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Subject: {ASSM} Tom's Diary 4-02-02 {Gina Marie Wylie} (teen, mfF, cons)
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++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The following is fiction of an adult nature. If I believed in
setting age limits for things, you'd have to be eighteen to read
this and I'd never have bothered to write it. IMHO, if you can
read and enjoy, then you're old enough to read and enjoy.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
All persons here depicted are figments of my imagination and any
resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly a blunder on my
part.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Official stuff: Story codes: teen, mf, ff, fF, inc, con.
If stories like this offend you, you will offend ME if you read
further and complain. Copyright 2003, by Gina Marie Wylie.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I can be reached at gmwylie98260@hothothotmail.com, at least if
you remove some of the hots. All comments and reasoned
discussion welcome.
Below is my site on ASSTR:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Gina_Marie_Wylie/www/
My stories are also posted on StoriesOnline:
http://Storiesonline.net/
And on Electronic Wilderness Publishing:
http:// www.ewpub.org/
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Tom's Diary
Tuesday, April 2, 2002
There was faint light in the windows and Elizabeth was sitting on
the biggest boner of my life. I watched her rub her own breasts
while I stroked her clit; above all, I moved in and out of her
until she came and then came again. I spent myself into her,
before pulling her down to cradle those beautiful breasts against
my chest, her nipples crushed against mine.
To say that getting out of bed was difficult is to say the sun is
bright at high noon. But we did, spending a fair amount of time
showering, then kissing with no intention of making love; as fine
a form of kissing as there is.
We had breakfast with everyone; it was relaxed and cheerful, even
if shortly we would be leaving for Bill's memorial service. Mary
had told us that no one had to go; she'd prefer it, really if no
one went. I wanted to anyway, if nothing else to just be there
with my friends during something that wasn't going to be easy for
them.
I'd never been to a memorial service before. It was, blessedly
brief. No one had much to say, beyond a few trite phrases,
except for Elizabeth. She stood up, walked forward and faced the
dozen or so people gathered.
"My father was a man; human in his failings. He made some bad
mistakes in the last few weeks of his life, but he was my father
and I loved him. He paid for his mistakes with his life; they
weren't the sort of mistakes that should merit such a terrible
punishment. My father was lost, unable to see that in his
family, he had those that could understand and forgive him. I
understand, and I forgive him."
She sat back down, no one else spoke. We were all quiet on the
way back to the hotel. Mary wanted to be alone; Shannon wanted
to find JR and put it all behind her.
Elizabeth? The first few times I'd first met Elizabeth she had
been pretty much expressionless. Only on the day she'd had her
heart attack had there been much expression on her face; she had
shown more since then. After the memorial service her face had
gone back to stone, but she stayed a few feet away from me, even
if all I was doing was reading while she stared into space.
We had a late lunch and things were better, more like they'd
been. We talked about all sorts of things over the food, music
tastes mostly. Elizabeth was sitting with Jenny, looking more
cheerful, and by the end of the meal, was as bright as she'd been
the last few days.
After lunch, Jenny went to visit Katrina, Dad doing the driving
and explaining. A bit after that Mom vanished, telling me that
Uncle Craig had arrived, and that she was going to fetch him from
the airport. JR and Shannon went down to the hotel pool, taking
Elizabeth with them. Mary and I followed them after a few
minutes, sitting on the pool deck under an umbrella talking about
a million things, none of them important.
Around four, Mom was back with Uncle Craig, Dad and Jenny were
back; we all got together in the living room of one of the
suites.
"A lot going on," Dad said. "About an hour ago, I got a call
from Bill Carstairs." Dad walked over, took Jenny's hand.
"There's no good way to tell you, Jennifer. Earlier today your
brother went totally nuts; charged a half dozen of the jail
deputies. They tried to get him under control, but he stuck a
hypodermic needle into a man's throat. I'm sorry, really sorry,
Jennifer. He's dead."
"I'm not sorry," Jenny said, shaking her head. "Not sorry at
all; I wished to God he hadn't hurt someone again. Sam has hurt
enough people. The thought of him never being able to do it
again makes me want to applaud."
"The deputy is in the hospital, he's expected to be released
later this evening. The lawyer says the things Sam has been
charged with are now moot. Most likely, no testimony required
from anyone.
"In addition, the police have traced the woman who killed Bill
Leary to Kansas; she got away before they could catch up with
her. They think she's trying to get to Canada." Dad looked at
Mary. "They told him that there is little chance of any recovery
of the money she stole from you."
Elizabeth spoke, "She killed my dad; I don't care what happens to
her, so long as it's bad. The money isn't that important."
Dad walked over, sat down next to Elizabeth. "I'm not part of
the gang of four." Elizabeth smiled slightly, her eyes tracking
over Mary, Shannon and Jenny. "Elizabeth, I know it hurts, but
you have to know, what's not important to you, might be important
to Mary or Shannon."
Elizabeth looked him in the eye. "Money is a tool, like a
hammer. Except, unlike a hammer, you need that tool to get by
every day. We can get by with what Mom makes. No matter how
much you and Tom want to help, you shouldn't try to take that
away from Mom. Mom has a ways to go yet, to blossom again, but
she will. And then..." Elizabeth smiled wanly. "Then is then.
Things will be different."
"Suppose you're wrong?" Shannon asked. "I thought all this
mystical shit would go away when..."
"When I was no longer a virgin?" Elizabeth completed the thought.
"Shannon, I've lived a long time seeing things; mostly they
didn't make any sense. Now, I have more context. There's a
whole lot more, Shannon. Not mine to tell, I think I've told too
much already. I love my family and the people around me; I can't
stop myself from telling them about happiness ahead."
"Is there unhappiness ahead?" Shannon pressed.
Elizabeth smiled. "Is the sky blue? The grass green? The ocean
wet? Yes, of course. Nothing like we've had, it will be things
we can deal with. If we are steadfast and brave and keep loving
each other, things will turn out better than our dreams.
Shannon, I'll tell you true, if nothing else has come from the
last two weeks, we've found there ain't any of us lacking in
courage or steadfastness. And a lot of love."
"Crappy grammar, little sister."
"No shit," Elizabeth answered, convulsing everyone with
laughter.
There was more talk, and then I was surprised when Uncle Craig
gestured at me. "Tom, you and I need to take a walk."
I shrugged, and the two of us went out of the room, down the
steps. He walked briskly, not saying anything. After a bit, we
were on the golf course that adjoined the hotel; still he didn't
stop. We finally came to a small area with picnic benches, what
is called a ramada in Phoenix. He waved at one of the tables.
When we got there, he sat down opposite me.
"You've been a busy young man," he told me.
"Not entirely of my choosing," I replied.
"No one would choose this; even with the good, it would be like
walking across a bed of coals with too many chances to misstep."
He was silent again, looking past me, out over the green of the
course. "One of these days, Dave or I need to teach you to
golf."
"You could have told me that back at the hotel," I told him, not
sure why we were sitting by the golf course.
He laughed. "For sure. Tom..." He sighed. "Ellen told me about
you and her."
"And she told me about you and her. JR told me about you and
her. Penny told me about you and her. Kim told me about you and
her. I think we talk too much about it."
He waved his hand. "No mas, Tom! No mas!" He laughed. "I
didn't mean to sound disapproving.
"Many years ago, a total scumbag took advantage of Ellen. If she
had left it to me, I'd have killed him. But Ellen isn't like
that; she made it clear I wasn't to get involved with him. I
beat him up anyway.
"Mom and Dad found out about Ellen's pregnancy; one of the guys
who helped with money told his parents what it was for; in spite
of having promised not to, they told on Ellen. Dad really got on
Ellen's case. I was sixteen, Tom. You know about sixteen year
olds; no one listens to you. Well, maybe not you, but for me
that's the way it was."
"I know what you mean," I told him. It had been true a month
ago, for me too.
"I did what I could; Ellen is Ellen, Tom. I make no apologies
for loving her."
"And none are needed. I love her, too."
He nodded. "Still, Dad's will is crystal clear: nothing to
Ellen. Do you understand why I've kept it that way?"
"No, sir."
"No, Craig," he corrected. "You Tom; you, Joanna and me are who
Dad intends to leave his money to. His intention is that on your
twenty-first birthday, or the day I'm convinced you are an adult,
whichever comes first, you could control your share. Ditto
Joanna. You, Joanna and I will each receive a third of Dad's
estate."
I nodded; none of this was new.
"Do you understand what Dad's situation is now?" Craig asked.
"Mom told me he has Alzheimer's. That was a couple of years ago,
and that he had to go into a nursing home after Grandmother died
two years ago."
Craig nodded. "My parents, Tom, are, were, people of their time.
Dad was thirty when I was born, thirty-three when Ellen was born.
He's in his 70's now. His first years were rather heavily
colored by the Great Depression, then the Second World War. So
were Mom's, even though she's five years younger than Dad.
"They were firm believers in self-sufficiency, Tom. Not asking
for help unless they needed it. Mom didn't think Dad's problems
required our help; for two years she fooled Ellen and me. Then
she had her stroke and it was pretty much too late. Alzheimer's
isn't a pretty disease Tom; not if you are a strong, self-reliant
person, like Dad. You have lucid moments; you have periods of
dementia, with the dementia episodes growing in length. You know
your brain is turning into mush, Tom."
I could only grimace. The thought was disquieting.
"So, neither of them said anything. Then one day, Mom was gone
and there he was." Craig looked at me. "Two years ago, Dad was
lucid about ten percent of the time. Now, it's rare that he has
a good period, and then it's usually short. So, he's in a full
care facility and I go visit him when I can. I don't know what
I'll do now that I'm going to move here. Probably move him.
Odds are, he'll never know, though."
He reached out his hand, touched mine. "Ellen forgave him a long
time ago, for what he did. He never forgave her, Tom. One of
the last clear things he told me was that he didn't want to see
Ellen."
We sat quietly, looking over the light green grass of the
fairways, the emerald green of the greens.
"You follow current events?" he asked, finally.
"Oh, yes," I replied mildly. I had no idea what any of this was
about, not any more.
"After Mom died, Tom, I took over managing everything. I went to
court, and was appointed conservator of Dad's estate. The
medical facts are that, like Reagan, he could live for another
ten or fifteen years. Except for the Alzheimer's, Dad is in
fairly good health.
"You heard about the dot com bubble, Tom?"
"Yes, sir."
"It's Craig, Tom. Don't be dense.
"I put a lot of the funds into some of those stocks; back in the
nineties, more after Mom died. You understand that?"
"Yes, sir. I'm not dense."
"It's Craig, Tom. Your dad helped a little; your mom helped a
lot. Tom, Ellen is the brains of the family. You understand
that the bubble popped?"
"Yes, I know the bubble popped," I told him, wondering how badly
we'd been hurt. I was tolerably sure that unless I'd been lied
to, the twice a year payments into my trust funds had been made.
"Do you know what selling short is?"
"I know it's a way to make money when the market is going south;
I don't pretend to understand."
"I thought that there would be more problems with Y2K than there
were; I kept the investments where they were, even though I was
getting very nervous. But Ellen told me not to worry.
"New Year's Day, 2000. You remember that?"
"Yes, Craig."
"A non-event, Tom. Nothing crashed."
I nodded, not sure what he was going with this.
"So, I looked around. I'd been nervous before, but everything
right afterwards looked okay, the market was more or less flat.
A lot of companies, I thought, had put off expansion projects to
deal with Y2K, that in a few months the market would start
surging ahead again. You know what Ellen told me?"
I shook my head; not much was making sense.
"She told me that only the fools had postponed much. Did I want
to bet on the fools? She went on to say the market was flat
because it was nearly out of steam. That once the steam was
gone, it was going to collapse," he laughed. "Put like that, I
bailed; moved the money to stuff I thought would be safe." His
eyes met mine. "Not much happened. I contemplated that maybe I
should jump back in; the market was stable, nothing seemed to be
looming.
"Except Ellen told me that she could feel the first howls of the
wind of change. Showed me a few things that I thought looked bad
for a couple of the big companies; Enron," he laughed bitterly.
"Not even a dot com stock, I told her."
"I make no bones about it, Tom. I love my sister, love her in
ways no one else understands; in ways I've never loved another.
So, in spite of my personal belief that things were fine, I
stayed out.
"I could go on and on," he said, now speaking more quickly. "It
would be a waste of time. Things started to twitch; I could see
that some stocks were set to take a hit. We were in good shape,
worth it, I thought, to take a risk. When had Ellen been wrong?
I talked to Dave, we decided to make a pretty hefty bet Ellen was
right."
"We sold the bull market short. Mainly the high flyers; Enron,
World Com, AOL/Time Warner and some others.
"You would not believe, Tom, how much money we made in 2000; then
it was clear where things were going. We sold short in 2001;
didn't do too well until September the Eleventh. I take no
pleasure from making a profit from that day, Tom, but the fact of
the matter is, we made out like bandits."
"So, instead of having wads and wads of money, we have buckets
and buckets?" I asked.
Uncle Craig laughed. "Oh no; oceans, Tom. Oceans. Of course,
we are now subject to half a dozen SEC investigations about
selling everything short when we did. Except none of us are
insiders; they haven't a leg to stand on. Soon, the last of
those investigations will be over and finished; we're already
looking forward."
"And this has what to do with me?"
"Dad invested me with the right to decide when you could take
control of your share; I've decided. Thursday, you and I will go
over to the lawyers; you'll sign papers. I'll sign papers. Then
we go to a local bank and sign more papers.
"Welcome to the world of the super rich, Tom."
"I'm not ready," I told him. In my mind I was wondering if
Alzheimer's was hereditary.
"Probably," he said, improbably agreeing with me.
"But, Tom, there will be changes. Ellen says she wants to start
home schooling you and Joanna. That she thinks you should spend
half your time at home; under her control."
I nodded, still not sure what he was getting at.
"Sharon and I are relocating here. Starting next week Tom, your
home schooling will be partly under my control. You will learn a
lot about managing money."
"And if that isn't what I want to do with my life?"
He nodded. "Your choice, Tom. Once the papers are signed, it's
up to you. You can do it yourself, hire me or your father to do
it; failing that, hire someone else. Your choice.
"You can, Tom, go to any bank, any brokerage house, any financial
management firm in the country and get their instant attention.
You will have executives fawning over you; literally, they will
get you whatever you want."
I contemplated that, met his eyes. "If I did that, it'd be
pretty easy, wouldn't it? No fuss, no muss."
"Exactly," he told me. "They'll be happy to do it. Odds are,
they'd be honest. You'd only need the most modest oversight to
keep them so. But it wouldn't be their money, Tom. Trust me; I
had dozens, hundreds of people tell me I was making a big
mistake, a seriously big mistake selling the market short. Every
step along the way in the last two years; and you know what? The
funds they manage are about 70% of what they were before 2000;
our funds are at 290%. About six times as good as what they did,
Tom. It wasn't an accident. They were cautious and I wasn't."
"One thing I've learned about our family and life in general,
Craig; how few accidents there are."
"Your mom getting pregnant."
"Ignorance isn't entirely the same as an accident."
"An accident, Tom," he corrected me, "is when the luck goes
against you. Ellen made love to the asshole twice in three
months; she missed the bullet half the time. An accident, Tom."
"You and Shirley are going to move here?"
"I'm here to stay; Shirley will be coming back with Kim and
Penny. Keisha is thinking about moving, too. I told her that I
can pretty well guarantee she and the others will find jobs as
good or better than they've got now. I tell you true, Tom; it's
been long overdue. California has become business unfriendly and
then some. Arizona's not great, but infinitely better than
California. We won't even talk about the morons in the Pacific
Northwest."
"Dad said there was a lot of money," I said quietly.
"David is a fine fellow; I'd trust him with my life. Trusted him
with my sister. Tom, David controls, right now, about 7% of what
I do."
I blinked; Dad had given me a number. That was a sixteenth?
"Yes," Craig said softly. "The family is worth about two
billion."
"That should show up in the list of the richest people in the
country."
"It would, if I let it," he said with a laugh. "But hey, it's
split up, there's an umbrella corporation that runs things.
There are a couple, six, companies that deal with the different
aspects. There are, Tom, dozens of companies like us, hiding
under the radar; not wanting the publicity. It's really not all
that much, when you consider how many people are involved. You,
JR, your mom and dad, Shirley and I. Your dad and I have
daughters by Keisha and her partner, they are all taken care of.
Penny is mine, so she and Kim are taken care of. Quite a crew,
Tom."
I stared off into the distance. "I still don't understand why
you're doing this."
"Because, Tom, you need a rock to stand on, out there in the deep
water. You've been swept up in events like few ever experience,
and acquitted yourself about as well as a person can. It's kinda
like fighting a war, Tom. One smart thing you can do is put your
money on the guys who are winning all the time. That's you,
Tom.
"If you take small steps at first, I'm betting you'll win here
too. By the time you're ready to take big steps..." He grinned.
"I'm not greedy, I'm not Midas or Scrooge; none of that. To me
dollars on a balance sheet are like points in a big game. Maybe
the biggest game of all. For one thing, those numbers tell me
that my family is safe, barring catastrophe, from the ups and
downs of life.
"I'm betting, Tom, based on my personal judgment, that you are
going to be better at this than me. Your mom is one of the best
financial advisors around; she loves modeling the economy. With
all of us together," he grinned, "we'll be unstoppable, Tom."
He paused, his eyes on me again. "So, we are back to where we
were: why did I keep to the terms of Dad's will, even though he
is no longer in a position to know or care?"
"You promised," I said, realizing in an instant before I spoke,
that was really the core of it all.
"I promised. Besides, I knew that giving advice to David, plus a
little help with financing, that he would take care of Ellen.
And legally, in Arizona, half of anything of his is Ellen's. Not
so where we originally came from, but true here. I could do as I
promised and take care of her at the same time. It violated the
spirit of what Dad wanted, but that's tough; I forgave Ellen, he
should have too.
"So, next Monday we talk to your school."
"I don't want to quit school," I told him. "I have a lot of
friends. A few responsibilities; I'm the chauffeur." I shook my
head. "Next fall. Maybe."
"Tell you what; chauffeur in the morning, then come to the office
I'll be setting up here. Then go back to school at lunchtime,
spend the afternoon there. That'll give me three hours or so a
day; that will suffice until the summer. Then, rather more time
in the office."
"And if I don't want to do it?"
"Then you don't like it," he said. "At that point, we'll talk
things over, decide what to do. I'm running things now, that can
continue forever. I draw a comfortable, but not exorbitant
salary. Low six figures; you aren't likely to find a cheaper
money manager," he grinned.
I stood thinking about it, and then I looked him in the eye.
"Okay, but not before the fall."
"You're making a mistake," he said quietly.
"Then I make a mistake. Craig, I don't think I am. I don't want
to fight about it, either."
"Tom, pushing in business is as wrong as pushing in bed. Don't
ever do it. If you tell me to stop, I'm going to stop. You know
my opinion, you know where to find me if you change your mind. I
can deal with that."
We went back and Uncle Craig called home. "Kim and Penny are
both having a good time," he announced. "They should all be here
on Sunday afternoon, with Shirley in tow."
Dad nodded. "We can probably all safely go back home by then."
"Things are going back to normal pretty fast," Mom chimed in.
"I expect."
There was a knock on the door, and when Mom opened it, it was
Eleanor Johannsen, from Children Services. "May I have a moment
of your time?" I was surprised that it was me she was asking.
I grinned inwardly. "Mind taking a walk?" I asked, and she
nodded.
We went outside. "I've talked to Jennifer several times over the
last few weeks," she told me. I waved to a table next to the
pool; there wasn't anyone in the water right then, and no one at
any of the other tables.
We sat down, and I tried to keep my eyes on hers, not on her
breasts.
"Jennifer was pretty out of it at first," Eleanor went on.
"Obviously terrified; I feared for her."
I nodded. "Jenny wasn't sure if she was going to run away or
kill her brother. Neither was an appetizing choice; she says she
didn't contemplate suicide but I'm not a 100% sure I believe
her."
Her eyes bored into mine. "Yet, today I would have trouble
believing that she came from such a background," she said.
"Jennifer has changed. Almost day by day I could see it.
Gaining confidence, losing her fear. Looking forward instead of
back."
She stopped talking, still looking at me.
"I did what I could to help Jenny," I told her.
"And I don't ever want to know what all you did," she said with a
small smile. "Not that it would mean anything in this case, but
because it's private."
"It is," I agreed.
"And I'm sure I know who was responsible for most of the
changes."
"I told her I'd never let Sam or anyone else bother her again.
Period. All I did was keep that promise."
"Which is why I'm surprised Sam survived Sunday," she said.
I shook my head. "I'm not Sam, Roger or Keith. Not hardly. I
knew perfectly well that I could hurt Sam as badly as I wanted to
Sunday. I thought about it; trust me, I thought about it.
Instead, I just made sure there was no way he was going to get
back up and go after Jenny again."
She nodded. "I am going to have one more talk with Jennifer,
probably at the end of the week. The fact is, Tom, people like
me have more work than we can handle."
"A sad commentary on what we've become." I felt it in my bones,
all through me. More than sad.
"Yes, but I'm sure Jennifer is in good hands. So, don't expect
quite as many visits as you've been told to expect. You'll
probably only see me a couple of times in the next year."
My eyes dropped to her breasts; I saw her nipples were erect.
She laughed. "And that's another reason why you won't see me
very often," her voice was suddenly soft. "I don't understand
why it is, but every time you look at my breasts," she laughed
again, "I get very damp panties. It's interfering with my
vows."
"Vows?" I asked, not sure what she meant.
"I'm a Carmelite nun, Tom."
I was really confused, looking at her again. I said the first
stupid thing that came into my head. "You don't look like a
nun."
"I'm going to take that to mean because I don't wear a habit."
She was laughing, at me I was sure.
I nodded. That too, but she didn't look like my idea of a nun
for other reasons.
"We don't have to any more; it makes life so much easier.
Another sad commentary on the world today, Tom, a lot of people
are prejudiced against religious people and organizations.
Particularly mine," she smiled as she spoke. "My religion and my
organization."
She grinned. "I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate
your changing the subject to something less..." Her voice
trailed away.
"I'm not prejudiced," I told her.
"You aren't religious, are you?" she asked.
"No, but that doesn't mean I don't believe in God; I surely do."
"Well, that's something."
I thought for a second, decided that it was either start a
religious discussion or check to see if her nipples were still
erect. "I don't believe you need religion to be able to live a
moral life. I know I pretty much echo my parent's feelings on
the subject; they don't much like any of the organized religions.
Their disagreements range from philosophical to practical," I
told her. "I haven't seen anything to change my mind."
"One of the things I'm required to do," she said quietly, "is
leave my religion out of the job."
It was easier this time to meet her eyes. "Me?" I asked. "If it
was me in your shoes, I'd wear my habit. I'd tell them that
religion was an integral part of my life -- if it really was.
Too much of what's happened, Eleanor, has happened because people
have taken the easy way out. Refusing to stand up and be
counted, refusing to make hard decisions. Sam's parents. Keith
Driscoll's entire family. They knew, pretty much what was going
on. If they'd intervened, spoken out..." I shook my head.
"There'd be people alive and well today who aren't."
"If I did that, I'd be fired," she said softly. "What good would
I be to the kids who need help then?" She made a nervous,
obviously frustrated gesture.
"I don't believe Children's Services is the only place you can
help kids, Ms. Johannsen." I paused. I wished Uncle Craig was
here; I needed to ask him a question. "I have a favor to ask."
She met my eyes.
"A favor?"
"Well, it's something to think about. Think about how you'd want
to set up a private charity that would help troubled kids. What
you'd like to see, how you'd like to see it run, staffed," I
swallowed. "Funded."
She was silent for a moment, and then met my eyes again. "And
what use would that be?"
Time, I thought, to get personal. "Eleanor, I doubt very much if
you've spent enough time checking on my parents' financial
standing. I can tell."
"Tell what?"
"You asked what use it would be. If you'd checked, you'd never
have asked."
"I verified what your parents filled out in the financial
disclosure forms about their incomes and employment."
"Dad and Mom's brother have a little thing going on the side," I
said with a grin. "You'd be surprised at how big a thing.
Imagine finding something like the Great Pyramid at Giza, but
with only just a few inches of the top sticking out of the sand.
Yep, you'd have seen it -- but you'd be a quite few inches short
of a mile from understanding what you'd seen.
"Take some time, think about it."
She was silent, then looked at me. "It's the substance of
dreams, Tom."
"So are damp panties," I said with a straight face. "But, your
vows don't preclude all dreaming, Eleanor."
She stared at me, and then shook her head. "You are something
else, Tom." She stood up. "I'll think about it, get back to
you. If I stay much longer, dreams could get too real."
"I have every intention of making dreams come true, for Jenny,
for you, for as many others as I can help," I told her, standing
too.
She smiled wanly, turned and left. I smiled to myself; her
nipples were even more erect than they had been.
I froze, suddenly aware that once again I was close to someplace
I didn't want to go.
Tom, that woman has made a lifestyle choice; one that was hers to
make. I shook my head. No she's made a life choice; I've heard
that they call nuns 'the brides of Christ.' Her vows are just as
real, just as important as any promises I've made. What would I
think about someone trying to get me to break one of my promises?
Like those I'd made to Jenny, Elizabeth, Mary? Mom, Dad, JR?
All the others? That person would be despicable. What was I
thinking about? Erect nipples and damp panties. I took a deep
breath. Learn, Tom, not to run after every beautiful person in
the world. Sometimes, yes. Carefully, above all.
I walked back to the hotel room; several people were missing,
including Mary and Elizabeth, Shannon and JR. Mom and Dad were
talking to Uncle Craig. "Craig, could we take another walk?" I
asked.
He laughed, and started to stand up. "I was kidding," I said,
and everyone laughed.
"Do Mom and Dad know what you told me just now?" I inquired.
"Yes!" Mom and Dad both chorused.
"Earlier, I'd told Dad I wanted to buy Mary's house; it was my
thought we could give them a very good price, then rent it back
to them at something below market." Craig started to speak, but
I held up my hand.
"That was wrong," I said, "for a couple of reasons. Mary doesn't
want charity and they don't want to live there any more. We
shouldn't buy it at a premium or rent it below market.
"So, we have people who acquire property, do we not?"
"Yes," Craig replied. "But we don't normally buy houses;
apartments and strip malls, mostly. We have some small
percentages of larger mall complexes. As diversified as we can
get, in property as well as equities," he grimaced. "I think
property prices are about to go bust here in a year or two. I
don't want to put much in there right now."
"Well, tell someone to arrange the purchase of Mary's house.
Don't tell them anything beyond that we are looking to go into
single home properties now. And I think it wouldn't hurt if we
did that, really."
"Tom," Mom said, "I think you're wrong."
"A few won't hurt," I told them. "And, I think there are other
things in life than racking up points in the big game." I met my
uncle's eyes. He didn't look away.
"Then, I want to know what we do for charity."
"Charity?" Craig frowned. "We're a business, Tom. We make
money," he paused, saw my expression. "Say we have a turnover,
that's a gross income, of a million dollars. Say the profit is a
hundred thousand, of which Uncle takes a fifth. If we donated a
tenth of our profit, we'd have ninety thousand dollars profit,
instead of a hundred. Yes, we'd get a tax credit. If we gave
away the ten thousand, we'd have 72,000 left after taxes, instead
of 80,000. What happens, Tom, is essentially, the government
kicks in a dollar for every four we give. But in the end we have
less money than if we'd given nothing at all."
"And what are you planning to do with all of those points?" I
asked, my voice sarcastic. "I've played Nintendo, Craig. I've
racked up a few points in my time. Then I turned the machine off
and got on with my life."
"I don't entirely understand what you are getting at," he was
speaking carefully. I realized that he was getting angry.
"Craig," Dad spoke up, "I think Tom is hinting that maybe we
should try to do a little good with some of that money."
"Jobs are good," Craig said, his voice tightly controlled.
"Jobs are very good," Mom interjected. "But there are people for
whom jobs aren't the answer, Craig. Jennifer comes to mind."
"And Mary?" Uncle Craig asked. "What about her? She needed a
job."
"What about her?" Dad said. "Craig, you drive a Ford Explorer.
Shirley has a Lexus. Do you think she wants an Explorer?"
"No, she won't even try to drive mine. Too big." You could see
he was off balance, now. I remembered the tag teams I'd seen in
the last few weeks. It was kind of fun to be on the team.
"You need more tools than a hammer to build a house," I told him.
"You can't saw a board with a hammer. You can't level a
foundation with a hammer. You don't want to do electrical
installation with a hammer. Or the plumbing."
"I think you're stretching the metaphor," Craig replied, though
he did seem less angry than a moment before. "You're saying we
should give money to charity."
"Worked for Bill Gates," Dad laughed. "Got his name in the paper
in a big way."
"That's what I've been trying to avoid," Craig said dryly. "Not
to mention I've been focused on growing the total. All I've
heard from Tom are ways to spend it."
"Craig," Dad's voice was confident and firm. "You told me when
we first invested in my company, why I was content to just be
another worker bee: I like doing things, not thinking about them.
Me? I thought it was because I'm fond of details; while you
were intent on the big picture. That and I love being an
engineer, getting my hands dirty.
"Now, Craig, I've a bit of news. I'm now the Vice President of
Engineering Operations. It's just been a few days, but I can
already tell I like this a whole lot more than I ever did looking
at my little details. It's not as much fun as engineering, but I
think it's time I tasted something besides chocolate chip ice
cream.
"I was wrong, Craig, so were you. Yes, I like doing things, but
I find I have a taste for doing things right that seems to scale
up very well. And there are just as many details in the big
picture as when you are looking at the little one."
Craig shrugged. "I'm sure you're getting to the point."
"I'm saying Tom's right, Craig. At a certain point, piling up
more points becomes an objective in and of itself and you stop
looking at the rest of the picture."
Craig turned to Mom. "Ellen?"
"Craig, I'm with the three men I love more than any others. Tom
isn't telling us that he wants to give away the farm. He's
saying that we need to diversify even more than we have. I've
recommended it a time or two, as you'll recall. Dave," Mom
smiled at Dad, "isn't stupid either, Craig. Nor am I. You need
to spend some time thinking, Craig."
"And you think it's time to invest in single family homes?" It
wasn't quite a sneer. "Give away some of the family money?"
"I'm thinking that I haven't given it a lot of thought. Like
you, I think home prices are going to start coming down
uniformly, and in some oversold markets, drastically. So, in
theory we'd lose money. I need to think about it though; home
prices are integral to the economy, Craig. If they fell very
much, it could hurt things quite a bit."
"I live in LA," Craig said, his voice tight, but not as tight as
he'd been a bit before. "In the late 80's, early 90's home
prices crashed. It did more than hurt. Fortunately, the
market's pretty much recovered."
He paused, looked at Mom, at Dad, then me. "I suppose I need to
think things through, don't I? Because I just made your case."
"Craig," that was Dad, "in the last few weeks things have changed
for me, for Ellen, for Tom, for JR. For all of us. You know my
feelings about the intergenerational relationships."
Craig nodded, started to speak, but Dad cut him off.
"Yes, I know. Now I'm a hypocrite, right?" Craig shrugged and
Dad laughed. "No, I'm not a hypocrite, because back then I
wasn't sure it was right and was quite certain it wasn't worth
the risk. Today, I've had a chance to understand it a little
better. By all the lights of our society's mores and laws, I am
despicable scum who has made love to not only my daughter, but to
others as young, or nearly as young.
"Ellen, the same thing. Our son and daughter, others; all way
too young, according to society.
"Society says it's abuse when such things happen. And I say that
it depends on whether or not there is abuse. People abuse
others, of course. Parents abuse children, sexually and
physically. But other parents love their children. People do
violence to others, people they don't know, people they do know.
People show kindness to people they don't know as well as to
those they know.
"It's useless, in my humble opinion, to make a single rule that
is supposed to apply to everyone. Jennifer's brother abused her;
in their own way, her parents did too.
"But if I wanted to, if Jennifer or Joanna or Penny wanted to, we
would spend the night together and it would be because we wanted
it. Not abuse."
"It's what we've said for years, particularly Shirley," Craig
interjected.
"That's right. But not all of us are gifted with full and
complete understanding all the time, Craig. For some of us, it
takes us a while to get there. Well, I'm there now," Dad waved
at me.
"Tom has come along even faster than any of us, Craig. And
realized something that was a hard slog for some of us.
Outsiders, Craig, are people too. We've taken a few tentative
steps that way before, but now there's Jennifer, Mary, Shannon
and Elizabeth. Now Jennifer has a friend, too. A friend whose
parents are having to come to grips with a gay daughter. It
takes some of us longer to get there, Craig, than others."
"Some never get there," Uncle Craig said.
"Oh my, yes!" Dad agreed. "Jennifer's parents, and it killed
them. Bill Leary, killed him too. Usually the consequences of
ignorance aren't so harsh, but sometimes they are.
"Craig, Ellen has a new friend herself," Dad told him.
The last seemed to freeze Craig. He looked at Mom.
"Several new friends," Mom told her brother, "including someone
new, my age. Not Mary."
"At a certain point, it will get out," Craig said softly.
"Perhaps," Dad said.
"Perhaps not," Mom said firmly. "I think this is something the
three of us, along with Kim, Shirley and Keisha need to talk
about."
"Mary too," I told them, speaking for the first time in a while.
"Yes," Mom nodded.
"And the rest of us," I finished my thought.
"About what we decide," Mom agreed. "It does concern you, I
understand Tom. But for the time being, let us talk about it."
I made a private vow to talk to people about it; I didn't want to
be out of the loop. And if JR, Penny, Jenny, Shannon and
Elizabeth knew what they were going to be talking about it,
they'd be interested too. Probably.
We broke up then, and we all ended up in a nice restaurant eating
dinner. A logistical nightmare, I thought. Five of us, Mary and
her daughters, Craig. Nine for dinner. Throw in Kim and Penny,
Shirley and the rest of the LA cast of thousands: nine more.
Eighteen. Suppose we had some friends over? Katrina, Tony and
Sue Ellen. Tony's cousin. Mindy and Fleur, Anna and her sister.
Shucks, everyone I was with Saturday. Thirty or so for dinner.
How do you spell unworkable?
We were heading back to the hotel, Elizabeth was sitting on my
lap, and Jenny was in Mary's, JR in Shannon's. Mom in Craig's,
and Dad driving; it was just a little crowded in the car. We got
back to the hotel, started to fission almost at once. Mom and
Craig; Dad surprised me, sitting between JR and Shannon, kissing
mostly JR, but Shannon was snuggled up against him.
Elizabeth, Jenny, Mary and I ended up in Mary's room. Jenny
started kissing Elizabeth; Mary and I started making out. It
didn't take long before we were all undressed, lying next to each
other on the bed, kissing and stroking our partners. Then it was
Jenny and I, Elizabeth and Mary. Somehow we'd kept it to
passionate make out, but every now and again I'd drop my eyes to
Elizabeth's breasts or Mary's. I had a glorious view of Jenny's
pert bottom, and at one point when I was kissing Mary, I ran my
hand over Jenny's rounded and firm buttocks.
Jenny giggled when I did that, then startled me by getting up,
moving to sit down next to me. "I'm going to do something
different tonight," Jenny told me as I turned to her.
Jenny smiled at me, leaned over and kissed me on the forehead.
"For some time, I've gotten to sleep with you. Or Ellen or
Joanna; all sorts of people. Before that, I'd never slept with
anyone. Tonight, I want to be alone," she chuckled. "I don't
think I will feel like this very often, but tonight..." She
kissed me lightly, then Mary, then Elizabeth.
"I love you all. Now, I'm going to sleep." She got up and
walked out, taking her clothes with her.
There was a bit of squirming on the bed, and I found myself
between Elizabeth and Mary.
"I want to talk," Elizabeth said, her head pillowed on my chest.
"Sure." I put my arm around her shoulder, my other around
Mary's.
"Mom and I have talked," Elizabeth went on after we were all
comfortably settled. "I know she told you that you and she
getting married was pretty impossible."
I nodded. It was, unless I was a lot older, certain to get Mary
into trouble.
"There are rules, Tom, that are arbitrary, but not obeying them
would be pretty stupid. Like driving on the right side of the
street, stopping at red lights and stop signs."
I nodded, curious where she was going, considering where she was
coming from, and where she was. Elizabeth is always a delight,
taking you places you never imagined.
"Other rules seem arbitrary, like whether or not you can sleep
with your sister, your parents. Like only a man and woman can
get married, and they have to be a certain age. Certainly our
own history has varied that age, rather widely. Truth is, Tom,
if you look at all the cultures on the planet, you quickly learn
that one man, and one woman isn't the only way, and that age has
always been flexible.
"That said, while the marriage rules really are arbitrary, there
are good reasons why fathers and daughters, mothers and sons,
brothers and sisters..." She glanced at her mom, grinned,
"Mothers and daughters shouldn't marry or have children together,
even if they could. Then there are a great many people who use
their relationships with others to exploit them; so again, those
rules aren't as arbitrary as they seem.
"But the fact remains that no matter what the downside to such
relationships may be, they are possible to have without the
negative consequences. People all too often take the easy way
out when they have to make decisions; in fact, most people put
them off or simply turn their heads so they don't have to deal
with it, which is why there aren't any societies where you can do
as you please."
She chuckled again. "That's called anarchy, and has a very bad
name."
"No rules at all?" I asked. "I don't think that would be
right."
"It depends on who you ask, Tom, what's right. Go out and ask a
hundred people on the street, show them a picture of the three of
us, naked in bed, making love. Trust me Tom, all of them will
think you're breaking the rules. They might also decide Mom's
breaking the rules; virtually all of them would see me as a
victim. And that's just not the truth. I seduced Mom; she
didn't start things, I did. And with you, you wanted to, but
until I said yes, nothing happened. There is no victim here,
with me furthest of all from being the victim. Yet society would
say that it's me."
Mary spoke for the first time. "Is there a point to all of this
philosophy, Elizabeth? I have to admit right now I'd rather
practice new ways of doing things than talk about them."
We all laughed, and Elizabeth nodded. "One day, you'll see. The
three of us will be happily married. I will have babies and we
will all care for them. Other babies will be around too!
Ellen..." I saw Elizabeth's eyes glow. "I want to grow up to be
just like her!"
Mary reached over and ran her hand down my stomach. My erection
had long since faded, but rejuvenated quickly given the least
encouragement; Mary's hand was a long ways from 'least
encouragement.'
How I thought, as the world started to fade to blissful
enjoyment, am I going to explain to Elizabeth what I'd explained
to Shannon not so long ago? That a person who's not ready to
decide what he wants to do in college, much less what he wants to
do with his life; how could he, me, commit to marriage?
Elizabeth's lips found mine; her hand trailed around my side,
mildly tickling, mildly sensual at the same time. Odd, I
thought. Mary can be doing lascivious things with her hand to my
erection, but I can feel a gentle tickle at the same time and
enjoy it, if not in the same measure, at least in proportional
measure.
I reached out and stroked Elizabeth's face with my fingertips;
our kiss grew more torrid, her fingers were rubbing one of my
nipples that promptly turned taut as a drum. Elizabeth lifted
her lips from mine, leaned across and found Mary's to kiss; her
fingertip stayed on my nipple, Mary's hand remained on my
erection.
"I'd like three favors, Tom," Elizabeth said after a second. I
opened my eyes and looked at her, at Mary.
"Pretty much anything you want, my love," I told her. Elizabeth
smiled at the last word.
"I want to watch you make love to my mom. Then I want her to
watch you make love to me. Then I want you to watch me make love
to her."
I shrugged. "I don't have a problem with audience
participation."
"If this never happens again, that's okay. But this once. I
want Mom to see the look on my face, and on yours, when we're
together. I want to watch her and you as you are together. Then
I want you to see us together. Afterwards," she smiled, "none of
us will have doubts again." She blew Mary a kiss, then me. "I
know you have doubts; don't tell me you don't, both of you."
"I'd never say that," Mary said dryly.
"Oh yeah!" I agreed.
"Then please, this once."
I nodded, Mary was a little more reluctant, but she too nodded.
Elizabeth actually got out of bed and moved a few feet away; I
mentally chuckled. This was called getting a better view, a much
better view!
I kissed Mary, then using my eyes and fingers, I checked her out.
Her lovely face, old, yet so young; small breasts with such
large nipples. A flat stomach that any girl of any age would die
for, all covered with golden down. I idly wondered why it wasn't
red, it was but a passing thought, ephemeral and gone in an
instant. Delightfully red pussy hair, thin and elegant; no wild
riot like some I'd seen, but enough to hide the inner pink folds
of her sex. Then down her legs, smooth and hairless; that
brought a smile to my face. Would it be sexy to watch a woman
shave her legs? Her pussy? I'd heard that some women thought
watching a man shave was sexy.
Eventually, I was stroking and caressing her feet, her toes. I
put a dainty kiss on one of her ankles, and then moved back up
her body, this time being overtly sexual.
Mary had been quiet throughout, now when I was kissing her lips,
still without a word, she pressed me back and proceeded to treat
me to my own medicine. On the return trip though, she stopped
and gazed long and hard at my erection.
"The only problem I think I have any more with Elizabeth's view
of the future is that I can't have babies of my own."
Elizabeth giggled. "You won't say that after you see how many
babies there will be."
Mary lifted her head and met my eyes. "When I was growing up, I
was raised Catholic; I long ago left the church. But one thing I
remember was overhearing an admonition a Priest was giving a
young man, someone I never saw. Something I overheard at
confession," she grinned. "Catholics believe sex is about
procreation, and the boy had confessed to masturbating. The
Priest assigned him a penance for what he called, 'wasting
seed.'" She leaned close, used her tongue to trace a line up my
erection. "I'm here to waste some more."
With that, she took me in her mouth. I saw her cheeks dimple as
she applied suction; her fingers cupped my balls. Even with two
and a half weeks practice, the pleasure she brought to me was
wonderful, I was able to hold back only a few minutes before I
came, showering the inside of her mouth with my sperm.
She moved so that she was sitting across my hips. I pressed
inside of her. Mary was filled with slippery moisture that
lubricated access into her vagina; in one long smooth stroke, I
pressed as deep inside her as I could, feeling the tip of my cock
touching her cervix. My hands went to her breasts, stroking her
nipples until they were erect, and Mary had a glazed, happy
expression on her face as we slowly moved together.
I turned my head, and saw Elizabeth standing a few feet away, the
expression on her face mirroring Mary's, both of her hands
pressing down between her legs.
Mary and I rose quickly to a warm blaze of desire and passion; I
heard a sound and opened my eyes. Mary's expression was
something I'll never fully be able to put into words. Her tongue
was partly out of her mouth as she fully concentrated on her
pleasure; she looked happy, content, loved. Like what we were
doing was the most pleasurable experience of her life.
I shot, my sperm meeting her warm embrace of my erection. Mary's
smile broadened, her entire being seemed to glow with pleasure.
I was afraid she hadn't come, but I realized the little tremors I
felt in her body were the legacy of an orgasm that had rocked her
to her core.
Mary took some deep breaths; I could see tears in her eyes. "I
am complete," Mary whispered. "Elizabeth is right, I can't
imagine living without you, Tom. In bed, together with you, as
much as I can possibly manage." She shook her head. "It's so
beautiful. And when we aren't in bed, just talking together..."
She shook her head again. "Your words Tom, one day I'll write
them all down." She giggled, another nice feeling, when I was
buried inside her. "I'll make you a prophet of love."
Elizabeth came up and put her hand on Mary's shoulder, leaned
close and kissed. It was quite a passionate kiss, albeit just a
minute or so.
Mary smiled at her. "I can't believe I have sexual thoughts
about my daughter, about you Elizabeth," Mary sighed. "Odder
still, I don't feel any such attraction to Shannon; I love her
but I don't want to make love to her."
"Shannon has place for just one at a time in her heart,"
Elizabeth said quietly. "She isn't like the rest of us who can
hold more than one person that close. She isn't defective or
less for that, just different. Tom nurtured a particularly
difficult flower; now Joanna has made it bloom. There is no love
that you, I and Tom will share that they won't."
Mary lifted off my erection and they kissed again, even more
briefly than before. Mary brushed one of Elizabeth's breasts.
"I do want you."
Elizabeth absolutely glowed. "And I am yours, now and always."
Elizabeth climbed on the bed, significantly north of where Mary
had been, and I started kissing the insides of her thighs, then
using my tongue to draw little wet lines, all pointing towards
the same place.
My tongue reached that place, pausing to get to know her clit
better, then much better. Elizabeth was rubbing her own breasts,
not as hard as most girls seemed to do it, but just as obviously
enjoying what she was doing.
For a long time, I licked and pressed, twice Elizabeth climbed
the mountain, and the second time I nearly spurted myself from
the power of her orgasm. She leaned down, dragging her pussy
across my chest and abdomen, then surprising me, by rolling off
to one side.
"Tom," Elizabeth's voice was soft and gentle; I looked into her
eyes and fell, it seemed, a very long ways.
"I want you to love me that special way," she moved, rolling over
on her stomach.
I blinked, and then blushed in embarrassment as I realized what
Elizabeth meant. Tom, Tom, Tom! I thought. The girl sees the
future, has for a long time! Why are you surprised to find out
she knows your most secret pleasure?
I ran my hands over her ass cheeks, considerably diminished since
she was laying face down on the bed. She lifted her hips up a
bit, and I saw she had two fingers in her crack, pulling her
cheeks apart, showing me the brown dimple.
I looked at Mary, who was blushing from head to toe. "Go," I saw
on her lips. "Go." I leaned close to Elizabeth's backside,
letting my cock brush against Elizabeth. She pushed back and I
pushed ahead; gradually I sank deeper. The others had been a
little tight back there, but Elizabeth was very tight; it took a
while. Then her ass cheeks were nestled against my abdomen and
we began to move together.
I could tell that Elizabeth was aroused; she could sense my
arousal. I realized she had her hand underneath her, working her
clit, working inside of herself; it was too much, entirely too
much and I came and came, spurting as much or more inside her
than I'd ever done.
For some time, the only things I was aware of was our rasping
breathing and the press of her buttocks against my midsection.
This is totally kinky, I thought. This is the position I like
best, that gets my rod the hardest, for the longest. But it's
not for everyone; I'd better never, ever, forget it.
"I must be mushing you flat," I said, leaning down and kissing
the nape of Elizabeth's neck.
"Oh, yes. But Tom, you don't know how wonderful this feels!"
Still, I knew she wanted me to get up, and I did. And like the
others before her, she led me to the bathroom and washed us up,
quickly and efficiently.
She went back into the bedroom, directly to Mary. There was no
hesitation on either of their parts; they met in the middle of
the room, wrapped their arms around each other and kissed
whole-heartedly. Hands were on breasts, bottoms, and between
legs at once; it reminded me a little of watching Janey
masturbate briefly Saturday night.
Several times people had hinted I might like to watch them making
love to someone besides me; seeing Elizabeth and Mary together, I
knew this was another secret pleasure that wouldn't work with
everyone, but one that I liked.
Mary came first, but it just spurred her on, and then Elizabeth
came; the two tumbled into bed, kissing and touching; a whirlwind
of passion, a roller coaster of orgasms given and experienced,
until a final moment when they both froze, their bodies locked in
the moment, frozen and unmoving, but certainly not unfeeling.
Elizabeth looked at me, a Mona-Lisa smile on her lips. She spoke
softly. "Tom, hold Mom."
I turned off the one light, crawled into bed. Mary was already
asleep, for a moment Elizabeth's hand was on my arm, then it fell
away as she too was overcome with exhaustion.
I wrapped my arm around Mary, no longer concerned where my hand
ended up. I cupped one of her small breasts, the one that
Elizabeth wasn't using as a pillow. Then I slept.
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