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Introduction:

I propose to Sara.

>>>>>>

Sara stayed for the weekend, placing many of her new clothes in what had been Daisy’s closet and dresser. Neither of us had discussed her moving in with me, but it was in process none the less. I certainly had no objection. The more time I spent with Sara the more I realized how much I loved her and how much I wanted to be with her every second of every day. I went to work exhausted, looking for a much needed rest at my computer.

I had been in the office about two hours and Cara was on her break when the phone rang. I usually answered if she was away from her desk so I picked up the phone saying, “Tritech, John Gotti speaking.”

“You fucking bastard! I know you’re behind it.”

“Hello, Daisy—what part of ‘I don’t want to hear from you again’ didn’t you understand?”

“I know that you stole my mother’s money and I know you were behind my father’s disappearance. You’re not getting away with this. I promise you!”

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Daisy and, even if I did, I certainly wouldn’t say anything to you about it. You know, I’m really glad that all of my calls are recorded. I’m sure my lawyer will make great use of your remarks….” I never had the chance to finish. Daisy had ended the call in a huff. All the same, I passed the information to my attorney. My request for a restraining order was granted the following morning.

I had just finished the final touches on the contract with the Department of Defense three days later, having signed and my signature notarized by Cara. All that was needed now was the signature of the Secretary of Defense. That would occur tomorrow after the forty page contract was Fed Ex’d to the Pentagon. I could have cleared a hundred million a year on the deal, but I settled for thirty percent of that. There is a limit to how much I can spend and I knew I couldn’t come anywhere near that. I had just ended a phone call with my contact at the Pentagon when Cara informed me that two special agents from the FBI were here to see me. I handed her the completed document and stepped forward to greet the men I had expected for more than a month.

After shaking hands I asked to see their credentials. Before speaking I pulled up the New York office of the FBI on my computer, dialing my phone a second later. “May I speak with Agent Thomas Connor or Agent Michael Brennan, please?” I listened silently as the receptionist informed me that they were out of the office. “Agent Connor--he’s that old guy with the white hair, right?” I listened closely while she described the gentleman seated opposite me to a “T.” I thanked her and ended the call.

“Now, gentlemen—what can I do for you?”

“That was pretty slick. We’re investigating the disappearance of one Thomas O’Neill from Springfield, Massachusetts and the theft of his wife’s money from her investment accounts.”

“I can help you with Mr. O’Neill, but I know nothing about any theft of money from Mrs. O’Neill. Mr. O’Neill is in Budva—I hope I’m pronouncing that correctly--Montenegro setting up a branch of my company in Europe. I can reach him on the phone if you like, but before I do I want you to see several photos I have on my computer.”

I turned the monitor so they could see then I scrolled through several photos. “Mr. O’Neill was essentially his wife’s slave and…hold on a second…okay, here it is. She controlled him with this stainless steel cock cage. See the part under it that has captured his scrotum? The front part of this contains a tiny radio receiver and a mechanism that would shock his testicles at her whim. Here are a few photos of burn marks on his scrotum. And here are a few shots of his back and butt where she whipped him mercilessly with a cane and a paddle. She and her daughter--my ex-fiancee—had the same plans for me. Unfortunately for them, I overheard a phone call between the two of them and threw her out before the wedding. I readily admit helping Tom to escape his wife.

“May I ask how much money was stolen?”

“Somewhere between three point five and four million, near as we can tell so far.”

“Excuse me for saying this but that’s chicken feed. I just finished a huge contract with the Department of Defense that should bring me more than thirty million dollars the first year alone. That should be my profit on the deal. Why would I risk that for such a trivial amount? Do you know how it was stolen? You said it was invested?”

“Yes and the thefts seem to have been via computer. That’s why we’re here speaking with you.”

“That figures. I’m sure you have people who can trace the source of any sell orders. I assume that would have to occur before any theft would take place. It doesn’t make any sense to steal securities that can be easily traced even though there really aren’t any paper shares these days, except maybe there are for some bonds. I’m hardly an expert in the field of finance.”

“Yes, we’ve done that. We know where the orders to sell originated.”

“Okay, may I ask where?”

“Actually, we can’t comment on any details in regard to an ongoing investigation.”

“Well, knowing Margaret O’Neill as I do I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that this is some kind of ruse perpetrated by her or her daughter. They’re evil people. Do you want to speak with Tom?” They did so a minute later he was on the phone with me and then with them as I left the room to use the men’s room. Their conversation was completed when I returned.

“Is there any other way I can assist you,” I asked.

“No…I think we’re done here. Thank you for your cooperation. I would like to know why Mr. O’Neill left the country and why Montenegro?”

“As I said earlier, Margaret O’Neill is an evil demented person. I wouldn’t put it past her to try to either kidnap her husband if he was local or to try to make up some spurious charges against him…like stealing her money, for example, even though he’s the one who earned it and was forced to give it to her because of the device on his genitals. He told me that she initially drugged him while on their honeymoon then shocked and beat him into submission. That’s the same plan they had for me, by the way. I looked into his eyes the first time we met and all I could see was a hollow shell of a man. He’s a decent guy and he deserves better.

“Now he’s going to head up my European office and he’ll make more than enough to live in the same manner or better than what he had here. My technicians--most of them have PhD’s--earned a minimum of $800,000 last year plus benefits. I’m sure you know that there is no extradition treaty with Montenegro at this time. Once we’re sure he’s safe he’ll be free to travel across Europe as needed.”

“Well…thanks again for your time. Okay if we phone you if we have any additional questions?”

“Of course; I’m always happy to help our government.” I rose and we shook hands again.

They were almost out the door when Mr. Connor turned for one additional question. “You really think four million is chicken feed?”

“Yeah, last year we earned almost a hundred million and I had expenses of less than half of that. I gave thirty million to charity and kept the rest. I think my income tax liability was about six million. I believe my investments are around twenty-four million so I really have no need for more even though I’m going to earn much more this year and most years in the future. My business is expanding faster than I can manage. Right now I’m about twenty employees short.”

Connor shook his head then said, “I think I’m in the wrong field.” A few seconds later they were out the door and gone.

I told Sara about the FBI that evening as we ate dinner then had another thought. “Would you like to have Thanksgiving here? We could invite Cara, your mom, and grandmother. I’m sure my folks would come, too. What do you think?”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, but Grandma has moved to Florida to live with her sister. Who would cook? Thanksgiving dinner is a lot of work.”

“I could handle the turkey and most of the rest. I’m sure I can convince my mom to do whatever else is needed. Speaking of which, I think you should meet them.” A minute later I began to laugh. Sara had the most incredulous expression on her face. “Relax, they’ll love you. They even liked Daisy until she tried to enslave and destroy me. I’ll phone them after dinner and see if we can’t get together over the weekend. Okay?” Sara took my hand in hers and looked straight into my soul then she smiled and I couldn’t wait to finish dinner.

Apparently, she couldn’t either. She pulled me from the table and pushed me down to the floor. Her fingers tore at my belt and then my jeans. Her Capri’s were almost ripped from her body and her expensive silk thong actually was. I lay on the rug, motionless as I waited for her to fuck me. And fuck me she did, grinding her clit into my abdomen relentlessly. Her almost bare pussy and my neatly shaved cock and balls glistened with droplets of her nectar. Up and down, forward and back, side to side, and round and round she moved on me. No living man could resist those movements and—for the life of me—I couldn’t think of a single reason why I would want to.

Using my thumb and forefinger I gripped her clit tightly and pulled and twisted. “OH, GOD, OH GOD, OH GOD,” she screamed and I was glad that our nearest neighbor was more than 200 yards away. She came violently, her body shaking and twisting as she completely lost control. Only my hands tight on her hips kept her head from striking the heavy wooden table or one of the chairs. She was still shaking when my balls emptied into her vault. Slick white semen oozed slowly from her cunt as I pulled her down to my chest. My hands gently stroked her head and neck and back until she rose up and asked, “Do you think we should finish dinner?” I laughed and helped her up. We sat naked and dripping onto the seats for the next ten minutes while we ate our cold steak and baked potatoes. We cleaned up quickly, I took the trash to the curb, and we met again in the shower, again taking the time to express our love for each other.

We were lying in bed—naked, as usual—when I decided it was time. “I think we should go shopping tomorrow right after work…maybe even before we finish so we can go into the city.”

“What are you babbling about, John?”

“I’m talking about buying you a ring…a big and really expensive engagement ring. Will you marry me? You’ll make me the happiest man on the planet.”

Sara’s response was to grip my head strongly and pull me into a long tongue-laden kiss. “Your answer is emphatically YES! I’ll be the happiest woman on earth. We’ll be a perfect pair. In fact, I feel that way right now.”

“Good; let’s take the day off. I don’t have anything pressing tomorrow.” Sara agreed. We kissed again and tried to sleep, but we were too excited. Instead, we kissed and stroked each other for an hour before I slipped into her and we made the sweetest most incredible love imaginable. We moved slowly, extending our time together as long as possible. Sara did cum twice before my cock dribbled semen into her. I wrapped my arms around my love, pulling her closely to me as we finally fell asleep.


>>>>>>

Of course, I had forgotten to phone my mom so that was the fourth thing I did the next morning right after telling Sara that I loved her, kissing her deeply, and phoning Cara to tell her I was taking the day off, but not telling her why. My phone call began like this: “Hi, Mom, would you like to come for dinner Saturday or Sunday?” She commented briefly on my cooking skills or lack thereof before inviting me instead. “Okay, Mom—would you mind if I brought someone with me?” I continued a minute or so later with a laugh. “No, Mom—it’s definitely not Daisy. That train has left the station and it’s never returning. I’d tell you more, but I have to run to catch a train into the city. Okay, see you Saturday afternoon around three. Bye, Mom…love you.”

“There you go—you’ll meet my folks around three Saturday afternoon…more than enough time to get over any nervousness.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” I just laughed and pulled Sara from the bed and into the shower. By now we were completely familiar with each other’s bodies, not that we had ever been shy with each other. We washed, rubbing soapy hands over chests and abdomens and over sex organs until we were squeaky clean. Only then did we exit and dry each other with loving tenderness. We dressed quickly so I could get us a cab to the Huntington Station. I knew that finding a place to park would be nearly impossible without a permit. Bottom line—taking a cab was easier and possibly cheaper than a parking ticket.

I bought round trip peak tickets leaving to Manhattan around 9:15 while Sara bought us two coffees at a shop next to the station. We were relaxing on a bench when Sara asked where we would go for her ring. “I could take you to Harry Winston or to Tiffany’s, but we’ll do a lot better in the Diamond District. I’ll save a lot of money there so I’ll be able to buy you some other things, too.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Oh! But if I tell you there won’t be any kind of surprise. What do you think—take a cab from Penn Station or walk? It’ll be about fourteen blocks…the short way.”

“The what? I don’t know anything about Manhattan.”

“Okay. Blocks running north and south are shorter, maybe a third of what they are running east and west. We have to go about fourteen blocks so do you want to walk or shall we take a cab?”

“It’s a beautiful day. Why don’t we walk? Maybe we should take the cab on the way back, you know, to be safe.” I agreed even though her concerns were silly. Walking in Manhattan was probably as safe as walking in our back yard, maybe even safer.

We caught the train and an hour later we stepped out of Penn Station onto 8th Avenue and 33rd Street. I pointed to the right and off we walked. Neither of us had dressed up so it was sneakers on both of our feet—perfect for a leisurely stroll.

We held hands all the way up Eighth until I stopped us at 46th where we crossed the street, continuing west until we reached the doorway I wanted. “Do you know where you’re going…where we’re going?”
“Yes, if it’s okay with you I’d like to use the same jeweler I used with Daisy. He told me the ring’s appraisal would be at least twice what I paid and he was right. Trust is very important in this business.” I pulled the door open and held it for Sara. I took her hand again and led her through what I knew from experience was a maze of vendors.

The Diamond District has several hundred vendors each with one or two showcases, a work area for making or fixing jewelry, and a huge safe probably weighing a ton or more. We had passed maybe thirty such showcases when I saw Sam and his daughter Nadia. Sam was a Russian Jew whose family had left Russia for the United States when the Bolsheviks ousted the Tsar in 1917. As bad as conditions had been under the Tsar his grandfather knew they’d be even worse under the communists. The family worked their way across Europe, relying on other jewelers and diamond merchants for food and shelter—even loans that enabled them for eventually reach New York and Ellis Island where they were granted refugee status.

Diamonds were in his family’s blood. That’s what Sam had told me when we had first met more than a year ago. He smiled warmly when he saw me, just before hugging me fiercely. Stepping back he gave Sara a quick, but confused, glance. “A new one? What happened to the cheerleader?”

“I found out that she and her mother had some evil plans for me so I kicked her to the curb. This is Sara, my secretary’s identical twin sister.”

“You work with a beauty like this and you actually get work done? You gentiles are too much. But, I talk too much. Welcome to my shop, Sara. Please have a seat. What can I do for you, John?”

“I want a ring…an engagement ring first.” Sam took Sara’s hand in his, carefully examining her fingers.

“You have long, slender fingers. I can show you many different kinds and shapes of rings and stones, but you will find that a Marquise-cut solitaire will look best. Sit while I get some samples to show you.” He turned to the safe, sorted through perhaps a dozen trays, returning with six. “Many of them are too small for what I know John wants for you, but just as many are too big for your fingers. Let’s try out a few—different sizes and different shapes, too.” Sam measured Sara’s finger then moved a few trays away. One by one he placed a ring onto Sara’s finger. Some she rejected almost immediately, but exactly as Sam had predicted, she loved the Marquise-cut stones the best. She finally chose a beautiful three carat diamond in a yellow gold setting. I had to agree—it looked great on her finger.

“That is an excellent choice. It has outstanding clarity and it is an excellent setting. See the six prongs holding the stone. You can find many cheaper settings with only four. Trust me…if one breaks your stone will be lost in a heartbeat. I’m glad that John can afford the best for such a beautiful woman as you. Now--what else, John?”

“How about a tennis bracelet and maybe some other rings for her right hand?”

He brought out the bracelets first and I thought that Sara would faint. Here in this tiny shop Sam must have had a million dollars in precious stones—maybe even more. “Let us find a nice bracelet that you like and then we’ll find a matching ring. Don’t worry. I know that John can afford it.” Sara gave me a questioning look so I just nodded before giving her what was probably the only chaste kiss of our relationship.

Sam placed several bracelets on Sara’s wrist—single row of diamonds, double row of diamonds. Two diamond rows around a central line of sapphires, then rubies, then emeralds. To help her decide Sam brought out several trays of cocktail rings, pointing out that the darker stones with the greatest contrast looked best when set against the brilliance of diamonds. Sara must have agreed because she selected a beautiful sapphire ring with a complete circle of diamonds that perfectly matched a bracelet of two rows of fairly large diamonds around a sapphire band. “Ten carats of diamonds on the bracelet with good clarity and three carats of sapphires. The ring is ten carats sapphire with one and a half carats of diamonds.”

“Let’s see some earrings next, Sam.”

Sara selected screw-on posts of fourteen carat gold with round brilliant cut diamonds of one carat each. “That’s enough, John. You’ll spoil me rotten at this rate.”

“Okay, but I think we should buy something for Cara, don’t you agree? Without her we would never have met and, do you think we should get something for your mom?” Sara nodded and we agreed on another set of one carat diamond posts for Cara and an emerald and diamond pendant with matching earrings for their mother.

Sam totaled the bill, asking me, “Cash?”

“Of course, wire transfer just like last time.” He showed me the bill--$238,000, but reduced it to 218, a discount for paying cash. I had my cell out in a flash and was speaking to my banker thirty seconds later. Two minutes after that the funds had been transferred to Sam’s bank—actually just a different account in the same huge New York bank.

Sam brought out suitable boxes for each of the rings, earrings, pendant, and the bracelet. Before leaving he handed Sara another box. “My wedding gift to you. Mazel Tov!” We shook hands, Sara kissed his bearded cheek and we walked back to the street.

“I’m nervous, John. What if someone tries to steal them?”

“Don’t be or act nervous. You’re just a woman who’s been out shopping. You’re carrying a brown paper bag. You could have salami or a dozen bagels in there for all anyone knows.”

“No, John—my salami is in your pants. So far as bagels go someday I’m going to smear cream cheese all over it and then lick it off. Cream cheese and cum—what a delightful combination!”

“Pervert,” I whispered, a huge grin on my face. Sara kissed me, promising me much more once we were home and we began our return to Penn Station. Checking my watch I saw it was almost two in the afternoon so I led Sara on a brief detour to Keens Steakhouse, one of my favorites.

“Time for Linner.”

“What?”

“Linner…you know, ‘dinner for lunch.’ After eating here you’ll be lucky to be able to eat a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner tonight.”

“LInner? Do you plan to do things like this when we have children?”

“Of course, kids love things like lInner.” I led Sara up to the maitre d’ asking him for a table for two. We were dressed neat casual, quite a bit below the usual standard for Keen’s, but slipping the maitre d’ a fifty solved that problem in a hurry.

Keens is one of Manhattan’s finest prime steakhouses, consistently rated in the top ten by virtually every rating company in existence. We were not disappointed, especially when Sara saw the prices. I thought we’d spend $300 on our “Linner,” but that was okay because Sara was going to pay.

“God, John—the prices here are ridiculous.”

“I’m not worried. You’re paying.” Her face showed her initial shock, but then she smiled as she pulled her Tritech MasterCard from her purse. Then she leaned across the table to kiss me. It was just incredible—a kiss to celebrate our impending union, my new official housemate, and probably a dozen other things I couldn’t think of at the moment.

We started with drinks—margaritas on the rocks--followed by the lettuce wedge with real bleu cheese dressing, complete with bacon bits and diced tomato—a bargain at $17.00 each. Then we agreed on the steamed Maine lobster and prime filet, medium rare with a warm red center, accompanied by hand-cut fries. We skipped dessert which Sara promised me once we were home. The meal was exquisite—everything prepared to perfection. I especially loved the lobster—Sara insisted on feeding me every morsel dripping butter sauce. When several nearby diners were overheard commenting Sara silenced them in a second by holding her new engagement ring up for all to see. Their frowns (not that I cared even a little) turned to smiles and even mild applause although that did cause my face to turn the most embarrassing shade of red.

We caught a cab at the door down to Penn Station and ninety minutes later we were back in Huntington. A cab there dropped us at our door twenty minutes later. It had been an incredible day, but it wasn’t over yet. Sara went upstairs to the bedroom while I made sure the house was secure for the night. I found her in front of the mirror over her dresser admiring her new jewelry. “I love them, John, but I love you even more.” Then she stripped the clothes from my body and shucked hers a few seconds later. She led me into the shower where she washed me while rubbing her swollen nipples into my chest and back.

I had done nothing but enjoy Sara’s aggressiveness. It was a side of her that intrigued me. She continued by drying me and leading me to our bed, placing me carefully into the center of our queen bed—big enough if we needed room, but not so big that we’d lose contact with each other.

Once I was in place Sara climbed onto my body, engaging me in the most delightful kiss, although virtually every kiss from my bride-to-be was spectacular. She broke the kiss with a smile. “Now I think it’s time for dessert. I know what I want…salami. How about you?”

“Kitty, I think—one without much fur.”

“Oooh…that’s exactly what I was hoping for,” she said as she pivoted on my chest. Sara was only three inches shorter than me. That was great when we kissed and even better now. Her tasty pussy was just inches from my mouth even as her mouth found my throbbing organ. I reached up with my tongue, dragging it from her clit all the way to her rosebud. I repeated for several minutes using the broad of my tongue until Sara began to actively hump my mouth.

Then I moved into her tunnel, carefully using the rough bottom of my tongue to rub her sensitive G-spot and when she began to shake I switched to her clit, sucking it through a tiny one-eighth of an inch space between my teeth. I gnawed on her bud for almost a minute and Sara was cumming every second.

Now, don’t think that she was ignoring me because she definitely wasn’t. I had never had my cock sucked with such energy and fervor as what Sara was doing to me now. I had learned way back in elementary school that nature abhors a vacuum so when Sara sucked me with force my cock rushed to fill that empty space. I couldn’t ever remember being as long or thick as Sara was making me. She had been shaking in the throes of her orgasm maybe ten seconds when I exploded. Unlike our previous encounters, Sara held the thick semen in her mouth, swirling it on her tongue which she eagerly showed me before swallowing in a single gulp. “I’ve read that it’s wonderful for your skin. Maybe someday I’ll rub it all over my chest. Then my boobs will be even softer than they are now.”

“That won’t be necessary,” I whispered. “I love them just the way they are. They’re perfect for you.” I kissed her then and pulled her to me for a brief nap. We had frozen onion soup for dinner then retired again to make love the entire evening before falling asleep still coupled and in each other’s arms.


>>>>>>

I really shouldn’t have taken the day off even though I loved every second. I had a lot of work to do the following morning. I was desperate for help, but I was unwilling to lower my standards. Once again Professor Eastman came to my rescue. His recruiting efforts had been restricted to universities in the New England area, but he knew and had collegial relationships with professors all around the country. He phoned me around ten that morning to tell me that he had made more than thirty phone calls over the past week.

“Once we had exchanged pleasantries, John, I got down to business, first telling each of my colleagues what we are looking for and then forwarding an email. I was sure to share the earning potential and the vetting process by the Pinkerton’s. I expect to have at least forty resumes on my desk by the end of the week.” I thanked him for his efforts, promising him a raise at year’s end. Then I made a call I had been looking forward to.

“Hi, Tom—how’s Montenegro? More importantly, how are the Montenegrin women?”

(The country is beautiful and the women are even better.)

“That’s great. I’m sending Sergei to you next week. He’s finished in Ohio and, although I could use him in Washington, I need him in Europe even more. He’ll contact the universities there and start the recruiting process immediately.”

(That’s good; any idea where you want our offices to ultimately be?)

“That’s one of the things I want to talk to you about, but remember when we last spoke about funding? Remember the money we spoke about?”

(Of course, how could I forget?)

“I had an idea about rerouting it back almost, but not quite to the source perhaps using the junior agent and the bank you merged with. What do you think? I feel it would free you up from any allegations of wrongdoing. Follow me?”

(I certainly do and I think I’ll recoup any potential losses through my work here.)

“I’ll definitely see to that.”

(Then do it. Any idea how?)
 
“Just leave it to me.” I ended the call and summoned Cara into my office. “What are your plans for Thanksgiving?”

“I was hoping that I could wrangle an invitation somewhere.”

“You have it on the condition that you bring your mother. You don’t have to bring anything else. Just show up sometime in the early afternoon. I’m going to invite my parents Saturday when I introduce them to Sara.”

“Speaking of Sara…I phoned the hospital yesterday and they told me she had taken a sick day.” She grinned broadly as she continued. “Kind of strange that both of you were sick on the same day.”

“I don’t recall telling you anything about being ill, only that I needed the day off.” My shit-eating grin matched hers before I sent her back to work. “Contact a couple of realtors in the suburban DC area specializing in commercial real estate and tell them I am interested in opening a branch near the capital. Close to the Pentagon would be great. I figure we’ll eventually need room for a couple of managers’ offices, a clerical staff of between six and ten and maybe fifty cubicles. You know the rest—same setup we have here. Have them compute the square footage we’ll need. I’m sure they’ve done it before.

“Professor Eastman tells me he’ll have forty or more resumes on his desk by the end of the week. He’ll screen them and hold preliminary phone interviews. He’ll also have them sign releases so Pinkerton’s can screen them. I want to send Chuck and Ali to the DC office as soon as we have it set up so they can handle training and work assignments. I figure the Pentagon alone will take more than a year for initial installs and by then it will almost be time for upgrades.”

“Okay…I’m on it. I’ll phone Mom this morning with your invite. Thanks; I was worried about Thanksgiving. Sara and I don’t really have great memories of the holiday. We never had the money to do it up right while we were growing up.”

I was in the middle of programming the final touches on the latest update when I heard our fax machine roar to life. Cara brought in a stack of applications with a note from Professor Eastman that more were on the way. He also told me that all had signed the vetting consent form. He did call my attention to one application from a University of Chicago graduate student who had volunteered that he had been arrested for petty theft at age 13, but who claimed to be on the up and up since. I found his application and, if he had been honest about his record, he was definitely a possibility. He had an excellent academic record and recommendations from two professors I knew from seminars we had attended together. I knocked off a bit early shortly after Cara had told me that she and her mom would come for Thanksgiving, but would like to invite us to dinner this coming Sunday evening. I thought that would be perfect!


>>>>>>

Sara and I left the house around 2:15 Saturday afternoon, driving first in the wrong direction. Remember how I said the fastest way to Northport was to go past the village and drive back? Well, the opposite was also true—the fastest way out worked the same way.

About fifteen minutes later I pulled onto the Long Island Expressway, also known to locals as the world’s longest parking lot. Traffic during rush hour, actually anytime Monday through Friday morning from 6:00 through 9:00 a.m. could be impossible despite the numerous improvements implemented over the last thirty years. The same was true most weekday afternoons between 3:00 and 7:00. At this time on a Saturday afternoon, traffic was just moderate. We cruised along at more than sixty miles per hour, exiting at the Seaford-Oyster Bay Expressway north into Oyster Bay.

I could drive this route in my sleep and five minutes later I pulled into the driveway of my parents’ modest home. It was part of what had been a huge housing development featuring six different models—two ranches and four colonials. Mom and Dad had one of the smaller ranches. There were only three of us, after all.
Sara’s hand was in mine when I rang the bell. I wasn’t the least surprised when Mom opened the door, expressed her surprise with her eyes and exclaimed, “Cara? I would never have guessed.”

Sara and I looked at each other and laughed while I debated exactly how I was going to explain this. “No, Mom—this is Cara’s sister, Sara.” I moved into the house to hug and kiss my mother with Sara right behind me. She also hugged Mom as we moved in. Dad rose from his favorite chair and greeted us, also showing his surprise. I led Sara to the couch, holding her hand again as I thought of what to say.

“You know how down I was after discovering Daisy’s diabolical plans for me. I went into work early every day and stayed late for almost a month. Then on a Friday afternoon Cara walked into my office around 5:30, locked the door, and climbed into my lap to hold and kiss me. It was one hell of a shock, believe me! It was actually Sara, her older twin, who had changed clothes with Cara a bit earlier in the afternoon. I learned the following day that they had set me up. Cara had told Sara all about me…apparently every day and they thought she would be a good match for me. They also knew that I’d never agree to being fixed up so they plotted against me.” I was grinning wildly as I said that last sentence.

“It goes without saying that we’ve hit it off well.”

“Yes, dear,” Mom interrupted. “It would be impossible to miss that ring on Sara’s finger.”

“What ring?” That was Dad who sometimes was even more obtuse than I had ever been so Sara stood and walked to his recliner, holding the ring for him to see. “Wow! That is some engagement ring. It is an engagement ring, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Mr. Gotti—John asked me earlier in the week. We’ve been living together for several weeks now. I couldn’t be happier.” She returned to the couch and leaned over to kiss my cheek. I turned to her so our lips met. It was sweet, but that was all. Anything more would have to wait until we were home.

We talked for a while until Mom asked Sara if she would help get some drinks and snacks organized in the kitchen. While they were gone I could see that Dad had something he wanted to talk about. I always was able to read him like a book. “What’s up, Dad? How’s work?” Dad was twenty-one years older than I was—a union plumber in nearby Roslyn. It was a skilled position that paid extremely well. Combined with my mother’s salary as an office manager they cleared more than a hundred thousand after taxes. I knew that because I had done their taxes for several years.

Dad began to speak just as we heard roaring laughter coming from the kitchen. “Work is better now, but you know that we took a real beating after the recession of 2008. Your mom and I weren’t able to save much, if anything, for the next four years. I don’t know if we’ll be able to retire at sixty-five the way we planned.”

“Not to worry, Dad—I’ll start accounts for you and Mom on Monday with Vanguard. They have a bunch of good no-load funds. I have an advisor there who will give me good advice, I’m sure. I can give each of you $12,000 a year without tax implications and Sara can do the same once we’re married so that’s what I’ll do unless he comes up with something better and don’t ask me if I can afford it. I can. I just finished a big deal with the Pentagon. I should clear thirty million the first year and about twenty a year after that so—yes—I can afford it. Please don’t worry, Dad, You have eighteen years before you retire. Eighteen times twenty-four thousand is more than four hundred thousand and by the time you add in compounded interest and dividends you should have more than six hundred thousand combined by then and we’ll continue every year during your retirement. I’ll also pay for a big insurance policy for both you and Mom so you won’t have to worry about what might happen if one of you dies. I know for a fact that life insurance has no tax implications. Insurance policies are not considered to be part of one’s estate.”

I had just finished when Sara walked in from the kitchen with a bowl of chips and salsa. “Be careful, John—the salsa is hot. Your mom and I tried it in the kitchen. I’ll be right back with the drinks. Your mom is making a pot roast and I’m helping her.”

“That’s great. I love her pot roast.”

“I’m glad,” she said as she kissed me again before turning away.

Dad followed her with his eyes. “I like her, John. Daisy was drop dead beautiful on the outside, but she was rotten as hell on the inside. Sara is very attractive on the outside even though she’s no Daisy, but her best is inside her…who and what she is. I think you’ll be very happy. Can we expect grandkids in the future?”

“As soon as humanly possible, if I have anything to say about it.” I smiled broadly as Sara reappeared carrying two big glasses filled with PBR—Pabst Blue Ribbon--the beer of my youth and Dad’s favorite, too.
She noticed our huge grins. “What? Oh, I get it, talking about me, were you?”

I rose to take the beer she offered, sweeping her into my arms for a long deep kiss. “Guilty as charged,” I whispered just loud enough for Dad to hear. Sara laughed then kissed my cheek as she walked back out to help Mom. Dad and I spent the afternoon watching college football. Dinner was served at six exactly, following a family tradition that had existed as far back as I could remember.

The pot roast was as delicious as I remembered. So were the mashed potatoes and homemade gravy. In fact, the entire meal was a smashing success. It was clear that my parents loved my fiancée and she loved them, too. We left around nine and were in the car about five minutes when I asked, “What was all that laughing about earlier?”

Sara smiled as she explained. “Your mom guessed that there was a little bit more to how we got together than your explanation so I told her. Once she began to laugh I couldn’t help but join her. It really was funny, you know.”

I reached for Sara’s hand and brought it to my lips. “I’m just glad you got along with my folks.”

“I think your mom is just great. Your dad is a bit more reserved, but he seemed to like me, too.”

“He does. He told me that while you’re obviously very attractive on the outside what you are inside is even better. I agree completely. He also asked if grandkids were in the immediate future. I told him they were if I had anything to say about it. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind? That’s what I’ve been praying for. We can start planning the wedding tomorrow when we see Mom and Cara.” We talked all the way home about what kind of wedding and when. Turns out Sara didn’t care if it was big or small just so long as it was soon. Once again, we agreed completely.

After a long and exhausting night making love we slept in and grabbed a couple of bacon and egg sandwiches on a hard roll from the deli in the village. We sat on a bench in the park that abutted the harbor, coffee on the path between our feet as we ate. Sara was sitting as close as humanly possible; any closer and we’d be arrested for having sex in public. It was an unusually cool day, but fair with a strong breeze so I appreciated the closeness of her body.

She must have read my mind because she paused for a moment to whisper, “Sorry, but that will have to wait until later. I think I’ll shave you again in the shower and, to be fair, I think you should do it to me, too. I’ve always loved the soft smooth texture of where I’ve shaved and I think it will be even better if I’m completely naked there. I’m getting wet just imagining your tongue sliding over me.” Sara may have been getting wet, but all this talk was having an effect on me, too. I had finished eating five minutes before I was able to stand and walk without embarrassment.

We left around 2:00 that afternoon, going in the right direction for a change, south on Sunken Meadow Parkway to the Expressway east to Coram where Sara’s mom had moved after her mother had sold her house. Even though much of Long Island had become thoroughly suburban over the last few decades, Coram remained mostly rural. It was far enough from New York City that few people wanted to commute and there was no nearby rail station. There were many more people living there than twenty years ago, but it was still much fewer than in nearby towns like Selden and Centereach.

Sara gave me directions and forty minutes later I pulled into the drive—barely. The house was tiny with only two bedrooms and a single bathroom and no garage. Cara’s car was right behind what I assumed was her mother’s so I pulled up as closely as possible behind hers. Sara leaned over to kiss me and reminded me not to be nervous. I wasn’t, not at all. I opened the door for Sara then reached into the back seat for the small paper bag with gifts for her mom and sister.

The house was a Cape Cod with the second floor unfinished. We walked straight into the living room with an eat-in kitchen off to the right. Cara greeted us with hugs and kisses and then I met their mom. “Nice to meet you at last, Mrs. Sinclair, although I feel that I know you well through Cara first, and now Sara.” I helped Sara out of her coat and she put her gloves into the pocket. That’s when Cara saw the ring.

“OH. MY. GOD! You did it Sara! John actually proposed! I don’t believe it!” I was quickly forgotten as both women began to examine Sara’s ring and then her bracelet and other jewelry. I put our coats on a chair while they “oohed” and “aahed” over everything.

Finally, Sara’s mother came over to hug me. “I apologize for ignoring you, John. It’s not every day that my daughter becomes engaged. I also feel that I know you very well and…please…call me Natalie. Cara, would you please put the coats in your old bedroom? May I get you something to drink?”

“Thanks, Coke or Pepsi would be great or ginger ale if you don’t have either of them.”

“Pepsi, it is then. Sara, why don’t you help me?” I found myself alone for a minute so I looked around. The room was sparsely furnished and the furnishings were obviously old, but they showed signs of excellent care and the room was as neat and as clean as my house was after the cleaners had spent half the day working and scrubbing. Mostly, I was pleased to see a bookcase filled with books, some of which obviously dated back to when Cara and Sara were still in school. There were more than a dozen of the Nancy Drew series and others geared to young girls. In contrast, the TV was an older model with a cathode ray tube instead of a newer flat screen. Clearly, reading was more important here than wasting time watching the idiot tube.

Sara returned a few minutes later carrying my Pepsi. She sat next to me, holding my hand as I took my first sip. I placed the glass onto a coaster and handed her the paper bag I had carried in. Cara and her mother joined us a few minutes later after inviting me to enjoy some potato chips. I helped myself to a few as Sara spoke. “John and I have a few gifts for you. Well…actually, John has gifts for you.” She reached into the bag, removing a long thin box which she passed to her mother. A small square box followed for Cara.

I took a close look at Natalie while they opened their gifts. I realized then that I was getting a sneak preview of my wife in another twenty-odd years. I had to admit that I enjoyed the view. Natalie was almost as tall as Cara and Sara, and—despite her age—I doubted that her weight was more than twenty pounds heavier than her daughters with most of that in her breasts and ass. If Sara turned out even half as good I’d be more than pleased. Their reactions when the gifts had been opened made the expense worthwhile. Cara ran to a mirror to place the earrings into her lobes and Natalie extolled over her pendant and earrings, telling me repeatedly that emeralds were her birthstone. I saw nothing but love in Sara’s eyes when I gazed her way and I knew in that second that I was in for an incredible time that night.

We talked for more than an hour, first about the wedding. I was mostly quiet then, leaving the discussion to Sara. Eventually, the discussion turned to work exactly as I had anticipated. “Cara tells me you’re an excellent secretary, Natalie.”

“I’d like to think so, John. I’ve been at it for more than twenty-five years. There have been some changes, especially recently with the advent of computers and word processing, but I’ve taken courses to stay current with technology.”

“Natalie, I have two questions I’d like to ask you. You might think the first is somewhat impertinent, but I think the second will explain why I asked it. Do you mind if I ask how much you earn?” I could see if not shock on their faces, certainly surprise, until Natalie decided to answer.

“That is a bit impertinent, John, but to answer—I earn a bit over thirty-eight a year.”

“Thank you; now for my second question: do you think you could work for your daughter? My business is expanding rapidly—sometimes I think too rapidly—and I can see that Cara is being stretched too thin. I plan to promote her to office manager and give her a big raise then hire two additional secretaries and at least one account clerk to handle accounts payable and receivable as well as payroll. Cara will continue to be my personal secretary. The other two will take care of the technicians. I’d pay you fifty and I plan to pay Cara eighty.”

Natalie sat quietly for several minutes and I could see her thinking. Cara was simply astounded. Finally, Natalie spoke, “What about benefits and when would you want me to start?”

“You’d get the same benefits as everyone else—fully paid medical and dental and $250,000 group life. You’ll also get four weeks paid vacation plus holidays. I’d like you to start as soon as possible, but I understand that you’d probably want to go through the holidays with your current firm so early January would be okay.”

“John, where are you going to put everyone? We barely have space now.”

“I’ve spoken to the building owner and he’s agreed to move the accountants on our floor downstairs to the vacant suite on the second floor. We’ll have some alterations, but by February first I anticipate that all of the techs will be across the hall. Cara, you’ll have your own office as will the top accounts person. The two secretaries will have the open space outside my office, although we’ll install a small sitting and waiting area just inside the door. We don’t have much foot traffic, but it pays to be prepared. I’ve been meeting with the landlord mostly during your lunch hours. You would have found out about the plans this week because we have some architects coming in to meet with us on Tuesday morning. So, Natalie, what do you think?”
 
“I think I’ll resign tomorrow morning. I have a new boss and he’s a smarmy bastard. He’s been making all kinds of lewd and suggestive comments for more than a month even though I’ve said ‘no’ every time. I like the others in the office, but I can’t stand him and I can’t wait to get away from him.” I stood and we shook hands on it. That was as good as a signed contract in my book. Even better, Sara gripped my head and kissed me fiercely, swapping spit for several minutes before Cara walked over to hand us some napkins. I was so embarrassed, but the women just laughed so I joined them a moment later. Then I had a thought.

“Natalie, I understand that you want to get away from this….”

“Jerk? Asshole? Prick? Take your choice.”

“Well…I was wondering if you’d like some revenge. I have this lawyer who’s a real shark. How about I call him in the morning and arrange for him to take you to lunch?”

“Is this going to be a date?”

“It’ll be whatever you want it to be. But, I’m thinking there must be some way to trap him, maybe tape him, especially if he threatens you. Then if Sheldon sued him and the company you might get a couple of bucks for your trouble.

“I think you’ll like Sheldon. He’s got a great sense of humor except when he’s in court. Then he’s super aggressive. The worst that can happen is you’ll go to work a few days longer than you planned.”

Natalie and her daughters sat quietly for several minutes before a wry smile came to her face followed by a low chuckle. “I’d love to get some revenge on this bastard.”

“Okay, tell me about him. Is he related to the big boss? Is he married? Does he talk down his wife in front of the employees? Over the next ten minutes Natalie gave me every gory detail of this bastard’s harassment. I was sure when she finished that she’d love what Sheldon could do for her.

I really enjoyed dinner—homemade lasagna and garlic bread, for which Natalie apologized repeatedly. “Don’t worry, Mom—that won’t stop either one of us.” And then to prove her point she leaned over for another wonderful kiss.

We left around eight, pleading an early start in the morning. We were just walking out the door when Natalie reminded me. “Don’t forget to phone the lawyer in the morning.”

Cara laughed as she told her mother, “Mom, don’t worry. John never forgets anything.” She and Natalie waved as I backed the car into the road. Traffic was light all the way home. Sara leaned across the console, her head resting against my arm all the way.

We were only in the house a few seconds when Sara asked me, her voice barely a whisper, “John, can I go off the pill. I want your baby so badly.”

“You know that’s what I want, too. Why don’t you flush them down the toilet tonight?”

“John,” she continued, her voice still subdued. “Can we get married soon? Nobody in my family is religious and I hate the idea of all the stress of a big wedding—the dress, the flowers, the reception, and all the rest. I just want your mom and dad, my mom and Cara, and us unless you have some relatives you want to invite.”

I pulled her into my arms. “I do want to invite my aunt and uncle; they’re my godparents and are very close to my parents. I can’t wait for you to become my wife, but I won’t be able to get away for a honeymoon for a few months.”

She giggled. “I’m having my honeymoon now.”

“Not quite; you’re still working. You could quit, you know. Everything I have is yours.”

“You know I don’t care about that. I’ve never had much money and I’ve managed quite well, but I’m glad you’re giving Cara a raise. I’m not sure she can afford the apartment on just her salary.”

I hadn’t thought about that. I was just about to distribute bonuses for the year and I’d take care of Cara first. I kissed my beautiful almost-bride and led her upstairs where we stripped each other slowly, savoring the sensation of our touches—her hands on me and mine on her, her wet cunt on my thigh and my rock-hard erection pressing into her abdomen. “Enough, John; let’s take our shower and get into bed where I can show you how much I appreciate and love you.”

She walked in front of me, giving me the opportunity to pinch her butt cheeks as she walked. “Fresh!” She was laughing when she continued. “You are such a pervert. Next thing you’ll be telling me you want to stick your cock in there.”

“Ummm…I would. I already told you that I did it with Daisy and we both loved it, but you have an incredible pussy. It’s soft and smooth and fantastically tight. I can’t imagine anything better. Then there’s your mouth. If you told me I could never fuck you again I’d be more than satisfied with your mouth for the rest of my life.”

Sara kissed me then as she turned the shower on. Holding the kiss she opened her drawer in the vanity, maneuvered me to the toilet so I could lift the seat. She finally broke the kiss so she could one-by-one drop her birth control pills into the bowl. I don’t usually find the toilet bowl terribly appealing, but this was a sight I doubted could be duplicated.

We leaned forward together, our hands on the lever, and, moving as one, flushed those pills away. Then I swept her into my arms again to tell her yet again, “I love you so much…more than life itself. I am so thrilled to have you for my own and I promise that I will love and cherish you forever.” She melded with my body as we kissed again, our tongues wrestling back and forth until she broke it to lead me into the shower.


>>>>>>

Our shower was even longer and more loving than usual knowing that we were committed not only to marrying, but to creating a new human being to love. I knew my parents would be thrilled when we gave them the news. We made love for hours that night. Okay, I’m not Superman so we rested a lot in between, but overall we did spend four hours that night engaged in the hottest and sweetest sex of my life.

First thing Monday morning I was on the phone to Sheldon Mayer. I explained everything and I could hear his teeth gnashing in anticipation of playing the shark. It was a role he relished and doing it for a hot sensual woman just made it all the better. He agreed to forward a photo to Natalie along with an invitation to lunch. His message was brief—will have everything you need for your friend. Pick you up at noon. Shelly.”

I gave Cara instructions about those I wanted to interview and told her I’d be back in an hour or so. My tablet and I were off to Starbuck’s for a cup of fresh fruit and their free internet. I knew that the National Security Agency routinely monitored phone calls, especially those between the U.S. and Europe, thus my coded conversation with Tom O’Neill. My plan was to move the money we had stolen from Switzerland to the bank his prior employer had merged with in Canada. Initially, I was going to get into Daisy’s internet address through her g-mail account. I’ve already told you that she was no Einstein so you won’t be surprised to learn that she never bothered to change her passwords.

However, as I thought about executing my plan I came to realize that she was as much a victim of her mother’s perverse thinking as Tom was. She even told me back in college that she thought her parents’ relationship was normal. After some thought I decided that I would leave her alone. Margaret, however, was going to suffer.

Once I was seated at an outside table (back to the wall, naturally) I entered Margaret’s ISP’s website and hacked entrance to the system. Using Margaret’s desktop address I transferred the funds from the Swiss bank to one in Quebec using Margaret O’Neill’s maiden name--Casey. The address and much of the other information I used to establish the account were false. It would take a while—maybe as much as a week—for the Canadian authorities to track down Margaret’s information and then the FBI would be all over her like stink on shit. At the least she would be charged with money laundering--illegally moving money out of the country--income tax evasion, wire fraud, mail fraud, and a few more that would be described in the very interesting front page article on next Wednesday’s edition of the New York Times. The Canadian and U.S. authorities were even more efficient than I had hoped. I sent Tom a fax of the article. I was sure he would enjoy it.

The whole episode only took me forty minutes. I returned to the office around 10:30 to find another twenty resumes on my desk. I leafed through them over the next hour and returned them to Cara for handling. All applicants who passed our initial screenings would be invited at company expense to interview with me. Those would likely take place the week after Thanksgiving. I spent the rest of the morning setting up bonuses for my staff.

Salaries were direct deposited into each employee’s bank account. That was much more efficient and also safer considering all of the time they spent on the road. Bonuses, however, I gave in the form of a check. That made the accounting much easier. First on my list was Cara Sinclair--$50,000 would have been the norm, but for my future sister-in-law I gave her $75,000. Next were my senior technicians--$1, 200,000 and the junior tech’s--$800,000 each. I gave Tom O’Neill $500,000, as much to compensate him for the loss of his wife’s savings as for the work he’d done to establish my European office. Finally, I wrote a memo raising Cara’s salary to $80,000, effective immediately. That was to satisfy the auditors. I’d done a good day’s work and it wasn’t even noon.


>>>>>>

I spent the rest of the week managing my growing empire during the day and making incredible love to my wonderful fiancée at night. We spoke several times about our wedding and we set it for the Saturday two weeks after Thanksgiving. Meanwhile, Sara and my mom had spoken several times to coordinate our holiday feast. While this was going on I took the time to phone my buddy Rob. He was still at the university, but now as a lecturer, moving hopefully up the steep path to becoming a full professor with coveted tenure. He greeted me warmly even though we hadn’t spoken much since graduation. (John…I can’t believe it. How are you?)

“I’m doing extremely well. How are the coeds? I hope you’re not still chasing their skirts.”

(No, you know that’s frowned on. There are a few young instructors here and at nearby universities so I do have a life outside class and teaching. How is your business doing?)

“Let me put it this way—if I retired today I’d have enough money to live extremely comfortably for the rest of my life. We’re growing like crazy. I now have twenty-three employees and I plan to add another fifty within the next two months. I just closed a huge contract with the Department of Defense and I’m opening an office in Europe by the beginning of the year. But the reason I called is to ask if you could be my best man on Saturday, December 9th.”

(So you’re finally going to make Daisy an honest woman.)

“No…actually I kicked Daisy out about five months ago. I’m going to marry my secretary’s twin sister.” I spent the next ten minutes telling about Daisy’s duplicitous plan and how I learned about it. Rob laughed like crazy when I described how I was driving Miss Daisy in her asshole boss’s car. He wasn’t all that surprised. Rob knew how capable I could be. I finished the conversation by telling him about the wedding. “It’s just going to be a small civil wedding so any kind of suit will be fine. Bring one of your intellectual squeezes. I can put you up in my house.”

(What about the honeymoon? Where are you going?)

“No idea yet. Sara understands that I’m too busy to take time off now, but I promised her we would go before next summer. We’ll have to go by then because we’re working on a baby. Sara wants a big family and she wants it now. She never asks for anything for herself so I have a hard time denying her.” Rob laughed about how badly I was already whipped. I agreed with a laugh and we rung off. “Yeah,” I thought, “better pussy whipped than the real thing. I had imagined being whipped by Daisy and her mother several times and I had always cringed. I had been really lucky, but sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good.

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