© Copyright 2011 by silli_artie@hotmail.com
This work may not be reposted or redistributed without the prior express written permission of the author.
A work of fiction, meant for adults. Read something else if you are not an adult, or are offended by stories with sexual content. Then
again, if all you’re looking for is in-out, in-out, in-out, you should probably read something else. I welcome constructive comments. Enjoy.
This is Part 6! You might want to start with Part 1.
Silver Linings
Chaos, passion, argument, laughter -- everything intense. On a hunch Saturday morning I sat down with both of them to check their Gmail accounts to be sure automatic forwarding had not been set. All clean; that was a relief.
Then Julya was freaking out that there were yet more undiscovered secret rooms in the house. I went out and bought a Fluke handheld distance measuring gadget. We measured the house on the outside, then went and measured rooms on the inside, making detailed drawings. No more secret rooms. We brought in a ladder and checked the attic -- plenty of insulation, nothing funny looking, nothing being stored there. I wasn’t going to crawl under the house. Dasha did, nothing that struck her as unusual.
Dasha snuggled with me on the tuffet through most of Sunday afternoon.
A man and a woman came to visit from Portland, arriving Tuesday and leaving Thursday. I got the feeling it was a business deal. We had another woman who came in Wednesday, Moira, going over a long list of things with Dasha and Julya. At one point they spoke to me in English and asked me which of two carpet samples I liked. Why me? I pointed to one. Moira asked if I liked the cabinetry in the den upstairs. It was okay, but I liked a less ornate design. Not IKEA-sparse and cheap, but less ornate. Oak, walnut, or cherry? I shrugged; for general work, the lighter woods, light oak or cherry. Darker stuff had its place, but tended to be more formal. She agreed with that. Something else that passed among them generated much laughter and shaking of heads, with looks my way. Don’t know what I was being accused of.
Oh, Julya and Dasha put sheared beaver seat covers in my car. Very nice, and very comfortable, even made to work with the airbags in the outer edges of the front seats.
They also argued more, and louder. I tried to stay out of the way during those times. Those were brief, but intense.
I had a new wardrobe, with pieces still coming in. Dasha had me pegged -- she sewed colored threads into different pieces to let me know what went with what.
We got proto boards for the new saddle power supply at work; we built three, and I helped with assembly and test. We ran two in test chambers, torturing them on the corners -- extremes in temperature, input, and load. They performed as expected. I put the third in a small metal box with a standard IEC connector on one end and a Euro socket on the other. That one was for the salon.
The three of us went to the salon. The ladies thought I was oh so much more dashing now that I was dressing better! I wanted to swap out the old power supply for the new one, and Rasha wanted to touch up my hair and face. Julya and Dasha wanted to make sure the new power supply worked as intended. Julya stripped down so she could go first, and insisted that I “help,” which involved me getting naked as well. Why argue?
As Julya settled into the saddle, she pulled me in front of her, attaching me to a nipple, and turning on the saddle. The saddle seemed to work well with the new supply! My eyes were closed as I concentrated on her nipple. The hand squeezing me in place fell away, and I thought I heard a change in her moaning. Another hand eased me back.
Kiki, also naked, was behind Julya holding a pink plastic mask to Julya’s face as well as holding her up. One of the other girls turned off the saddle and two of them deftly put Julya on a low gurney and wheeled her away -- as Kiki pushed me to my back on a cushion, impaling herself and leaning forward to hold me to one of her nipples. I wasn’t going to last long, and I didn’t care!
I stiffened up as I got to the edge, and she smothered me to her, filling me with a breast. So intense, filling her, being squeezed and smothered -- eventually I was trying to breathe, getting more animated, and she let me go a bit. I turned my head and gasped, only noticing the mask on my face when it was too late.
Opening my eyes, feeling a mask on my face, something quite pleasant going on... I was half sitting up, and in my lap was a young woman, back to me, doing an amazing dance on my cock, hard and deep inside her. I raised my hands and put them on her hips, feeling her soft skin as she danced and swirled on me. I ran fingernails up her back from her bottom, eliciting a moan and her pressing down onto me, swirling and grinding, her long dark hair coming down below her shoulder blades moving in counterpoint to her hips.
My head was buzzing and it was all so good, mesmerized watching her bottom dance on top of me, feeling her. I turned my knees out and spread them a bit which helped us both.
She started doing something, pushing back on me as she went down. I started moaning.
My hands touching her hips, fingers feathering out over her skin as she danced on me; I wanted to close my eyes and let my head fall back, but I was still mesmerized by the sight, watching and feeling. I felt that tingling and felt it growing -- I was getting close. I moved my hands so my fingertips brushed the insides of her hips, which got more noise from her and another shift in motion.
So close, and she must have felt it as well, slowing, moving so sensuously. I was making noise, too, not really with it. The mask on my face pulled away, replaced by soft lips, Dasha’s lips, kissing me hungrily, pulling away only to be replaced by one of her nipples, and it’s all over as I’m coming, trying to move my hips, holding her hips, all so good.
It took me a while to come back to Earth. Dasha was still holding me to her as someone slipped out of my grasp and out of my lap. Coolness of a washcloth and then a towel cleaning me up; the brief sensation of lips and a mouth had me flopping like a fish for a brief moment.
Dasha pulled away and someone redid my hair with a comb. Pulled more to sitting, I guess I need to open my eyes again... Getting dressed with help from Dasha and one other. Looked like my pants and shirt had been pressed or ironed... Looking in a mirror, my hair had been lightened a bit more. Must have been because I was still spaced out, but I thought it looked good.
We met Julya in the hallway. Julya thought I looked even more dashing, and gave me a big hug and kiss. So good to hold her, feel our bodies pressing together.
In her office, we thanked Rasha, and she thanked us. I said I’d really like to thank whoever had been in my lap! After the laughter, Rasha said something and one of her crew ducked out, returning with a cutie with long hair. She was still glowing, barefoot, wearing a white robe. I opened my arms, picking her up, holding and kissing her. She wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist; I moved my hands to supporting her luscious bottom. When I put her down she was smiling from ear to ear. She said something that made the other ladies chuckle, and danced out of the office.
Dasha and Julya stepped to my sides. Julya said, “We should take you home -- while we can!”
I got to sit in the back with Julya, Dasha driving. Glad I took off my coat; I needed to hold Julya, and she needed to hold me. I zoned out on the ride home. Once we got home, Julya and I went to her bed. I was so hungry for her, not just for her breasts, but for skin against skin, for her weight pressing against me, for all of her. And the way she held me, I think she shared that hunger.
At dinner that night the ladies were somewhere between questioning and teasing me about my experiences earlier in the day. No, I most certainly had never experienced anything like that before! I reached out to hold their hands and told them that I still needed to hold them, and to be held. Dasha was amazed at how long I’d lasted and the noise I’d made. News to me!
Later, Julya’s phone rang. She answered, soon stepping to the back porch. Dasha and I cleared the table and started doing dishes. Julya was screaming at someone over the phone! So animated! So loud! Julya is not a petite woman -- I would not want her upset with me! And that’s ignoring the part about being an Olympics-class rifle shot!
Her call ended as we were drying pots and putting them away. Back in the kitchen, Julya looked exasperated. She shook her head and exchanged a few sentences in a calm low tone with Dasha. Shaking her head, she trudged slowly upstairs.
“What can I do to help?” I asked Dasha, running a hand over her back.
Dasha sighed and shook her head. She put down the dishtowel and hugged me, head on my shoulder. “I do not know. Be in my arms and hold me.”
That I could do.
No more outbursts as violent or loud, but something serious was doing more than simmering.
Julya turned clingy, wanting me in bed with her, or wrapped up together on the tuffet. I was pretty sure she was using at least one of the nose sprays, or the equivalent, as she seemed somewhat spaced out and very responsive at the same time.
Rough seas -- a good reason to go into work!
Tuesday morning after an early morning meeting, I got a call from the cal lab. Did I really have a model such-and-so Anritsu spectrum analyzer. Yes, I did. Was it still in cal? I brought up my spreadsheet; yes, it wasn’t due for two and a half months. Would it be possible to borrow it for a few days? They really, really needed another one for some testing. Okay, how soon did they need it? Ah, now? How soon could I get it? There was a big deal hanging on this. I agreed to bring it in if they returned it to me with a fresh cal certificate. Deal!
Luckily traffic had dissipated as I drove back to my house to pick it up. I knew where it was sitting, still in the cloth Trader Joe’s bag.
What the hell? I drive up to my house, and there are contractor’s trucks and panel vans parked around the place, even in my driveway! My front door is wide fucking open!
I parked in front and walked in my wide-open front door. Besides a painting crew outside and a guy working on a lawn sprinkler, there’s a crew inside doing painting, and racket coming from upstairs and the family room! Tradesmen all over the goddamn place!
“So good to see you!” Moira called with a big smile walking up to me, clipboard in hand.
“What the hell is happening to my house?” I demanded.
She took my arm in hers, pulling me out of the doorway and into the living room. She looked at the clipboard. Two guys came in the door carrying a roll of carpet up the stairs! The top page was a longish list, neatly hand printed in Cyrillic, almost looking machine done it was so precise. “We are cleaning and fixing up, darling!” she started out. “Clean house, inside and out, all windows and screens, repair and replace screens done. Preparation and painting will be done tomorrow. We ...”
I heard the sound of a pneumatic nailer coming from the family room! That’s where I headed, Moira attached to my arm. Passing the kitchen, two young women were putting things back into the kitchen cabinets! Why? What’s going on!
The family room furniture was up against the walls, covered in plastic. The wall that used to have floor to ceiling storage and bookcases, with a center split for my antique wall clock and below it the TV, now had new cabinetry being installed with a wall mount for a TV where the clock had been.
“Where the hell is my clock? What’s going on?” I demanded.
“Darling,” Moira tugged on my arm to move out of the way of more cabinets coming in, “Clock is with expert clock service being...” she flipped to a different page on her clipboard, “Cleaned and regulated. Back tomorrow. They say best place is there, that wall.” She pointed to a blue-taped outline on an inside wall. I could see a sturdy hanger at the appropriate height in the outline for the clock.
A guy on a ladder was (re)painting the crown moulding. As I looked around in growing exasperation, I turned to my office. At least the lights were off and that looked untouched. Wait... “Where are the fucking doors!” The door to the office, the door to the downstairs bathroom, the closet doors, the laundry room door -- gone!
“They are being refinished,” Moira explained, “back later this afternoon. Darling, you should come back Thursday afternoon when all is done. I am so sorry for you to see house this way; Dasha and Julya wanted to surprise you.”
They sure as hell were doing that! I took a deep breath. I need to get out of here before I go for the shotgun and make a mess. I untangled myself from Moira, walked into my office, and got the bag with the Anritsu in it. Charger in the bag as well; I’d moved the NLJ box and its parts to another bag. I turned to look for the Anritsu hard case but shook my head -- I need to get out of here! Now!
“Do not touch anything in that room!” I pointed to the office as I spoke to Moira.
I had what I needed. I walked past her and out to my car. I got in and headed off.
Shaking my head, trying to focus again. Shaking my head, hell, my hands were shaking! They were trying to help. Think of it that way. They were trying to help, cleaning up and fixing things. Another deep breath. Reframe, you know how to do this... God knows, the place needs it... Just the screens and windows, getting those cleaned and up to snuff... The new cabinets did look nice, and the old TV ... well, it was old. Look on the bright side -- stuff I’d probably never have done. Still, the liberties they were taking, going into my house like that. I snorted a laugh; the liberties they’d taken with my body, the things we’d done together... Operating from a different rule book, that’s for sure.
Got back to the salt mines. Called George in the cal lab and he came out to reception with the proper stickers for the Anritsu identifying it as my property and not the company’s. The guy with him, a compliance testing engineer, was itching to get his hands on it. We shook hands. I told him to take good care of it. He took off, grinning from ear to ear. George thanked me again, assuring me that the guy who had my spectrum analyzer was not the one who had dropped one of theirs... Thanks, George!
About two fifteen, I was in a meeting not really paying attention when my phone started barking; a very distinctive ring tone. People looked at me as I stood up. “Gotta take this one,” I said as I stepped outside the conference room.
From the barking, I knew it was my attorney, Tony. Hadn’t talked to him in a while. “Tony, what crazy thing do those bastards want now?” I answered the call. About the only time I heard from him was when the other side had some ridiculous demand to further stall things.
Tony laughed. “Rob, it’s the craziest thing yet. Are you sitting down?” Tony asked.
I moved to a nearby empty cubicle and had a seat. “I am now. What do they want now?” Last time they’d demanded I have a complete mental evaluation; it took us two months to get that shot down as irrelevant and fucking abusive. Yeah, Tony told me that was practically lightning speed in legal terms, and the fact that they made the request and fought for it pissed off the judge no end, and he was plenty pissed with them already for all their antics.
“Rob, I just got a call from Cameron, their counsel, and they want to settle.”
“W... What? Did you say settle? Let me guess, a buck fifty?” Got to be some ridiculous low-ball amount.
“No,” Tony said, “They’re offering four million to you, covering us separately.”
“Jesus! Tony, is this for real?” I was glad I was sitting down!
“Rob, it sure sounds real to me! I’m as surprised as you are. I had Cameron conference in his client, and he wants to settle, and he really, really wants to do it today!”
“They’ll sign what we want, whatever gives me the best treatment tax-wise?” I asked.
“Rob, I think he’ll sign anything up to and including admissions of bestiality and necrophilia. I couldn’t understand a lot of what he was saying, but this guy wants to settle! He wants to wire transfer money today, now! Cameron insisted I call him back immediately after I talk to you.”
“Jesus, Tony... This is a shock. ... Damn, if it’s for real, take it! Get the language we want and go for it. I don’t know what else to say.”
“I’m as surprised as you are, Rob; I was expecting another absurd demand, anything but this. Okay -- I’m asking you to confirm that we are willing to settle outstanding litigation with a payment of four million to you, under the terms we’ve previously discussed, and offered?”
“Tony, I’ll accept their offer of four million on our terms. Let me know what else I need to do.”
“I’ll need you to sign paperwork, but that won’t be for a few days.”
“Damn, this is a surprise!” I reiterated.
“But a good one for a change,” Tony agreed.
“Okay counsel, let me know. And if this is some goddamn ruse...”
“I don’t think so, Rob. I think this one is real.”
“Thanks, Tony. Later.”
I went back to the meeting, shaking my head. The bastard that headed up the company we were suing on the death of my family had laughed in my face and told me I would never get a dime from him as long as he was alive...
Half an hour later or so, the presentation now moved to software QA issues, a dim light came on.
“Oh fuck,” I said out loud. I stood up and went outside again, calling Tony on my phone.
I got the desk, who transferred my call.
“Rob, great timing -- their wire transfer just hit our account. We’ll turn it around in the next couple of days,” Tony told me.
“Tony, that bastard is Eastern European, right?” I didn’t remember what country.
“Yeah, Ukraine I think, or something around there, why?”
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered.
“Rob,” he asked cautiously, “do you have any idea what may have precipitated this sudden change of heart?”
I sighed. How do I answer that? I smiled, remembering all the coaching he’d given me for responding to questions in my depositions, which had been nasty and long. “Tony, if I’m answering by the deposition rules you taught me, I don’t know.”
He laughed, a low laugh. “Rob, I am not going to ask any more questions along that line! I most categorically do not want to know! I’ll rack this one up to tenacious representation on our part!”
“Yeah. You’ve been great, Tony.”
“I’ll give you a call when we do the wire transfer to your account.”
“Thanks, Tony.”
I made a stop at the loo before returning to the meeting. It ended, thankfully, a few minutes later and I took a long walk around campus. Someone giving me a little more help, it would seem.
I was scatterbrained the rest of the afternoon. Definitely people with a different rulebook!
“Pay attention, dummy!” I scolded myself driving to their house. But I arrived intact, a shorter drive than if I was going back to my house, which was good for me considering my state of mind.
Parked in my usual spot and went in the back door, which was unlocked. Julya was in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove. Smelled good.
She gave me a cautious smile. I approached, arms out. We hugged and kissed.
Still holding each other, she asked, “You are not upset with us?”
I sighed, holding her. “About the house, or the other?” I replied, and kissed her neck.
She held me closer.
“You play by different rules than I do,” I told her. “I am not upset with you.”
She tilted her head, exposing more neck, knowing I would need to kiss and bite her. She let out a sighing moan, her hands on my back pulling me closer. “You went to house today?” she asked.
“Yes; I needed something for work. That was quite a surprise.”
She sighed again; I pulled her head to my shoulder. She snuggled closer and kissed my cheek. “You have been such a help to us. We want to do something to help in return.”
“Tease me, be on top of me, and take me to sleep in your arms afterwards,” I whispered.
She snuggled in more. “Mmm... But I would do that anyway, darling... And you are so good in the morning...”
After another kiss she asked, “Pour us wine?”
“Of course.”
She returned to the stove. I pulled a bottle of Riesling out of the fridge. “Two glasses or three?”
“Dasha sister in office,” she told me.
I poured three glasses, handing her one. I took the other to the office.
Dasha was at her desk, a pen between her teeth, looking at her computer screen. She smiled initially, her look turning more uncertain. I put the glass of wine down and kissed her.
“You are not mad with us?” she asked as I sat in one of the folding chairs.
I shook my head. “I am not mad at you. As I told Julya sister, you play by different rules.”
She smiled a bit, a knowing smile. “But are you happy with what we have done?”
I smiled. “That is a different question. I’m not sure yet.”
She smirked more and sat in my lap facing me, wrapping her arms around me as we kissed.
Sitting back, a smiling frown on her face, she whispered, “You have helped us very much.”
I put my hands behind her hips and pulled them closer, moving my legs apart a little more.
She held my shoulders, letting her head fall back, moving her hips into me more and moaning. “Oh! I want you!” She looked at me, shaking her head. “I can wait for you on the bed... Unless?”
I ran my hands over her breasts gently. “I can wait.”
She pulled my hands away and pulled my head between her breasts, holding me tight. I held her as well.
Eventually we headed to the kitchen to join Julya. Dasha spoke with her for a bit. Julya laughed, shaking her head, looking at me. “Some times Dasha sister asks better questions.”
I put down my wine glass and gave her a kiss.
We had a quiet dinner. No phone calls, no shouting. As we finished, and after some conversation between the ladies, Julya told me, “One of us will drive you to your work on Thursday and pick you up, yes?”
I nodded, taking another sip of wine. “I promise to be surprised.”
Julya smirked and gave me a low laugh. “I think we can still surprise you, darling,” she threatened.
No surprises in bed with Dasha that night; she teased me, then rode us to an intense orgasm. We went to sleep wrapped up in each other.
I got a call from Tony just before lunch Wednesday that they’d done a wire transfer to my brokerage account, and would like me to come by the office Friday before noon to sign papers. I checked my calendar; nothing at work. I was about to quote an early time and reconsidered, agreeing on eleven at his place. That would work; they’d get things filed with the court that afternoon. I received a phone call from an actual human being at the brokerage service, confirming that I’d received a whopping amount of money. Yes, it’s settlement of litigation. They sounded interested in helping me spread it around. I’ll think about it.
Thursday morning Dasha took me to work in my car. Julya picked me up in hers at the end of the day and headed to my house. Traffic wasn’t bad -- we could use the carpool lane!
I was surprised -- from half a block away the place looked the same, but as we got closer I started noticing things. Outside looked tidier, cleaner. Bushes trimmed, looked like the fences had gotten a coat of preservative. Trim looked sharper. My car was parked in the driveway.
We parked along the side of the house and went in the front door. The door had been repainted and the sill worked on as well; it gets a lot of sun, and that’s hard on any finish.
Inside, the place sparkled! Cleaner than I’d ever had it, that’s for sure. Looked like most of the trim had been repainted. The windows were clean, the screens clean, even the glass doors on the fireplace were clean. I could hear noise in the kitchen.
Looking in the dining room... “Whoa...” The table was set for three, with the china and silver I’d inherited from my mother.
In the kitchen -- two of the young women I’d seen as part of Moira’s crew? “Where’s Dasha?” I asked Julya.
Julya smiled. “Getting ready.”
Thanks for the non-answer... Didn’t look much into the kitchen, except that it was in use and things smelled very good. The family room -- what a change! The old cabinetry had been painted white; paint-grade cabinets are less expensive. The new cabinetry was very nice, light oak, a new widescreen TV integrated nicely into everything. Looking at that wall, they had to have redone the drywall; some of my earlier sins were no longer visible.
And my old regulator clock was hanging on an interior wall, looking like it had been there for a long time. It would take me a while to get used to it there, but it looked good, matching the cabinets.
“Stay downstairs -- I go change,” Julya told me, giving me a squeeze and heading to the stairs.
Okay... My office still looked a shambles, just the way I like it. Well, some improvements in organization would be useful, but somehow I’d not had the cross product of time and motivation to do that. It is a cross product; got to have both. Oh, they did finish the crown moulding and the moulding along the floor, and the carpet had been vacuumed, at least where it was visible and accessible.
The laundry room is at the back of the house, along with the door to the garage. I’d left drywall sins there, too. Did they fix those? Sticking my head in the laundry room, not only had they fixed the drywall and repainted, the washer and dryer were new!
Back in the family room, I walked to the bookshelves, the ones on the right side. I reached up, touching the books on the second shelf. They’d put them back. My wife’s books. Another connection. I sighed, turning as I sensed someone near me. One of the young ladies, offering me a glass of red wine. “Thank you,” I said, taking it. She nodded and returned to the kitchen.
The chair by the window had been my wife’s chair. I sat down, picking up a unified remote. Its touchscreen lit up with choices. Gee, set up a lot like I did someone else’s! I set it down; later.
Dammit, I want to get a chair for me! I knew what I wanted to get; I’ve known for a decade or more, just never thought it was worth spending money on. I’ll go get one, or at least order it, tomorrow or Saturday.
Sitting there, sipping wine... It was almost over, the nightmare with my family. Yeah, I get to relive it one more time, signing papers at Tony’s office in Palo Alto on Friday. But then it would be over -- it would fucking be over! Shook my head and took another sip. I’d promised myself I’d do things when it was over. What things? Looked at the books again. Why was I still keeping them? Why was I still keeping them there? I knew the answer, or at least part of it. Yet if I got rid of everything in the house that I reasonably wouldn’t expect to use in the next ... five years? At some point, are we reduced to nothing but our memories? Our memories and the objects that rekindle them? Clutching at the past, knowing what the future must bring?
Is that living? Look forward! What have I wanted to do? A snicker -- always wanted to build a swept-comb jammer for 2.4 GHz, something to take out Wi-Fi and Bluetooth locally. Maybe extend it to 1800 - 1900 MHz... Yeah, one for the car that covers cell and 2.4 gig. Okay, a comb generator, filtering, amplification... Generate the comb at target frequency, or baseband and mix it to get to the target range? FM the comb some?
Maybe I should rebuild the speed sign gadget, document it and post the docs on the web anonymously. Wonder if Peter still had it... Velcro one part to your rear-view mirror facing forward, that part connected to a little box with two buttons on it, one labeled 28 the other 48. Those are the speed readings that X or K-band speed signs (Doppler radar) will show when you hold down the buttons... A simple gadget, and fun. Always wanted to semi-automate it with something like a Valentine One detector using their remote display. Did I know anyone at Santa Rosa anymore? A reasonably wideband TWT would do it; around here, Ka band was where the action was. Could you punch out the front end? What kind of transmit power would it take? You’d have to stick with a small horn antenna; anything high gain would be too big, too unwieldy, and you’re not going to have the time or ability to aim the sucker. Chirped Ka band magnetron?
Don’t know how long I sat there gathering techno-wool... I looked up when someone said, “Sir?” One of the young ladies standing there. “Dinner,” she said.
I handed her my wine glass, got up, and visited the downstairs loo. The trim had been at least repainted, if not redone. Took a leak, then washed my hands and face.
Dinner smelled good -- someone had killed at least one garlic.
Stepping around the corner into the dining room, I froze...
Lights in the dining room dimmed, candles lit -- and Julya and Dasha standing there, both wearing dresses. Dasha’s was a light color, low cut, showing where I loved to be... Julya was wearing a long stretch velvet dress with a higher collar, one which showed her curves in a devastating manner.
“You are beautiful, both of you -- what a wonderful surprise!” I managed to say. I went to Dasha, holding and kissing her, “What delicious perfume,” I whispered in her ear. I pulled out her chair and helped seat her.
Going to Julya... “Do you know what that dress does to me?” I told her, trying to be somewhat subtle about running my hands over her, so sexy in that dress. I managed to get her seated without grabbing her or burying my head between her breasts...
When I sat down, I glanced to Dasha, who had opened the front of her dress a bit more, showing more cleavage. I sighed. “You expect me to concentrate, to be coherent, with the two of you looking like this?” I asked.
Julya picked up her wine glass and replied, “No, darling.”
I laughed, shaking my head, and they laughed with me.
The other two served us a very good dinner; pork roast with a nice sauce, garlic potatoes, fresh veggies, salad. Even had a very nice custard for dessert, and we didn’t have to do the dishes!
Julya and Dasha wanted to sit in the living room after. I wanted to grab them, but what else is new? We talked about my schedule for Friday. I needed to leave here around ten thirty to get to Tony’s office by eleven to sign papers. After that? Not sure. Oh, definitely wanted to look for a chair! I could do that in Palo Alto, the place that carried them had a location in Palo Alto.
Could one of them meet me? Possibly with Moira? I started to bristle, but they quickly explained that they wouldn’t attempt to talk me out of anything, just suggest colors or options that went better with the décor. And have lunch? Okay, that could work. They were probably twenty minutes away; I could give them a call as Tony and I were wrapping up business.
I was feeling relaxed, maybe a little stoned, and could tell I’d be quite hard with the slightest provocation, such as looking at the way the light played on the soft fabric covering Julya’s delicious bosom. Or Dasha’s delicious expanse of skin.
“How long are you going to torture me?” I asked them.
“Here downstairs, or upstairs?” Dasha asked with a smirk.
Julya stood. “I think we show you upstairs now.”
She started to pull me to standing, but I pulled her closer, my head going between her breasts and my arms going around her waist. She sighed and held me. “You behaved well during dinner, darling,” she told me. She stepped away and Dasha grabbed me for a moment.
The three of us headed upstairs. Three bedrooms upstairs, two of them sharing a bathroom, and then the master suite with its bathroom. New carpeting upstairs, the one I’d selected. Both small bedrooms had been completely redone: repainted, redecorated, and refurnished. Where there’d been a queen-sized bed in my son’s room and a trundle in my daughter’s, both now had queen sized beds and matching furniture, with fur covers for the beds. They showed me how soft the bed covers were, by pulling me down on the beds with them.
The shared bathroom also had been cleaned up. Matching towels? Heresy! I touched a spot on a wall, once again the same texture as the surrounding area, recalling the evening when our daughter found out someone was seeing someone else behind her back, and the screams and loud noises we’d heard coming from upstairs, finding the divot in the wall the next day...
Our, my bedroom -- the tuffet had moved! It was on the floor near the window on the far side of the room! All the furniture was different, and matching, something that had never happened before. But the mirror above the bed was still there, a gift from a friend on our wedding day... I had my arms around both ladies. “Thank you, thank you both,” I whispered.
The bed frame had two short posts at the bottom, robust looking, and taller posts at the head. The bedcover and the pillow shams were, of course, fur.
“You should like this,” Dasha said, turning me to the master bath and turning on the light.
I was very impressed! “The cabinets didn’t get finished the way we wanted them,” I admitted, looking at the beautifully refinished woodwork in the bathroom. Looking at the grout lines in the marble, those had been redone, repairing decades of settling. Took a quick peek in the shower enclosure, and the grout had been reworked there, too. “Very nice!”
Did I hear a door closing? I turned and Julya stepped closer.
“I have you tonight, and Dasha sister has you in morning,” she whispered, pulling me into a kiss.
On the bed, feeling her in that dress, kissing her, enjoying so much. She held me and rolled on top of me, smothering me between her breasts in that delicious dress. Getting her out of that dress, skin touching skin, on top of her, sliding into her, sitting up and teasing her button then kissing at both ends and giving myself to her. Crawling into soft flannel sheets with a fur cover. She pulled me to a nipple and rocked us both to sleep.
I woke to Dasha, eager and energetic. I managed to escape for long enough to use the loo! But then it was back in bed with her, holding, kissing, feeling. I gave myself to her, and she used me. She had me on my back, doing that incredible thing with her hips, looking in my eyes, enjoying driving me crazy underneath her. She enjoyed it too! And the most important part, holding each other afterwards.
We showered together, got dressed, and headed downstairs. Julya had already taken off. We had a little to eat; I was a little concerned at how my guts were going to respond to upcoming events, so I went easy. We agreed, I’d call her when I was about done, and she and Moira would meet me at the chair place in Palo Alto.
Hugs and kisses and we took off in different directions.
Sitting in Tony’s conference room, signing multiple copies of the settlement, drawing an end to a nasty chapter of my life. I thanked him once again for his assistance and perseverance in making it through. He sighed and shook his head. I called Dasha and told her I’d be leaving in a few minutes. Tony and I talked a little about moving the money around; I’d made a call to the gal I’d used as a financial planner. I wanted to put the money into grandma-grade tax frees, held by the trust that held most everything of mine, including the house. He thought that was the way to go. I got my copy of the papers and the rest were bundled up and handed to an associate to file with the court.
Sort of a relieved feeling driving off to the chair place. It was done. Shook my head -- I hope the hell it stays done! I felt sure the guy had been leaned on... Don’t wanna know!
Recognized Dasha’s car as I parked at the chair place. She was talking to a salesgal. I walked over to the chair I wanted, a wood-framed recliner done in a green leather. It was even on sale! I tried it, and it felt great. That’s when Moira walked in; she agreed that the colors would work fine. Good answer, as I was going to get it anyway! We wrote it up and the salesgal surprised me by asking if I would be home between three and five today for delivery -- sure!
I was standing at the order counter near the back of the store. I turned and looked to the chair to see Moira using her tape measure and writing down numbers. I thought the chair would fit... I nodded a bit -- I think this may be for a nice cover, something like that? A hand on my shoulder.
I turned to Dasha standing next to me, a pensive look on her face.
She sighed and pulled me to one of the bedding sets the store had on display, sitting us on the edge of the bed together and sighing again, looking at me.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Darling,” she said in a somber voice, looking at me. “This I know is very fast, too fast. You... You need to stay at your house from now. We thought maybe not until Sunday, but people arriving today late. We have meeting at our house, many people coming in. Julya sister and I share my room, all other rooms full as well. Darling...” She stopped and held me.
I held her tight. For all I felt, I didn’t have any tears. I held her, cradling her head to my shoulder. She held on, whispering something in her own language.
She sat back a bit and looked at me again, a little bit of a smile peeking out. She shook her head. “We had hopes, that we could start again here in your country.” She shook her head again, sighing. “Perhaps is not meant to be? You have helped so much! Some things we learn we did no like, but is better for us to learn them. You helped so much.” She sighed again, looking at me, then tilted her head slightly, closing her eyes part way.
That I understood -- we held each other and kissed. At the end of a long soft kiss we held each other again. Big sighs from both of us.
She looked at me, smiling more, maybe a little more upbeat. “This is change, big change. But this is not goodbye, darling. That I promise.” Another kiss, a brief one, and we stood up.
With another hug, we parted. She left the store. Moira was already gone. The sales gal had been holding back at a safe distance; she confirmed I’d be home between three and five; they’d be wrapping it and loading it on the truck shortly for their afternoon deliveries.
I thanked her again for her help; I’d be home all afternoon.
Sitting in my car in the parking lot again, shaking my head. What a trip -- a month and a half with them? What an incredible roller-coaster ride!
Friday afternoon, just about lunch time. I’m not at all hungry. I shook my head -- I’d been through that mess before; I needed to eat something. I didn’t need to do the whole withdrawal - not eating thing again.
I got out of the car and walked across the street to Burger King for a gourmet repast -- Whopper with cheese no lettuce no pickle add bacon, Dr. Pepper no ice.
Back to the car and head home, my home.
Backed the car into the garage as I usually do. Not much change there, except a few newer cans of paint on a plastic dropcloth by the other cans of paint.
Took off my watch and put it and my keys in the little basket by the answering machine. Put the stack of papers there, too. I’d take them to the salt mines and scan them into a PDF.
Any food in the house? I’d refilled my soda cup before leaving BK. Look later; I probably still had frozen chicken parts in the freezer -- bachelor chow. I was covered for dinner, and could do grocery shopping tomorrow, or I could go out, which probably meant fast food.
Went into my office and hooked up the laptop, reconfiguring systems for the normal me-at-home modes, and started a set of backups.
Remembered my promise to myself and dug out the little X band Doppler modules I’d gotten. Each one had a DRO for the transmit side feeding a mixer on the receive side. You could MCW the DRO around 50 KHz. First rule of ECM -- beat the return by at least 3dB and you own the receiver; FM or MCW the transmitter at a few KHz and you can make a speed sign display what you want.
I didn’t have any chips that could drive the DRO directly; I’d have to check lab stock at the salt mines. I breadboarded a cheesy totem-pole driver that could easily swing the current needed. Measured rise and fall times on the order of 20ns, not too bad. I dug out my “Hot Wheels” radar gun and clamped it to the bookcases at the other end of the room. I hooked one of the Doppler panels to my HP function generator through the totem-pole driver.
Worked great -- I could get the radar gun to display any number I wanted. Next step was to use the RX mixer output and gate it on in longer bursts only when needed. For that I had to do sort of a range-gate on the mixer output, amplify it, and then probably do an FFT as the thing would be moving. I had an audio spectrum analyzer hack on my Macbook Pro that would do the FFT, so all I needed was low-pass filtering and amplification. I could build that on the same board as the totem-pole DRO driver.
I was digging up parts when the doorbell rang -- a quarter to three -- they’re here already? Did a quick sweep of the lab bench to make sure things were safe, and headed for the door.
What? Moira and one of the gals that had been helping? I invited them in.
“This is Helen,” Moira introduced. “She is going to be your housekeeper, and help you tame the rest of your house.”
Helen smiled.
A little taller than Dasha, nice looking top, nice sized, and with a larger, softer looking bottom. Hadn’t noticed that when she’d been wearing an apron and serving us, or when she’d been wearing a smock over other clothes working on the place.
“Welcome,” I told her, then asked, “Do you speak English?”
“I should hope so, dear,” she replied with a British accent.
I laughed. “My apologies -- my world has been somewhat exciting of late.”
She nodded. “Oh, I understand. It has been exciting for us as well!”
We went into the family room and sat down. I’d moved things around for my chair. Moira thought the placement would be fine. That’s where I’m putting it anyway!
Helen would be my housekeeper; there were a few parts of the house that still needed attention (glances at my office)...
To my looks of concern, Helen volunteered that she had spent her teen years working with one of her uncles, who was curator for the entomology collections at Kings in London.
I didn’t know if my stuff would be quite so interesting...
She smiled and told me she was looking forward to learning, and working with me.
That satisfied Moira! She stood up, told us she would check in the end of the week, and headed for the door!
Standing at the door watching Moira walk to her car, I turned to Helen again. “Do you need help bringing things in?”
She smiled and shook her head. Short brown hair, bouncy. “No, already upstairs.”
I closed the door and sighed. What a deal. “Helen, I don’t want you to feel under any pressure -- I want you to be ...”
She grabbed my head in both hands, kissing me and pushing me back against the door, pressing up against me. Answered that question!
“Oh you silly man!” she whispered in my ear. She leaned back a bit, hips still pressing against me nicely, smiling, and told me, “That’s almost exactly what Dasha said you’d do.”
I shook my head at that one. I closed my eyes and held her close, feeling her, smelling her, and kissing her neck. She sighed out, “That’s much better...”
Stepping apart after a bit, she looked at the living room, the room where nobody goes. “You know what I would do?” she asked.
“What?”
“I’d put the old chair over there,” she pointed, “moving those tables a bit. And then...” She led me to the living room. “Move the loveseat over there, so the chair can be more centered. Pull that table to the corner with the couch to block off that area, provide a safe path for cords from the chair, and a place to put things like remotes. What do you think?”
I held her close. “I’m even happier you’re here,” I told her. She laughed and held me.
We moved the furniture around. Yeah, that was going to work much better. When we finished moving furniture in the family room, getting ready for the new chair, she pushed me to the couch and lay on top of me. I held her tight; I couldn’t help it. She moved up so my head was between her cloth-covered breasts. “I want you to make love to me in every room of the house,” she challenged.
I pulled my mouth away from her long enough to correct, “I’ll make love with you,” and went back to appreciating her softness and listening to her racing heart. She squeezed me close.
I let her sit up a while later, only sighing a little. She smiled, pulled off her top and bra, and leaned down again, pulling me to a tight, tasty nipple. She held me, moving on top of me. “Were they as sexy as they looked last night? Did Julya tease you shamelessly before she took you? Because that’s what I’m going to do...” Her nipple was firm and so inviting in my mouth.
I was drifting in that halfway place, halfway to heaven in her arms, when I felt her nipple tightening and felt her moving. I sucked more and moved a hand to get between her legs. As I slid my hand along her pants, she moaned and reached to pop them open for me. I managed to move my hand and fingers where they would do her more good. I’d barely started when she moaned and shuddered around me, holding my head tight. She started moving a while later and I removed my hand, moving it to her back to hold her better. She kissed my forehead.
The doorbell -- she moved to sitting. I held her waist as she hurriedly redid her bra and top, getting off me, running a hand down to my groin in the process. I moved to sitting and got up slowly, straightening myself out as well.
She’d opened the door for the chair delivery people. We showed them where it went. They were pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t going upstairs. One of the guys mentioned that the bigger and heavier it is, the more likely it has to go upstairs. I laughed with them and told him I knew how that worked...
They brought it in wrapped in plastic, put it in place, and unwrapped it. I got an extension cord from one of my boxes of cables to provide power to it. All set, and it looked great! I signed for it, thanked them and wished them easy boring deliveries, and they took off.
Helen wanted me to try it. I sat down. Looked like it would work great for watching TV. I pushed the button to recline it, and it started moving. Nice.
“Hold it there!” Helen called.
When I started to ask why, she swung a leg over the side and sat in my lap facing me!
She smiled and rocked her hips. Her bottom felt great. “Oh yes, this is going to work nicely. Recline a bit more please?” she requested.
I reclined the chair a bit more; she kept rocking. We found a quite nice spot. I was quite hard, pressing into her. She was able to put her hands on my shoulders for a bit more leverage. “Oh yes, quite nice! What do you think, dear?”
I held her hips, spreading my legs a bit more, which was a mistake. I pulled one hand away and started returning the chair to upright.
“Meanie,” she pouted, and got out of my lap.
“A bit too good,” I confessed.
She smirked. “Good... One more thing to try, if you would recline a bit more please -- just for a moment.”
I reclined the chair a bit more.
This time she straddled me, facing away from me! Oh God was that good! She leaned forward a bit, grasping the edges of the chair and using her upper body and torso muscles to torment me. I held her hips and moaned -- and started raising the chair again.
“We’re going to have to work with that quite a bit, aren’t we?” she suggested.
I sighed, looking at her.
“And how about this?” She pulled up her top and sat straddling me once more, leaning into me and holding me to a firm, tight nipple. I was hard again, but she was just pressing into me. She moved a hand behind my head, cradling me to her, and started reclining us. She found a position that was very nice. “Mmm,” she murmured as she held me, “Is it true that they have a way of holding you, that you are helpless in their arms?” I shuddered and moved my arms up her back to hold her better. “Sounds like it’s true...” She kissed my head and I sighed, settling in.
“You’re doing it again,” she whispered, almost gasped as I sucked on her. Her hips started moving against me. I loved the feeling of her nipple in my mouth, of her breast filling me, filling my face and my world, and of her hand at the back of my head holding me where I wanted to be. I put my hands on her hips, not to help her along, but to keep her from rubbing against me, and she moaned and shook, coming intensely. I moved my head, resting between her breasts as she held me, her rapidly beating heart filling me.
She kissed my head and moved, getting up.
“Why did you get up?” I asked.
She smiled. “There is house to keep -- I need to start dinner.”
I sighed, raising the chair. “But that was so nice...”
She put a hand on my shoulder, her fingers digging in some as she sighed. “Oh, I agree...” She shook her head, sighing again, giving me such a look of concentration, still some afterglow, confusion, of I’m not sure what. “They told me ... did you ... do you really hold them all night long?”
I pulled her closer, my head under her bosom as I wrapped my arms around her. “Those are wonderful nights, when we go to sleep holding each other, and wake the same way...”
One of her arms was around my shoulders, the other hand found the back of my head and held me close as she shuddered a little. “Oh how I want that,” she sighed.
“All you have to do is hold me and rock me to sleep in your arms,” I whispered.
Stepping back after a bit, that slight frown but with a slight smile as well.
“What?” I asked, still holding one of her hands.
“Why is it,” she started out, shaking her head slightly, “some men can’t or won’t, they think it’s not ‘man’ enough or something silly.”
I nodded, smiling, looking at her. “You said it -- so silly. I love being held, being lost, being so comforted and safe like that. And I love holding, sharing, and protecting as well. We can do both -- we need both.”
She smiled and leaned over to kiss me on the head. She turned and walked to the kitchen.
I opened some white wine for us a while later when I saw what she was cooking -- chicken and rice. We had a simple but nice meal with the remark, “You can show me grocery stores tomorrow.”
After dinner, after cleaning the kitchen, she led me into the office, turning on the lights as we went in. “Tomorrow,” she said, putting an arm around my waist, “I’m starting here,” she indicated the floor-to-ceiling bookcases along one wall of the office. Well, the top part was bookshelves, filled with mostly paperbacks, with other stuff in front of them. The bottom part is deeper cabinets, some with binders of stuff, and others, just filled with stuff. “What would you suggest?” she asked. “I want to organize the books, but I’m at sea over what to do with the rest...”
I sighed. “Yeah... I guess pull all the non-book crap off -- we can set up a folding table in the family room? I can sort through that, and you can organize books. As much as it hurts to do it, once they’re organized alphabetically, we can go through them and I can decide on which ones to keep. It hurts, but I can probably get rid of a lot of them.”
She rubbed my back. “I’ll do my best to ease the pain,” she murmured.
I pulled her into my arms, kissing fully, holding her.
“This is difficult,” I told her, still holding her close.
“I think I understand,” she whispered in reply.
Moving back a step, the look I gave her was probably not charitable.
She moved closer, putting her hands on my shoulders, her forearms on my chest. “Really, I think I do -- I’m learning. When I was younger, I helped my uncle move out of his office at Kings. I was helping him pack, after so many decades threre. I picked up something from one of his shelves; something small, something old, something broken, and asked him why he kept such things. He took it from me, holding it as if it were one of the most cherished relics of the age, and to him, it must have been... I saw the tears fill his eyes; I’d never seen such emotion in him. He told me it would be a long time until I understood, but such objects anchor us to memories, to the past, and to life itself. He told me that to part with them was to confront mortality, not only of ones we love, but one’s own mortality, to look at the certainty of our own death. I looked at him, and everything in his office differently from that moment on.”
I took her hand and led her to the family room, to that bookshelf on the right side of the TV. Holding one of her hands, with my other I reached up and touched those books... “These were my wife’s books... I remember her putting them here...” I stopped and laughed softly. “She never put them here; when we moved back into the house after remodeling, she put them in the previous shelves, one of the first things she put in this room. When I came in earlier in the week and the shelves, the books were gone -- such feelings... Then seeing them back again yesterday, all those memories. And yes, confronting not only our own death, but the deaths of those we loved. Is it silly of me to keep them? I know I’ll never open them, yet...” I couldn’t talk anymore.
We held each other. I buried myself in her hair, kissing her neck, holding her.
“I don’t know the answer,” she whispered, holding me, “other than to keep making new memories.”
“How would you like to start?” I suggested.
She sighed. “I’d like a quick shower, and then... Why don’t we go upstairs?”
We tidied up downstairs. She started turning off lights. I explained that most of the light switches were remote controllable, and we could turn them off from upstairs. She thought that a most useful idea!
Upstairs, I showed her the little control box by my side of the bed. The two larger buttons were labeled all lights on and all lights off, and that’s what they did -- I demonstrated. The all on one even turned on a bunch of outside lights.
She liked that, and had something to show me -- in the bathroom she opened the cabinet doors under what had been my wife’s sink and pulled out a cardboard box with dividers in it and a bunch of nose spray bottles! There was also a paper card, hand lettered, mostly in Cyrillic, with English translations.
“She said to use number 2,” and pulled out that spray bottle. The English entry on the card for that one was “hard + relax.” Number 1 was just “hard,” with the others being combinations of “hard” with “relax,” “sleepy,” “calm,” “stoned,” and “strong.”
She handed me the bottle with a smile.
“You should use this one as well,” I suggested.
She shrugged. “Why not?” She took it and used it, then I did.
“I’m going to shower -- wait for me?” she asked with a smile.
“Of course -- I’ll clean up.” I brushed my teeth and washed my face and hands while she undressed. Beautiful! Pale skin, beautiful breasts, full hips. “You are beautiful,” I growled.
She smiled, turning slowly to give me a better look, and got into the shower.
It took me a while before I could pee... Then it was off to the bedroom, taking off and folding my clothes. Hmmm... Tuffet or bed?
I started to lay down on the bed, but feeling that fur cover, in my present condition that wouldn’t work... I flopped on the tuffet instead, running a hand over the fur cover on the bed, letting my eyes close and my head buzz...
“My, that does look inviting!”
I opened my eyes to see her standing in the doorway. I think she may have been referring to my cock, sticking up in the air... Hope so, anyway...
I got up as she approached, pulling her into a kiss, feeling skin against skin. I eased her back on to the bed, pulling her hips close to the edge. I grabbed one of the fur-covered pillows and slid it up her stomach to her breasts; she sighed nicely and held on to it. “Good -- hold on to that for a while,” I suggested.
I went down on my knees and started kissing the insides of her thighs.
“Oh my,” she moaned...
She was delicious, and her bottom felt so inviting... She squeezed my head between her thighs for her first one, then let them fall open. I kissed her mound, then rolled her to her stomach, sliding into her, holding on to her hips, and riding her generous bottom. She held on to the pillow, burying her face in the fur and moaning as she rocked and pushed against me. As I got close I slowed down, savoring... She pulled her legs together, doing something with her bottom, and all I could do was to hold on, pushing into her and coming. I managed to grab the towel next to her on the bed as I collapsed on top of her. We managed to get cleaned up and under the covers. I held her close.
As far as I’m concerned, that’s the best place in the world, in bed holding someone close.
End of part 6
Rev 2011/08/14
On to Part 7!
Fits tight
By silli_artie@hotmail.com
https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/artie/www