Life At Islands Estates Ch. 15

"We'll be back in an hour. I feel like buying a guitar," I said, as I finished writing the check for the rings. I also wrote two more checks for a thousand each and left the 'Pay to:' line blank and handed them to the lady. She carefully folded the two blank checks in half and slipped them into her braseirre, blushing as she did so.

We left the store and drove over to U.S. 1 and S.R. 40 to the music store where I bought my first guitar, so many years earlier. We walked along the rows of beautiful shiny instruments. So many colors and styles to choose from, with each having it's own sound and personality. An interesting, sunburst guitar caught my eye and I picked it off the rack and carried it to the sound room, where a nice young salesman plugged me in to a monster Vox, Super Beatle amplifier. This particular guitar had nine strings, the three treble strings being tuned the same as a twelve-string folk style guitar, but the three bass strings remained singular. I checked the tune quickly, by ear and cranked up the volume and squeezed a high double-pickin' lead riff from the fine Framus, which is imported from Germany, guitar.

The double string effect gave the sound of more than one guitar playing. Very nice indeed. The big British amplifier was equipped with the latest reverb system, which gave a monstrous echo effect. I sounded like you were in a gigantic hall instead of the practice room. I bought both the guitar and the amplifier and loaded them in the Nomad.

Camille and Rita both had that 'He's only a child and we have to accept him because he doesn't know any better,' look on their faces on the return trip to the jewelers. I had all I could do to keep a straight face. I felt absolutely great. I had overcome a problem that had been digging at me for months and I had just dumped seventeen hundred bucks on a guitar and amp that I really didn't need. Shit, I was happy for the first time in weeks. Next to getting laid, spending my dad's money was my favorite thing to do in the world.

We collected the rings and after we had driven back up A-1-A several miles, I pulled over in a roadside parking area on the beach. We got out and walked down on the beach. I sat on the damp sand with one of the girls on either side of me. I took the engagement ring out of the velvet box and placed it on Camille's finger.

"I meant what I said before. I love you both best. And I want us to always be together. I want it to be like we're all marrying each other. Deal?" I asked.

They both hugged me and said, "Deal."

We walked back to the car arms around each other and Life At Islands Estates was about to get better.

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We drove back to the house and were met at the door be dad and Louise, who were very interested in what was going on. I took dad by the arm and spelled the whole thing out to him. He agreed with me that I was nuts, but he said that if that's what we wanted, he was all for it. About this time I heard a shriek coming from the kitchen and I rushed in to see what had happened. Rita, Marie, Louise and Camille were all dancing around in a big tangle of arms and legs. I guessed that meant the cat was out of the bag and everybody was in accordance.

Dinner had been ready for hours and we all seated ourselves in the dining room. Dad uncorked a bottle of fifteen-year-old champagne and toasted the three of us and wished us well. I returned the toast to him and Jan and we all drank of the wine. We ate and drank more wine and had a great evening. I was dead tired and excused myself to get a shower and some sleep. Camille tended to Caroline and came downstairs with Rita and I to have a bath and go to bed. I told them that after Sunday, we would clear dad's old furniture out of his bedroom and remodel it for us. I remember they were talking about what they wanted to do as I drifted off to sleep.

Friday dawned and the girls were up and running at daybreak. I stayed in the bed long after they had departed. I heard Caroline's little voice as she clambered across the studio and into my room. Camille helped her up on the bed and she snuggled up to me and settled down to take a nap. I stayed with her for over an hour, loving the feeling of having her close to me.

Camille returned and Caroline stirred and sat up. She pulled on my goatee and giggled. She tried to talk but all I could recognize was "Daaa, Daaa, Daaa." Camille sat on the bed and Caroline crawled over to her. I rolled over and kissed Camille on the knee.

She tousled my hair and said, "I love you, Cool. We're going to do just fine."

"I know, Brown Sugar. We're gonna be great," I answered.

I got out of bed and dressed, after Camille and Caroline had gone in search of the ever-necessary diaper change. Today's towel selection was blue, which was a great improvement over yesterday's pink motif. I had missed my morning cup of scalding coffee, which was always on my nightstand when I woke up. As I stepped out into the studio, there stood my gorgeous sister Dianne, holding my stone mug.

"You looking for this, Cowboy?" she asked.

"Screw the coffee," I said. "I'm looking for you."

Dianne sat the cup on the bar and crashed into my arms. We kissed and groped like old lovers, which I guess we were. Finally, breaking the hug we sat on the sofa and I sucked on the coffee while she filled me in on all the latest news from The Big Apple. I brought her up to date on our development plans and then explained, in detail, about Rita Camille and me. She listened intently and smiled when I said I loved them both and wanted to be with them both.

"Don't you ever tell me I'm kinky, or perverted again. You three are the authors of the book," said Dianne.

"Just being honest with ourselves," I replied.

"Not to change the subject, Little Brother, but wait until you get a load of Rita's mother. She is one piece of work." Dianne winked as she spoke. "This one makes Lisa Holiday look like a choir girl."

"I can't wait," I said.

The door from the stairway opened and Rita bounded into the room with her twin brothers and her mother right behind. The boys quickly stepped forward and shook my hand and congratulated me on the impending matrimony. I looked past them to the face just over Rita's shoulder. I was stunned to see a tall, severely made-up Jacqueline Kennedy look-a-like, with the black flipped up hair, too much eye shadow and powder, and puffy pink lip-gloss. But the similarity ended there.

This bimbo had factory built forty-inch boobs tucked into a soft pink sweater, three sizes too small and no bra, shiny pink satin pedal pushers, that surely had to have been painted on, and clear plastic spikes with no toes and no hose. She even carried a clear plastic purse, which displayed all of the contents for everyone to see, including the little round birth-control pill case.

Rita was embarrassed for her mother and the boys seemed uneasy. I stepped past the boys and Rita and took the woman's hand and brought the back of it up to my lips and kissed her lingeringly.

"I'm charmed. Rita, introduce me to you sister," I said softly.

"Mama, this is Virgil. Virgil, Sandra, my mother," Rita said coldly.

"Honey, she's absolutely precious," I oozed in my best southern drawl. "Sandra Darlin', can I get you something to wash the dust from the road away?"

All eyes in the room were on us, and a hush fell over the crowd, as the tacky woman said in an almost little girl voice, "Maybe a nice cup of tea?"

"Well you just come on over here and sit on the sofa, and let me see what I can do for you." I said, taking Sandra by the hand and leading her to the sofa.

Safely seated, she searched her purse for a cigarette, and a lighter. I busied myself with a teakettle and water on the small range in the kitchenette. Found a nice china cup and a box of Earl Grey. I spooned a quantity of the dark leaves into the infuser and waited for the kettle to boil. The others had all departed and only Sandra and I remained in the room. I kept stealing glances across the room at Sandra and wondered what her story was. Rita had told me nearly nothing about her except that she liked her booze. Hell, I liked my booze too, but I tried never to get tight. I hated the feeling in the morning.

"So, Virgil," said Sandra.

"Please, call me Cool," I interrupted.

"So, Cool, then. What do you want from my daughter?" Sandra asked.

I walked over to the sofa and sat next to her. I looked her dead in the eye and said, "I love your daughter. She loves me. I ask for nothing more."

"She doesn't have a penny to her name. And she can't do anything," Sandra complained. "And besides you already have a kid with the black girl. Why don't you marry her?"

"I can't. She's my half-sister. They have laws about that," I answered.

The teakettle had started to whistle so I got up to pour the scalding water over the infuser into a clay teapot, to steep. I returned to the sofa.

"Your sister? You've been fucking your sister? Are you so sick that you made your own sister pregnant?" Sandra asked incredulously.

"So it would seem," I answered. "And I suppose you don't know anything about your twins, there?"

"Oh, I know all about their perverted little ways. Couple of little panty-boys. I had higher hopes for Rita," She whined as she drew on her cigarette.

"Those two have put smiles on a lot of faces," I said rising to pour Sandra her tea. "Sugar?"

"One, please." she said.

I placed the cup on a saucer and handed it to Sandra with a silver teaspoon. I sat next to her again, leaning back and crossing my legs. She sat erect, on the edge and sipped her hot tea from the cup.

"Tell me about Rita's father," I said.

Sandra looked down at the floor. "I don't know where he is, nor do I care. He's been gone for over fifteen years."

"Sorry to hear that," I said.

"He was a shit anyways," Sandra said. "Nice house."

"Dad and grandpa built it over forty years ago. He gave it to me when he retired and moved south. I'll take you out on the river if we have enough time." I said.

Sandra put the saucer and cup down on the table and turned to face me.

"I just worry about Rita. She's not real smart and she never learned how to do anything except cook and clean house. I had to work to take care of us and she took care of the boys and I just worry." Sandra was wringing her hands as she spoke.

"What do you do?" I asked.

She sat up straight and puffed out her chest and said proudly, "I'm a registered cosmetologist, and I do nails. And I used to dance."

How did I know this?

"Well be proud of Rita," I said showing her my hands. "Rita does nails too."

She took my hands and inspected Rita's handiwork. "She's good," she said.

"Sandra, Honey, you have no idea just how good Rita really is," I said.

I decided that if this woman would allow it, her daughter could make her beautiful. And I'd bet anything she would feel better about herself too. But I liked her trashy look. Just like I liked the way Lisa dressed. I thought about maybe I should write a song about trashy women.

"Why don't you tell me how good she is?" Sandra asked.

"Well, it's like this. Rita does things with her hands that make me feel real good. And she's really good in bed," I said.

I noticed that Sandra's nipples had grown stone hard under the tight pink sweater. I took her hand in mine and turned it over so I could see and feel her palm. She was soft, just like Rita.

"I'll bet you've got good hands too," I whispered.

Sandra had started to tremble slightly. I held her warm hand and softly stroked the back of it with my fingers. Her eyes fluttered and then closed for a few seconds before opening again.

"Why are you doing that?" Sandra asked, barely a whisper.

"Does it feel good?" I asked.

"Yes!" she said.

"Do you want me to stop?" I asked.

"No." she said.

I looked up past her face and saw Rita standing on the bottom step, watching us. She made a circle with her thumb and first finger, and held it up so I could see it. She was smiling from ear to ear and she mouthed the words "Fuck her" to me and quietly pulled the door closed.

She closed her eyes again and leaned back on the sofa. I leaned forward and kissed her softly on the forehead. I lingered with my lips just barely making contact. I pulled away slightly and was looking at her closed eyelids when she opened them. I saw and felt heat. Our lips came together in a crushing kiss. Wide open mouthed and wet. Sandra wanted to play. Her hands came up to my chest. I grabbed at her big titties with both hands, squeezing hard. Her pelvis pushed up to meet mine as I rolled over on top of her. She growled into my mouth.

I was not being gentle when I pulled the sweater up and over her hairdo, and attacked her silicone-enhanced tits with my mouth. We wrestled on the sofa and suddenly rolled off onto the floor. She was on top of me tugging at my shirt while I tried to reach around and slide the zipper, which was on the back of her pants, down.

Sandra had a few more pounds on her than her clothes were designed to hold and I finally just slipped my fingers in the waistband on her pants and jerked the zipper apart. The tight pink satin ripped beside the zipper as I continued to pull. The woman stood up and shucked the remains of her pants off and tossed then aside. Reaching for my zipper, she jerked it down and drug my slacks off over my feet and literally fell on my stiff cock with her mouth. I pushed her off and crawled around so I could get my face in her snatch and went to town, lapping and groveling like a pig.

Her face descended down to the bottom and she started to voraciously suck me off. I wouldn't last long like this so I pushed off of the hot female and turned around and slammed myself into her flailing body. Sandra was a moaner, and did she ever wail. I wondered if we could be heard upstairs. Each time I slammed into her she howled like a wolf, pulling me by my hips trying to get me in deeper. We bucked and humped and pounded each other. I made it last as long as I could but suddenly, the flood gates burst and I was shooting huge wads of thick semen into her sloppy hole.

As quickly as I came, so did Sandra, wailing at the top of her lungs for me to fuck her harder. There wasn't any more left in me so I just collapsed on top of her and let her hump herself out. She finally gave up and lay still under me.

My shrinking pecker popped out of her slick pussy and just hung down against her ass hole.

Sandra opened her eyes, and said; "I know why Rita wants to marry you now. She likes that big cock."

I pushed up off of her and her hand came up to grip my slimy cock, which hung over her as I stood there. She milked me with her hand drawing a large drop of remaining cum out of me. She brought her fingers to her mouth and licked them off. Sandra was a slut. I love it.

I called upstairs and asked Rita to join us for a minute. Sandra had retreated into the bathroom. Upon entering the room I announced to Rita, "I would describe your mother's appearance to be somewhat disheveled, at the moment. You may want to help her tidy up just a bit."

Rita was beaming. "Damn, Cool, I heard her at the top of the stairs, he fucks like a wild woman, doesn't she?"

"Man, I'll say. But she needs some new clothes. She's hot, but we gotta dress her up!" I said. "I'll call Pacetti's on St. George St. in St. Augustine. Have one of your brothers drive the two of you up there and buy her some real people clothes. They sell Dianne's Creations too. Get her some undies and shoes, and put it on the tab. I want her looking like a queen on Sunday morning. And fix it up so she gets her hair done when y'all do for the wedding. I like your mother; she's a hoot, so let's make her feel real good about herself.

Rita went to join her mother in the bathroom. I went in search of the Scotch bottle. It was only eleven-thirty in the morning, but I needed a shot. My family was growing larger all the time, but a few of my loved ones needed a little honing to remove the sharp edges. I had a feeling about Rita's mother and it was a good one. She'd been screwed more ways than Sunday, but I felt like she was honest and true and needed a hand. She was genuinely concerned about Rita and I liked that. Besides, she fucks like a tiger. I liked that too.

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I knew the house was abuzz with activity upstairs, but I wanted no part of that so I went up the back stairway to the hallway near the den, in search of the old man. He was in the study, where else, on the phone. He waved me into the room and indicated I should close the door, which meant to all others in the world to stay out.

He signed off from his call and said, "Those women out there are driving me nuts. This wedding thing is completely out of hand."

"Tell me about it," I said. "I've been going through it since September. Then when you and Jan jumped into the fray, it got worse. Thanks!"

"Don't mention it," he laughed. "What's a little chaos amongst friends?"

He was sucking on a Bushmills. I'd had a drink downstairs and figured it would be a long day so I turned down his invitation to join him. I asked him about mother's jewelry. He told me it was mine to do with as I pleased, but I should keep Dianne in mind if I was going to sell it. I told him I had no intention of that but I would like to make Rita's mother a gift of one of the many diamond necklace and earring sets. After giving ma a serious dig about how little time it took me to get in her shorts, he said it sounded like a fine idea, and thanked me for asking.

I opened the safe and selected a neckpiece with a sizable cluster of small diamonds and a pair of earrings to match. I tucked the red velvet case in my hip pocket and opened the cash drawer and called out to dad and asked him if he knew how much cash was supposed to be in the drawer.

"Hard to say, Kid. I haven't counted it in years, just kept sticking my extra bills in there to empty my pockets. Why?" he asked.

"Oh, no real reason. I've borrowed a couple of thousand out of it when I went to New York. But shit, there's an awful lot of money in here," I explained.

"The only three people who have the number to the combination are you and Louise and I. And I think we are the only three people who know about the vault. The jewelry is worth a quarter of a mil. So the cash is insignificant," dad said.

I still was staggered by what I was learning about my father and his investments. Somehow, he had managed to build a fortune so large; even he didn't know how much we were worth. He had purchased property all over Florida and Georgia. The stack of deeds and other investment certificates in the vault made me weak in the knees. He had told me once that he thought he was worth around two hundred million dollars, but that was just the liquid stuff, not the real estate. Dianne and I were the only two people alive, except maybe the lawyer in Ormond Beach, who had a clue. And he had given me power of attorney over it all after dividing the business cash up two years ago. I decided to have the drink after all.

"Son," he said very slowly. "You have got to spend some of the money. The taxes are killing us on the investments. Almost half of the dividend goes to the government. But it's still building so fast I can't keep track of it any more. I want you to swear the Blossom woman to secrecy, and have her research what it all comes to. Cash in some of it and stash the cash in the vault here. Buy yourself a fleet of Lincolns, or Caddies for everybody each year. Give the women some jewels but you can't keep living like this. Hire some help and pay them too much. Get a bigger boat. Quit being a miser!"

"Geez, Pop. You really know how to hurt a guy. I spent seventeen hundred on a guitar and amp and another forty two hundred on rings yesterday and gave the jeweler a two grand tip!" I wailed.