Message-ID: <46476asstr$1075770607@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Mail-Format-Warning: No previous line for continuation: Wed Aug 14 16:30:23 2002Return-Path: X-Originating-Email: [gmwylie98260@hotmail.com] From: "Gina Marie Wylie" X-Original-Message-ID: X-OriginalArrivalTime: 02 Feb 2004 21:56:53.0358 (UTC) FILETIME=[77CBA0E0:01C3E9D7] X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 02 Feb 2004 14:56:53 -0700 Subject: {ASSM} Tom's Diary 4-02-02 {Gina Marie Wylie} (teen, mfF, cons) Lines: 1354 Date: Mon, 2 Feb 2004 20:10:07 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: newsman, hoisingr _________________________________________________________________ Let the new MSN Premium Internet Software make the most of your high-speed experience. http://join.msn.com/?pgmarket=en-us&page=byoa/prem&ST=1 <1st attachment, "Tom's_Diary_4-02-02.doc" begin> ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 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. <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderators: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at Hosted by | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+