Message-ID: <22166asstr$947167801@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
X-Original-Path: not-for-mail
From: xxspillerxx@my-deja.com
Lines: 599
X-Original-Message-ID: <850vfu$up1$1@nnrp1.deja.com>
X-Article-Creation-Date: Thu Jan 06 02:43:13 2000 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} TO INHERIT A FACTORY, part 1 <*>
Date: Thu, 6 Jan 2000 09:10:01 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/22166>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: assm-admin
TO INHERIT A FACTORY, part 1
by Spiller.
------------------------------------------------
And the usual disclaimers: If you are too young,
too prudish or suffer the ill fate to live in a
place where erotic litterature is not welcomed,
please stay offfffffffffff.
------------------------------------------------
This story is copyrighted by Spiller. You are
welcome to download it and mail it to a good
friend, but it is forbidden to publish it
without specific, written permit by Spiller.
-------------------------------------------------
When Arthur Olsen and his beautiful wife were killed in an auto crash,
quite a few people were sad but nobody was surprised. Arthur could best be
described as a 'bon vivant' who had shown great skill and fortune, building
and expanding a margarine factory. He was a very wealthy man. His love
for pretty women and fast cars was well known, so only a few were surprised
that he was killed in a crash.
A few days after the funeral his two sons were called to the family
lawyer's office for the reading of the will. Jonathan, the older of the
two, was an efficient businessman, and after his education was finished, he
had worked in the family business. Jonas, the younger of the two, had
inherited his mother's talent for music, and at the age of 25 he was now an
educated but not very well known composer.
Apart from all the legal mumble jumble and the conditions should his
wife have survived him, the will boiled down to:
"To my son Jonathan I leave my factory on the following conditions: 25%
of the profits - but never less than 100.000 dollars a year - shall be
given to Jonas, and future changes in the structure of the business can
only be made if the two can agree. To my son Jonas I leave my Morgan
sportscar and my small factory in Italy on the condition that he maintains
it as the social experiment it is. The present manager, Signora Mandelli,
can be reached at Via Regia Mirabile ......" The amount of cash in my
different bankaccounts will be about 600.000 dollars which are to be
divided equally between the two."
As Jonas and Jonathan had always been good friends, but never really
close, they just accepted what they had been given, although the 'small
factory in Italy' was a bit of a mystery to them. They knew that their
father now and then had gone to Italy to sort out 'things', but he had
never revealed the nature of this business.
Three weeks later Jonas packed his favourite keyboard into the Morgan,
and on a bright Saturday morning he drove up in front of an old building in
Via Regia Mirabile. There were many names on the list inside the front
door, but Signora Mandelli's was not there. For a short moment he was
afraid his father had made a joke on him, but when he asked for Signora
Mandelli at the baker's on the corner, he was told that she had moved out
one week ago and that she was now living at 'the factory'. The kind baker
told him to look for the big, red building by the lake at the end of the
road.
Jonas braked hard when he caught sight of the building. It was huge! 4
stories high, close to 60 meters long, built on the rocks right on the
shore with a magnificent view of the lake and the Alps in the distance. It
was meticulously maintained and bore no trace of industrial activities.
The enormous windows towards the lake was the only evidence of the
factory's age and nature.
He started the Morgan again and drove down to the lake. An open gate in
the fence allowed him to drive into the yard in front of the building.
Well kept lawns and flowerbeds bordered the narrow gravel road up to the
front door, and as he brought the Morgan to a halt at the huge front door
he could not help himself: He honked the strong horn of the small car.
A minute or two later the door opened, and two women ran down the stairs
and shouted: Hi, Arthur. Oh, Arthur, you are back?
When Jonas pulled off the black leather helmet he had found in the
Morgan, the women looked very disappointed at first, and with a suspicious
stare at him asked: "and who are you then?"
"Good morning, ladies. I'm Arthur's son, and I seem to have inherited
this place. Can you tell me where I can find Signora Mirandelli?"
The oldest of the two, an extremely pretty woman, who looked to be
somewhere in her late thirties (but he always found it difficult to
estimate the age of those Mediterranean women) stepped forward and said:
"I'm Signora Mirandelli. And why are you here and not Arthur?"
"My father was killed in an accident 3 weeks ago, and he has left me
this factory."
She turned round and said something in Italian to the younger woman, who
then disappeared into the building. When Mirandelli turned back to him he
saw the beginning of tears in her beautiful black eyes.
"You must be Jonas, then. Arthur has told us a lot about you."
It was only at that moment that Jonas started to wonder that they called
his father by his first name.
"How much has he told you about this place?"
"Not a thing. All I know is, that he went here often, but he never told
any of us about the place. So kindly explain to me what all this is
about."
Jonas got out of the powerful little car, and he was in for another
surprise. Mirandelli put her left arm round his shoulder, kissed him on
his cheek and guided him towards the front door.
"I'm terribly sorry about your father. We all loved him very much, but
we didn't know anything about his death. So we are just as anxious to know
better as you are."
They had reached the big door, and once inside she said: "Let's go to my
office and have a little talk to clear things out, and then we'll have to
meet all the others."
Her small but beautiful office was on the ground floor with an exquisite
view of the lake through the huge old-fashioned factorywindow.
"So you own this factory now? And you don't know anything about it?"
"No. My father's will only said something about a 'social experiment'
and that he hoped I'd keep it up as such."
"We sure hope so too!"
She looked Jonas into his eyes as if she was probing to find an answer
to that question.
"I'd love to, if only I knew what it is all about."
"Well, to tell it the short way: Your very dear father has lent us this
factory. He started out in the traditional way hiring workers and
producing margarine. After a few years he realised that unmarried mothers
were having a very hard time in Italy. That's when he changed everything
and why we all love him so much." Once again Jonas noticed Signora
Mirandelli's eyes getting wet and shiny, and she was having a hard time not
to cry.
"You know, signora, it warms my heart to see that you are so sorry that
my father is dead. I loved him very much myself, and I am still in grief
over it. Tell me more about this place - maybe I can put you at ease as
far as the factory's future is concerned."
"Well, again to put it shortly: This factory can only hire unmarried
mothers. The buildings were still Arthur's, but he resigned from taking
out any profits from the production. They were all supposed to be used for
the benefit of the mothers and their children. He built about 25 nice
apartments on the top floor, started a day-care centre on the third floor,
and then he left it to us all to cooperate, elect our own leaders and run
the factory as a commune."
"Wow, the old guy always had a streak of a socialist in him, but when it
came to business he was just as tough as any other guy. I'm happy to hear
this."
"Today we are all having a wonderful life here. The production is
running smoothly, we have very, very low 'sick days off', the girls are
respected in town, and we all have a fairly high income, though we spend a
lot of money keeping the place up to the standard we all want to live in."
"I noticed that, coming in here. Not much of a factory to look at."
"That's the way we want it. And about once a month Arthur would come
down here to give good advice and to liven up the place."
"Yes, you can tell me that. He was always the one for a good party and
a fine woman. All his life."
"Mmmm. That's one of the other reasons we loved him so much. When he
arrived the 'girls' were close to fighting for a chance to be with him,
because he was so much fun and such a wonderful lover."
"I am not sure I can live up to that reputation - I really don't know
that side of his life very well - but I'd sure be willing to give it a
try."
"And what about the factory. Would you be willing to give it a try? We
all know, that the buildings are yours, but we hope you are not going to
sell them."
"You know, I don't think I will. I'm a composer, not a businessman.
I'm secured a fair income for the next many years. On the other hand this
place could bring me a lot of inspiration for my work. Do you have an
apartment where I can stay when I'm down here?"
Mirandelli jumped up and impulsively dragged him to the windows.
"Look down there. That place looking like a boathouse - with the
balcony built so it reaches out over the lake? That's Arthur's house.
Maybe we should call it Jonas' house from now on?"
"Why not uphold the name to keep the memory of him alive?"
"Oohh. That memory will live for a long time anyway."
"All right, signora. Will you be my interpreter? My Italian is almost
non existing, but I hope to learn it quickly. I have an announcement to
make. At what time will you be able to get all the women together so I can
make a speech to them?"
"I'm sure I can guess what's going on in the factory right now. Angela
has told the others that Arthur has died, and right now they are probably
not producing any margarine at all. They will be sorry to have lost Arthur
and they'll be scared that they'll loose their good life."
"Well, lady. Let's go and put that fear to death."
"You really mean it? You're going to let us continue?"
"Yes, I sure am. Why kill a good thing to make it a factory like
thousands others."
Mirandelli turned round. She was one big smile. She threw her arms
round Jonas and kissed him enthusiastically. She made small quick jumps of
joy which made her beautiful breasts jiggle in the most inticing way. Then
she grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the office. She was almost
running out into the hall. There she pressed a button, and suddenly a loud
ringing sounded through the whole building.
"Come. This way."
She dragged him to the lift and a minute later they were on the first
floor. They stepped into a brightly coloured factory hall with all the
familiar machines. About 40 young women were gathered there, and a few
were still coming in through various doors.
Mirandelli raised her hand and all talking stopped. She said something
in Italian out of which Jonas could only understand his own name and that
of Arthur's. She turned to him and said:
"And now it's your turn. I haven't revealed anything yet."
Jonas braced himself for the unusual situation. He was definitely not
used to make speeches.
"Ladies", he started.
"I bring you the sad news, that my father Arthur Olsen has been killed
together with my mother, in a car crash."
Mirandelli translated. Jonas studied the faces of some of the women,
and it was clear to him, that they already knew, and that they were
genuinely sorry and a bit scared.
"First of all I want to put you at ease concerning your future: I'm not
going to change anything !"
When Mirandelli finished her translation a loud roar of appreciation -
hurrahs, yeeows, thank God's, etc. broke out. The women were hugging each
other, clapping their hands, and a few came up to Jonas to shake his hands.
He raised his hands, and again everything went dead quiet.
"I'm going to stay for a while in Arthur's house so I can get to know
you better. I don't speak any Italian, but I hope a few of you can help me
and give me some lessons. Any of you speak English?"
5 or 6 hands were raised, and Mirandelli said to him in a low voice:
"And I'd love to bee your teacher too. Unless you think I'm too old,
that is."
"I couldn't wish for a more exciting and beautiful teacher. And you're
not that much older than I am."
He raised his hands again.
"I hope there will be time to arrange for a dinner party tonight. I
want you all to come and to bring your children too. Let's make this
evening a party in the memory of Arthur and in the hopes we all have for
the future."
Again a loud roar broke out. The women were dancing, clapping their
hands, waving to him and blowing him kisses with their fingers.
Mirandelli said a few words in Italian, and they all started getting
back to their different workstations. On the way a few of them made short
comments to Mirandelli and smiled suggestively to her.
"What was all that about?"
"Well, I told them to get to work and that I'd get you settled in at
Arthur's house. And then I'd need a few of them to help me set up the
party for tonight."
"And what were those other comments?"
Mirandelli turned red in her face and said: "Well, actually they told me
not to wear you out. They wanted you to be ready for tonight's party."
Now it was Jonas' turn to get the red cheeks. He was beginning to get
the gist of what his dear father had been doing down here, and to tell you
the truth it was no surprise to him and he sure looked forward to keep up
everything in his spirit.
"You can leave your car here, if you want, but you can also take the
backroad which is used by the lorries who pick up our produce."
"Then you'll have to show me. Jump in."
She directed him back to the baker's corner, down another road, and this
time they approached the factory from the other end. Jonas could see a few
lorries loading goods, and then she directed him down another gravel path
which led to Arthur's house. He picked up his keyboard and the suitcase
and followed Mirandelli who had unlocked the front door.
Never in his life had Jonas seen such a beautiful room. The hall was
built of shiny and very old, dark timber and boards, and it opened into a
huge single room. The blue light from the lake was the first you noticed,
and then he looked around to absorb the wonderful furniture which filled
the room. Age old antiques and the most avantgarde Italian designs in
steel, glass and slate. In one end of the room was a small kitchen, and in
the other the only door of the room. Jonas figured it was the bedroom
door. He put down his keyboard and said:
"I guess it's the bedroom down there. That's where I put my suitcase?"
"Yes it is."
He started going down there, but Mirandelli intercepted him:
"I hope you knew your father well."
"Oh, well ... Yes I think so."
"Just so that his bedroom isn't going to surprise you."
"Well, I know that he was always a horny bastard, and his taste for
women was fine. I never understood why my mother put up with his
escapades, but apparently she loved him very much."
"Just like we do down here. Then I can let you in without getting
embarrassed."
She opened the door and stood aside. The bedroom was Sybaritic. A huge
circular bed took up the centre of the room. Mirrors were everywhere, even
in the ceiling. Pillows, blankets, chairs and carpets were spread all
over, and a few Japanese erotic pictures left nothing to the imagination.
Jonas dropped his suitcase on the bed and asked:
"The bathroom?"
"It's right in here." The door opened into a marble bathroom with 3
showers, a huge whirlpool, benches of different kinds, plus a door to a
toilet plus bidet.
"God, I could use a whirlpool right now. I've been driving all night,
and I'm stiff and dirty. Could you kindly show me how to work that thing?"
He pointed to the control panel on the wall which looked more like an
airplane cockpit than the simple pool they had had in their house in
Copenhagen.
Mirandelli blushed again and said:
"Well, I could. But you see from the position of that panel, that I'd
have to join you in the bath to reach it. And I feel a little bit
apprehensive about you being 10 or 11 years younger than I am."
"Signora Mirandelli, I...."
"Better call me Sarah, she smiled.
"You are one very beautiful woman, Sarah, and I can't tell how I look
forward to have a bath with you."
"All right. This whirlpool takes 15 minutes to fill up. Why don't you
go to the terrace, and I'll bring us a couple of drinks while it does."
The sliding doors opened to a terrace built of exquisite dark cedar
wood. It had a magnificent view and at the same time it was very sheltered.
Nobody could watch what was going on there, there was a roof covering half
of the terrace creating shade and shelter at the same time. Once again the
furniture was suggestive of things going on there, only this time a bit
more subtle than in the bedroom. But the chairs, benches, tables of
different sizes were all there. Jonas slumped down in a very comfortable
armchair and waited for Sarah to bring the drinks.
When she finally came out onto the terrace with a little tray in her
hands, she had changed her clothes for an extremely beautiful housecoat
made of creamy white silk which clung to her perfect body. Jonas felt the
bloodpressure rising in his whole body.
“My, you ARE a perfect vision.”
Sarah blushed a little, made a small movement with her head which made
her long, black hair swing around her head and then settle like a black
cat, resting on her shoulder.
“I bring you Arthur's favourite for this time of the day: A dry white
wine with sparkling water. Good for the thirst and not too strong.”
“I love that drink too. And I bet you were his favourite ‘dish’.”
“I wouldn’t say that, but Arthur was my favourite man.”
“Come and sit in my lap.” Jonas patted his thighs.
“This is still so incredible to me. You have to tell me a little bit
more. For instance I get the impression that daddy bedded quite a few of
you girls, didn’t he?”
She nodded and smiled.
“Now, I want you to be honest with me. I hope he didn’t put any
pressure on you, or that you would have to.... you know, in order to be
able to run the factory your way. I neither would or could take advantage
of you or the other women.”
“Oh, no, no.” She shook her head and smiled.
“We were all very, very fond of Arthur, like I told you before. He was
such a kind and funloving man, and I guess half of the girls were in love
with him ! In Italy, you know, it’s not that easy to find a good man who
would accept that his girlfriend or wife had a child with another man. And
a lot of the girls here don’t want a boyfriend at all. They are doing fine
on their own, living a sheltered and rich life and they only have to answer
to themselves. The only disadvantage is that at times the supply of
hormones here tend to rise out of proportion. And then Arthur came:
Handsome, funny, horny and wild !” Her smile was genuinely sweet and
erotic.
“And now you are curious if I’m the kind of man my father was?”
“And I’m not the only one ! Actually I was asked to seduce you today
and report back to the other girls what kind of a man you are !” With that
she raised her glass, winked at Jonas, and they drank half a glass. She
leaned over and placed her glass on the small table, then she took Jonas’
and placed beside it. Her arms raised and she threw them around his neck.
He saw the tips of her enticing breasts raise with the movement, and then
she started kissing him. She had such a sweet smell and taste. Her lips
were soft and shiny, and while he truly enjoyed her kiss he let his right
hand move up to cup that lovely tit. It was firm and not too big. Jonas
could feel her hard nipple through the thin silk. When he slipped his hand
into her housecoat he could really enjoy the firmness of her tit. Warm,
smooth, very firm and with very big nipples.
Jonas could feel her pulse going up. Then she lowered her arms, pushed
him a little away from her and said with a smile:
“I thought we were going to have a bath, weren’t we?”
She got up from his lap, pulled at his hand to get him out of the chair,
and at the same time she opened the belt of her housecoat, letting it fall
open to reveal her beautiful lightbrown body. Small, pert breasts, a flat
tight belly and a delicious, trimmed jet-black bush.
In the bathroom she proceeded undressing Jonas, and when he was stark
naked she finally shed her housecoat. Together they immersed in the
swirling water. Jonas relaxed for a short moment with closed eyes. The
long night’s driving was coming to him now, but on the other hand the
strong jets of warm water relaxed his muscles and he felt halfway tired and
halfway he lusted for Sarah’s beautiful body.
“Stand up, Jonas. I want to soap that lovely, slim body you’ve got.”
When he was standing she soaped his whole body using her hands. Soft
and delightful they were, and when she started washing his cock and balls
his cock rose to the occasion and paid her a compliment she couldn’t
overlook.
“Oh, my. You are certainly not as strong and broad as your father, but
in this department you live up to my highest expectations. I think your
cock is both longer and wider than your father’s.”
“I can’t answer to that, ‘cause I have never seen his - at least not in
this condition,” Jonas said.
“But you sure can make it grow. Now, let me wash you a little so I can
feel your beautiful body in my hands.”
Of course he paid special attention to her pert breasts and her trimmed
cunt. It was a delight to feel her up with his hands full of soap. When
he had finished washing her he slowly lowered her into his lap with her
back to him, and she elegantly obliged by impaling herself on his strong
and fat cock. He had his arms round her and was cupping her breasts. When
he pinched both her nipples at the same time she let out a deep sigh.
“Oh, this is lovely. My breasts love what you are doing to them. And
my cunt certainly also enjoys to be filled like this.”
Jonas stretched out one hand and played with some of the controls on the
side of the whirlpool. A few of them served to change the direction and
power of the jets, and quickly he directed the nearest to hit Sarah right
on her clit. His own balls were bouncing around in the jet, and pretty
soon Sarah was screaming out her first orgasm. The feeling of her vagina
spasming round his fat cock was out of this world and he was close to
coming himself.
“God, this was lovely,” she smiled to him.
“Yes it was. This pool sure has a lot of possibilities. - But now I
want to go into the bedroom and make love to you on that big bed. Come,
Sarah.”
They dried off in a hurry, and a few minutes later Jonas was exploring
her beautiful body with his hands and mouth. Her cunt tasted divine. It
was cleaned and fresh, but the plentiful juices running out of her had an
exciting musky smell and taste. Jonas felt his cock grow even a little bit
thicker and he groaned:
“I have to get it into you now, Sarah. Spread your legs for me.”
With a smile she lifted her bent legs and spread them as wide as she
could.
“Give me that fat cock and fill me up,” she groaned. She reached down
and guided him into her hot cunt, and Jonas felt the heat build up in him.
He started pounding her slender body hard and fast. Her tits were
quivering, and after a couple of minutes she withdrew her lips from her
teeth and snarled at him.
“Oh, this is fantastic,” she panted.
“Sarah, you are so lovely. I would love it if I could fuck you forever
and ever.”
Suddenly he felt her cunt begin to spasm again, while Sarah was grunting
an starting to yell.
“I’m coming, Jonas. I’m coming. God, you are a damn good fuck.
Yeeeaaaahhhhh. Oh, it’s great. I’m coming and coming.”
The contractions in her silky cunt together with her crying and swearing
sent Jonas over the hill. With a roar he pressed his cock the last few
millimetres into her cunt and started spewing gush after gush of hot sperm
into her.
For a while they cuddled up with his cock still in Sarah’s silky cunt.
Slowly his cock dwindled and slipped out of her, and with the quiet of the
bedroom, all the things he had experienced this lovely morning, plus the
hard driving all night, he suddenly felt so dead tired that he knew he was
going to fall asleep.
“Sarah, I’m so tired, I just want to go to sleep.”
“Come, you lovely man, rest your head between my breasts. When you have
fallen asleep I shall leave you so I can make arrangements for the party
tonight.”
“Oh, yes. I had forgotten about that.”
He lifted his head and looked into her beautiful brown eyes:
“And you are going to make another kind of report to the ‘girls’?”
Her face turned purple and she closed her eyes for a short moment.
“Yes. I shall have to because I promised it.”
“And what are you going to tell them?”
“Actually I’d rather tell them that you are a lousy lay. That way I
might have a chance to keep you to myself.” She smiled to him and gave him
a long, soft kiss.
“But I’m afraid I’ll have to tell the truth, and then they’ll be
swarming all over you tonight.”
Jonas smiled lovingly to her. He put his head to rest between the pert,
yet resilient breasts, and two minutes later he was far gone into the arms
of Morphemes. When he was far gone Sarah lifted his head down to the
pillow, slipped her right leg out from under him. She pressed a soft kiss
on his forehead and got out of bed. She then proceeded to tidy up in the
bathroom and the terrace, humming quietly to herself, whereupon she dressed
and quietly left ‘Arthur’s house’.
To be continued in part 2.
Comments are welcome to: xxspillerxx@my-deja.com
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
This post has been reformatted by ASSTR's
Smart Text Enhancement Processor (STEP)
system due to linelengths exceeding the
75 character limit.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+