Ivan Horton's Choice Ch. 01

"Okay! Okay!" Ivan answered. "I'll see you then." They hung up.

Ivan took a large breath and let out a big sigh. He told himself that had no one to blame except him for his plight, so he would have grin and bear it.

Ivan couldn't believe how pushy 'those people' were. There had been a few Jewish players on the team. They had seemed alright, but Ivan never got to know them very well. The fraternity setting had a way of insulating a person from multi-cultural contacts. Although Ivan didn't know Rebecca, he knew the type because of her name and College Town address. He was correct in his expectation. She belonged to that other part of the student body that he didn't know very well. He chuckled at Robin's insecure jealousy on Graduation Day. He decided to allow Robin to keep thinking what she would. He had learned long ago that a little insecurity drove girls to try harder.

****************

Ivan shuffled through the library stacks to where the desk assistant told him Rebecca's carrel would be. He approached the tiny study room. Through the glass window on the door he saw a young woman working. He knew instinctively that it was Rebecca. Her appearance matched Ivan's expectation in every way. He knocked on the door. She peered up from behind her glasses with the thick, black frames, silently motioned him in.

"Hi, I'm Ivan Horton." He said. He held out his hand to her. She took it weakly. He was impressed by how thin and bony it felt.

"Rebecca Isaacs," she replied. "Have a seat."

"I'm glad that you're going to help me..." Ivan began, but she cut him off.

"Don't thank me! It's just part of a job that I have to do as a grad student," she stated. Rebecca wanted to avoid any aspect of closeness. "I'm here to help you get through the course, but it's up to you to do the work. I won't do it for you,"

She went on to describe how she would review his class notes with him, and his lab reports before he submitted them.

"The better your class notes and lab reports are, the more I can help you. If you work at as I tell you to, you'll pass. If you can't do that...no promises from me."

To Ivan, she sounded like his football coaches. He resented it in a way—she had no standing to behave as a football coach. He thought again and decided it might work out. It was the passing grade, after all, that he was after, not friendship. In the end, he accepted the arrangement.

"If you're around on Saturday, I can give you some extra help with your lab. I'll be in the lab, myself, checking on my research," she offered. She inwardly winced with regret as soon as she said it. She had taken such pains to lay down the law earlier.

"Thanks, anyway," Ivan said. "I'm supposed to be at my fiancée's house on Long Island this weekend."

Rebecca was relieved, but feigned irritation. "You'd better have that lab done when we meet again on Monday."

Ivan gulped, thinking of the impossibility of completing the lab and pleasing Robin and her family.

"Where on Long Island?" Rebecca queried, suddenly friendly.

"Near Southampton. They have a big place outside of town on the shore."

Rebecca's mood suddenly darkened. She knew where he was talking about, and the kind of people who lived there. They were not her kind, and she didn't care for them.

"I'm from Huntington," she said, assuming that Ivan should know the significance of it. Then she "hmmphed" and returned to her books.

I'll see you after class on Monday in this carrel," she said without looking up at him as he left.

**************

As Ivan drove past the Huntington exit on I-495 he started looking for the cutoff to Route 27. At the same time he started thinking of Rebecca and her obvious disdain for all things 'Southampton'. He knew that Robin and her parents would have the same opinion of the 'Huntington' crowd. He had heard of the civil wars between the east and west halves of Long Island. He had never bothered to understand them. To the best of his knowledge they were fought over some colonies in Westchester County. He also heard that both sides had training camps set up in the Catskills and Poconos.

In deference to Rebecca's admonition, he brought his Biology materials with him. It was a big house. He would find a place to study. It might even convince the Tutlocks of his repentance for his earlier failure. As he pulled up in front of the mansion he saw two men standing to greet them. He recognized them both.

The first was Marsden Tutlock, Robin's father, King of the Tutlock Empire. With him was his younger brother, Benton 'Binky' Tutlock, Crown Prince and co-inheritor. Ivan exited the car and strode to where the brothers stood to pay homage to them.

"Good evening, sir!" he thrust his hand to Robin's father, who took it.

"Hello, Ivan. You know my brother, Benton, of course."

"Call me 'Binky'," the brother said as he grabbed Ivan's hand from his brother. "'Uncle Binky', if you prefer, or soon to be 'uncle', I suppose." It was true; 'Binky' was the brother with the charm.

"Of course! I remember meeting you a few months ago. Nice to see you again." Ivan couldn't bring himself to use the name 'Binky'.

"Well, Ivan," the older brother spoke, "we won't see much of each other this trip, I'm afraid. We're off to the City -- overseas clients, you know. We plan to stay at the club for the weekend."

"Too bad, sir. Good luck with the meeting," Ivan called after them as they piled into the limo that had arrived to collect them. As they didn't answer him, Ivan thought to himself how curious their old-time Ivy League aristocrat accents sounded. To listen to them, one would think that they had some offensive-tasting object in their mouth but were too embarrassed to spit it out. Instead they would roll it from side to side with their tongues, hoping for the object to dissolve.

As the limo drove away, Binky turned to his brother and asked, "Where do you suppose he got a name like 'Ivan'? Sounds rather Slavic, don't you think?"

"Don't know, Benton, I've been wondering about it myself. Perhaps some inquiries are in order."

********************

Dinner with Robin and her mother was casual. They ate a light meal. Both women confessed a need to lose a few pounds to get into their respective wedding dresses. Ivan didn't see a need for either of them to shed any weight, and told them so. It was the right thing to do. They both lapped the compliments of the young man. Robin chattered away about wedding details. Mrs. Tutlock said little.

Beryl Tutlock, Robin's mother, was a taciturn woman of forty-eight. She was a bit shorter than her daughter, but every bit as trim. Her hair and eyes were both brown, unlike Robin's. Looking at her, it was hard to tell her age. Her body appeared younger than her years, but her countenance showed more time. It wasn't that she was sagging; a few tucks could have taken care of that. Her expression showed sadness and cynicism that sometimes accumulates with age.

After dinner and coffee, Beryl went to her room to read. She suggested that Robin and Ivan go for a swim in the pool. It was a little chilly for swimming, however, and they opted for a stroll on the grounds. They ambled slowly along hand-in-hand. Robin kept relating wedding details, either theirs or those of her friends. When they neared the end of their perimeter walk, Ivan turned to Robin.

"I've missed you since you came back home." He leaned over and kissed her; she kissed him back.

"You're sweet, Ivan," she said. "I've missed you, too."

Ivan pressed harder.

"Is there somewhere we can go to be alone?" he asked.

"No!" she replied emphatically. "The servants are everywhere. If they saw us, they would surely tell my parents."

"Would that be so bad?" Ivan asked. "We are engaged, you know."

"That's just an argument that I don't want to have with them right now, Ivan."

"Why don't you come down the hallway to my room after everyone is asleep?" Ivan was resourceful.

Robin turned on her coquette voice. "Well, maybe, if I think that the coast is clear; we'll see. It might be exciting to be so naughty!"

"Try real hard," Ivan insisted, as he remembered how she thought that he was so sexy when his ardor made him aggressive. Ivan continued, "You weren't so timid back at college."

"Oh, Ivan," she countered, "That was there and this is here."

Ivan didn't know what that last remark meant, but knew somehow, that Robin wasn't really coming to his room that night. They walked into the house, and after a few 'I love yous' and passionless kisses they parted for their separate rooms.

Ivan lay in his bed looking at the ceiling, trying to figure out if Robin might be coming or not. He had stripped his clothing off and lay naked under the sheet hoping against hope that he would see her. He was not much for sleeping. He had a lot of coffee on the long drive down, and he had much to think about. After thirty minutes the house was quiet, except for the gentle rush of the breeze blowing in through the open window.

He heard gentle padding steps in the hallway. He assumed that Robin had summoned her courage. He listened as the soft steps methodically approached the end of the hallway on the way to his bedroom. The latch turned; the door slowly opened. The moonlit darkness silhouetted a slim female form that slid through the half opened door. He was sure that it was Robin, but she didn't look the same as usual. The form slowly, deliberately, traced its way across the room to his bed. At last, he realized that it was Beryl, Robin's mother.

Ivan sat up with a start. "Mrs. Tutlock..." Before he could speak more Beryl placed her hand over his mouth to silence him.

"Shhh!" she whispered. "Do you think that Robin is coming to you tonight? Do you think that she has the nerve for it? Ivan, she has neither courage nor love. I didn't, either at her age. This wedding will never come off, or if it does it will be over in a few years. I'll leave it to you to figure that out later." She released her hand from over his mouth.

She looked down at Ivan, who sat shocked and motionless in the bed. His lower half was covered by the sheet, but his torso was on display to her. She passed her tongue over her lips, and then spoke again.

"I promised myself that if I ever had this chance, I wouldn't waste it. Marsden is in the New York, in bed with 'who-knows', and Robin is sleeping. You're right here and so am I."

Ivan was as confused as any young man could be. Could all this be true, or maybe a test set up by Robin and her mother? He had never had a woman nearly as old as Beryl.

She saw the consternation enveloping him.

"Don't worry about Robin," she said. "She will understand," she reassured him. To herself she said, "Someday, she will understand."

She turned to Ivan and swept back the sheet that covered his lower half. She smiled to see his erection starting. Beryl threw off her robe. She wore a full length negligee that cradled her breasts and hugged her slender form. Ivan couldn't make out the color in the semi-darkness. He had little time to sort out the details as Beryl quickly lifted the nightgown over her head. She was nude. The next second she was on the bed alongside him.

She pushed Ivan's chest until he was flat on his back again. Her hands roamed roughly over his toned, buff torso. She extended them downward feeling the muscles in his thighs and flanks. She had coveted them for so long. She was determined that her daughter would share with her. She, like Ivan, took what she wanted without asking.

"You're going to ride me and pound my bones," she hissed at him. "Work me over! I'll take you to places where you've never been. You'll think that Robin is a nun! "

She climbed on top of Ivan, straddling him, and her mouth devoured his. At first he thought to stop her out of loyalty to his betrothed, but his past week of celibacy and Robin's earlier refusal blocked his conscience. He threw his arms around Beryl as she thrust her tongue into his mouth. She rubbed her body and breasts against his, reveling in the feel of his hardened muscles against her silky skin.

Ivan responded with his tongue in her mouth and reached his hands down to test the firmness of her flanks and buttocks. He was pleasantly surprised. Her quality rivaled Robin's, perhaps surpassing her in some ways. Certainly, the older woman was more adept at cutting loose from her inhibitions as her less-practiced daughter.

Beryl felt Ivan's hardened penis pressing against her belly. His response inflamed her. She rose up from their embrace, still straddling, and she kneeled over him. The raging woman grabbed the headboard and placed her dripping sex over Ivan's face and then sat down on him.

Ivan thrust his tongue into her vagina, then all around her vulva, searching for her pleasure. He found the swollen bulb, licked around it and sucked it between his lips. The sensation spun Beryl out of control. She raised herself up and down to increase the throbbing. Ivan was able to suck in some air on her upstroke.

Beryl released her hold on the headboard, extending her arms over head. She bounced up and down on his face, arms flailing, like a rodeo rider on a Brahma bull. Soon, her orgasm started. Ivan was barely able to hear her with Beryl's thighs covering his ears. She exhaled three visceral sounds a few seconds apart. After the third, she collapsed her hands back down to the headboard, her body slouched over. As she rested atop Ivan, she secreted a salty and bitter fluid from her vagina that flowed over Ivan's face. Ivan wondered when he would be allowed some air. As he was about to be forced to lift her off of him, she rose up and resumed her former place lying on top. She started licking her emitted fluid from his face.

Between passes with her tongue she spoke to him in a whisper, "Don't go to sleep—we're not done by a long shot!" Ivan didn't feel very sleepy at that moment. She rappelled her way down his muscular frame, rubbing her breasts roughly on him as she did so. She wanted to taste him. Making no pretense of gentleness, Beryl swallowed Ivan's length. It was one those 'favors' that Robin had promised to save for the honeymoon. Her head bobbed up and down, her cheeks drawn in against her cheekbones as she created a vacuum and scraped her tongue along the underside of his glans. Ivan thrust his pelvis up to push the sensitive nerves of his crown closer to the surface. He sought his ejaculation and Beryl tasted the first drops of clear fluid seeping from him. She released him and rose up on all fours and savored the taste of it, letting the pearl drops roll to all regions of her tongue. Ivan thought that she would resume her fellatio; she did not. She had what she wanted. She moved forward to mount him.

Without ado Beryl impaled herself on Ivan's rigid erection. She took his full length, moving up and down on him. As she would reach the downward zenith of her flight she arched her back into a concave arc that exposed her labia more. As she started on her outward path she rubbed her vulva against Ivan's pubic bone and nest of pubic hair, roughly scraping her pulsing womanhood.

It all served to reset the onrush of orgasm. Beryl sought to tighten her vagina, so she wedged her own thighs inside Ivan's and started humping with short, quick strokes. Ivan tired of the passive role. He wrapped his powerful legs around hers and captured her buttocks with his oversized hands. She was imprisoned in his muscular grip. He gripped her tightly with his legs. As he pulled her more deeply onto him with his hands at her backside, he thrust up into her as hard as he could, through the inner muscles that she had tightened around him.

Beryl was enthralled at his powerful filling of her. Her orgasm was rushing closer. She fought it off to preserve the nearly unbearable approach. As he continued pumping into her, her mouth gaped as if to scream, but sound eluded her.

All at once, as she was seconds from cresting, Ivan lifted her with his powerful arms. Before she could fathom the switch, she was on her back, legs splayed, Ivan entering her drenched canal. He supported his upper body on his steely arms and imposed himself into her to the hilt. The crown of his penis bumped the back of her vagina. He thrust once, twice, three times. She pulled Ivan's chest down to her face to cover her shrieks of ecstasy. Ivan thrust again and poured his semen into her, leaving himself in there until all of his fluid drained. Then, he dismounted and lay alongside her.

They lay together in recovery, not speaking. After several minutes Beryl rose out of the bed, picked up her discarded negligee and put on her robe.

"Thank you, Ivan. You'll make a fine son-in-law," she said, and then quietly left his room.

As he watched her depart his chamber Ivan hoped that Robin would spend the summer in tutelage from her mother.

Ivan was late for breakfast the next morning. The two women sat at the veranda table together, silently sizing one another up.

Robin broke the ice. "Sleep well, Mother?"

"Thank you for asking, dear. Yes, after some 'tossing and turning'."

"When it comes to Ivan, Mother, please keep in mind who owns him and who loans him," the daughter asserted.

"I shall, dear, I shall." Her mother answered. Her daughter's warning was strong words with a hollow ring. Beryl knew that she could wrest the deed to Ivan at her choosing. Thus, the younger woman ceded control of her groom with the face-saving, brazen caveat. The two fell silent with secret, knowing looks at each other as Ivan appeared on the veranda to join them.

***************

Ivan spent the morning preparing his Biology lab report. The work served a number of good purposes. It got him out of the way of Robin and her prattling on about wedding plans. It also kept him away from Beryl, where a detected glance between them might betray their meeting of the prior night. Finally, he made sure to avoid the wrath of his tutor, Rebecca, for not having done it. Oh, yes—by the way, the report was due on Tuesday.

At noon they had lunch and at one thirty they changed for the pool party. It was a 'let's meet Ivan' party for Beryl's side of the family and Robin's high school friends. Marsden and Binky were still in Manhattan with clients.

It was an uneventful party at the start. There was a lot of handshaking and small talk. Ivan was quizzed on his bona-fides as a future provider and everyone gushed over his athletic fame. Robin's friends huddled in groups and tittered over her fiancé's football physique as he sat in his gym shorts and tee-shirt having a beer with Robin's male cousins.

Robin was 'dressed' in a flowered bikini that put her assets on display. She wore platform sandals that rose her height above the other women and caused her posture to shift so that the supple muscles from her 'glutes' to the bottom of her calves were flexed and shown at their best. Robin and Ivan posed for some pictures. Their perfect bodies complimented one another. The hired photographer thought that they appeared like two thoroughbred horses selected for breeding. After the formal photo session the group of younger men started passing a football while the photographer roamed the grounds for candid shots of the party. As the cameraman approached the young men, Robin called Ivan over to her.

She sidled up close to him and said under her breath, "Ivan, why don't you take off your shirt for the pictures?"

Ivan returned a confused look to her.

"Your shirt, Ivan, take it off" she smiled as she commanded him

"Oh, c'mon, Robin, I don't want to show off like that."

"Ivan", she repeated in an angry hush through bared teeth, "Take...off...your...shirt...for...the... pictures."

Ivan thought an ugly scene between the two 'lovebirds' would lack what the Tutlocks would have wanted, so he complied. As the camera snapped away he glanced about at the women ogling him and the men eying him with contempt. He realized that at that moment his value to Robin was measured per pound. He was ashamed that he had allowed himself to be humiliated.