No Contest Book 2 Hard Fought 1991 93Chapter 28
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No Contest Book 2: Hard Fought 1991-93Chapter 17 free porn video
Joe survived Black Friday, although he wasn’t sure about his right hand. They had stayed open past 2 am. A lot of the later customers he actually recognized. His rock and roll friends. Boxes and boxes of his book had been sold. A lot them signed by him personally in front of the customer. More he had signed earlier in the day. All day. Yes, it was a wonder his hand survived.
Advertising had been intense. In dailies and weeklies. Nationally. Television too. Using the image of the friends on the bench and the twins in the foreground. Animated. Done by Moe’s company, with her copy of course. In New York it included Joe’s appearance at Barnes and Noble and its being opened until late at night. Making sure it was clear it would be the flagship store on 5th Avenue only.
When he got home, he ordered Joanne to use him. She sucked him hard and rode him doing all the work, including pulling on her nipples and rubbing her clit. She came twice before he came. She even bounced harder and faster when she saw he was near. Not for her, but for him. Disobedience from his order, but he chose not to punish her. Instead he pulled her down to kiss her, and they lingered on it until his penis wearily slipped from her pussy. Then they slept.
Saturday instead of resting Joe and his wives and even his kids, along with Eddie and Rachel, Joanne and her kids (which were his too, actually and spiritually), worked with Tony to finish up the basement studio and apartment of Eddie. It just needed cleaning up and painting, and then the furniture and studio equipment would arrive. One of the first things done had been tearing out the wall between Joe’s studio and the neighboring basement, making Joe’s studio the control room. The new wall, built with windows and a door, had actually been covered with acoustic tile so as to muffle outside noise instead of inside, since workers worked all day on the other side of it. It would still have room for Joe to practice, along with his kids. But the much fancier and much larger studio would be on the other side of the wall.
Harvey came down around noon, bringing sandwiches and sodas. He and Rachel embraced. “Come,” he said. “You, too Li.”
Joe also entered the old Otis elevator. Harvey keyed in the attic and handed matching keys to Rachel and Liang. The keys came on rings with another key. “For the back door entrance and the entrance from the stairs,” he explained. “Same key for both. I had this old Otis restorer come in and put in a new keyed only access to the second floor for Tony and Laura,” he continued as the elevator slowly climbed. “And for the basement for Eddie and Rachel. I have the copies of the keys in my office I’ll give to you Joe. I figured the first floor would be all access.”
Joe nodded as the door opened. “We’re opening the first floor completely. Completely taking out the wall. The kids will have their own rooms there, and we’ll have a playroom for them and an expanded living room for everyone.”
“So I heard. Come on.” He led them to the farthest door on the right. “I hope you like it,” he smiled nervously at Rachel.
“Stop worrying, Harv. I’m easy.”
He laughed and opened the door. He had left the old bed, shoving it against the wall farthest from the door. A modern looking desk of moderate size, blonde wood and black metal, with the surface being like a table top rimmed by the metal, and with metal drawers, faced the back window which had wood slatted blinds over it. A tall, comfortable looking desk chair of black leather and chrome sat within the desk opening. A two shelf filing cabinet, also black, sat to the right of it. Bookshelves of the blonde wood matching the table top desk filled the right wall of the office.
“I left the bed, thinking you might have some late nights here,” he explained. “I also got you dedicated lines,” he said, pointing at a black phone with buttons. “One for the phone and one for a fax if you need it. I think you can have other lines come through, like for your apartment downstairs. Change it how you like,” he shrugged.
“It’s perfect,” said Rachel, hugging and kissing him.
“Oh. Uhm. Okay. Good,” he reacted after the kiss. “Unfortunately, yours is a smaller room, Li,” he said. “Not enough room for the bed. Maybe a cot?”
They went back into the hall and he opened the next door. It looked identical to Rachel’s except smaller and no bed. And a smaller chair of similar design sat near the vent that used to be a window that looked over an air shaft. Similar to what Moe had. “I got you a line too, young lady,” he smiled.
“Thanks Harvey. It’s lovely,” Liang said, hugging but not kissing him.
“Be sure to give me the billing for the phones,” said Rachel.
“That’s okay. My gift.”
“No Harvey. I’ll be calling all over the world. It’s my job. I will be paying for it, okay?”
“Yes Rachel.”
“I can take care of my phone,” Liang said.
“Do you plan to call your girlfriend every night in San Francisco?” Rachel asked her.
“What? No.”
“Then let me take care of it. Okay?”
“But I have no expenses,” Liang pouted. “I feel like a kept woman.”
“You can pay a quarter of the tax and insurance for the house,” said Joe. “Or of half the house I guess. And we can figure out utilities and food. But you know your wives and I are pretty damn wealthy.”
“I’d like to chip in,” Liang said. “Who should I pay it to?”
“Me. I’m closest to my accountant who takes care of most of the billing. Pretty much everything but groceries. I’ll deposit the check and send everything but the food part to Sally.”
“Or you could accept your lot as a kept woman,” Rachel suggested.
“Or you could take it out in trade,” Joe waggled his eyebrows.
She punched Joe’s shoulder. “I’m not a cheap whore,” she muttered. “What would that be? Twenty bucks a night?”
“Maybe ten?” Joe shrugged and got another punch. Then they laughed.
Joe rubbed his shoulder.
“Baby,” Liang smirked.
“Glad you pulled your punches. Otherwise I’d be across the room.” They had been getting up early, along with their wives and Essie. Liang shared her Kung Fu while they showed her Krav Maga.
They followed Harvey into his office where he gave Joe envelopes with keys and Rachel the forms for the phones with their numbers. Harvey had coded the numbers. R and RF for Rachel’s and L for Liang’s. Joe and Liang shook his hand. Rachel embraced and kissed. “I’ll thank you better later,” she told him.
“You don’t have to,” he blushed.
“Yes I do,” she smiled and kissed him again.
Harvey showed Joe how to set the locking system in place in the elevator. Joe decided to keep the floors in locked set up. There were four copies for each floor. He’d let Tony and Laura decide who’d get the spares. Rachel gave one to Joe. “I’ll hold onto the other spare,” she said. He put his copy back in the basement envelope. They needed to be labeled.
They returned to the basement where they grabbed their sandwiches, the others nearly finished with theirs. Joe handed Laura the keys to their floor and showed her and Tony how to use them. Laura gave him a copy. And a kiss. And they used the opportunity for her to give Joe a tour of their floor. It was actually a lot larger than the 2nd floor next door. Because Joe’s had a sort of balcony look that gave the living room a really high ceiling. The kids’ rooms at the back, with the back stairs and toilet encroaching the space. Hallways above the kitchen and where the elevator opened.
Laura used that space where the opening would have been in Joe’s half as the showcase space, with polished wood floors. There’d be furnishing it, not yet bought to fill out the space, but one of Tony’s sculptures took a place of honor near the center, and walls had some of his drawings as well as other modern, mostly abstract prints. At the back of the showcase was Tony’s studio with a sturdier wood floor and back windows lighting it. At the front the showcase wood flooring continued as the floor for their huge master bedroom and two smaller guest rooms, one with the orgy bed in it.
“Want to take a break?” Laura asked Joe, undoing her work shirt. Tony shrugged as Laura pulled Joe into the orgy room, guiding him to the edge of the bed where he sat. She removed her shirt, revealing her petite tear drop shaped breasts. Joe removed his shirt as well while she knelt and removed his shoes and pants and underpants and took his cock into her mouth. He caressed her tits, bringing her nipples to full erection as she licked his cock and sucked the knob while fisting him.
“Laura?” he murmured, urging her up. When she stood, they kissed while he blindly undid her pants. “Condom?”
She hurriedly grabbed one from the cabinet/drawers in the room. Before letting her open it, he took it from her and lifted her. She shrieked and giggled when he plopped her onto the bed and headed for her pussy face first. Figuring this to be a quickie, he brought her near her peak before pausing to roll on the condom. “Yes!” she exclaimed when he sunk in slowly, her legs wrapping around his thighs. “Just fuck me Joe.”
They kissed while he thrust slowly deeper. Once all the way in though, he commenced to give her what she wanted, his hands taking hold of her ass cheeks while his mouth nibbled at her nipples. “Fuck,” she kept saying with each thrust, her hand reaching between them for her fingers to strum her clit. The longest “Fuck!” stretched for seconds and was also the loudest. He fucked her even harder during her orgasm, coaxing his out.
Just then, Cheryl and Moe came in and stripped. “Can anyone come?” Cheryl giggled, and pulled Joe from Laura at the tail end of his orgasm, quickly whipping off the condom and embracing the fading cock with her mouth, getting the last oozing of his climax.
Meanwhile Moe tackled Laura and pulled her over her in a sixty-nine.
Joe cringed from sensitivity, but soon recovered as Cheryl sucked him back to life. Patiently, because it took nearly five minutes for full, hard recovery. After a couple of trips of glans in throat, she said, “Turn over Moe,” and Moe did, bringing her ass and more importantly pussy above Laura’s face where Joe sunk his cock in. Cheryl planted her pussy over Laura’s mouth. Laura rubbed Moe’s clit and bounced Joe’s balls. Joe held Moe’s tits and twisted her nipples. Cheryl and Moe kissed and Moe held Cheryl’s tits. When Moe came, she slid from Joe’s arms and Cheryl took her place. Laura slid out, and Moe spooned behind her as Joe fucked his legal wife for a while. When she finally came, he fucked her through it and came at the tail end of her orgasm, elongating it.
“I seem to be neglecting you,” Joe said after recovering.
“We understand,” Moe said. Not only did Joanne and Joe like to get the most out of their occasional time together, but his sperm hadn’t taken the last time they tried, and Joanne was probably on the last days of her ovulation when she arrived Wednesday night.
“Tonight would probably be too late for getting her pregnant,” Joe offered.
“You should be with her,” Moe insisted.
“With Nigella. I mean Li,” Cheryl giggled.
“Bitch,” Moe chuckled.
“She’s not Nigella,” Joe sighed. “But they’re genuinely fond of each other.”
“It’s called love,” Cheryl said, stretching over him and kissing him. “And it’s sweet that you brought them together.”
“Sometimes I feel like she’s my attack dog,” Joe said.
“One of the least bitchy women I ever met,” said Cheryl. “But I get your meaning. She likes it Joe. It’s a thrill for her that you use her.”
“I’d even say it’s a kink,” said Moe. “And somehow your sixth sense got that.”
“I told you Moe,” said Cheryl. “His confidence is slipping in his old age.”
“This is pretty private stuff,” said Laura.
“When are you going to get that you’re part of the family?” Moe said. “Unless you don’t want to be?”
Laura rolled Moe onto her back and straddled her and kissed her. “Are you kidding?” she grinned. “I love my big, crazy family.”
“And we love you right back,” Moe told her, pulling her down for another kiss. “But we really should get up.”
“And I’m starved,” Joe chuckled, seeing his still wrapped sandwich on the chair and the unopened bottle of Coke beside it. He decided to eat it naked while watching his wives and Laura dress. They each gave him a kiss, and waved their asses at him when they left, Joe chuckling mid bite.
When Joe finally came down to join the small army of workers, he worked beside Eddie in the studio. “When do you see this up and running?” he asked.
“The equipment will be here on Monday, along with a shitload of other stuff.” The bedroom had a bed in it, custom made by Tony because Eddie liked the orgy bed. A lot smaller. King sized. But otherwise had nothing. That would change on Monday. The only thing complete was the bathroom, which they decided to have done with the plumbers there plumbing the space.
Eddie’s side of the conjoined townhouse had its own utility room, including a washer/drier which the residents of the apartments in it had shared. They debated whether to keep the two rooms separate completely, making access between Joe’s and Eddie’s basements exclusively through the control room, and decided to build another door between the two utility rooms. But that would be of lowest priority.
“How long to set it up?” Joe asked about the studio.
“Just a couple days unless there’s a problem.”
“There’s always a problem.”
“True.”
“So Monday night you can move in,” Joe said.
“Yeah.”
“Enough time to air things out.”
Unlike Joe’s half of the townhouse basement, with only windows with egress to the street or the alley, and like every lower window, secured with bars, Eddie’s had doors on both sides, with screen doors, so there’d be a lot better ventilation for airing out the smells of paint. The advantage of being on the servants’ side of the building. Joe had the grand, art nouveau entrance while Eddie had a stoop going up and stairs going down to much plainer doorways. Of course, even with latches to secure the screen doors, they’d have to close up and lock them at night.
“You looking forward to kicking me out?” Eddie said and they laughed.
“You want to keep working in my studio?” Joe asked.
“I think with the kids I will. But I’d like to test things out when we’re working.”
“Cool.”
“But I do want to record Ronnie.”
“With the Cowsills?” Joe smirked. Referring to having Nathan playing drums. That is, a family band.
“Why not? Nate won’t be playing heavy metal anytime soon, but he’ll do for the folky shit.”
“And Esther on keyboards?”
“She’ll do.”
“You’re disappointed in her.”
“She was brilliant at music theory, but always sounded mechanical, you know? I swear Charlie can stop your heart the way he plays.”
“That’s just Esther,” Joe said. “The way her mind works. She’s got a sweet voice, though.”
“Like I said, she’ll do. But imagine if we toured with her. Nobody would notice me.”
“I somehow doubt that, even with Esther. You had Nigella.”
“True.”
As usual, they paused in memoriam.
“You know Ronnie’s got another song,” Eddie finally said.
“I didn’t. As good?”
“Yeah. Upbeat.”
“What Dylan song did she steal?”
Eddie chuckled. “I Want You. Problem is, I can’t figure a tune as good with that pattern.”
“I guess we could always try to get ahold of Bob for permission.”
“Nah. I’ll figure it out.”
“Her version of Hard Rain’s pretty amazing.”
“Yeah. Maybe an EP? Another Dylan song on the B side?”
“Sounds like we’ll still need permission.”
“It’s going to be a vanity pressing Joe.”
“Right. You’re not planning on stealing her songs?”
Eddie chuckled, but got serious. “It’d never work. There’s an innocence to them. Maybe she sings and writes lyrics better than any 8 year old should, but it’s all about her being a kid.”
Joe nodded. “So that means, if she sticks with it, when she’s old enough that people aren’t skeptical that someone who can sing and write lyrics like that could exist, she’ll probably not be able to sing these songs.”
“I have a feeling she’ll have better songs to sing.”
“And when she becomes a teenage phenom, we could actually release the EP.”
“I guess then we’ll have to ask Bob’s permission.”
They laughed.
They finished their work, which was putting up acoustic tiling of a specific sort. One thing few knew about Eddie was how brilliant he was besides his musical genius. The studios he had created in each of his houses had actually been designed by him. The first and second with assistance and advice, but by the third he knew what he wanted and how to achieve it. He studied the science and technology of acoustics.
In the same way he knew the mechanics and electronics of sound equipment. Like Belle knew engines. From amps to speakers to instruments to control boards to anything requiring wiring and dealing with sound, he knew how it worked and how to fix it. And he knew what they could do. Any engineer he worked with needed to know he would be hands on. If they couldn’t adjust to that, Eddie’s fired his ass. Even so, he never engineered an album himself, nor produced it. He wanted that second opinion, that perspective. They just had to accept that he knew what he was talking about, and either have a convincing argument or be willing to agree. The other engineer or producer he’d fire would be a sycophant. Pretty specific area of acceptance, but he always managed to find people he could work with. Sometimes because he worked with them before, but not always. He liked shaking things up, so wasn’t as loyal as other artists might be with his level of success. But that was something he made sure they understood. Maybe he’d want them next time. Maybe not. But he didn’t want them thinking they hadn’t been good enough. Because he made sure he worked with the best, at least for him.
So when the equipment arrived, he’d be the one installing them and making sure they worked. Others would help with the heavy lifting, but he’d be in charge.
Leaving Rachel and Laura involved with everything else in his new basement home.
Which, considering Rachel’s history of being a manipulative bitch, had disaster written all over it.
Joe interceded. The one man both women trusted and respected. More than their mates even. And for the same reasons. The two were the second choice as far as their gender for their boyfriend or husband. With Joe, even though he had multiple other lovers, his focus fixed on them when they made love. Insuring unequivocally, because he genuinely wanted it, that they got as much pleasure as possible from him. And besides the sex, they could see he genuinely cared about them. Wanted things to be better for them. And things had been better because of him. Like some sort of psychic shrink, he seemed to know how to get them over their traumas or hang ups, or at least to move on from them better. They loved him. And he loved them.
“Ladies,” he had said, which made them giggle for some reason, “I call this meeting to order of the society of I’m always right.”
“You’re always right?” Rachel asked.
“No. You’re always right.”
“So why didn’t you say that?” Laura asked.
“Because what I meant was as far as you two are concerned you think that I ... never mind.”
They laughed. Joe did too.
“The point is,” Joe began again, “you’re both strong, confident women.”
“I am?” Laura asked.
“Of course you are. Your business, of which you do well, requires you to be confident in your artistic eye and to network, and I can’t imagine that would work if you weren’t strong.”
“And me?” Rachel asked.
“Are you kidding?” Joe shook his head.
“You did suggest I’ve been fooling myself.”
“You’re a commanding woman, Rachel. And you did pursue me despite all my rejections for ten years.”
“True,” she smiled.
“Anyway, you’re about to work together on the house. I want you to work together and not go at loggerheads with each other. That means compromise. One opinion is as valid as the other. Laura, you’ve obviously had more experience, but Rachel has the advantage of knowing what Eddie might prefer.”
“This is my fourth house with Eddie,” Rachel reminded them.
“Exactly. But that doesn’t mean Laura’s ideas are any less valid. You might even find them exciting, Rachel. Fresh eyes.”
The two women looked at each other and nodded.
“Good.”
“Is that it?” Rachel asked.
“That’s it.”
They both giggled and attacked him. Working together to remove his clothes. To harden his cock. Rachel sat on his face while Laura went away quickly to find a condom. Once covered, she rode him, leaning forward to kiss Rachel. Hands went out to caress breasts and clits. When they both came, they switched, Rachel removing the condom to ride him barebacked. They both came again and Joe had Rachel on her back thrusting hard until he got his.
“We’ll be good,” said Rachel as they dressed.
“We’ll make it work,” Laura agreed.
They kissed each other briefly before kissing Joe with more intensity and leaving him, Joe as usual watching the two delicious backsides as they walked out of the room.
And so they’d collaborated with the occasional argument, ending up satisfied that they’d created a really nice home.
Joe wouldn’t be there when the furniture arrived early Monday, nor Eddie’s studio equipment. He’d be in the air then, flying in from his second in store, in St Paul at a small store near Macalester College called the Hungry Mind. He preferred reading at the smaller bookstores or at least cool independent ones, a lot of them actually pretty large. He’d wanted to read at the Strand, but the publisher preferred Barnes and Noble because the Strand depended too much on second hand books, or so they claimed. Joe figured it probably had more to with favoritism, for Barnes and Noble to be more receptive to promoting his publisher’s books.
His tour bounced from town to town. There and back to New York. He flew out on weekends. For instance the next weekend he’d do an instore at Powell’s in Portland Oregon on Friday and Elliot Bay in Seattle on Saturday. Flying after class on Thursday and returning on Sunday.
The next weekend would be at the famous Beat bookstore in San Francisco, City Lights, and then down to San Diego for Bluestocking. The latter across the street from one of Joe’s favorite punk record stores, Taang.
Then the final weekend of the tour would be at the University of Texas Austin bookstore and Brazos in Houston.
Except for the first jaunt, flying early Sunday with Joanne and Charlie and Ella and coming back the next morning, Cheryl accompanied Joe. Liang wanted to, which Joe couldn’t quite understand. All that travelling and Joe felt like a commodity. But he always ended up enjoying it. He liked reading in front of the public, and was good at it.
Which is what Cheryl told him when he asked about Liang. “She likes you reading,” she said. “And of course she gets to cuddle with us.”
Surprisingly Jeff had decided to let her have the last Friday off. And in fact the entire two weeks after, with Christmas and New Year’s. That shortened week she trained her replacement and read through a promising book for the imprint. She’d also recommended an old dissident Chinese writer who’d been imprisoned and died in prison during Mao’s cultural revolution in the sixties, but had been popular in Taiwan and for other Chinese who’d fled China, and who hadn’t been translated. Jeff agreed when she read him a chapter she’d translated of his novel, and when she got back in the next year, she and the asshole editor would begin their work in earnest. A full time assistant. An editor in training.
Thus she accompanied Joe and Cheryl to Texas, to places she’d never been but Joe and Cheryl had, especially Austin. So the two older people got to see those places with new eyes. Liang definitely made things better. And it helped that like with Eddie’s performances, Joe’s made her very horny and Joe and Cheryl got to hear her sing their names in several orgasms.
The week before, another woman joined them. Jules, Cheryl’s punk high school girlfriend met them at San Francisco airport. Still in punk rock regalia, with piercings and leather and wild blonde hair, despite her appearance in the conservative world of chemical engineering, Stanford essentially bent over backwards to keep her at her alma mater as a researcher and as an associate professor. She ended up great at both, with her appearance, beautiful despite herself and voluptuous, being as much a lure and an attraction or distraction for boys and a few girls, bonding with her casual yet fascinating teaching style gaining her the highest ratings from her student, except those assholes who didn’t get her.
“Look what I got,” she said to Joe first thing after she and Cheryl embraced and kissed, and stuck out her tongue, showing him her latest piercing, a small ball towards the tip.
“Very nice, Julia,” Joe chuckled, getting a little hard at the possibility, which she felt when she embraced and kissed him just as she had Cheryl.
“You two are going to love my housemates,” she smirked as she grabbed Cheryl’s luggage. She’d met them at the carousel because of all the metal attached to her.
They drove a while to a house about halfway between Palo Alto and Silicon Valley. One of the housemates was a computer geek who developed software and wrote code for an early internet site that would eventually bring him millions of dollars. Him and his family.
It was a really nice modernist ranch house, with modernist furnishing inside. White fabric with chrome and glass. Kind of cold. At least the living room. But other rooms were not.
The master bedroom for instance had a red and silver coloring and an Ecuadorian theme which would have fit in the richest of haciendas. A fantasy of a girl who grew up far too poor to live in such a place, but somehow, despite her poverty and her worse travails coming to America with her mother and little brother, she ended up creating it in the Bay Area of California. Juanita Lopez had become Juanita Frye, married to a very tall, lanky Jewish boy from Brooklyn. With two preschool girls. And a crazy, beautiful punk rock mistress.
Leonard had his own space, even if he actually shared hers and thought it was cool. He had the basement. A clutter of objects to generate new and better and faster software and processing. Servers and monitors and motherboards and chips and housing and wires and things that intensified or slowed down current. Disemboweled computers and reassembled ones. Soldering guns and screwdrivers in a wide diversity of sizes. Creating what appeared to be chaos. Clutter. But Leonard knew where everything was. The basement a model of his brain.
And Jules had three rooms. A small, dark and spiky bedroom. An office jam packed with books and papers with a vintage roll top desk and a remarkably comfortable old hardwood office chair. And a chamber, the only finished part of the basement, called the dungeon.
Both Joe and Cheryl could barely hide their amusement meeting the married couple who had become Jules’s slaves. Leonard was a skinny version of Joe, an inch taller, and Juanita was a swarthy, raven haired version of Cheryl, cute and beautiful and voluptuous and sexy, an inch shorter. The two year old and four year old product of the odd couple seemed to reveal two versions of the best combinations. The two year old was quiet and shy, while the four year old seemed destined to rule the world through careful examination.
“She reminds me of me,” Juanita told the visiting couple in her heavy Hispanic accent. “Or Mama’s description of me.”
Joe and Cheryl had arrived late to the house. They only had a few minutes to converse with the daughters, the oldest somewhat garrulous in her conversation, telling them about her preschool accomplishments and asking about Brooklyn, somehow knowing the borough, her father’s home town, was part of New York City, where the strangers lived. The youngest had been shy, but Joe managed to extract a few words from her. Joe imagined she took after her father, the shy computer geek.
Juanita had just put her daughters to bed and come back to the living room when she made her comparison. Despite her heavy accent, she spoke English well, and had a confidence to her that spoke of a strong will. However that disappeared immediately when Jules growled, “Be quiet Nita. Enough of your lip.” Both Juanita and Leonard bowed their heads as if a switch had been pulled down. “I’m lending you to Joe, Nita. And you to Cheryl Enard. Understood?”
“Yes Mistress,” they both said.
“Good. Now go to the dungeon and take first positions. You will remain in position for as long as your new masters wish. Whenever they get around to you. Go!”
They slunk to the door to the basement and opened it and went down the stairs.
Mei
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