A Fucking Investment Ch. 13

I woke the next morning to a suitcase banging down the stairs. I got up, grabbed a robe and caught Jennifer as she arrived at the ground floor. She was going "home" for a few days as instructed. I told her I'd call if I needed anything. I went back to bed and slept like the dead for another eight hours.

After dark, the technicians arrived, parking in two open spaces in the garage. I closed the garage door to hide their presence from the neighborhood, timing it so they just drove into it and disappeared. I hoped no one would notice.

I packed a bag and drove to a hotel. I had no wish to be around while they did their business. I finally remembered to call Crowley and ask if he knew someone who would know someone to give Jake Masters my vitae. He chuckled, always delighted when strait-laced Alan needed his more unsavory talents. He told me he thought he could take care of it. Then he told me something curious.

He had checked John Sawyer's business and yes, he had closed it and yes, it seemed that it was about three months early. Either we missed our cash projections or he had retained a pot of cash we had not counted on. It was a short term solution in any case and that did not worry me.

The last thing Crowley told me though seemed utterly confusing. They had put about twenty grand into a surveillance system into their house, just recently. Crowley agreed with me, it made no sense at all. They were within spitting distance of defaulting on the mortgage, why would they invest in a security system? They had it put in while I was laid up. It made no sense.

I puzzled over that for the next couple days while I worked in the hotel and they worked at the house. I got a call from Jennifer asking if I was at home. I said I was and she accepted that, said she saw odd lights in the house. I said I was trying something new. She seemed to accept that.

By Wednesday, the system was up and running. I could check the cameras on my phone. Only one was hooked up but it was fantastic. I could see the workers in my living room. Crowley had ordered painting trucks and they repainted several parts of the house, changing the brighter yellow and white to a darker blue that I really liked. I liked the cooler house, not the star-burst version Sharon apparently liked.

I spent the time tracking Sharon's progress but it was not good. I knew things were getting dicey and there may not be any good solution. I was betting millions on her ability to manage it. Sometimes the best you could hope for was to not make things worse and this was one of those times. I needed to know how she responded to this sort of situation. Could she accept the losses and just live to fight again another day?

Despite the fact she was my older sister, I was tutoring and training her and this was a trial by fire. I was depending on my people to keep her out of trouble so it was a spot check on their grasp of the situation as well.

Tuesday Crowley told me the crews were done and packing up. I decided to stay another night. They left the windows open to air out the house. It would be obvious to Jennifer I had had much of the house repainted but I hoped the cameras would not be equally obvious. I had no idea what to expect but even I could not find the cameras. One of our tech gurus got on the phone and talked me through how to call into the system on the Internet and showed me how to switch through the cameras. There were twenty-nine of them.

I called Jennifer and asked her to "come home" and she squeaked and did. She seemed excited.

"I had no idea you were planning to paint!" She squealed when she arrived inside the door. Redecorating always seems to energize a woman. We carried her stuff up to her room and got her settled. It had been painted as well.

I remained uneasy around her. John called and wanted to have lunch. I was happy for the distraction, gave cash to Jennifer to change accessories in the house and left to have lunch. I intentionally left her alone in the house. This time John met me in a bistro, a large place. The after-lunch lull left us stranded in a booth far away from the entrance. After we sat down, John got right down to business.

"So, Mr. Gale. Have you given our, my proposal any thought?"

"Why isn't Eve here?" I asked. I had given it thought, a lot of thought. I had not arrived at any conclusion.

"She is a distraction. You'd, you'd focus on her and not on the issues at hand. It defeats our purpose, hers and mine, to wean you off the idea that you have to have sex with her."

I nodded. "I can understand that, I guess. She is an incredible woman." I expected John to agree vehemently with that but he just took a drink of water.

"I have not been completely straight with you." He said.

I smiled vaguely. "No one ever is, when it comes to negotiating for pussy." I started out trying to be funny but realized I had spoken plain truth, which is often much less humorous flitting off the lips then it is in your head.

"I want to make you understand. I, I need to tell you a story."

I nodded. We'd ordered, I was hungry. My stomach growled and I almost suggested he wait till after the food came but rejected the idea. He seemed nervous, jittery. Best let him get to it, I decided.

"Mr. Gale, can I call you Josh?"

"Of course. Josh is fine."

"You represent a lot of money to us and we both know that. I, we, I have been trying to figure out how to be a man, to not hand my wife over to you to solve our financial problems. I don't think it is strange for a man to wish to avoid having his wife fuck to get them out of a spot, right? I am not being stupid, I mean?"

"You want me tell you that you are being noble?" I shrugged. "I think we are past that. You, you are after all entertaining the idea, the whole concept of using Eve to fuck for money to get you out of your hole. I am not sure that is noble, no matter how hard you negotiate."

John's eyes bored into mine and for a moment I felt like he wasn't seeing me. He wasn't.

When his eyes focused, he asked a peculiar question. "I bet you are wondering how Eve and I ended up together." It sounded like a statement.

I shook my head. "You are a handsome man, gentle and smart, capable as far as I can tell and caught on a petard that is not wholly your own. This financial crisis, it as fucked up a lot of people, worse than you."

John smiled and for a moment, I could see the sadness in him, the stress and something else. After a naked moment, I named what I saw and it was appreciation.

"You are too kind. Everyone knows that I don't belong with Eve. That is why every man who ever meets her looks at me as an unwanted complication. No one looks at me and sees a man they should respect because I own Eve. No, I am her husband and she owns me. It has always been that way."

I stopped him then and I shouldn't have. He might have told me the whole story but I did. "You two seem very comfortable together. She seems to adore you and she went to a lot of discomfort to avoid having you fuck Swallow."

"Shallow. Yes, but, well, let me tell you this story, about how we met. I was a scholarship student, and by that I mean I was a hardship student. My parents and sister were all killed in car accident when I was seventeen, after I had been accepted to Listingale College. They called it Lustingale because, went the rumor, they did not let virgins graduate.

"Anyway, I was two years ahead of her and the other Little Lords. That was the name of her group of women, girls at the time, the Little Lords. They came together from very different backgrounds, but were all filthy rich. They congealed into a group of girls who, for four years resolved to fuck ever male on the campus, including professors, husbands of professors, staff, and even the gay guys. They claimed to have completed the cycle by March every year.

"They had little rituals they went through to decide who had to do the undesirables. The loser had to fuck him. I was one of those undesirables. Eve joined the group as the lone legitimate model on campus and when she got the assignment to fuck me, she did. I, I fell in love with her. She dismissed me like I was nothing.

"Instead of getting angry, I got even." John hesitated and looked away for a moment, gathering his reserves I thought. I could tell this was something he did not relish disclosing.

"There was something she did not know about me. When, when she seduced me, she had no idea who or what I was. She, she came over to me while I was working in the cafeteria busing tables and spilled a cup of scalding coffee on my arm. She acted all horrified and insisted on taking me to her clinic in town, where she got her IUD or whatever, and drove me down there in her Lexus. I'd never been in one before. I shopped at Good Will for clothing. One of the standing jokes was for the bluebloods to saunter over and look at the back of my shirt and snicker that yep, that was his shirt and could he have it back, he wanted to donate it again.

"Anyway, I was like an untouchable, you know, like the lowest caste in India?"

I nodded.

"I worked three different jobs with the administration including B&G and by that time I had master keys for nearly every door on campus." He patted the air. "I need to go back now. Back to when I was a freshman. I was in shock and I had a roommate who was a horror. He acted like he was omni-sexual and offered to 'do me' right. Once he touched me while I was sleeping and I couldn't sleep there any more. I realized later he didn't mean any harm. He couldn't get it up with girls but wasn't really gay, he was just scared of the vagina." John smiled wanly.

"I was not much better. My boss with B&G understood my difficulty and got me keys so I could find various places around campus to sleep in peace or study. I was not really shy, just in shock from losing my family that summer before I arrived. And I was young. Then Tito got fired and there I was with the master keys for the whole campus. As part of the aid package, they had arranged for me to work the summer before I started, well, it was part pity because the house, my house got repossessed and I had no place to live. So they hired me on a modified student work program and let me live on campus. They felt sorry for me and I was in deep shock. I just did what people told me to do.

"By the time the regular students arrived, I knew a lot about the place. They'd see me in class and order me to empty the trash. I was too shattered to fight back for about the first two months. They hazed me all the time, like they were picking on a helpless mutt. Some of them called me Mutt a lot."

I tried not to look bored. His whining bothered me but I realized because I recognized the mentality he described, the superior, asshole mentality I had avoided, precisely because I was shy but I had seen what he described plenty as one of those moneyed elite. I hated them too but I had little wish to hear him whine about it. I was one of them, despite my contempt for the behavior he described. People like to blame the money but assholes are assholes regardless of net worth.

John continued. "It was one of the times they were being particularly brutal and they pushed me over and dumped out the trash I was hauling. Tito used to protect me but the new guy, Guido or something, he said the student should be with the students. They tortured everyone, not just me.

"This time, one young woman came over and helped me up and helped me clean up. She never said a word but her very presence seemed to intimidate them. She was fucking gorgeous and as it turned out, twisted up but nice. She, she had a smell about her I could not believe. It made me hard and I was bent over the whole time so I did not show her my wood.

"I wasn't a virgin exactly, I knew where everything was kept and where it all fit, but I wasn't exactly experienced. Just her presence drove me crazy. Of course, after that, she never acknowledged me again. Turned out she was having a spat with her boyfriend, one of the guys bothering me, and she just wanted to piss him off.

"Before I found that out though, I resolved to show her my appreciation. She was the first student who had been kind to me since I arrived and it freaked me out a little. I wanted to show I had a little class. I presumed she wore perfume because her scent haunted me. I'd wake up from sex dreams smelling it. I had saved a little money and decided I'd figure out what she wore and buy her a little bottle, just so show her I had class, too. That was what everyone referred to at Listingale, class. I wanted to show I had some, despite my humble circumstances.

"However, figuring out such a thing is harder than it sounds. I tried all the usual approaches and got eyed in high class salons that sold perfumes. Finally, I got desperate and talked myself into going to her room. It was a Saturday night, the football team was playing and we had a good team that year, everyone was talking bowl game and the like. She, she was dating a linebacker on the team and so was at the games to cheer him on and shit. The dorm...let me tell you about the dorms at this place. There were dorms and then there were the 'dorms' for the elite. They had been completely redecorated and renovated with single occupant suits and privates baths, paid for by parents. It became the tradition for girls to live there who were from the upper crust.

"Anyway, I had keys to their rooms. I slipped in, looking for the perfume. I found it and it was a grand a bottle, smallest possible. When I discovered that I had to change my plans. That night, though, I searched carefully through her things trying to find the perfume. It was like a department store in there. I did, finally, but before I found it, I found her diary, her hand written diary stuffed under her undies."

He grinned. "Don't ask why I was looking in her panty drawer and I won't have to lie to you. I opened the notebook up and flipped idly through it but then I saw the words 'he fucked me' and I decided to read more closely. I have an eidetic memory and an high IQ, why I got into Listingale in the first place. I went back and flipped through the book from the beginning.

"The thing was chock full of accounts of her sexual activities retold in loving detail. At first I was sure it was all just lies, fantasies, but then she began to talk about her dream, her wish, her hopeful fantasy. You'll never guess what this girl, the cream of the country's crop, what she wanted! She wanted to be raped. She use that word. She wrote lovingly about being forced to have sex, about a guy slipping into her room and fucking her silly. She mocked the linebacker for his poor sexual prowess, fucked him again, she wrote. No better this time. He comes seconds after I get astride him and then he's done for a couple hours. Even when I wait, he still comes quick. The prick never even tries to avoid it so I could get going but he is oblivious.' She went on for pages about his inadequacies as a man and as a lover.

"I felt a little bad for him but he was a dick and one time spit into my coke just to see what I'd do. I did nothing and he called me a pussy. Revenge can be so very sweet. Anyway, she had periodic entries going back two years where she imagined being raped. She always ended it with a little plea to be satisfied by surprise.

"I left her room with this new idea, two ideas. She wanted to have sex with a stranger and she wanted to be raped in her room. Not real rape but, what would you call it? Wanting a stranger to have sex with you in your room? She called it rape, she talked about saying 'no, no, no' the whole time she was being fucked and coming like a house."

John seemed a little disturbed, like the thought of it bothered him. It certainly bothered me. Willing participation always seemed by far the best, but I am rich and I do know that money makes some women wet or hot or willing; perhaps all three. Without money, a guy needs something else to excite a woman.

"I, I was horrified by what I was thinking. Well, aroused and fearful because, well, it seemed like something I could do and I got so aroused, you know, by the thought of satisfying a woman's most private fantasy." Suddenly John looked positively horrified, like he just became aware he was talking out loud or something.

"My god, did I even tell you her name? I didn't did I?"

I shook my head. I thought he was protecting the innocent but apparently he had no interest in that either. I was completely clueless as to what he was about. Still, I was fascinated. It seemed a good story.

"Her name was Maya. She was blond, beautiful and stacked. Despite my ultimate choice, I love a nice rack on a woman. Eve, she knows and says she does too, just to make me feel at ease." He groaned. "I know. Too long. I'll get to the point but you, you need to understand that what I offer you is, well, it is real and valuable, for what you are doing and more to the point, why you are doing it. I don't buy for a minute that you are doing it just for the money."

I had a momentary thrill, thinking I had been caught out but it passed with his next words.

"It, I know its for the pussy. Who can blame you. Twenty-four houses and twenty women that could be models on the catwalk or strippers down with Mrs. Lewis. It, it really is incredible and I am, I respect your for noticing and making the plan to buy that much pussy. It really is ingenuous if only you'd let Eve escape unfucked." He grunted and waved a hand at me.

"I know. I'll get on with it. Eve says I do go on sometimes. So, I left Maya's suite that night certain that she wanted to be fucked, raped in her own room, at night. Of course the next two weeks I spent having second thoughts but each time, I'd find time to get into her room and reread the diary to see that it said what I thought it said. That may seem strange, given my memory but the truth was I liked how her room smelled, so I kept going back. Creepy I know but I was in a bad place.

"I think if that was the only thing that happened, I'd have been fine but the first week of November, Maya and her linebacker friend, I just called him Igor and I honestly have forgotten his real name, they had a big fight. It was public, with her throwing food at him in the cafeteria. A boiled egg I think because he was at breakfast with another girl and Maya was sure he boffed the other girl. It was a mess. Maya was a mess.

"This went on till Thanksgiving and everyone left campus but me and some of the other charity cases. I went to her room and found she had written two weeks of entries, extending fantasies about having sex with a stranger in her room, about being bound and fucked. Two weeks, every night. She swore off men and boyfriends and all that jazz. I was too dumb and full of cum to realize she was venting. I determined to give her what she wanted.

"I put a big eye bolt in the underside of the book case over the foot of her bed. Then I got together a little kit and realized I needed to rehearse. I got nervous. That was when I started ransacking the other rooms of beautiful or sexy girls looking for diaries. That four days of Thanksgiving break, I bet I read sixty diaries and you know what? At least a dozen of them had similar ideas, sex fantasies about being fucked in the night. So, after four days of nothing but female fantasies of being fucked blindfolded, I resolved to do it.

"When everyone came back to campus, I figured it would be the best time and I did. At two in the morning I crept into her room and, and I did her. I had handcuffs, with an easy release, a gag and I did her. She was sleeping and I slipped into the room, I'd oiled hinges and locks all over campus so nothing squeaked. I gagged her, cuffed her and fucked her.

"Now, I had told myself that I would not do anything if her pussy was dry, you know, if she was desert scared. This only worked for me if it was really her fantasy and when it happened, she'd get into it. She did. God, she did. I think she came four or five times that first time, her legs bent up over her head. I decided next time to hook her feet so I could just fuck her. She talked about being a 'hole' just a 'hole' she said. She thrashed and squealed into the gag. I even turned her around and did her from behind and she still bucked like she was climaxing. It was incredible.