotting his mother's car in the garage. He wasn’t expecting her to be home. She had been away touring in Asia, working on Papa Lombardi launches in some countries in the Indo-Pacific.

He parked his car next to his Mum’s deep red Bentley. Sophia loved the Continental Flying Spur and had spent hours with him discussing the customizations she wanted in the car to suit her distinctive taste.

Leonardo always had mixed feelings about bumping into her. On one hand he missed his mother and on the other he despised the way she indulged in men. She had exceptionally good looks and charming features. In childhood he believed she was a fairy. He wondered how and when he had started hating her.

Years back, during summer, when he would return home from high school he would find Sophia doing yoga on the sprawling sun deck of their beach front home with that Indian old boy yoga guru and some of her friends, sweating in the sun. They would all be in their underwear and indulge in weird postures. Sometimes done individually and sometimes together.

His young impressionable mind found it difficult to not stare at the unusual scene. Watching the yoga practice soon turned into a habit as his teenage body responded to to it in a curious manner.

Sophia soon found out that her young son secretly enjoyed watching her doing yoga. In her own twisted way she relished the feeling and would sometimes strip in front of him while doing the poses.

Leonardo remembered how he would blush at her unbridled exhibitionism. He would feel confused and ashamed as his d*ck responded to seeing his mother’s beautiful body contorting in ways he could not imagine.

Sometimes Sophia would catch him m*sturbating behind the French doors, his hand groping his wanker inside his pants.

“Don’t keep patting the trouser snake or it would spit”, laughing, she would ridicule him and walk away, swaying her beautiful and shapely ass as she went.

He felt contrite and angry as his p*nis would still find the release inside his boxers. He felt like breaking something! It was both frustrating and humiliating at the same time. He hated feeling that way and he hated how his body reacted. He hated himself.

He hoped he did not have to meet his mother. That would ruin his weekend. Thankfully the house was big enough to avoid other members when you did not want to meet them. Plus his family valued privacy and no one would bother him until he reached out to them.

Keeping his fingers crossed, he slipped inside the mansion using his spare key on the Yale lock at the main entrance. He did not want to alarm his wonderful housekeeper. Tonight, Ma Yaya knew he was coming and would have kept some dinner for him.

The gentle, motherly Filipino, Yaya Garces, had looked after their home and it’s visiting residents from the time Leonardo could remember.

Ma Yaya had taught Leonardo how to pray, how to be grateful for the things he had and most of all how to be a good human being. She had understood him and guided him when he felt lost or he would have ended a junkie. She was the mother that Sophia could never be.

He saw a few cloches covering some plates on the sixteen seater Victorian dining table. The wood and stone table had a spread of delicious smelling food and he felt a pang of hunger, knowing what a good chef Ma Yaya was.

Ma was very predictable and would never let him go hungry, he smiled. She would have cooked a Sunday roast for him, with his favorite jacket potatoes and broccolini.

The silver gravy boat sitting on the table next to the sterling candle stand looked appetising. Mmm! Ma's gravy! Yum!! His mouth watered as the mild aroma reached his nose.

She had dimmed the lights in the overhead chandeliers and lit some candles for him. Leonardo smiled at the welcoming arrangement, feeling content that he was home. He could call this place home only because of Ma Yaya!

But first a cold shower. He crossed the dining room, went into the hall and climbed the grand bifurcated staircase which rose from the center of the large foyer. The red carpet on the stairs muffled the sound of his feet.

As he came up the stairs, he heard a raucous giggle at the top of the steps and froze. He quickly turned towards his bedroom to avoid meeting the person upstairs.

But, his mother ran out of her bedroom at the opposite end of the stairwell, completely oblivious to his presence.

Sophia wore a sheer peach negligee that hugged her attractive frame, with her firm breasts straining against the flimsy fabric. As she turned back to look, in mid flight, Leonardo followed her gaze towards her now ajar bedroom door.

Senator Hilby emerged from it, completely n*ked, with a lacy peach thong hanging from his mouth. His mullet disheveled, he was holding a black leather whip in his right hand. Red body hair covered his rotund body, his p*nis at attention, as he growled at Leo's mother.

A wave of disgust rose inside Leo and he felt like throwing up. His anger peaked, consuming his senses. The b***h is at it again!

He turned around towards the staircase in a quick motion to avoid looking at them. The movement caught the attention of both his mother and the Senator.

Ignoring them, he moved towards the stairs and crossed his mother, who made neither any sound nor any attempt to stop him.

He dashed down the stairs, stormed out of the house, ramming the front door as he headed out towards his waiting Mustang.

With trembling hands he shoved the key into the ignition, willing the car to come to life. Start! God damn you!! The car roared to life as he slammed his foot on the pedal.

He reversed the car. His eyes landed on his mum's car standing proudly. The color of the Bentley merged with the red in his eyes and he smashed his Mustang into the car, finding perverse pleasure in inflicting damage on the unassuming machine.

The head on collision completely destroyed the Bentley’s side. The b***h won’t be able to enter her baby from the driver’s side anymore.

The tires squealed as his Mustang pulled out of the driveway with minimal damage. The Ford Shelby was built like a battering ram. He loved his bad boy!

He drove out pressing his foot on the gas, the increasing speed soothed his nerves. The mild fragrance of pine from the freshener in the car calmed him. The comfort of his car pacified his raging emotions.

For hours he drove mindlessly through the broad streets trying to figure out where he would go next. A knot of sadness clammed his throat.

He had nowhere to go!

*****