tagMatureDerailed Ch. 01

Derailed Ch. 01

byUncle South Loop©

Sally, my regular assistant knew. Whenever she was out, I emphatically repeat my standing order to each temporary replacement. Calls from Mrs. Beatrice Hollingsworth Smyth were to be given the highest priority and it was extremely imperative, even if I were on another call, I was to be immediately interrupted and notified even if I was out of the office or at home sick

If they asked, I'd tell them only that Mrs. Smyth was a valued client as well as grandmother of my college roommate and closest friend. The real truth was that she was the source of my livelihood and success. It was my most guarded secret.

I met Mrs. Smyth my sophomore year in college, when I'd accepted Jeff's invitation to spend break at his parent's home. As her grandson's friend, she'd accepted me with more than her usual well-bred courtesy. Our relationship deepened when Jeff and I continued on to graduate school together and after when we both accepted jobs at J. P. Brighten Investments.

After serving the mandatory years of apprenticeship, Jeff wound up in the Investment Bond department. Knowing my first choice was being a stockbroker, he told his grandmother and she became THE client I needed to get started. Mrs. Smyth, as matriarch of an old eastern seaboard family, was very wealthy. Our personal tie, added to my need to establish myself, provided more than enough incentive for me to work hard.

Recognizing my good fortune, I placed my personal life on hold and devoted all my waking hours to my work. My efforts paid off. Mrs. Smyth's portfolio outperformed both industry benchmarks and the firm's internal standards. My patron was very appreciative and was soon sending me referrals. Five years later, my combined portfolios totaled $200 million with my commissions far exceeding the personal ten-year goal I'd set for myself.

At thirty years old, I'd achieved financial success that many older brokers still only dreamt of. Though I'd achieved professional success, it's come at the expense of having a personal life. I wanted both and it bothered me that the one excluded the other.

My dilemma remained constantly in my thoughts. Lately, it always surfaced in the few sparse minutes I allowed each day for personal reflection. I hadn't been able to shape a plan for the how and the when for getting to my personal objective.

Monday, I was four hours into my normal six-teen hour day on when Mrs. Smyth called, "Good morning, Mrs. Smyth, how are you?"

"I'm just fine, Garrett. Thank you. How are you?"

"Great! The Dow's already 30 up points today, I'm betting it'll go higher. You'll be pleased with the results when it does."

"I'm sure I will, you've never let me down. But, I'm not calling for an update. I may have another client for you, but I'm not totally sure it'd be wise for you to take her on."

Her remark left me somewhat puzzled. Unlike my other clients, due to our relationship, our calls were usually a mix of business and personal matters. My family was mid-western middle class and I'd learned to tell which of the two she was on from the tone of her voice. This time, I wasn't sure and asked, "Why?"

"Because I think of you as more than my broker and the last thing I'd ever want is to do anything that might hurt you. I'm not as familiar with this woman as the others I've sent to you and she's closer to your age than any I've sent you."

"I don't understand. You know I design investment strategies to personally fit each of my clients."

"Just like you, Garrett, always the professional. It's what I admire about you, but in this instance, I fear it's what makes you vulnerable."

"Vulnerable?"

"Yes. You're so dedicated to your work that you don't get out much. Are you dating anyone yet?"

"No. But, I'm trying Mrs. Smyth, I really am." I lied.

"It's OK, Garrett. I believe you. It's not just that I'm nosey. I'm just concerned for your welfare. And, getting back to the point, the prospect I've in mind is an extremely attractive divorcee, late thirties and there are some rumors floating around about her."

"Rumors? Financial problems?"

"No, I'm certain she's very solid financially. The rumors pertain to her life style. Specifically, to her sexual conduct"

I smiled in replying, "I appreciate your concern as I do our friendship. But, I may not be as naïve as you think. Other than you, of course, I follow the old rule of never mixing business with pleasure. It's work for me and I've no desire to stop. Should I call her or will she call me?"

"I'll give her your card, but only if you promise to be careful."

"I promise I'll be careful...VERY careful. If things don't feel right, I'll make some excuse for not taking her on." "Fine, Garrett. Just remember what I've told you and keep me posted. Her name is Amelia Thorne."

"I'll remember, Mrs. Smyth. I will. Amelia like the lost woman aviator pilot"

"Yes."

I hung up the phone, curious about Mrs. Smith's comments. Though well into her seventies, Mrs. Smyth had lost nothing mentally. I was certain her description of Ms. Thorne would prove true. But, I'd some doubt of the rumors for I knew how malicious the very rich could be overly judgmental of one of their own. It was highly probable that the rumors were planted by women who envied the youth and looks of Ms Thorne.

I told Sally to send Mrs. Smyth a case of the expensive port I knew she was fond of, dictating the wording of the card to be included. While I was secure in our relationship and we'd never brought the subject up, I was sure she was well aware that she was the major source of my success. I hoped she'd deem the gift more as one of friendship than of homage.

Amelia Thorne called Tuesday and made an appointment to meet at my office that afternoon. Our phone conversation was short and wholly business-like. I was expecting her to have a sultry sexy voice but she'd been brief and her tone was reserved leaving me to expect a normal arms-length relationship.

Sally came to my office at 1:30, instead of using the phone to announce Ms. Thorne's arrival. Her face wore a beaming smile in announcing, "I know you're REALLY going to want to sign this one up."

I smiled back in response, "I was told she was an attractive lady. But, looks aren't are hardly a new client consideration."

"This one might be an exception."

Entering the reception area, I found both Mrs. Smyth's and Sally's assessments were completely accurate. One quick glance at her jewelry and clothing convinced me of her wealth. Taking her fully in I thought that if there were just one single woman created to be adorned in only the finest, that woman would was Amelia Thorne. She was stunningly beautiful. I walked directly to her and held out my hand, "Ms. Thorne, I'm Garret Tomlin. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Her eyes met mine as she firmly clasped my hand, "A pleasure to meet you too, Garret. Please call me Amelia."

She rose from the chair and seemed to scan my entire body as I was admiring hers. She'd her dark brown hair drawn back in a French twist accentuating her striking features of deep blue eyes, full lips and a creamy complexion.

Her beige low-cut V-necked dress appeared to be of soft cashmere. Flawlessly tailored to cover and tastefully reveal her appealing woman's shape beneath. The dress ended above the knees of her well-formed, white-stocking clad legs.

I turned slightly and extended my arm out towards the hallway I'd come from, "My office is this way. Can I get you something to drink while we talk...coffee...soda...water?"

"No thank you, nothing now. Maybe later."

Walking down the hall, Amelia drew stares from all my fellow employees that we passed. Obviously accustomed to long looks, she strode smoothly along with a smile the only sign of acknowledgement to the double takes. I enjoyed some spill over attention and was sure there'd be queries later from my co-workers.

I began with Amelia as I did with all new clients, providing the usual information on J. P. Brighten and supplying reports showing the firm's and my own ability to outperform the market. She listened attentively and asked appropriate questions. When I finished the "canned" portion of our meeting, she said, "Garrett, I've $20 million to invest."

She waited, but I didn't make any reaction to the figure. Instead, I calmly responded, "Amelia, the firm, and I as your broker, would naturally be very happy to have you as a client. Can I provide you with some references?"

"No, Mrs. Smyth and a few of her friends have given me all the references I need. They speak very highly of you."

"That's always good to hear. I'll need two things from you to get things rolling. One is the standard client contract and the other is a questionnaire that'll help design an investment strategy tailored just for your needs." I bent forward in sliding both forms the front edge of my desk before her.

Instead of picking them up, Amelia leaned forward to look at both. Her dress top billowed out giving me a good look down inside. Her half bra barely covered her nipples leaving the top arcs of her surrounding red circles peeking out above. She made a quick scan that ended so abruptly that I was caught looking. Embarrassed, I snapped back as fast as I could. Instead of being offended, she settled back in her chair with a smile of amusement.

I held my composure through a few passing seconds of silence before she commented, "I'll need run the contract by my attorney. I'm sure it'll be fine and I'll be able to sign. I should have it and the completed questionnaire in a few days."

"Good. Please call me if you've any problems. Any other questions?"

"Yes, I've several about you. They're personal. I'm sure you'll understand my need to learn about someone I'd be intrusting the major potion of my assets with."

"Of course. Ask away."

Amelia glanced as she began, "You've only art hanging in you office, there's no personal. Are you married or seeing someone seriously?"

I thought it best to lie, "Not at the present. I was, but it ended amicably some time ago. She and I went our separate ways."

"That happens, to some of us more than others. Do you know that I'm divorced?"

I continued my deception, "No, I didn't. I'm sorry. While I've been neither married or divorced, I've heard divorce can be very unpleasant."

"It can be. Mine was. But, once it was finally over and done with, I learned that life after divorce very rewarding. There were no children to cause complication. Fortunately, I've remained financially comfortable and enjoyed excellent health with no need re-open the settlement."

"That's good to hear. Now that we're on the subject, I have to ask because it's not on the questionnaire and could be important for your investment strategy. Is there a chance you'd be remarrying in the near future?"

Still wearing her amusing smile she answered, "No chance now and I feel it's unlikely that I'd even consider marriage again for at least 5 years. I enjoy being unattached and completely free to do whatever I want." She hesitated as if talking time to carefully choose her words before continued, "Forgive me, Garrett. I didn't mean to sound cynical. I believe marriage works for some people very well, but not for everyone. It's just NOT for me now or in the near future. I'm having too much fun which I'm sure, with you being an attractive young single man, you understand."

"I do." I answered quickly, responding as any male would in receiving a compliment from such a beautiful and exceptionally attractive woman.

"I'm SURE you do. I don't want to bore you with the story of my life, but my divorce opened up a whole new world for me. I'd led a very sheltered youth and was a naïve virgin when I married. It was only after it was over, that I learned how good sex could be. I really LIKE having money, but I LOVE fucking. By staying unattached, I can fuck anyone, anywhere, choose, anytime I want."

So shocked by both her statement and the nonchalant manner of delivery, I could neither speak nor keep from showing surprise on my face. She stared at me with her amusing smile thru the ensuing silence only to finally break it with, "I've one more request, it's personal and I ask out of my overly cautious nature. I need to be sure that you're as healthy as you look. There's a service I've used called On Site Medical Care. If you don't mind, I'd like them to come and give you a physical. They'll do it here in your office at your convenience. I'll pick up the charges, of course. Will you do it?"

Recovering from shock and thinking of the $20MIL, I agreed, "No objection here. In fact, it's been a while since my last physical. I could use one."

"Good. I'll have them call you and I'll get going on the contract and questionnaire. I've no more questions. Is there anything we need cover?"

"No, that'll do it for now."

Amelia drew more long stares as I walked her out. My mind was still spinning from our meeting. Needing a little time to clear it, I purposely nearly ran back to my office to avoid being stopped by any colleges who'd seen me with her. I made it back and closed my office door.

I needed a full hour to sort through my rambling thoughts of Amelia, her shocking statements, her unusual request, and Mrs. Smyth's warning. Refocusing, I followed standard company procedure and ordered a credit report on Amelia. I worked late to make up for lost time.

On Site Medical Care called me the next morning and gave me a physical, including drawing blood samples in 30 minutes that afternoon. Amelia's credit report arrived later to verify she had $20 Mil and showing where it was held. I felt certain I could beat the return her funds were now earning and had services create an account in her name.

In addition to liquid funds, Amelia owned a home in Wellington and a condo in the city. I used a map and found Wellington was a small suburb on the far fringe of the city. I recognized the condo address and knew it was in a very exclusive area.

I opened a new client file folder, wrote "Amelia" on the tab and put it in my desk drawer. I didn't touch it for five days when the market decided to take a wild roller coaster ride, bouncing up and down several hundred points. I worked long hours Wednesday thru Saturday, spent Sunday resting at home and returned Monday for two more hectic days.

Wednesday the market finally stabilized and I went home at 5:00 to get some needed rest. The calm remained into Thursday. Amelia called shortly after 1:30, "Hi, Garret. It's me, Amelia. How are you?"

"I'm fine today, Amelia. The market's been wild for days, but has finally settled down. How are you?"

"I'm doing well, thank you. I'm calling to let you know my attorneys have given their OK on our contract. But, I'm having some difficulties with your questionnaire."

"I've the time now if you want to go over them."

"We could. I'm staying at my condo downtown and, if you can come over, we could take care of both tonight. Are you free?"

Immediately feeling excited about seeing her again, I quickly accepted, "I'm free. What time?" I let her give me the address I already knew. Hanging up, I was excited, having already calculated her account would boost in my commission income by 20%. Amelia, being who and what she was, offered a professional challenge and a personal one. I was confident of meeting the first and a little unsure of the second.

Arriving promptly at 6:00, I felt prepared to expect her little ploys purposely meant to rattle me. But, when Amelia opened her door with her hair down, wearing a long, silk robe under clearly showing she was braless, I faltered. She caught the admiring sweep of my eyes to give me her amusing smile. I pretended ignorance and passed in avoiding brushing against her in the narrow entry hall to her living room sneaking a single sideways glance at her jiggling firm breasts.

I made the obligatory compliment on her condo, refused her offer of a martini and asked for a glass of water instead. My choice made her lose her smile for a second. It quickly returned as she complied with my choice and poured vodka on ice for her.

The two documents lay on the coffee table and we sat, with the sides of our legs touching, on the nearby sofa. Amelia waited to sign the contract until I'd arrived. The questionnaire, basic to formulating her investment plan, took time to go over. I somehow managed to keep focused despite our touching legs, inhaling her scent and her frequent body shifts – brushing against me in leaning forward and sitting back while I remained hunched over the papers with my forearms resting on my legs.

An hour later, when nearing the final stage of the process, my concentration started to wane. Amelia's shifting had loosened her silk robe to uncover her legs to mid-thigh and slide up above her robe's belt. When she now leaned forward, the material billowed out giving me a clear view bared breasts.

Amelia stayed bent forward for the last few questions and seemed to relish seeing me unable to refrain from taking several peeks at her exposed nakedness. She pushed closer, slid her arm under mine and started rubbing my inner thigh. I responded and saw her eyes dart to my crouch to see that I'd an erection straining against my shorts and pants. My composure was giving way. I rushed us through the last few questions and she asked, "Are we done?"

"For tonight, yes. I'll need to open your account and draft a format investment plan that you'll need to sign. To speed things up I could fax it to you, answer any questions you might have over the phone you could sign it and fax it back to me. I assumed you'll be transferring funds by wire and will leave you with wiring instructions"

Her hand rubbed inner thigh more firmly as she commented, "Good, then we're finished. Sure you don't want a drink now, to toast our new relationship?"

"No, thank you. I really should be going so I can start in early tomorrow on the paperwork for your account." It was a conveniently valid excuse - one I hoped would enable me to make a quick escape even wit ha hard-on.

Gathering the papers from the table into my brief case, Amelia tightened her grip to keep me from standing. In a taunting tone, she said, "I know your clients appreciate your devotion to their needs, but you should take time to 'smell the roses'. After all, you've landed my account. Since you won't celebrate with a drink, I've something else you might like to do even more."

Leaning in to kiss me, her hand covered my erection and stroked my hardness. Pressing harder, she opened my mouth, snaked her tongue in to lick my lips and explore my mouth. My resistance dissolved along with the thought of escape.

Amelia suddenly broke off, sprang up and let her robe slide off. Seeing her completely naked above me, I gasped and fell back into the sofa. With her amusing smile, she looked down and continued, "We're both adults, both our recent blood test were totally and I know you want me as much as I want you. Say it for me, Garrett. Say you want to fuck me."

I cried out, "Yes!!!!"

"Yes what, Garrett?"

Yes, I want to fuck you! Please!"

Amelia beamed in sheer delight, spread her legs and dropped her knees to the sofa on either side of my legs saying, "Good, Garrett, good! I've been wet for the last hour."

Creeping forward, she sat back on my legs and leaned forward to kiss me again. I felt her tugs removing my tie, unbuttoning and pulling out my shirttails. She brushed my bare chest before pressing into me. I felt her nipples squish against me as she kissed harder. Pushing and rubbing into me sparked my own desire.

I swiped my hands down the soft bare skin of Amelia's sides and across her back. She broke away, took my hands in hers and brought them over her breasts saying, "Please, my tits are begging for attention."

I swathed and squeezed her supple twins then took her nipples between the tips of my thumbs and fingers. She did the same to mine. Both sets hardened from our tweaking. She bent to suck mine. In response, I pinched her fully swollen tips.

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