Authors: Jennifer Smith
“Pregnant?” her mother asked. “What do you mean pregnant?”
“Mother, you do remember what pregnant means. It’s how Ian and I
arrived in the world!”
“But you and Oscar have only been married two years.”
Sylvia took a sip from her water glass and set it down. “Yes, we’ve been
married two years and have decided to start a family.”
“Mother, this is wonderful news,” Ian sai
d. “You’re going to be a…”
She slapped at him. “Yes I know what
I’m going to be! A gr-a gr-- oh, I
can’t even say it!”
Ian burst into laughter. “So that’s the problem, becoming a grandmother?”
“Hush! Don’t you dare say that too loudly!”
“Oh, Mother, please!” Sylvia said, shaking her head. “You’re fifty-two
years old!”
“Shh! Everybody in the place doesn’t need to know!”
“Like it or not, Mother.” Ian patted her hand. “It is a fact, and it’s also a
fact that Sylvia is going to be a mother, I’m going to be an uncle, and you’re
going to be a grandmother. Deal with it!”
“Really, Catherine,” Helen said. “When Julie and Kevin first told me they
were having a baby, I couldn’t believe it either. My baby having a baby, but now
that Jason is nearly two, I couldn’t be happier. I love being a grandmother and so
will you.”
“Mother, please be happy,” Sylvia pleaded. “I can’t do this without you. I
don’t know how to raise a child or be a mother. I’m so scared I’ll do something
stupid, like drop him on his head or diaper the wrong end!”
“Oh, darling, of course I’m happy for you,” Catherine said. “I just wasn’t
expecting this. When is the baby due? And what did Oscar say?”
“Oscar was thrilled, of course, and I’m due in October.”
“October. October? That’s only five months away! Sylvia Anne, how could
you keep this a secret for so long? I only have five months to get everything
ready. There’s a baby shower to plan, and you give me five months!”
“Mother, calm down, I’m sure you can handle it,” Ian said, chuckling.
“Of course I can handle it, but Helen, I’ll need your help.”
“Of course you will. At least Julie gave me nearly seven months’ notice.”
“Waiter,” Ian summoned. “Bring me a bourbon. Straight up.”
“I’ll take one too,” David said.
“A Cosmopolitan,” Gillian said.
“Just bring me the biggest stack of pancakes you’ve got,” Sylvia said.
“And you, ma’am?” the man said to Helen, but received no response as
she and Catherine chattered.
“Just ignore them,” David said. “You won’t get them to shut up long
enough to order anything.”
“Very well, sir,” the waiter replied and left the table.
“So, Gillian,” Ian said with a smile. “Bet you’re glad you came on this
trip!”
A short laugh left her lips. “I am, actually. I haven’t had time off in about
five years, so I was relieved when Sylvia invited me.”
“How long are you staying, little sister?”
“A week. I can’t leave Oscar alone any longer than that. No telling what
the house will look like when I get back. I envision take-out cartons and pizza
boxes strewn across the floors with boxer shorts and dirty socks!”
“I’m sure he’s not that bad,” Ian said as the waiter brought their drinks
and food.
“Why not? You are.”
“Hey, I’m single!”
“Some excuse,” Sylvia said, digging into her stack of pancakes.
“And do you have a husband destroying your house with pizza and dirty
socks, too?” Ian asked Gillian with a grin.
“Oh no.” Gillian shook her head and held up her left hand. “No wedding
band for me.”
“I keep trying to get her married off to one of Oscar’s friends, but one date
is all she’ll go on with any of them. That is when she’s in town and not off saving
the world of commerce.”
“Yes, you’re quite the matchmaker,
Syl, but I told you it won’t work on
me. I have no plans to get married anytime in the foreseeable future.”
“You sound just like Ian,” Sylvia replied through another mouthful of
pancakes.
“Don’t even think it, sister!” Ian warned.
“Think what?” Sylvia asked innocently.
“You know what, so don’t even.”
Gillian looked from brother to sister and back again. “Oh no, Sylvia. You
promised me before we left Boulder there would be no matchmaking between
me and your brother, or anyone else while we’re here!”
“Aww, you two are no fun,” Sylvia said with a smirk and took another bite.
~ * ~
“So how did we wind up alone in my car?” Ian asked, starting the engine.
Gillian laughed. “You sister won’t give up.”
“I know. I was so relieved when she moved to Colorado. I thought she’d
introduce me to every single woman in the Midwest while trying to marry me
off.”
“She does the same thing to me. I’m almost afraid to call her when I get in
from a business trip! Married people just aren’t happy unless everyone around
them is married too!”
“Don’t kid yourself. Sylvia has been matchmaking since she was twelve
years old! I was seventeen then and she brought home every girl in her class. She
was so disappointed when I didn’t show an interest in twelve and thirteen year
old girls. And it just got worse as she got older. Don’t tell her, but I did
everything I could to convince Oscar that he wanted to marry her.”
“You didn’t?”
“I did. They’d been dating for a couple of years already, but it didn’t seem
as if he’d ever pop the question, so I just kinda nudged him in that direction. Six
months later, Mom was booking the church and planning the reception.”
“So you’re a matchmaker, too.”
“Hell, no. I just wanted my sister off my back!”
They both laughed.
“So, you’re here for a week and then back to Colorado?” he asked.
“No. Actually, I’m here with your sister for a week before I go to Tulsa for a
few days. Then to Dallas, and then I’m off to Tokyo.”
“So you’ll be saving the United States first, then the world?”
Gillian laughed. “It’s not quite as exciting as Sylvia thinks. I simply go to
different companies and show them how to improve management-employee
relationships in order to increase production and become more time efficient, cut
losses with time management, and reduce the number of employees who call in
sick, come in late, go home early, that type of stuff.”
“And just how do you do that?”
“It’s not really difficult. A lot of it is simple things like job sharing, the
fourday
workweek, in-house daycare, working from home, and generally making the
environment more employee-friendly. I’ve even implemented a doggie-friendly
office in a few places.”
“Doggie-friendly?”
“Yes. A lot of people, like us, choose not to marry and have children, but
they do have pets. Pets left alone can sometimes be destructive, and people are
attached to their pets just like they would be to a child. Pets and their owners get
stressed out when they’re apart so a pet-friendly business saves a lot of money
by reducing absences the same way an in-house daycare does.”
“That’s, um, great. I guess.”
“You think it’s nuts,” Gillian said, tilting her head.
Ian grinned. “Yes, yes I do.”
Ian kicked off his shoes as he entered his apartment, shrugged off the jacket
and tie he’d been wearing, and tossed them carelessly onto the sofa. In his
bedroom, he stripped off the rest of the garments and sat naked on the bed.
Pulling out his Palm Pilot, he scrolled down to the list of appointments. Dinner at
six with a seventy-eight year old lady named Esther Jones. He and Esther had
had many dates in the past and he actually enjoyed her company. She called him
for any social occasion that required an escort, and he often wound up flying to
Dallas, San Francisco or New York with her. The one thing she never required
was sex, and Ian considered dates with her paid vacations. However, tonight
was simply a black-tie dinner benefiting one cause or another, so he’d have her
home by nine with no problem.
The next appointment was with a new client he’d yet to meet. He didn’t
really like new clients, preferred to stick with what he already knew. He’d have
to talk with Bridget tomorrow about that. Bridget was his secretary, and he her
anonymous employer. She took the calls at her home, scheduled the
appointments and forwarded them via the Internet. His bank made a wire
transfer from his account to hers twice monthly and the arrangement had
worked well for nearly ten years. His only contact with her was either through email
or a phone call.
Stepping into the shower, Ian relaxed as the massaging showerhead beat
down on his neck and shoulders. He closed his eyes and thought about his night,
then washed his hair and scrubbed his body. After toweling off, he walked
naked into the closet and selected an Armani suit for the dinner with Esther.
Standing in front of the mirror, he appraised his body. At thirty-one years
old, he could easily pass for twenty-five. Working out a few times a week kept
him in good shape. Staring at his reflection, he didn’t quite see what everyone
else apparently did, or at least what women saw.
At six-feet-three-inches and one hundred eighty pounds, his body fat had
been calculated at less than five percent. His dark hair and blue eyes seemed to
be his best features, or at least that’s what everyone seemed to notice first. Those
attributes were genetic, not dependent upon anything he did or didn’t do.
Perhaps the body fat percentage, but even that he hadn’t worked toward; it
was just the way it was. He looked like his father, who looked like his father, who
had come to America as an Irish immigrant shortly before the depression. He’d
learned to capitalize on those genetic blessings at a very early age.
During his senior year of high school, a not-quite-eighteen-year-old Ian
had taken a job at his father’s office as a gopher. He ran errands, swept up at
night, and earned a hundred dollars a week. On one of his errands fate
intervened when he’d delivered a packet of legal papers to a very wealthy
widow. Of course, all his father’s law clients were wealthy, and the man only
accepted those able to pay the exorbitant fees up front. Joseph James had a very
successful law firm right up until the day he dropped dead from a massive
coronary in the conference room. The partners cashed out Joseph’s ownership to
Catherine James, who became even wealthier as a widow than she’d been as a
wife. The only stipulation was that the firm retain Joseph’s name since he’d been
the founding partner.
The day Ian delivered the legal packet to Mrs. Charles Winthrop, III, his
life changed forever. In fact, it altered the course of his life. Ian had always
thought he’d go to law school, become a lawyer at his father’s firm, and someday
take his father’s place. But life doesn’t always go as planned as Ian found out. At
twenty-one years of age, Judy Winthrop married Charles, a ripe fifty-six years
old. His daughter, Tracie had been twenty-two when the marriage took place,
and father and daughter never spoke to one another again.
Two years later, Judy Winthrop became a widow when she and Charles
were skydiving in Rio. Charles’ parachute malfunctioned and he plummeted to
his death. Joseph James was hired by Mrs. Winthrop to handle the lawsuit
brought by Tracie Winthrop contesting Mr. Winthrop’s will. When all had been
said and done, Tracie had a tidy sum to last her the rest of her life, but Judy
inherited nearly fifty million dollars.
Ian clearly remembered the first time he met Judy. On that day, he’d
pushed the buzzer at the gate and announced his arrival to the butler. When the
gate opened, Ian drove his car up the long drive and parked in front of the
mansion Judy had also inherited. He lifted the doorknocker, let it fall once, and
the butler opened it immediately.
“I’ll take those for you,” the man said.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I have to give them to Mrs. Winthrop personally. She
must sign for them,” Ian explained.
“Please follow me,” the butler said and led him to a sitting room with large
windows overlooking the gardens. “Mrs. Winthrop will be with you shortly.”
Ian stood with his hands behind his back looking out the window at the
roses and various other well-tended flowers. He looked around the room. The
furnishings were expensive and tasteful, obviously placed by an interior
decorator. Ian was used to expensive taste, and decorators coming and going, but
what startled him was the lady of the house.
“Are you from the law firm?” she asked.
Ian spun around and his mouth dropped open. Mrs. Winthrop didn’t look
much older than him and a see-through pink baby doll nightie hugged her
curvaceous form. Her breasts were firm, the nipples puckered against the
material tied in a bow by a simple string. Her belly was bare and she wore a
matching pair of thong underwear that covered nothing at all. He could see right
through the little swatch of lace to pubic hair that had been perfectly waxed into
the shape of a small heart. Her long legs extended forever, right down to her bare
feet with painted toenails that matched her fingernails—hot pink.
“You brought me something to sign?” she asked, smiling. Then she stuck a
finger in her mouth, pulled on the gum she’d been chewing, and twirled it
around her finger. Sucking the gum from her finger back into her mouth, she
asked, “Can’t you talk?”
Ian felt his cheeks and ears grow hot and stammered out an answer. “I, um,
that is, my father, um.” He took a deep breath and swallowed as he looked back
toward the window. “That is, my father sent these over for you. There’s a paper
you need to sign on top.”
“Okay,” she said, taking the packet from him. “You want something to
drink? You look kinda flushed there, cutie pie. Come with me, I’ve got a Coke or
a root beer or something in the kitchen.”
Ian followed her like a puppy following a little kid.
“Here you go,” she said and handed him a can of Coke. “Have a seat right
there and I’ll sign this paper for you.”
Ian nodded and sat down while Judy slid the papers from the packet. She
flipped through them, but he could tell she wasn’t reading them.
“Well, I guess your father knows what he’s doing. No reason to take up my
time with this.” She pulled the top page apart from the others and signed it
without reading it either. “There you go, cutie pie,” she said, handing the page to
him.
“Thank you,” Ian muttered, stood, and walked toward the kitchen door.
“Before you go, how would you like to earn a little money?”
Ian stopped and turned toward her. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she said on a laugh, “how would you like to make a little
money, say five hundred dollars?”
“What do I have to do for it?”
“Suspicious, aren’t we?”
“Not even my dad pays me that much and he makes me work my butt off
for what he
does
pay me.”
Judy walked toward him. “Come with me,” she said, taking his hand. She
led him through the sitting room and back to the foyer to the winding staircase.
“Let’s go upstairs where we’ll be more comfortable.”
Ian swallowed hard. “Upstairs?”
“Don’t be afraid, cutie pie, I won’t bite,” she said with a laugh. “That is,
unless you want me to.”
“Uh, I, uh…
” Ian stammered.
“Come on, cutie pie, I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“No, it’s just that, well …”
“Hush now,” she whispered. “This is gonna be fun. I promise.”
She stopped in front of a set of double doors, pushed them open, and led
him inside. Ian looked around at all the marble—floors, walls, and Jacuzzi—a
Jacuzzi that could hold at least twelve people.
“Go ahead,” Judy said. “Get in. I’ll be right back.”
“But I don’t have any trunks.”
She threw back her head and laughed. “You don’t need any, cutie pie.”
Pushing a button on the wall, the water in the Jacuzzi came to life. And then she
slipped into the hallway, closing the door behind her.
Ian looked around, unsure of whether to strip and get into the water or run
like he was being chased by demons from hell. Being a young, red-blooded male,
he finally stripped and jumped into the water. After a few moments, he relaxed.
The water felt nice, the jets even nicer, and he shut his eyes, allowing his body to
go limp and float in the tub. He didn’t hear the door open, nor did he hear Judy
as she slipped in beside him. What he heard was his own yelp of surprise when
Judy’s hand wrapped around his cock.
“Just relax,” she said softly, and continued to stroke him.
“I, uh, it’s . . . I should be going,” Ian stuttered.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Judy replied. She ducked her head beneath the
roiling water and took the head of Ian’s dick into her mouth. When she surfaced
with a smile, Ian’s mouth dropped open.
“I know this is your first time,” she said. “Relax and enjoy it.”
Ian followed her to the Jacuzzi’s steps and sat on one at the top, the one
Judy patted with her hand. Kneeling two steps below him, she placed a hand on
each of his knees and pushed his legs apart. Settling between them, Judy flicked
her tongue over the head of his cock, slid it down the full length and sucked a
ball into her mouth before moving on to the other. She licked back up the length
of his cock and sucked the head into her mouth while twirling her tongue
around the tip. Then she swallowed him whole.
Ian gasped. He’d never been in this position before, even though he’d lied
about it to his friends. Fleetingly, he wondered if they’d all lied as well, but soon
he thought of nothing at all but the feel of her mouth on his cock. For the life of
him, he couldn’t focus, he could only follow the sensations from Judy’s mouth
and moan in pure pleasure. In less than two minutes, he shot his wad into her
mouth.
He looked away, embarrassed by his lack of control. “I’m—”
“Don’t worry about it.” She smiled up at him and licked her lips. “That’s
the desired result.”
She stood and climbed the stairs past him, and he got his first look at his
first real naked woman. All the others he’d seen in magazines.
“Come with me,” she said, and he jumped to his feet and followed her.
Judy led him into her bedroom, a large room with a giant canopied bed in
the middle of the floor. The French doors at the end of the room opened to a
large veranda overlooking a swimming pool below.