A New Dawn Ch. 06

"Careful!" said Three-Piece. The girl slowed down, but wrapped her arms around me.

"Johnny, you're okay," she said. I felt her hot tears on my chest and I wrapped her arms around her.

"The jury is still out on that, but I'm alive," I said. I looked up at the people in the room. "I'm sorry, but I have no idea who any of you are, and I'm sorry that I wandered down here without getting dressed."

The girl's hands dropped to my ass, and Cyndi chuckled.

"Laura," she said.

"Okay," the girl said. She wiped the tears from her face and backed away from me.

"This is the quintessential Johnny Rand," the blonde said. "Naked, gorgeous, and shot." She stood up and walked over to me. I kept one eye on the young guy she'd been sitting with. She traced the wound on my head, then placed her hand softly on the bandage on my chest.

"Hello, Hero," she said, and brushed her lips against mine. "My name is Tina," she said. Then she walked back and sat down and held hands with the guy.

I pulled a chair from the table and sat down. "I'm afraid you all have me at a disadvantage," I said. "I'm just starting to get used to this household. Can you start by telling me who you are and why you're here?"

For the next half hour or so I got a crash course in who Johnny Rand was, what he'd done in the past, and what he was doing now.

"So I'm rich?" I said.

"And getting richer every day," Richard Morrison said. "Although I've taken a strong cash position lately. I'm seeing signs of a major correction..."

I held up my hand, and he stopped.

"And I work for the chief of police of the LAPD?"

"Not exactly," Jen Magellas said. "You're in business for yourself. Sometimes the chief might throw you a case to work, a case that the police and the DA and the courts can't handle. But he hasn't yet."

Everyone had introduced themselves except the shaggy older man.

"Who might you be?" I said.

"I'm the Saturday guy," he said.

"What?"

"We share your women," he said, taking a toothpick to his teeth. "I get them on Saturdays."

I stared at him. His lips were quivering like he was holding in a laugh. Georgia punched him on the arm, hard, and he lost it and started laughing.

"Geez, Meyer," I heard from behind me. I turned around. Dawn was leaning up against the doorframe in all her nude glory, smiling at him.

"Hey, you can't blame a guy for trying," Meyer said. He stood up and walked around the table towards me. I reflexively went into some sort of guard position which came from I don't know where, and he stopped short.

"Johnny, he's your best friend," Mary Beth said. "He's family. He's just fucking with you."

I looked at her, and she looked back at me. I relaxed. Meyer came forward and knelt down beside me. He put his hand on my shoulder.

"You gave us a scare, kid," he said. "It's good to see you up and around. You might want to put some clothes on, though, because nobody needs to see that shit."

"Fuckin' A," said Buddy Magellas.

"Do the ladies get a vote, too?" said Jen.

It was too much. I pushed back from the table. "I feel dizzy," I said. I tried to stand up and I heard people move their chairs and move towards me but the roaring drowned that out and then the darkness came and I never felt my head hit the floor.

When I woke up, there was a slightly chubby dark-skinned woman sitting on the bed next to me with a stethoscope pressed against my chest. She was wearing blue jeans and a tank top that said "Gay Pride". She smiled at me. I knew her.

"How do you feel?" she said.

I thought about that.

"I remember," I said. "I remember everything. I even remember how it felt not to remember." I paused. "You're the doctor from the hospital. I didn't know doctors made house calls anymore."

She smiled again. "I'm being paid handsomely for it," she said. "But I think I would have done it for free for you, after what you did." She stood up.

"You're going to be fine," she said. "Your chest wound is healing nicely, and your head wound was just a scratch - although the shock to your brain stole your memories for a while. But if you're past that, you have no worries. Just be sure to finish the antibiotics we gave you."

"Thanks," I said. She smiled again and walked out.

Dawn came in immediately. She was dressed in a white sleeveless top and a short yellow skirt.

"That skirt really makes your tan pop, I said."

She looked at me. "Johnny?"

I held my arms out to her. "I'm back," I said.

She ran to me.

---

Five days later. I was well taken care of and healing nicely and shouldn't have had a care in the world. And yet...

Those times when you simply can't fall asleep are kind of like the times that you're icky sick: they make you realize how you've been taking good sleep or general wellness for granted. The first day that you're well again, you can literally taste the air and the possibilities of life dangle brightly before you. The second day you're well, you're back to taking it all for granted.

I was lying naked on the smaller living room sofa. I idly looked at the glass of rye whiskey in my hand and admitted to myself that it likely wasn't going to put me to sleep. I'd tried the whiskey, reading a book, stretching and meditating... all for naught. It was pushing 3:00 AM and I was both awesomely tired and awesomely wide awake. My chest was throbbing a little, but not enough to take a pain med. Luckily, I had little that I was obligated to do tomorrow. Later today, I corrected myself.

Weird thoughts were running loose in the back of my head. I'd been living for nearly a year with three women: my blonde teenaged niece and soulmate Dawn, my best friend and lover Mary Beth, and my tiny little Afro-Asian beauty Jay. We were incredibly happy and shared ourselves with each other every day, bringing each other as much pleasure as possible. We were rich beyond my wildest dreams and beyond my ability to decide what to do with the money. We had good and trusted friends. I had a noble purpose in life, enforcing justice at the behest of the chief of police of Los Angeles. Life was full and rewarding.

I had survived yet another encounter with lead projectiles. My faculties were intact. I was loved. And yet it was pushing 3:00 AM and I couldn't sleep. I guess I was being introspective, examining memories that just this morning had been beyond my grasp.

I searched my mind for the problem. Mary Beth and I had lived as neighbors for years and had become good friends, and maybe more than that, but her avowed lesbianism had kept me from attempting to take our relationship any further. Until Dawn had come back into my life, that is. I had been pretty heavily involved in my niece's life for years, essentially helping my brother to raise her, and had watched her transform from a loving girl into a beautiful young woman. Although I had lusted after her, and later had admitted to myself that I was actually in love with her, I had maintained the role of the friendly, loving uncle - even though I had to help her through some intimate situations that her father either couldn't bring himself to handle, or wasn't available to handle.

Her father had been a money launderer for a major drug cartel. His violent death brought Dawn and I together, first as supportive family, then as lovers. Shortly after that, Mary Beth became our lover as well. Then shortly after that, Jay joined us in our bed. We'd all been living together as a loving family for nearly a year now. It was pretty much the best fantasy a 32 year-old guy could have, right?

Right?

"Johnny."

I looked up. A very nude Dawn walked around from behind the sofa and stood in front of me. For the thousandth time I marveled at how perfect her little teenage body was. I knew how every part of her body felt and how I felt inside her when we were making love. Yet all I wanted to do now was feel my hands on her body again.

"What are you doing up? Come to bed, baby." She held out her hand for me.

"I tried that," I said. "Didn't work. Something's keeping me awake."

"What?"

"I don't know. I can't latch onto it. Something."

"Come to bed and I'll help you fall asleep," Dawn said, and I took her hand and stood up and followed her to the bedroom. We laid down in the huge bed next to Jay and Mary Beth who were both happily residing in dreamland. Dawn pulled my hands onto her breasts and pushed her butt back into my crotch and we spooned like the lovers we were. I gently squeezed her boobs and she moaned softly and happily.

"Go to sleep, Johnny," she said, nestling back further into me. "Go to sleep, baby."

Lost in her body and her warmth and her love for me, I was out like a light within moments.

---

"Johnny, wake up," Dawn whispered.

"What?" I said.

"The power's out and I want to go to the gym but I can't open the garage door."

I stupidly looked across Jay's and Mary Beth's sleeping bodies at the alarm clock, which of course was blank. "What time is it?"

"6:30."

Wow, way past the time I usually woke up. Retirement was making me soft. Or maybe it was the fact I'd only been asleep for three hours or so. Or maybe the it was the chest wound.

"Alright," I said. "Lemme pee. I'll meet you down there."

Instead Dawn followed me into the bathroom and held my cock while I peed. I remembered that she had wanted to do this last night but I had banished her from the bathroom, and I felt bad about that. She had decided that this was great sport ever since she'd seen our neighbor Cyndi Morrison doing it to me. She made lazy figure eights in the bowl until I was done, then lovingly squeezed out the last drops and shook me off and flushed. By the time she was done with me I was hard. We didn't always fool around when that happened because there are other things in life, and because we knew we'd always be able to find time for each other later.

We walked downstairs and into the garage and while Dawn got into her BMW 3-series convertible I unlatched the garage door opener, grabbed the bottom of the door, and lifted - wincing a little at the pain in my chest. The door rolled up smoothly and I held it for Dawn as she started to back up but then hit the brakes. I looked to the street. Two women in light workout clothes were standing in the sidewalk in the middle of our driveway, mouths open, staring at me.

"Oh, my," the older one said.

"Morning," I said.

"Morning," they said.

"I didn't think anyone would be out at this hour," I said.

"He's harmless, I swear," Dawn said over her shoulder. "The power is out."

"We know," said the older woman.

"You certainly know how to get a girl's heart started in the morning," said the younger woman. "Thanks for not putting anything on."

"This is my usual state around here and it didn't really occur to me," I said. I looked down at myself. I was still about half hard. "I'm sorry if I've offended you."

"We'll let it go this time," the older woman said. "Umm... if the power's still out tomorrow, what time will you be opening the garage door? We'll time our walk accordingly."

Dawn laughed. The ladies waved goodbye and walked away. Dawn waved goodbye to me too as she backed out into the street. I carefully lowered the garage door, then paused to look at the cars.

We had too many of them. There kind of had to be at least one for each of us and we also needed the occasional special-purpose vehicle. Our lot had plenty of unused land and I'd paid a contractor to expand the garage to accommodate eight automobiles. With Dawn's car gone there were still four in the garage: my Crown Vic, which I refused to get rid of; Mary Beth's VW Beetle; Jay's BMW SUV; and my latest toy and daily driver, a black Cadillac CTS-V sedan. It had come stock with 556 horsepower but I'd immediately tossed the powertrain warranty and shipped it to Lingenfelter for tuning and they'd gotten it up to something over 800 rear wheel horsepower and a ton of torque. Then I'd taken it to a body shop friend and now it also had an easy-to-access hidden compartment that held a small armory. I had concealed carry permits courtesy of the LAPD chief of police and the heads of various Southern California law enforcement agencies that he held sway with. So did Buddy and Meyer and Jen and Georgia.

Realistically I could be driving anything at this point. I had a stupid amount of money between the competent investing that Richard Morrison had done with the cash that Dawn had given me a year ago and the "Stupidly Aggressive Tactical Action Fund" that I had told Morrison to go crazy with and which he had very quickly somehow turned into close to three hundred million dollars. Which was now the operating fund for Rand and Associates. Which I owned.

Dawn, Mary Beth, and I had had a serious money talk with Jay. It had taken a while but we had beaten down her resistance and the result was us giving her enough money that she'd never have to work another day in her life. So she sold her limo but bought an SUV because she still enjoyed driving us all around. It had a cooler in the back that could store champagne for the passengers the way her limo had. Strictly illegal in this type of vehicle, of course, and I was worried that one day we all might get caught at it, but we hadn't so far. It probably helped that we drank it out of coffee travel mugs. I had given up my Barefoot Bubbly and we now stocked somewhat more expensive champagne. Not the most expensive stuff out there, though: we'd learned through experimentation that there was really no direct link between price and quality, and that some of the stuff the experts extolled the virtues of simply wasn't to our liking. We settled on the varieties that we liked the best and paid the price required to have them. The learning process was fun.

I could be driving a Bugatti Veyron, I thought, and tried to picture it. Couldn't see it. I had grown up poor, at least in the beginning, and hadn't gotten used to being a bazillionaire yet. I probably never would. At least not in that way. There was just so much money, and it came so quickly, that it didn't seem real to me yet. The CTS-V was the nicest thing I'd ever owned other than this Malibu house, which I really just had part ownership of along with Dawn and Mary Beth, and now Jay. I might think about leasing a different car every once in a while, though; the business could absorb the cost and there were tax advantages. I had my eye on the Jaguar F-Type R. But part of me rebelled against driving a car that I couldn't get all three of my women into.

I showered and dressed and kissed Mary Beth and Jay as they slept. I walked the short distance to Richard Morrison's house and let myself in and turned off the alarm. He and Cyndi and their daughter Laura were on a junket to Disney World and I'd agreed to keep an eye on their house. Today my idea of keeping an eye on their house involved taking my clothes back off and grabbing a beach towel and hitting the pool. My doctor probably would have disapproved my being in the water, but I was slathering on the triple antibiotic goo on a regular basis and taking the oral antibiotics and figured I was mostly immune to invasion. I swam laps until I thought I had probably burned off as many calories as I would have had I done my usual morning workout, then pushed myself out of the pool and dried off and spread out my towel on a lounger and lay down and dived into the latest Jessie Stone novel and let the early morning sun go to work on my body.

I wasn't sure how long I'd been laying there when I heard a gasp from behind the screen door. I sat up. There were two attractive women standing there looking at me. One held a carrier filled with cleaning supplies.

"Should we call the police?" the young one said.

I barely stopped myself from saying "I am the police." Because I wasn't anymore. Instead I said, "Good morning. And I'm sorry."

"Who are you?" the older one said.

"My name is John Rand," I said. "I'm housesitting for Richard and Cyndi." I paused. "Who managed to not tell me that they have a maid service."

"Do you have any proof?" the older one said.

I thought about it. "Absolutely none," I said. "Except that I was able to turn off the alarm."

She thought about that. Then: "What's their daughter's name?"

Pretty smart. "Laura."

"What does he do for a living?"

"Investment fund manager."

"Where are they now?"

"Disney World."

She thought for a minute. "Okay," she said. "I'm still going to call Richard to confirm, but for now I trust you. I'm Christine and this is my daughter Melanie. We're going to be here cleaning for the next few hours."

"I'll put something on," I said.

"No, you just enjoy the sun. And we'll enjoy your butt." And they walked away to get started cleaning.

This was quickly turning into John Rand Shows His Goodies To Everyone Day. I'm a nudist, which is normally not at all sexual, but I readily admit that being naked in and of itself can easily turn sexual, and also admit that I get a thrill when women get a thrill out of seeing my nude body. I don't try to make it happen but when you're naked a lot it happens kind of naturally, like today. More recently I'd also discovered that I like to have sex while other women watch. Given my living arrangements over the last year it actually felt strange now to have sex when there weren't at least a couple of other women involved. So if the maids were okay with seeing me naked, I was too. I settled down with my book.

It was maybe an hour later when Christine came through the back door, sat down on the lounger next to me, lit a cigarette, and stared at my cock. As always, the attention made it start to get hard.

"Smoke break," she said.

"You should give those up," I said.

"I've never heard that one before," she said, and took another drag. "They're the only things that keep me sane," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"This job," she said. "My life. My husband divorced me. We didn't have money. He doesn't pay alimony. I don't have any real skills and this job is the best I could do and it pays shit. The company I work for takes most of the money and pays us an hourly wage." She took another drag on her cigarette and blew it out slowly. "The Morrisons are good people," she said. "But every week we come here and I get to compare how they live to how we live. It's hard, you know, to need the job that reinforces how the decisions in your life have all been stupid ones."

She crushed her cigarette and stood up. "Sorry to unload on you," she said. "I'm gonna get back to work now."

"Wait," I said. "Sit down, please."

She looked at me for a moment and then sat down.

"Can I borrow your phone?"

She looked at me some more, then reached into her pocket and handed over her cell phone. I looked at the display and pressed redial. It rang, then Richard Morrison's voice came on the line.

"Hi Christine," he said. "Did Rand try to molest you girls after all?"

"No, he didn't," I said. "But that doesn't mean he isn't thinking about it."

"Hi Johnny," he said. "How are things at the homestead?"

"Copacetic," I said. "I have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"How happy are you with your maid service?"

Christine's eyebrows shot up.

"Happy as all get-out," he said. "They always show up on time. The house is in impeccable shape when they leave. Nothing's ever broken or missing. And, umm..."

"What?" I said.

"Ah... well, we once managed to leave some embarrassing... items... out in the open in our bedroom on the day they came. That information never became public and they never talked with us about it. And... they cleaned them."

"Good deal," I said. "How's Florida?"

"We're having a blast," he said. "We ditched Disney World, though, and we've spent the last two days at Universal Studios. Better rides. What? Hang on, Johnny."

A pause, then: "Hello lover boy," Cyndi said. "Are you naked?"