Jack’s stomach rumbled hungrily as he stopped the convertible outside the kitchen door and hit the up button for the hood. He’d skipped lunch. And now he faced the empty house alone for the first time.
It had been his first day back at work since the funeral and now this: the empty house. Several people had wanted to take him out for lunch but he’d been in no mood to talk about the inevitable so had skipped lunch.
Silly boy she would have said.
He sighed, climbed out and locked the door. Remembering his attaché case he unlocked the car to retrieve it and standing on the porch squared his shoulders and opened the door.
Jack was met by something beyond his wildest dreams. His sister-in-law Peg was waiting for him, smiling, completely nude. Her tits had a permissible level of droop for her age, there was a stomach roll and the thighs were thick and the legs a little too short. Nevertheless it was a glorious sight. For twenty years he’d thought about the bodies of his two sisters-in-law.
Peg held out a hand and pulled him inside. As he closed the door she dropped to her knees, unzipped him and found him ready to be licked and mouthed.
Her Mona Lisa-like smile made his heart cry.
No way would Gloria have wanted this to happen. But she wasn’t here, was she?
For a moment Jack almost pulled away but then thought he wanted this. So he pushed forward and ran a hand through Peg’s brunette hair, not that there was much to run through because she wore it cropped. His dick felt like coming home as her mouth closed over it, ever so delicately. Peg was the quiet sister so he’d expect delicacy from her.
Eventually Peg’s compassionate gesture neared the close, or so he thought. She felt him super-heat and thicken and popping him from her mouth streamed his production over her tits.
He really liked seeing her coat her chest like that. It seemed incongruous though, what with Gloria buried with surgical scars on her cancerous chest. He shook his head and that image evaporated thank god.
Amazingly Peg wasn’t finished. She rose and led him into the family room and lay back on the sofa, legs apart, smiling, and said, “Fuck me darling.”
This was so unlike Peg. Almost always she was so proper. He was also unable to understand how she could think this would be beneficial for him.
She didn’t shave; in fact she didn’t even trim. But no problem. The easy aim was at the moist center patch and he slid into her smoothly and felt her clamp around him. It was almost funny to think that he’d always regarded Peg as an unlikely fuck…she’d be too small, too tight and therefore complaining.
But she was great, a sheath made exactly for his cock. Well he had read several times that the vagina was designed to shape to fit but he recalled during his college days he’d come across several that appeared overly small and inflexible. Perhaps the increased activity at college stretched them into maturity?
Peg was kissing his face and cooing as he drove into her, quite the perfect fuck. He hoped he wouldn’t be expected to hit this pace throughout the night. Then she gazed at him big-eyed and convulsed several times, groaned and smiled at him hugely, that very action unleashing him into a series of huge ejaculations.
He hadn’t come quite like that in years.
“I love your huge boner up me, filling me like this. It makes me feel so complete.”
“You deserve it, being so hospitable,” Jack grinned and for the first time kissed her fully on the mouth and tongued her. She responded passionately.
When they eased back she said, “Come let’s share a bath while having a drink. Everything is ready. Then I’ll have dinner and then must go.”
“No more fucks?” Jack asked rather premeditating what the answer would be.
She stroked his face. “No more, ever. This was my compassionate gift to you Jack. I’ve always thought you were such a lovely man and I love you, though as a sister.”
They kissed circumspectly as Peg was about to enter the cab. She had refused Jack’s offer to drive her.
That night in bed, ready for sleep, Jack suddenly realized the legacy of Peg’s gift. He was thinking about her and sex instead of Gloria and her cold grave.
He wept. He wasn’t sure why. He still felt the grief deeply but perhaps not as deeply up to the point of arriving home that evening Wasn’t Peg a real honey?
Peg’s sexy younger sister Marin called him at work next day and invited him around for dinner.
“I’ll be home alone. Roger will have taken the kids to Albion to an outdoor concert.”
He said that would be lovely and was told to drop around as soon as he finished work.
Marin was beautiful and bubbled, a real personality. She didn’t greet him nude but wore a housecoat and as far as Jack could make out wore nothing else except scuffs. And when she sat and the opening folded back exposing thigh she made no attempt to pull it closed. So another fuck loomed if he wanted it.
After two drinks they fucked, Marin taking the bonus veren siteler lead. She came over and sat beside him, kissed him and unzipped him. And when she had him out and fully erect she asked sweetly, “Would you care to fuck me Jack?”
Well it would be impolite to refuse, not that he was that sort of guy. So he smiled and said yes.
Marin hitched up her gown and sat on him, facing away and rode him for almost an hour of weary repetition until they were both red-faced and sweating and came almost simultaneously. Sexy it wasn’t. At one stage Jack thought it was akin to pushing into a sack of flour.
Without excusing herself Marin went off and showered and then was busy in the kitchen until she called him into the dining room. She’d left Jack to clean himself up and hadn’t offered him another drink.
Conversation over dinner was friendly and warm but Jack had the feeling this was all about Marin feeling she had to do her duty.
He left early, giving her a chaste kiss good night and all she said was, “You’re welcome,” when he thanked her again for her hospitality.
In bed he thought about the woman he’d always considered as the unsexy sister, Peg. Being with her had been a wondrous, uplifting experience. She loved him, in a sisterly way. He now thought Marin didn’t even like him.
Jack had two married daughters and the youngest Gayle came over to stay with him that first weekend alone. She was the best of the two to have so soon because Elaine was the emotional one. Gayle talked calmly about her mother as if she were out in the garden. For instance, “What do you and mom usually do at weekends?” She used present tense.
“Potter Saturday and the mall for shopping and lunch Sunday.”
“Is that what you’d like to do with me or do you want change?”
“The mall for lunch Sunday is okay but tomorrow could we go to the CBD and visit galleries and lunch at the museum. I liked doing that but Gloria preferred to stay home and potter.”
“Yes of course. Now about sex… is there another woman in your life?”
“No, just friends.”
Gayle held out her glass for another Martini. “You are surrounded by women at your business.”
“But… well what about your PA?”
“What about her?”
“God you’re thick… can you have sex with her?”
“But you can still have sex with her. I have sex with other men, usually at parties.”
“Of course I do. Don’t all married women?”
“I wouldn’t think so.”
“Wrong dad. You are rather out of touch. May I sleep with you tonight?”
“If you want to. Your old bed might be more comfortable.”
When they settled down in bed Gayle thrust something into Jack’s hand.
“What’s this for?”
“I’d like you to fuck me dad, but in the ass. Bill is trying to get me pregnant.”
Gayle had to spend quite some time tuning Jack into her wavelength and after they had worked up a bit of passion and he was slowly inching it in he said, “I never thought I would be fucking my own daughter.”
“Technically I think it has to be up the front to be really called fucking dad but it’s a great substitute. For years I thought about you being up my ass.”
At that Jack almost lost his boner but Gayle was on to him and massaged his balls.
Gayle groaned and yelled and used the foulest of language and she obviously loved it and that perked up Jack, washing away most of his guilt. They had a great weekend together, actually the best they’d ever had and they went at it eight times. But the real bonus of having Gayle sleep with him was she hugged him for much of the night.
After lunch Jack phoned Elaine and put her on speaker phone. With pleasantries over Jack said, “Girls, you know your mother left everything to me and her car went back because it was leased by the company?”
“Yes but that’s okay,” Elaine said. “Gayle and I are to split her personal possessions. We’d like to do that next weekend dad and suggest you go away fishing.”
“Ah yes, good idea. Take anything you wish that you consider joint property, I won’t mind but please leave me that oil painting of your mother.”
Gayle said, “We had already decided to do that dad.”
“Thank you. I am talking to you both now to advise something your mother and I discussed during her final days. We want to give you each $750,000 now while you’re young and can enjoy it rather than wait until I pass on.”
The two girls screamed in delight. Elaine laughed and suggested he top it up to a million each and Gayle kissed him and said, “Oh thank you daddy, that really is a great deal of money.”
Next day at his home fencing business, Jack focused on his PA’s tits as she entered his office. Usually he looked at her hair. Pamela Ross appeared to thrust out her breasts. Jack hurriedly looked away and Pamela said, “It’s okay Jack, look at them as much as you wish. Are you lonely?”
“Um, I don’t think so.”
“Well let’s have a wee chat when you think you are?”
He bedava bahis nodded, confused, but even so thinking he knew what that was about. God, Gayle must be right: all married women did it with other men, strangers passing in the night so to speak. Or perhaps they weren’t all strangers but included fathers, grandfathers, brothers, brothers-in-law and the lawnmower guy?
Jack asked Pamela to book him a suite at Huntingham Lodge that weekend, arriving in time for dinner and leaving after lunch Sunday.
Pamela said, “I don’t fish but I must stay there and start. Would you teach me to fly fish?”
Jack visualized Pamela clothed only to the waist casting and he standing behind and feeding into her through the split tail of her hunting jacket and she pushing back on to him and saying that was lovely and meaty. But that would involve contemptuous disregard of the art of fly-fishing.
“Perhaps one day and your husband too.”
She looked at him with a lip slightly curled.
Jack didn’t want her to feel rejected and so he added, “Or perhaps one of those naughty weekends?”
The lips assembled into a fat smile.
Jack had stayed at the lodge at least twice a year for twenty years so was known to the establishment. He was greeted extra kindly and by the soft look in the eyes of the women staff he knew they knew. Pamela would have told them.
The imposing Scottish guide and tutor Fiona Donald came up to the table under the veranda where he was having coffee. Jack was tall but when he stood he knew they’d be at similar height.
“My condolences Jack.”
“That you Fiona.”
“I have no bookings this evening. Would you like company to catch the evening rise?”
“I’d be delighted Fiona.”
This was so unusual; she never fraternized, keeping true to the ancient customs expected of a professional angler. Jack watched the steady ass of the very athletic divorcee walk away, knowing she also played tennis formidably and was on a handicap of two at golf and probably still held the local gun club record scores in the 500, 800 and 1000 yard distances – that is for both men and the few females who shot those longer distances.
* * *
The first chills of autumn had arrived a week ago, Fiona said as they left the lodge that was almost 2500 ft above sea level.
“It’s perfection, almost like no other experience, fishing the rise on a still evening, a little nip in the air,” Jack said.
“Expressed perfectly Jack. It will be good for your spirit.”
That would be true. Jack was still guilty about having his shaft up his daughter’s ass. Gloria would have vomited had she found out. How could he have been so base? Just because his daughter was prepared to corrupted herself for him it didn’t mean he’d had to take what had been offered. Where was his morality, his leadership and continuation of his duty as a good parent?
The big pool they were about to share was presently lifeless. It was a little early.
“Fiona, I have something churning in my head I would like to tell you about.”
“It will disgust you and leave you no longer wishing to be friendly toward me.”
“Spill it Jack. It may make you feel better telling someone.”
“But why tell you I have no idea,” Jack said.
Fiona listened quietly as Jack recalled that weekend with Gayle.
He finished and she said nothing, standing relaxed.
“Well, aren’t you going to walk away?”
“I’m here to fish in your company Jack because I believe it will be therapeutic for you.”
There was a splash out in the pool.”
“Thar she blows Jack. Go catch her.”
:”But aren’t you disgusted?”
“Not in the context in which you presented it Jack. All I can say it makes you appear an even more interesting person to me.”
They ate very late in Fiona’s cabin. She went away and returned with one of the trout Jack had caught, freshly smoked by the chef.
Fiona produced a bottle of French Chablis and they had a simple but exquisite meal of trout, simmered carrots, mashed potatoes and minted peas. The tastes rifled through Jack’s mouth.
He left an hour later. Fiona said she’d enjoyed his company. She had bookings early morning, at midday and at evening but they could play nine holes of golf in the afternoon if he’d like that.
“I’d like that. May I kiss you goodnight Fiona?”
“I was hoping you would.”
In bed Jack sighed thinking it was unlikely Fiona would have sex with him because there had been no indication her thoughts were in that direction. During dinner he’d found she was forty-six, exactly his age. He would have thought she was forty-two or three. She had a son at university who lived with his father and had told him Gavin had preferred his father to her.
All very interesting.
They played golf next afternoon and Jack lost by one shot after adjustment of the nine shots she had to give him, being the difference in their handicaps. She’d been beautiful to watch. The day ended well with deneme bonus them dining in the restaurant, taking a two-person table. Jack had never seen Fiona dine away from the staff table before.
She even appeared beside his car to say goodbye early Sunday afternoon.
“This is a lovely vehicle.”
“It’s my joy.”
“I’d like a ride in it sometime. I adore convertibles.”
“Look, here’s my card,” Jack said. “Come and see me sometime, even stay with me if you wish.”
“What would the neighbors think?”
“What neighbors?” he laughed. “They’d be behind shades watching TV.”
“You may kiss me out here in the open. It’s okay.”
They kissed, leisurely and he drove off, hood down and waving.
On the freeway Jack became sad, thinking Fiona had been simply acting pleasantly to him and a little warmer than usual because of his bereavement. She was a sensitive person. But he’d blown it by telling her about his weekend with Gayle, as she would despise him, but lie to herself that she didn’t.
Actually he was now feeling a lot better about that weekend. It had helped baring his conscience to someone he respected. He thought he should stop thinking about it. He could never have sex with Gayle again. Never.
On Thursday afternoon Jack was potentially up to his ears in sex. Peg called and said she’d changed her mind about never having sex with him again because it wasn’t fair to Jack who needed a woman from time to time. He choked and said it was okay, there were other women. Peg said well he only had to give her a call and whoopee. Gayle had called saying she could stay the weekend if he wanted. Throughout the day his PA Pamela had been acting as if she were on heat. Jack half-thought he could smell pussy juice. Twice she’d touched her breast while talking to him, making no effort to hide her caress if that was what it was. Then one of his wife’s friends Melanie Brooks called to invite him to a movie and dinner but he thought no, she was a bit of a big mouth and was married. She’d probably tell her friends. And then Pamela returned and intoned, “A Miss Fiona Donald is here to see you. She gave me your card so I assume her claim she is a close friend is true?”
“Yes, show her in please Pamela and two coffees would be lovely.”
* * *
The evening after Jack returned home from the lodge Fiona had thrown the vibrator across the room, hugely frustrated. It had been a mistake to consort with Jack Ashley. Her mind was switched on to having sex with him. She’d given him no encouragement and he’d behaved like a gentleman, if you could call a guy who rammed it into his daughter’s ass a gentleman.
Ivan the chef had slept with her on Sunday night as usual, but she hadn’t gotten away and almost had called his efforts boring. He continued on manfully, really sweating, so she’d faked it, something she hadn’t done for a very long time. She knew she had to go to Jack, not only for sex but because she wanted to be with him. He looked tragic, a lost soul and she knew her growing attraction to him went much deeper than that. That finding had been so unexpected.
* * *
“Oh hi,” Fiona said, going to the chair in front of the desk because his assistant was still in the room and Jack might not like being kissed in his office in front of staff. God it appeared to be a large enterprise.
“Coffee ma’am?” asked the assistant.
“Lovely thank you.”
When Pamela left closing the door Jack raced around the desk and kissed Fiona and patted her ass deliciously, not that he knew she’s thought that.
Jack sat down facing her.
“I-I was just passing so popped in.”
“With a packed bag I hope?”
Fiona rarely colored but she did now. God, she’d found a replacement guy at last.
“Are you okay?” Jack asked looked at her expression.
“Yes, it’s just enlightenment,” she said vaguely.
He was firm. “You will stay with me?”
There it was done.
Pamela entered and handed over the coffee. Like Jack, Fiona took it black.
“Fiona this is my gifted PA Pamela Ross. Pamela I’d like you to meet Fiona Donald, a long time friend who’ll be staying with me a few days.”
Fiona turned pink; Pamela turned white.
“I’m pleased to meet you Mrs Donald.”
“Hi Fiona, being divorced I actually call myself Miss but please call me Fiona.”
“You are Scottish?”
“Very much so.”
“My mother is a Leslie from north of Aberdeen.”
“Oh yes, lovely country. My own family have lived in Edinburgh for generations.”
“I must tell my mother I met you. You have such a lovely soft accent.”
“My father is a professor of music and trained me to speak with just a lilt, not that was difficult being raised in a multicultural academic environment. I emigrated here eight years ago to escape my husband who’d turned nasty. Military service in the Middle East did something to him.”
“Oh how tragic. Well it was lovely meeting you.”
As soon as they finished coffee Jack gave Pamela some things to do for him, saying he’d be gone for the remainder of the day and would finish up at 12:30 the next day. He then briefed his vice-president and walked with Fiona down to reception to collect her bag and they went out to the car.
“Not just now thank you.”