DRIVING MISS DAISY--Part 3 Of 5 free porn video

We spent only a minute to enter the house and turn the alarm off. A few seconds later everything was in the dryer then I asked if she was hungry. “No,” she replied, “I had a huge lunch. I’m not used to eating that much. But…I can think of one thing I’d like in my mouth. Why don’t we go to bed?” I followed her numbly as she pulled me into the hallway. Once in the bedroom she repeated her actions of last night. “Wait here a second, John. I want to get a few towels.” She scampered into the bathroom and returned a few seconds later with some large fluffy bath towels from the linen closet.

I helped her to spread them over the bed then joined her as we lay down to kiss and caress each other. I massaged her breasts for only a few seconds before she began to groan. Sure enough—her pussy was drenched when I reached down to touch her. She groaned even louder when I rubbed her hot cunt.

Her legs opened in invitation and I didn’t have to be asked twice. I slid between those glorious appendages while she eagerly guided me into her velvet vise. I knew that expression had been used before, but “vise” was an extremely apt description. She was so tight that every movement rubbed the entire length and girth of my organ and when she began to hump me I knew I wasn’t going to last very long.

Luckily, Sara had a head start on me. She screamed just as I blew, coating her walls with my jizz. I collapsed onto her chest kissing her neck and shoulder repeatedly until she pulled my mouth up to hers. We stayed like that for almost a half hour until we both heard my stomach growl. After listening to her giggle for almost a minute I climbed out of bed, pulling Sara with me to the kitchen. “I think we should grab a bite, don’t you. I think I’ll need to keep my energy level up. Being with you is a lot of fun, but extremely tiring.”

Once in the kitchen Sara asked if I could make some grilled cheese sandwiches. “Want bacon with them,” I asked.

“Of course, everything’s better with bacon, except maybe you. I can’t imagine you being any better.”

“Yeah…right!” I put the sandwiches together as the griddle warmed. First, I cooked the bacon then I added it to the cheese and covered both with bread. I grilled the sandwiches, flipping them once until the cheese had melted then brought them to the table. Sara had already poured two Cokes. We sat naked at the table, looking out the window at the coast of Connecticut, about twenty miles away. The city of Bridgeport was easily identifiable in the crystal clear night.

“Umm, you’re almost as good a cook as you are a lover, John.”

I laughed as well as one can with a mouth full of toasted bread, American cheese, and bacon until Sara stood and pulled my chair back from the table. Next thing I knew she was sitting in my lap, straddling me, her breasts almost at the level of my mouth. “I think you’re a wonderful man, John. You’re kind and gentle, and loving, but you’re strong in the most important way. I know you’re not terribly athletic, but you have the kind of internal strength that women crave. You’re a man that any woman would be proud to be with. I know I am. You’re also the best kind of lover. You’re not selfish and you always want the best for your partner. Well…I can’t speak about your other partners, but you have with me and Cara.”

She stopped to feed me some sandwich then continued. “I want to know everything about you…from the time you were born until this very second. I want to know about your family. Cara has told me that they live here on the Island. In return I’ll tell you everything about me although you probably know a lot from working with Cara.” She gave me another bite then spoke again.

“You know that our dad died before we were born. He had a job as a salesman in a menswear store. Mom has told us that he was tall and thin. I bet that comes as no surprise. He and Mom made enough to get by, but were surprised when she became pregnant. Apparently they had used ‘rhythm,’ being good Catholics. Everybody knows that doesn’t work. Then he was killed in an accident while on his lunch break. Some men were painting the side of a building and were hauling a big bucket of paint up to where they were painting. Something went wrong and the bucket fell, hitting my father in the back of his head and neck. Mom told us he was killed immediately. Mom tried to sue the contractor, but they didn’t have much money and they claimed that he had walked into an area that was marked off with cones and saw horses.

“Mom moved back home with her parents because she couldn’t afford to keep the apartment. She returned to work in the accountant’s office once we were born and Nana took care of us. Because we had no real money we couldn’t go to nursery school or anything like that. Nana taught us our letters and numbers and how to get along with other children. We went to the neighborhood park often because it was free.

“We were good students, but not good enough to get really good scholarships. Cara and I played volleyball and ran track. She ran the 200-meter and did the long jump. I ran relays and long jumped, too. We enlisted in the Army and basic training was a breeze because of our conditioning from track. I studied medical imaging after basic, working in several Army hospitals here and in Landstuhl, Germany during my three years service. Cara worked in supply here in the U.S. We agreed after three years that we’d had enough. Our biggest problem was that we missed each other terribly. I’m sure you know how close most twins are.”

“Where did you live as kids? Does your mom still live there? What about your grandparents?”

“We lived in Lindenhurst in a small house. Mom moved to Coram last year when Nana passed away. Our grandfather died shortly after we left the Army. I think that was about a month after we had started at Suffolk Community. I studied Medical Imaging because I needed the degree to get the better paying jobs. Cara took Secretarial/Office Management as you already know. Mom helped her by teaching her stenography. I never did understand that, but my job doesn’t require it.”

By now my two sandwiches were gone, fed to me piece by piece by a gorgeous woman—a gorgeous naked woman who had trapped my resurgent cock between our bodies. She looked down, noticing its hardness and laughing as she rotated her hips and rubbed it into her slit. “Why don’t you tell me your life story before we clean up and remake the bed?”

“Okay…I’m an only child. My mom has told me that she wanted a big family, but there was something wrong with her plumbing—her words—so they had to stop after me. I’m not very athletic, but I’m not spastic either. I’m average at most sports, at best. Intellectually, I’m way ahead of most people. It has been a mystery to my parents because Dad’s a plumber and Mom works as an office manager for an insurance broker. Both jobs require thinking, but they’d be the first to admit that they’re not geniuses. They live in Nassau County in Oyster Bay.

“I did extremely well in school and graduated Valedictorian from high school. I had always had an interest in computers and decided to try writing a computer game while a senior. I did it in my free time and since I never dated or went to football or other games I had plenty. I finished it about halfway through my freshman year. One of my professors helped me market it to a major game company. They liked it and paid me a hundred grand for it plus royalties that I still receive every quarter. I’d rather not go into my computer activities from junior high and high school. Let’s just say that I quit before getting into trouble with the law. I also did very well in college, but still didn’t date. In fact, I was a virgin until I went to visit my roommate’s family just before my second year of grad school. His sister was a real slut—good looking with a great body, too. I stayed with them for three days and she fucked me five times, even doing me in my bed on the mornings when her parents had gone to work.

“I was just finishing grad school for my PhD. when Daisy found me. She claimed that she wanted math tutoring, but my roommate, Rob, worked in the math department and found out that she was a good student and was only looking for a man to support her. I broke our initial engagement after visiting her parents. Her mother treated her father like he was subhuman. She begged me for another chance about two weeks later. I gave her some conditions and a year after that I proposed again. Unfortunately, her mother was too much of a bad influence. I accidentally overheard a phone conversation in which Daisy planned to make me nothing more than a slave and beat me into submission…lock my genitals into a stainless steel cage as a means to enforce it.

“I also heard her admit that she had been cheating on me with her boss. That’s when I got the idea of taking over control of her boss’s car. I built the control in a week and installed it in his car while they were in a bar. I’m sure that Cara told you about the encounter. They were drinking and snorting coke. He wound up in prison for drug possession and she got probation. She also got her ass kicked to the curb, but talking about her now reminds me of something else I have to do. I got my revenge against her and her lover. I still need to take care of her bitch mother. She’s only motivated by money and Daisy learned everything she knows from her.”

“What will you do?”

“I’m not quite sure yet, but I’ll think on it, maybe during the week. The way to hurt her the most is through her wallet. She’s a totally mercenary person. We’re in a bit of a lull now although we probably have at least a month’s work in Ohio and we always have maintenance work with our existing clients. I can’t steal from her, but I’ll come up with something that will teach her to keep her nose out of other people’s business.”

Sara kissed me then led me to the laundry room. We folded the sheets and I carried them to the linen closet, replacing them with another set. I was amazed at how quickly Sara had been able to make the bed.

Personally, I was just about ready to jump back in with her. Instead, she led me to the shower. We washed and loved each other and I realized not for the first time how much I enjoyed being with Sara. I dried her lovingly while she did me. Then she surprised me by dressing and sitting me on the bed.

She held my hand as she looked deeply into my eyes. “I have to go home, John. I don’t want to. I want to stay here with you, but we need to spend some time apart. Call me mid-week if you want to get together next weekend.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be here then. Remember what I said about my revenge? I think I know what to do now and it will require that I travel. I’d tell you about it, but I think it’s better if you don’t know.”

“It’s not going to be dangerous, is it? Please tell me you’re going to come back to me!”

“No…I don’t think it will be dangerous. In fact, I don’t think that more than one person pertinent to the matter will even know that I’m in the neighborhood. I’ll email you every day if you want. Just tell me your address.”

“Don’t you want to write it down?”

“Not necessary…just tell me.” She did and then she got her things together. I walked her to her car where she turned to kiss me. “Trust me, John. Rushing into a relationship is almost always a huge mistake. You’re still getting over Daisy and you’re vulnerable. I had a wonderful weekend with you and I want to do it again—hopefully lots of times--but we need some time apart so we can think. I know I wouldn’t think too clearly with you around. All I could think about would be how many different ways I could make love with you.”

“Would that be so bad?”

“No, but…”

I stopped her, telling her that I understood. All the same, I felt terribly alone when she drove away. I walked into the garage, taking a look at the SUV that I had rented that afternoon after dropping my Civic in the dealer’s lot. It was a lot bigger than the Civic—roomier, too, and it had a lot of bells and whistles—fifteen computers. Unfortunately, there was no manual. It would make interesting reading—just goes to show you how much of a nerd I am. I went inside, turning the alarm on and sitting to watch a little TV. The only thing I found that was worthwhile was CNN and even that wasn’t so great. I went to bed early, lying there for more than an hour as my plans for Margaret O’Neill began to take shape.


>>>>>>

I was always up early so after a quick breakfast I cruised into the office lot in my rental. I was at my desk working out my travel arrangements when Cara poked her head in, starting the week as she always did. “Have a good weekend?”

“You know very well I did. Come in with your pad once you’re settled in. Get coffee first, if you want.” She returned about twenty minutes later.

“Okay, I want you to send Chuck, Vince, Ali, and Sergei out to Columbus to get the Ohio project underway. Set them up with a good hotel, hopefully near the state office buildings—separate rooms—and tell them to charge all their meals and a reasonable number of drinks to their rooms. Make sure that the hotel saves a room for me. I don’t yet know when I’ll go out there. I have something I have to take care of first.”

“Business or pleasure?”
“I’m not sure yet, although it might turn out to be pleasurable. We’ll see.” I suddenly had another thought and smiled wryly.

“Ah…Daisy,” she said with a smile. She was just about to leave when she turned to me. “I’m really glad you had a good time. I know I did and so did Sara. You’re enough to make me rethink my long-term plans and I would if not for my sister. I think she’s falling for you. You should have heard her talking for hours last night.”

“I thought about her a lot, too. She’s a wonderful person…kind of like her sister.” Then I shooed her out to work. The first thing I did was check on the various ways to get to Springfield in western Massachusetts. Flying was out of the question. I couldn’t find a direct flight unless I drove to LaGuardia, something I hesitated to do. I hated city traffic. In the end I decided to take the ferry from Port Jefferson to Bridgeport, Connecticut. From there the drive was less than ninety minutes. The only question was when.

That was pretty much settled when the Toyota salesman called me. I could pick up my car any time. My check had already cleared. I placed an important phone call then left work early to drop the rental off at Islip MacArthur Airport where I grabbed a cab up to Smithtown, a ride of less than ten miles. I arrived at just after four and an hour later I had been briefed by the salesman and my plates were on the new car. I even had my new registration. I resolved to leave tomorrow—Tuesday afternoon, having an important errand to run first.

I tied up some loose ends early Tuesday morning, telling Cara I would be back in the office as soon as I could before driving first to Great Neck and then in the opposite direction to the ferry terminal in nearby Port Jefferson. I had a reservation for the 2:00 p.m. trip. Arriving early gave me the opportunity to grab a quick lunch, returning just in time to load my new Toyota into the lower deck. My car was wedged between the starboard side and a large truck. Once it was locked I walked upstairs to the rear deck where I sat in the bright afternoon sun. I returned to the car just over an hour later as we pulled into Bridgeport harbor. First on, first off; I was on my way less than five minutes after docking. Ninety minutes later I pulled into the parking lot at the Springfield Marriott.

I relaxed in my ninth floor room, looking out over the city’s skyline, not that it was anything like New York or Chicago. Still, I found the view interesting. I spent a few minutes to email Sara as I had promised. I read the one she had sent me yesterday in response. She told me that she missed me terribly. I felt even better knowing that.

I had some time before dinner so I checked the yellow pages on my phone, finding what I wanted in only a few minutes. Rushing into the lobby, I asked for directions and was pleased when they provided an area map. Twenty minutes later I pulled into the lot at the Cyber Exchange and fifteen minutes after that I had a brand new refurbished laptop. Why, you ask, would I, a computer PhD. want a piece of used junk that was almost obsolete? It was a critical part of my plan. I paid cash, buying in the name of Margaret O’Neill. Once I was in the area of their home I could access their wi-fi and do my dastardly best to ruin her life. Now, we all know that home wi-fi is password protected, right? Think of that protection as being locks on a home’s doors. They are intended to keep honest people honest, but anyone who is a professional cyber criminal would have no problems at all defeating them. The same can be said for most home alarm systems.

I returned to my room where I left the computer. I wasn’t worried about theft. I had only paid $149 plus tax, turning down the extended warranty. I’d have no use for it by week’s end. After checking out the menus I walked into the sports bar. Sitting at the bar I ordered a Philly cheese steak sandwich and a draft Stella. It was a Tuesday so I wasn’t expecting the restaurant to be very crowded, but I was amazed that it was practically deserted. The bartender spent most of my time there chatting with me. She was a fine looking woman with a great figure and I might have shown some interest had I not spent the weekend with Sara. Instead, I paid cash and tipped generously before returning to my room where I checked out the internet capabilities of my new laptop.

I was up early the following morning and after breakfast I drove straight to the State Street headquarters of the bank where Daisy’s father was an executive vice president. I strode right through the customer area to the elevators at the rear. I got off at the third floor and stepped up to the receptionist who, I was sure, was more accustomed to seeing businessmen in suits, instead of a man who was dressed casually in jeans, a plaid shirt, and a navy cardigan sweater. “I’d like to see Thomas O’Neill.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No,” I replied, handing her my business card that identified me as John M. Gotti, PhD, President and CEO of Tritech, Inc. “But, I’m sure he’ll see me.” She gave me the once-over then retreated into the offices. My erstwhile father-in-law walked out to greet me less than five minutes later.

“John, I must admit I’m surprised. Please come into my office.” He shook my hand and led me to his doorway.

“I suggest you close the door, Tom.” He did, but his face showed his obvious confusion.

“What’s this about, John?”

“Do you have an interest in reclaiming your life? I heard a phone call from Margaret to Daisy in which Margaret described the things she’s done to you in the most lurid and disgusting detail. I know all about the cock cage—she sent one just like it to Daisy to use on me—and I know about the beatings…the shocks, too. I came here to see if you wanted my help to gain your freedom.”

“But…how?”

“First, I have a Steelwerks key from the cage I destroyed so I’m sure I can get you out of yours. Margaret told Daisy they were identical. Do you have access to money?”

“No…all of the money, all of the investments are in her name.”

“Where does she have it?”

“The cash is mostly in this bank because I get free accounts here, but they are in her name only.”

“That’s no problem. What about investments?”

“Margaret has accounts with Vanguard, Fidelity, and T. Rowe Price, primarily. Total comes to about three million, but I can’t get to it. Here at the bank she has more than a million in certificates of deposit. Most of them go back to when we had real interest rates.”

“Tom, if you want my help I can guarantee that you can and will get to it—all of it. Is Daisy living with you?”

“No…the probation department in New York wouldn’t let her leave the state. She’s living now in someplace called Bay Shore. Know where that is?”

“Yeah, I do. Do you have a passport?”

“Yes, but Margaret has it in her safe.”

“Can you get it if you have to?”

“I suppose; we’re merging with a bank in Canada so I might have to travel there.”

“Okay, let’s put a plan together. I have an idea of how to proceed, but we’ll need to work out the particulars.” And that’s what we did over the next hour. Then we went to lunch where we discussed the other part of my plan—how I could expand into Europe and his possible role in that effort. He was obviously impressed by the product and client list, eagerly agreeing to my plan before we returned to his office. Doing some business would mean that I’d have a viable justification for being in Springfield. He agreed to pass my firm’s prospectus up the line to the CEO with his recommendation.


>>>>>>

I was parked around the corner from the O’Neill residence at seven o’clock that evening. Tom and I had agreed that I would wait outside until I had received a phone call from him. One of the reasons why I had driven more than fifty miles out of my way to Great Neck and back yesterday morning was to get something that would knock Margaret out and keep her out for hours so I could get into her computer and possibly into her safe. Tom had told me that Margaret had trouble remembering things like passwords so she had a “protected program” that she used for that purpose.

The phone vibrated at 7:18, shortly after sunset. The number showed it was Tom’s cell calling. Leaving my car in the street I walked across the lawn to the driveway. A minute later I stepped into the back door. “What the hell did I give her, John? She had barely finished her wine when her head went down onto her chest.”

“I used to work in an office complex with a bunch of small businesses. We had our own mail room and I got to know the guy who ran it quite well. When I asked him what I could get he told me that sometimes the old solutions are the best. He gave me a bottle of knockout drops—chloral hydrate.” Sure enough, we found her still slouched in her chair in the living room. Working together, we carried her upstairs to the bedroom. “Where’s her computer, Tom? I’ll leave you to get her into whatever she wears to bed.”

“Down the hall to the left—third door on the right.” I nodded and walked out and downstairs to retrieve my laptop and backpack. In it I had several sets of vinyl exam gloves. I didn’t want to leave any fingerprints or DNA and so far I hadn’t touched anything inside the house other than Margaret’s arms.

I found the room easily and booted up the desktop immediately. It was old, with Windows 7 which would make my job even easier. I found the password program and was about to hack into it when I noticed a small leather-bound notebook in a corner of the desk blotter. Tom was right—written in bold black marker was the program name and the word “password” with a fifteen alphanumeric line of characters. The program opened immediately upon entering the expression.

In the list of password-protected sites I easily found Vanguard, Fidelity, and T. Rowe Price along with two other no-load funds. I was into the first site and was tempted to take the first steps to sell the entire holding. Instead, I decided to wait until Tom was safely at work so any suspicion would be pointed away from him. I was into the third site when Tom walked into the room.

“I hope she’ll believe when I tell her that she was ill tonight.”

“According to my source she’ll have a headache to end all headaches when she wakes up tomorrow. I anticipate that the sales will be complete by this time tomorrow so I’ll start moving the money the following day while you’re at work or on your way to Canada.. I don’t have to be here for that. All I need is your IP address and your internet provider. I’ll probably take care of it while seated at Starbucks or some restaurant like Burger-Fi. I’ll move the money all around the globe. Once I put it into Russia, Switzerland, and the Caymans it will be completely untraceable.”

I spent the next half hour working out the details for selling roughly 3.7 million dollars of what Margaret thought of as her money although she had done nothing to earn it. Daisy had told me how she had bragged about never working even a single day in her entire life. “How often does she look at these investments, Tom?”

“I think only at the end of the quarter when she gets the quarterly reports. I know that she updates the number of shares and the share price on a spreadsheet she had me make for her in Excel.”

“That’s good. You’ll be long gone by then. Did you tell her that you had to go to Montreal?”

“Yeah, I did, even asking her if she would remove my cock cage so I could go through security at the airport. She told me I could drive; it wasn’t coming off, so I guess I’ll have to drive there and remove it in a men’s room on the way.”

“Just don’t let her find the extra key.”

“I won’t; it’s in my safe at work.”

“Have you decided where you want to go?”

“I’m thinking Montenegro…in Europe. It’s centrally located in Europe and there’s no extradition treaty with the U.S. in case that becomes an issue. Think I can get a new identity there?”

“I do. As they say—money talks. Get yourself a good attorney and explain that you’re hiding from a wife who tortured you. Keep the cock cage and photos of your body so he or she can see the whip marks. I think they’ll be persuasive. Although, I don’t think it will be necessary if I handle things correctly here. In the meantime, I’ll have the company send you money to set up shop until Sergei is able to join you. Once you’re settled you’ll be able to access your money. It’ll be in a numbered account in Switzerland then, transferred from the Central Bank of Russia. They will naturally assume that it belongs to a Russian and since you will never visit them they’ll really be convinced. I’ll handle that transaction in person claiming to be an American investment counselor working for a Russian industrialist. Believe it or not, I have done this once before—with my own funds.”

“You’re a good friend, John. I’ve dreamed of this day for years, but I had no idea how I could survive…no idea how I could get away from her.”

“I’m glad to help. It’s the least I could do to the bitch who tried to ruin my life. Okay, let’s check out the safe. I’ll have to try a few different approaches. Some of these require that you turn the dial different number of revolutions for each succeeding number of the combination.”

It took me five tries, but I did get it open. Boy, did we get a surprise! Inside were boxes of Krugerrands—gold coins, each an ounce valued at more than $1,200 each, minted in the Republic of South Africa. Tom counted them while I checked their value on the internet. Reluctantly, we replaced them. Had they been U.S. dollars we could have taken them, but selling Krugerrands—more than $60,000 worth—would attract too much attention and neither of us wanted to be arrested for grand larceny. I had all the information I needed so I left by the back door, walking in the darkness to my car just after 10:30. I was back in my hotel room less than thirty minutes later.

I emailed Sara—“All going well. Client well satisfied. Should be able to return by Friday, latest. Can I see you over the weekend? John.” A quick shower later I slid between the sheets for a good night’s sleep.


>>>>>>

I had an excellent breakfast in the hotel’s dining room the following morning. I waited until ten o’clock then drove to the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame. I paid $23.00 for my ticket and wandered around for more than an hour, enjoying the sight of the players and coaches I remembered from my youth. I often recalled my dad telling me about when the New York Knicks had their golden years in the late sixties and early seventies when they won their only two championships. I left just after noon after asking at the information desk for the nearest Starbucks. There I ordered a hot chocolate and a small box of fruit. I only drank coffee in the morning. At this hour the restaurant was almost deserted so I had no trouble finding a table at the rear where I sat with my back to the wall.

It was a breeze entering the internet service provider and keying in the O’Neill’s IP address. From there I began the sales I had investigated last night, cleaning out each and every account. Three of the five were done by four that afternoon so I moved the money to an account at another site where I doubted Margaret or anyone else would be able to find it. Then I went into the bank’s site, easily locating Margaret’s CD’s, which like most investments these days existed not on paper, but as magnetic blips on a computer disc. That money—almost $375,000—disappeared in a flash. I also sent that to the special account.

This was the reason why I wanted a computer that couldn’t be traced to me. Should Margaret complain, and I was sure she would, the financial records would show that the transaction had come from her computer. It would be difficult, if not impossible, to prove that she had not made the sales and trades herself. All of the information—the passwords and internet information would point straight to her computer, and nowhere else and I’d had another idea, one I’d address just before leaving town.

I didn’t care if I ever sold my software to Tom’s bank, but bringing and giving him a sales prospectus gave me a legitimate reason for being in Springfield. I anticipated a visit from either local police or the FBI sometime within the next few months and I wanted to be prepared.

I stayed there all afternoon and by five I was able to move the rest of the money. I packed up my laptop and went to the counter where I asked if they knew of a burger kind of place that had wi-fi.” They sent me to a restaurant just about a half mile down the street.

Once there I asked for a booth in the back and, once again, I sat with my back to the wall. Like old-time gunslingers I had learned way back in junior high to shield my computer screen from prying eyes. Of course, in those days most of those eyes belonged to my parents or to the staff of the public library. This time I used their wi-fi as my base before logging into a server in Israel where I moved the money to Switzerland. I had finished my salad when I moved it again to South Africa. Next step was the Cayman Islands. They have excellent security and privacy laws so I was pretty sure that any trail would run cold from there.

I had finished my bacon cheeseburger and fries when I moved the money again, this time to the Central Bank of Russia. After dessert—a banana split—I made the final move to a different bank in Switzerland. All told I had moved roughly four million dollars seven times—twice to locations where I knew from experience that any transfer would be completely untraceable. Almost three hundred thousand had been paid in bank fees, a bargain so far as I was concerned. I returned to my hotel from there where I retired to the sports bar for a cold beer then to my room for a shower and a good night’s sleep.


>>>>>>

I had checked out by ten the following morning, driving to a Salvation Army drop box I had passed several times over the past two days. After cleaning up the drive with a special program I had brought with me I wiped the plastic surface of the laptop with a wet-nap—an alcohol and soap laden slip of paper that would remove both my fingerprints and any DNA I had left behind even though I doubted the machine would be traced to me. That’s the beauty of buying used equipment without a warranty. There was no record of the laptop’s serial number. I was just back in my car when I phoned Tom O’Neill’s cell. “How did things go with your lovely wife yesterday morning?”

“It went exactly as you said. She had a whale of a headache when she woke up. She couldn’t even sit up without pain. Then she asked me how she had gotten to bed and I told her she had a little wine and said she was feeling poorly so I helped her into bed before going to the guest room to work and sleep. I told her I had to go to Montreal tomorrow morning and she gave me my passport so I wouldn’t disturb her any more today. Then she went back to bed. I’m tempted to leave now.”

“Don’t—you don’t need her calling the cops to look for you. Stick to the plan. You’ll be able to take some clothes and your toiletries and she won’t worry about you for the next week. By then you’ll be in Montenegro and you’ll be free. I hear it’s beautiful there. I’ll wire you some money even before you’re settled in. I’ll send you an email with the details. Incidentally, I’ve moved everything—every red cent—and, best of all, the records will show all the activity originated at her computer while you were at work. Of course, examining the drive won’t show much, but anyone with a modicum of computer experience could handle that. I do plan to address that before I leave.

“Moving it in and out of all those banks cost you about three hundred grand, but there’s still plenty left, even if you decide not to invest it in securities. I think that CD’s, especially in a bank in Montenegro will be safe.” He agreed and I left Massachusetts, happy to catch the 3:30 ferry back to Long Island. After a seafood dinner in Port Jefferson I drove home arriving around 7:30.

I collected my mail and sent an email to Sara telling her that I was home safely—client thrilled. All that was left was in Tom O’Neill’s hands. Hopefully, he wouldn’t fuck it up. The best part of this was that Margaret would be facing a complete change of lifestyle. She would have no income coming in, a big mortgage on the house, and would owe at least two hundred thousand in capital gains taxes. Good luck with that, you fucking bitch! It was just what she deserved.

I was back in the office early the following morning where I was greeted by a loving phone call from Sara. “Hi,” I began in my usual bumbling manner. We chatted for almost twenty minutes and I realized almost immediately that I felt totally comfortable with Sara—much more comfortable than I had ever been with Daisy.

Sara explained that she was on the night shift this week and that she had to pick up the two weekend slots to cover for a colleague who was out of state to attend a wedding. “I always look forward to going straight to bed when I finish this shift. Can it be your bed? Can we get together this afternoon for an early dinner, too?”

I agreed to both and was thrilled when she told me she had all of next week off. I had no difficulty convincing her to accompany me to Columbus. She signed off with a huge kissing sound that left me laughing when I ended the call on my end.

Cara brought me coffee when she picked up the payroll approval. It included her promised $2,000 raise--well…a week’s worth. I told her to schedule two first or business class tickets to Columbus for Sunday afternoon or evening for Sara and me and to arrange for a limo to pick us up at the house at an appropriate time to make the flight. She showed no signs of surprise, but she did smile as she turned to return to her desk. I knew she’d reserve either a large room or, hopefully, a suite for us.

I had done all of the installations personally when I started the business, but now I needed all the help I could get. I had more than 70,000 computers under contract and there would be more than ten thousand additional computers and servers involved throughout the state of Ohio. That meant that some of my team would be in Ohio for close to a month. Travel requirements were one of the primary reasons why I paid them so well. Each member of this team had a salary of $200,000 and, last year, had received bonuses that more than tripled their earnings. Each also received fully paid medical and dental insurance and had a $250,000 group life insurance policy payable to any beneficiary they chose.

Cara passed a typed sheet with all of the travel and hotel arrangements to me shortly before lunch. “Want to join Sara and me for an early dinner tonight?”

“I would, but Sara would probably kill me.”

“She’s already told me that nothing’s going to happen until tomorrow morning because she has to work tonight.”

“Geez, John…you can be so dense sometimes. Just because she can’t fuck you before going to work doesn’t mean she wants her little sister along to destroy the romance. Where are you going to take her?”

“I was thinking about Nicky’s in Centerport. It’s a bar, but they serve food in the back and they have a great lobster special on Friday nights.” She was shaking her head, telling me “no” before I was even half done.

“No! No! No! Take her there when you’re engaged or married, but now you need a place that will be quiet and elegant—a place where you can hold her hand, hopefully in a booth where you can touch each other and maybe kiss. You don’t want me there and neither does Sara. Thanks for the raise. I’ll really need it when Sara moves out.” She laughed when she saw the expression on my face. “I saw the way you two reacted to each other and I can see it in your face now. And, don’t forget that I’ve been listening to Sara all week. I think you two were made for each other.

“On another note, I assume your efforts to screw Daisy’s mother went well.”

“I don’t want to say anything and I don’t want you to, either. I’ll be amazed if the FBI or police don’t stop in to question me. I’m on record as being in the area. I used my own name when I registered and my credit card will show that I was there, too. However, I did give Mr. O’Neill a company prospectus and he agreed to pass it up to the CEO with a recommendation. Once he looks at the list of clients I’m pretty sure we’ll get their business, too. New England is still virgin territory for us. Oh, yeah…I’ll want you to wire $500,000 to a bank in Montenegro next Tuesday. I’ll let you know which bank by the end of the day. Account signatories will be me and Thomas O’Neill.” The look of shock never left her face as she left the office. I returned to my work, clearing my desk by working through lunch and finishing everything by 3:30 that afternoon after telling Cara to wire the money to the Komercijalna Banka AD Budva . I left the office early knowing that she would phone the bank early Monday morning to arrange the transfer, returning to my home for a quick shower and shave, even changing my clothes to a preppy outfit complete with a cotton red, white, and blue striped shirt, thin gray wool sweater, and dark gray worsted wool slacks.

I had just finished dressing when I had a call on my cell. It was Tom O’Neill and I was pleased to see that he had phoned me using a cheap burner phone from Wal-Mart, exactly as I had suggested. “I’ll be on the next plane to Mexico City and then I have a flight to Paris. I understand that money really talks in Mexico. That’s why I took a dozen of the Krugerrands.” I had to laugh. I hadn’t thought of that. He wouldn’t be searched while driving to Canada on business and once out of the country he could do anything he wanted with them. I wished him luck and reminded him to email me at the Yahoo account I’d given him. Accounts like Yahoo and Gmail are web-based and much harder to track than one with your local internet provider.


>>>>>>

Checking my watch I saw the time was just 4:21 so I was a bit surprised to hear the bell for the front door. I felt like a high school kid on his first date. Of course, I had never experienced a first date in either high school or college as an undergrad. No wonder I was so excited.

I opened the door and gazed in amazement at the sight before me. Sara was nothing less than breathtaking as she rushed in to my arms and my kiss. Our tongues wrestled with each other aggressively as our bodies merged. I thought later that we had defied the laws of physics—two bodies coming together and occupying the same space at the same time—a physical impossibility even for a nerd like me.

I broke it first, whispering, “I missed you…so much.” Once again there was a level of comfort I had never known before with any woman and doubted that I ever would again.

“Me, too…obviously. Damn! I wish I didn’t have to work tonight.”

“Yes, but think of how much we’ll be able to look forward to tomorrow morning. I plan to go to sleep early so I’ll have plenty of energy for you.”

“I plan to sleep through at least half of my shift. Well…I would if it wasn’t a Friday night. Where are we going to eat?”

“There’s a nice place on Route 25A that I’ve wanted to try. I’ve read good things about it. Are you ready to go or would you like to come in first.”

“If I come in, John, I don’t think we’d ever make dinner so maybe we’d better go. I like your outfit, John. It suits you.”

“I kinda like what you’re wearing, too.” She was wearing an almost skin-tight tee shirt—beige—with tight jeans and shoes—don’t ask me what kind—with about a two-inch heel. Damn, but she exuded sex appeal! Her bra must have been really sheer because I could clearly make out her hard nipples through the shirt that was stretched so tightly around her firm breasts.

We kissed again briefly then I led her to the garage and my new SUV. Fifteen minutes later I pulled into the long thin driveway to the left of the restaurant. As expected, the restaurant was almost deserted so we were shown straight to a banquette—one of those curved benches some restaurants have that encourage intimacy, not that we needed any help.

Later, years after that dinner, Sara told me that the food was wonderful that evening. I knew that all of our subsequent meals there were spectacular, but that evening I only had eyes for Sara. I did recall that we had iced tea because she couldn’t drink and then go to work in the hospital. I also learned that evening what being in true love was really like.

If the dinner was wonderful, the following morning was just incredible. I was up early as always and I changed the sheets, not that they needed it. A professional cleaning company did my entire house every Thursday, including changing and washing the linens on the bed. All the same, I wanted this experience to be special and it was.

I sat with a glass of OJ on the front porch as Sara’s car drew near. Then she was out the door and into my arms. Our clothes fell to the floor as we rushed inside. She pushed me down to the cold slate floor in the vestibule and rode me there, ignoring the obvious pain in her knees. “I’ve wanted this all week, John. I’m sorry, but I just can’t wait any longer.”

I knew I was going to cum quickly, but she didn’t care. She ground her swollen bud into my abdomen with unbelievable speed and ferocity. I blew into her, my cock softening quickly, but not so quickly that she wasn’t able to reach her climax. Her body shook violently for several seconds before she exhaled mightily and fell onto my chest. We lay there until we had both recovered then we looked into each other’s eyes and laughed. We laughed so hard that we cried.

“I guess you know how much I missed you, John.”

“I’d say almost as much as I missed you. I’m sure you’re tired. Let’s go up to bed.” She kissed me again then pushed herself up and I followed, our clothes still strewn around the floor. I gently pinched her butt as I followed up the stairs, even pausing near the top to plant a sweet kiss on each cheek. Sara turned and took my hand. I had stars in my eyes as we crawled under the comforter.

My cock was still oozing and her cunt was leaking, but we completely ignored those sensations, savoring instead the touch of our skin on skin contact. We lay next to each other for almost an hour, kissing and touching each other. This was making love at its sublime best.

I could see Sara tiring so I pulled her head to my chest as I rubbed her back. “Don’t worry,” I whispered. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.” She was asleep a few minutes later. I thought at the time that this was the way I would always want to sleep.

Sara woke up a bit after two the following morning, claiming, “I have to pee.” She returned a few minutes later and, even in the dim moonlight that filtered through the window I could see the broad smile on her face.
Her lips met mine even as her hand sought and found my hard dick. She rolled onto her back, pulling me between her legs. “Fuck me, John. Take me and give me the good hard fucking I need.” That’s pretty much what I did--rubbing the spongy head of my cock into her slit and slowly pressing home once I knew she was lubricated.

Sara’s legs went first around my waist and back as our bodies met forcefully with every thrust. We continued that way for several minutes until Sara grabbed her ankles and pulled them up and over my shoulders. Our action was different now, but I knew that I was rubbing her G-spot as I sawed in and out of her hot tight tunnel. It wasn’t long before I could see the results of my efforts. I could see and feel tiny tremors radiating from her cunt and coursing through her body.

My instinct told me to press onward so that’s what I did, driving into Sara faster and harder until she could take no more. Her body shook and twisted wildly for almost thirty seconds as her orgasm took complete reign over her body. I had cum only a few hours earlier so I had lots of staying power. However, I’m only human. My balls clenched up to my body as my hips forced my swollen organ as deep into Sara as I could ever hope to be. I’d given Sara my best. I hoped it was enough.


>>>>>>

Apparently, it was because she woke with a huge smile on her face late the following morning even as she licked my cheek and neck. “Morning, Sunshine,” I whispered.

“I don’t think there’s much reason to whisper, John. Afraid to wake the kids?”

“How many do you want?”

“How many bedrooms in this house?”

“Five, but I use one as an office although I could move it to the basement.”

“Four kids with you sounds absolutely perfect.”

“I thought you wanted to move slowly…take our time to get to know each other?”

“I did, but a week away from you helped me to change my mind. Changing one’s mind is always a woman’s prerogative, you know.”

“Actually, I did know that. Want breakfast?” She replied by reaching under the blanket in search of my cock.

“I do, but I think this will do for now.” She leaned down, her head reaching for me until I felt her tongue rub against my soft smooth skin. Even knowing that it was coming I responded with a gasp that evolved into a long low groan as I felt my dick vanish into her mouth and throat.

“Oh, God…that’s…!” I couldn’t believe that Sara’s lips were nuzzling my pubic hair while her tongue lovingly laved my shaft. The sensation was incredible and I was sure it would be over soon. I had rarely cum in a woman’s mouth during my limited sexual history. Rob’s sister and Daisy used oral primarily as foreplay—a prelude to actual fucking—so I was sure that Sara would move soon to straddle my hips and slide down my eager tool. However, that was my second surprise of the morning. If anything, her sucking and licking became even more intense until I felt the surge within my abdomen. “Sara! Sara! I’m….” And then it was too late. Five times semen exploded from my body straight down her throat to her stomach. The sixth merely dribbled out onto her tongue.

She emerged from beneath the sheet swirling her tongue and licking her lips. “Yum! Now, that’s my idea of how to start the day right.”

“Yeah…right! I have to agree, although if I had to experience that on a daily basis I’d probably be dead in a month.” I sagged back onto the bed totally drained, but I did find the energy to pull Sara down with me. We kissed tenderly in spite of my morning breath until I suggested again that we get something to eat. Sara agreed mostly, I thought, to silence my growling stomach. She backed off me then pulled me up with a laugh, leading me again to the shower.

I had never realized how much fun getting clean could be. We showed our love for each other with little touches and gentle kisses. I used a razor to shave my face then Sara used it to carefully shave around my cock and over my scrotum. “You won’t regret it, I promise you,” she whispered and then to prove her point she sank to her knees to take me into her mouth once again. It felt great, but there was no way I could cum only a few minutes after blowing into her mouth. I pulled her up and into my arms. We kissed again—long and sweet and tender—as the streams of hot water cascaded over us. Finally, I reached down and turned the spray off, leading Sara out to the waiting warm towels. I dried her hair and head first before moving down to her shoulders, breasts, and back. I knelt to towel her butt, abdomen and legs dry before standing to use a new towel on my own body. We found clothes to wear—me in the closet and Sara on the floor downstairs—and I drove her into the village to the Yacht Club for their weekend brunch.

I had bought a boat—a twenty-foot center console with a powerful Yamaha outboard. Yes, even computer nerds can have fun speeding over the water and catching the occasional fish. Joining the Northport Yacht Club made sense. I could use their tender service to and from my mooring and I bought gas at a discount even though I could easily afford even the exorbitant price of fuel in the harbor.

We had just returned to our table with hot omelets and sides of bacon and breakfast sausage when Sara asked, “What exactly does your firm do, John? Cara has told me several times, but I still don’t understand.”

“You’re not alone in that. I wrote a complex program for my PhD thesis. Know what a firewall is?” I continued once she had nodded. “A firewall is supposed to keep unwanted viruses and spyware out of your computer, but they’re typically like door locks at home. They’ll keep some people out, but not all.

“Most computers have either Windows 7 or Windows 10 as their operating system. Windows 10 has a password requirement to open it, but that’s easily overcome, too. My program is really three layers of protection, both to restrict a computer’s use to its authorized owner and to keep all of that nasty stuff out. I’ve sold usage to a lot of government agencies and banks to whom security is of utmost importance. I charge $2,000 per computer the first year, including installation and upgrades and $1,000 every year thereafter. It is expensive, but so are security breaches whether you’re a bank, a retail outlet, or the federal government dealing with national security. I’m working now on a mega-deal with the Department of Defense. Even they don’t know how many desktops and laptops they have—more than a hundred thousand around the world, that much I do know, and they want each and every one protected.

“I like to think of myself as a patriot. I love this country and I’m proud to be a citizen. Nobody will ever accuse me of income tax evasion. I view taxes as dues for living in the best country on the planet so I’m giving them a break financially. I really can’t say any more, but I will tell you this. By the time I’m done almost every country on earth will have this protection.”

“Almost?”

“Yeah…I’ll never sell to either Russia or China or Iran or North Korea or any other nation that’s a threat to the U.S. I’m already working on version four. It’s at least twice as powerful as version one. I’m the only person who can remember the password to access the program code. It’s forty-two characters long. There are eighty-six characters on the American keyboard so the number of possible codes is 86 to the 42nd power—actually even more because I can use the same character two or three times. Any idea how many that is?”

“Not a clue; math wasn’t my strong point in school.”

“That’s okay; I have no idea either. Just take my word for it—it’s a hell of a lot!” We laughed and returned to our food and mimosas. After finishing the omelets Sara led me back to the buffet for a big pile of cold boiled shrimp. She insisted on feeding me one succulent shrimp dripping cocktail sauce after another. Sara told me then that she would be late arriving Sunday morning so she could get some clothes for the trip.

“Don’t get too many. I plan on buying you a whole new wardrobe. I have a credit card for you to use. Think you might enjoy spending the first day in the hotel’s spa?”

“I think I’d love it. I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Good…I plan on spoiling you terribly and all I ask in return is….”

“That I fuck you until you can’t stand up…until you can’t even move.”

“I was going to say that you love me as much as I’ve learned to love you.”

“You already have that.” Then she leaned forward to kiss me and I was sure that she would have done more had we been in my house—what was destined to become our house, our family’s cherished home. We finished eating only when we were stuffed, barely able to even walk back to the SUV for the short ride home.
I fell onto the couch and Sara joined me. “Why don’t you see if there’s a football game on?”

I just handed her the remote and a few minutes later we were watching Ohio State vs. Purdue. “That’s the Big 10, John. Do you know anything about football?”

“Do you recall that I have a photographic memory? I know more about football than most people, but I’ve never found it too interesting.”

“I’ll bet you spent every Saturday in the library, didn’t you?”

I couldn’t stifle the laugh that began in my throat. “No bet,” I gagged, unable to hold it down any longer. “You know I’m a nerd. You also know that I never dated until I met Daisy while I was in graduate school so it’s a logical deduction that I rarely participated in most other social activities. However, in my defense I did play on the chess team and I was university bridge champion one year until my partner graduated. So, if you want to play either bridge or chess, I’m game.”

“I’ll pass,” she said with a giggle as she laid her head onto my lap. “Let’s just watch the game…okay?” It was…okay, that is, even though it was a slaughter. I asked Sara if she wanted anything for dinner and, after a moment’s thought, she suggested hot dogs so I slowly squeezed out from beneath her head to start the grill. We ate around 4:30 then she pulled me upstairs to the bedroom where she once again demonstrated her athleticism by bending my cock in about a thousand different directions before I finally gave up the ghost, cumming hard into her soaking wet puss. We relaxed for a while before I helped her to the shower. I guess that four orgasms will wear you out. I was lucky to have just one.

I washed her carefully and she seemed rejuvenated when we exited. Sara dressed in her scrubs and left me just after six. I started my laptop to play a game of chess against the program. It wasn’t much of a program—I almost always won.


>>>>>>

We spent all day Sunday together and—no—we didn’t spend it fucking. It was a balmy October day with temperature in the 70’s so we went fishing in the morning. Out of Northport Harbor and east to Old Field, an area with probably thousands of large rocks, we sped. I had bought two dozen green crabs in addition to my rods, tackle box, and electronics. Sara was grinning wildly as we flew over the calm water until my GPS and sonar told me we were in a potentially prime spot.

After anchoring I cut one of the crabs in quarters, baited our hooks and we sat with the rods in our laps. I baited the hooks again after an unproductive twenty minutes, changing bait again twenty minutes after that. All told, we fished for almost two hours, even changing locations twice, without even a single bite. We returned to Northport around noon and were back in the house, clean from our shower, by 1:30. After a quick sandwich and soda that we ate naked, loving and touching the entire time. We were dressed in time to relax for a few hours before the limo arrived.

Driving into New York on a Sunday afternoon is always chancy. Traffic during the summer can be horrendous. Now, however, it was mid October so there was little beach traffic to fight. The trip still took us more than an hour. I paid the driver and we walked into the Delta terminal at LaGuardia. There are special lines and services for first class; that’s one of the reasons why you have to pay the ridiculous fees. We had checked in and passed through security with almost an hour to spare.

The non-stop flight took off less than fifteen minutes late which is almost miraculous at any of the New York airports. The flight was short—only about 90 minutes—and uneventful. We strode into our executive suite at the hotel just after 11:00. We showered again and climbed into bed naked, needing sleep. I had an important meeting the next morning with my team.


>>>>>>

We were holding hands when we walked into the hotel’s restaurant just after eight, having no trouble locating my four fellow nerds in the large dining room. All we had to do was follow the cat calls. They were surprised at seeing me walking toward them holding hands with Cara. “Jeez, boss—who’s minding the store? Don’t tell us that you left that idiot Carson in charge. He’s almost useless.” Yeah, right--Ben Carson was a PhD from MIT and he was just about the smartest of my employees after Sergei who was a PhD from Moscow State—yup…that Moscow, not that I was the least bit worried.

Knowing that my employees might have access to tremendous amounts of money or national secrets, each of my employees, even Cara, had been thoroughly vetted by the Pinkerton’s Agency. I had turned down three potential hires because of minor concerns that wouldn’t have bothered most firms in the least. Sergei--the product of a father from Russia and a mother from Montenegro--hated the Russian regime, just as his father did.

“Sorry, guys, but I left Cara in charge of the office. I’d like you to meet her twin sister, Sara. How’s the buffet here?”

Chuck responded once they had regained their composure. “Try the omelet station. The chef will make eggs any way you want except scrambled. They’re on the buffet.”

I introduced Sara to each of the men then led her to the food. We’d eaten lightly last night and I was starving. Apparently, Sara was, too. I was standing in front of the omelet chef when she returned from the buffet with a plate piled high with bacon and sausage. I took the omelets from the chef and followed Sara back to the table. Once there she entertained my team by taking a piece in her mouth and nudging me. I looked at her then the guys before giving up and taking the other end into my mouth. We nibbled until the bacon was gone and our lips were touching. Sara decided that was a good time to grip the back of my head and hold the kiss for several minutes.

“I’m feeling a bit deprived,” she said in explanation. “We haven’t made love for two whole days.” They laughed; I turned the deepest shade of red even though what Sara had said was true. It was something I’d have to address tonight…hopefully several times.

Of course, I asked how the install was going. I had planned for about thirty minutes per install because the program had to be personalized for every server and every workstation depending on the department and the user’s position and job.

“I think it’s going well,” Sergei replied, speaking for the team he was leading. “We’re a bit ahead of schedule. We’ve handled the servers at night when they weren’t in use and the workstations during the day. I think we’ve averaged about ten hours a day—roughly twenty installs each and we’ve worked Saturdays, too.” The other three nodded as he finished speaking. “We should finish here by the end of the week and then we’ll have to move to the satellite offices throughout the state.”

“I guess that means an end to all of the omelets.”

They shook their heads. “We can find omelets anywhere, John…filets, too,” Chuck added. Our conversation turned to today’s meetings and our plans for the rest of the week.

I left Sara at the entrance to the spa, first giving her the company MasterCard with her name on it. She signed it on the spa’s counter then pulled me in for a long searing kiss. “When will I see you again?”

“I plan to knock off around four so I’ll meet you in the suite.” Well, it was called an executive suite, but it was really just a big room with a small sitting area—couch, armchair, and coffee table. It wasn’t what I really wanted, but we’d only be here for five nights and we’d get by.

I was wearing one of my better suits when I walked into the governor’s office. We spoke briefly mostly to update him on the progress of the installation. He was pleased to know that we