Monet Inspires Novelist

At that point McNeill went off and made a call and found they could return home on a long-distance bus that would stop briefly at 11:00. He decided Monet ought to be home with her parents to spend what little time she had with them before she left for Vermont.

They sat at the back of the half-filled bus and canoodled and McNeill fingered her off but resisted her request for full sex.

"No you are too young for me but the real reason is you have been in no hurry to have sex, according to what you're told me. I say you'll really know when you are ready to open those legs to some lucky guy. At present you are on a bit of a high and I admit we have been working up to have sex but no Monet, let it be for a guy you have real affection for... er someone nearer your age."

"I suppose you're right," she yawned. "But don't kid yourself I have no affection for you. Mom says you're just as difficult a person as I am and that we two think almost in reverse to how most other people think. I think I know what she meant."

Within a few minutes Monet was asleep, breathing gently in McNeill's arms. He mused sadly of the possible long and wonderful relationship they could have had, a relationship that would have stolen her youth. He'd screwed up his former wife's life through being an alternative thinker to her and he had no intention of screwing up this young women's life with a second bite of the apple.

CHAPTER 3

McNeill didn't write for four days after Monet left. Darkness appeared to have entered his life and there was no bubble and bounce.

Donna came over the second morning after Monet's departure and looking at him and asked what was wrong? He looked ill.

"I'm fine."

Looking concerned she said, "Liar."

"Think what you like."

"Then why aren't you writing?"

"Haven't you got something to better to do than to waste time with old grumpy?"

Donna looked at him carefully and then she realized what it was. "Oh for heaven's sake, you're grieving."

The lack of response confirmed that. She wrapped her arms around and McNeill's head fell on to her ample bosom. She rocked him and felt a tear fall on to her cleavage and that made her strong and she cooed, "Oh you poor, poor man."

Two minutes of that was all McNeill needed. He pulled away, blew his nose and thanked her warmly. "You are a lovely woman Donna. I feel I'm over the worst now. I can easily afford to walk away from my lease here and lease a house in Vermont but now way do I wish to rob your daughter of her glorious twenties and she knows I feel like that. I had no choice Donna; I'm not altogether a soulless guy. You need soul to write and this harrowing experience might be good for me. I expect to feel like writing again within the next day or so. I'll put the novel I had started aside and brief my publisher on a new work that I have yet to plan."

"It will be loosely based on Monet won't it?"

"Yes a love story that goes sour and the guy will be her age but she'll win through, being that kind of heroine. Possibly she'll be a skier or skater, not a soccer player."

"I'd like you to make your heroine a young woman breaking into professional soccer. I'll ask Harry for his opinion. I believe two on to one could convince you to choose soccer as the setting. It's a newer sport for women compared with skiing and skating and I think it would attract a wider readership with soccer as the central theme."

"Well I'll think about it."

Donna said he was to come over for dinner. "I'll get Lisa to go for a run with you."

"Christ what are you doing Donna, Lisa is only seventeen."

"Yes and eager to have sex. But McNeill if I can't trust you to be alone with Lisa then who can I trust?"

McNeill was almost overcome in emotion. "That is one of the greatest compliments anyone has ever given me Donna. You make me feel so humble."

"Well I can't change the way you feel McNeill but by god, please accept you have had a profound influence on my family and me. We all have sharpened up our acts since you've been around, even Harry. He's not into running but he has pulled out his stored gym apparatus and is working out every evening before dinner and had changed his diet to loose weight and I'm getting more sex that I've had in years."

"More sex, is that good?" McNeill said, managing a weak grin.

"Damn good," Donna giggled. "Lisa has shifted into Monet's room and if she chooses to work at the window in her bra or even with her top bare then that's all right to me and you can expect her to ask you to talk to her about many things and no doubt one of the subjects will be sex."

"And that is okay by you?"

"Of course it is but I suggest you don't mention that to Harry. Fathers tend to be ultra-conservative about what their daughters should be told about sexual relations."

* * *

McNeill's publisher screamed at him for discarding his latest novel.

"We have lost six weeks," she ranted.

"Milly I'm a writer, not a machine. Just calm down otherwise you'll send milk into your old tits."

"What? How dare you. I've never been so foully personal with you."

"Well I never rant at you as you are doing to me now."

"Me ranting. For fuck sake McNeill... oh god, I have lost it haven't I? I call back soon."

Milly called back twenty minutes later.

"I'm sorry. Although I have an agreement with you on that original proposal your contract relates to a finishing date, not a title and not even content. You have every right to change your intent and have every right to be supported by your publisher whom you have served well. I apologize sincerely."

"Thanks and I apologize for talking to you foully."

"Oh that. I suggest you write that into dialogue some time. It was most original. Just make sure the woman you were talking to is in her sixties like me. Women readers will pee themselves in laughter."

"As you wish Milly. I'll sent you the proposal tomorrow and I'll promise you this: this one will be as good as anything I've written."

"I suggest you write it before making such a claim."

"The book is in me Milly attempting to claw it's way out."

* * *

McNeill was running with Lisa and was complimentary about her improvement.

"You are ready to lift the pace a notch."

"Okay but let me tell you this. Mom had a girly talk with me last night after our visitors left. She was half-drunk. She told me she can't understand why you haven't tried to have an affair with her.

"It's simple Lisa. Why risk fucking up your family? The ghost of Monet remains with me and I know she'd be offended if I played around with your mother and as you know I get along with your father pretty well and I'd bust that friendship if he found out."

"Gee girls at school say men fuck women at every opportunity."

"Well your fellow students don't know everything."

"Mom would got for you like a cat on heat if you made a play for her, wouldn't she?"

"You know your mother Lisa, what do you think?"

"Um what do I think? Well I can only say that's a difficult one to read."

McNeill laughed and said good thinking.

"What do you really think she'd do?"

"Lisa you mother likes to give the impression she's sexy and, well, guys do look at her tits. Although they are pretty big they really are beauties, er to guys. But if you want the truth," he lied, "I'm sure you mom doesn't play around and would reject with disgust any hit I made on her. At crunch time I feel she's react conservatively."

"Wow, that's a relief. Right I'm picking up the pace Mr Slowcoach."

McNeill looked at the young ass that was drawing away from him and went after it... er... sprinted to catch up to Lisa.

* * *

Colleen the sister came home from college on a break. She was pleasant, conservative and was non athletic and had the tit mass of her mom but not the shape. McNeill had walked into their home one afternoon without knocking and caught Donna walking around in just shorts dusting. She made no attempt to cover up and didn't appear to be annoyed that he was taking a good look. They drooped but not hugely and the way they hung containing good shape was yummy. She went off to make coffee and returned wearing a bra and top. McNeill said grandly there was no need to dress up for him. She smiled and said he couldn't expect to always see what he deserved to see. He thought that was an excellent reply.

Lisa told McNeill that Monet was coming home for the weekend because her team had a bye and it would be the first time all the family had been together in months. She was bringing a guy.

"Oh damn I'll miss her," McNeill lied. "I'm going home to see my folk."

He decided to do that because they hadn't seen him for many months.

* * *

The passing weeks took everyone and everything into fall and McNeill had never found it so easy to progress a manuscript and his publisher was greatly pleased at the sample chapters he'd sent. Milly had earlier received a précis of the story. McNeill could tell from the tone of the emails received from Milly and his editor that their expectations were building.

Out of the blue, a week after a storm had brought a touch of winter, Lindy called him.

"Oh hi, something has come up giving me reason to call you. How are you doing?"

"Great."

"Monet is going great."

"Yeah we follow reports of the games. How's Maxine."

"She's great. Yes everything is great but me."

"Oh, sorry to hear that. Do you wish to meet and talk?"

"Do you still fuck married women?"

Caught flatfooted McNeill nevertheless knew he'd be expected to come up with something profound. He thought his effort was rather pathetic.

"Rarely. You were with me at the right moment, a delightful window of opportunity."

"My husband Ralph has a mistress and the bastard is taking Maxine skiing this coming weekend and taking that bitch he calls his PA with them."

"Jesus. What are you doing about it?"

"Nothing at the moment. It shocked Maxine too and when I told her there was little I could do because I hate being up at ski fields she suggested I call you and arrange a weekend with you. She assumed when we disappeared at the soccer match we had had sex. Maxine knows all about Soccer Mums."

"So you are keen to be fucked?"

"Yes and we can stay in bed all weekend if you wish."

"Can you get time off?"

"Yes easily. I'm an accountant with private clients and work from home."

"Then let's fly late Thursday afternoon to Arizona and return late Monday. My parents have a winter home in Phoenix and are not down there at present. I'll need to check that it's vacant. It's pretty basic but extremely comfortable and private with a pool and hot tub and a couple of great restaurants are close by."

"Oooh, how romantic. May we live nude? I've always dreamed of doing that. My body still looks reasonably good and I know you almost have the body of a young man."

"Well okay providing you don't mind being fucked every time I see you bend over to pick up something.

"Oooh."

* * *

At the airport McNeill worried whether he'd recognize Lindy as he'd only met her the once although had fucked her. But that had been in a room with only one light on above the table on which she'd lay on her back for him. At that time he'd been interested in things other than what she looked like. Well he remembered she had good tits, was a dark shade of blonde, long with curls, blue eyes, a pretty good figure and a very small butt for a woman. And that was about all.

He looked around and saw blondes everywhere although most had big butts.

"Hi McNeill."

He turned and there she was; she'd found him.

"Ah my date for a filthy weekend," he smiled, kissing her gently on the lips. Her eyes remained open as she continued to look at him, probably wanting to see acceptance.

"You are a lovely looking woman."

She smiled, her shoulders appeared to square and she said thanks.

McNeill said, "Do you mind if we don't mention books, writing and your family this weekend?"

"Oh a wonderful suggestion and please add accountancy."

"We're in business class," he said as they went to Delta's lounge where they had coffee and chatted until their flight was called. Three and a half hours later in Phoenix they picked up the Ford Explorer McNeill had booked and forty minutes later were at the house.

"God I hadn't realized Phoenix was so big and had mountains inside the city boundary."

McNeill smiled and said no one knew everything. "Well here we are."

"Oh the place is charming and so well maintained."

"Yeah dad has people in on contract. What do you think of the neighborhood?"

"Oh it's so different. I love it. The temperature is wonderful."

"Yeah, better than what we have at home this time of year. The vehicle reading was seventy-three and it's unlikely to dip below the low sixties at night. Right carry your bags in and get your gear off."

"Providing you do the same."

"Of course I will."

Lindy fluffed around and finally came out nude to find McNeill nude but wet from being in the pool."

He opened the chiller box and poured a white wine for Lindy. He drank beer.

"When can we have sex?" she asked, looking at him over her glass.

"Jump into the pool and we'll have our first one in there."

"But our juices..."

"Don't worry. The pool is chemically treated and anyway what we shed by way of fluids will be an infinitesimal release in 30,000 gallons of water."

"Gee well yeah it is a large pool. I could swallow your cum if that would be a contribution to the environment."

They laughed.

They didn't laugh when they slid over the edge into the shallow end of the pool.

Lindy's tits seemed to float into McNeill's hands and she placed a hand around his dick and pulled it to encourage it to fully extend. They gazed into each other's eyes.

"This is good," he mumbled inadequately.

"It's what I wanted."

That seemed to telegraph something and so McNeill turned imaginative and sensitive. "Do you want to come and live with me when you dump your husband?"

"You wouldn't want me after you've had your fill here."

"I don't think you are correct about that... my memory of you is you were a great fuck."

Lindy's eyes flickered and she whispered, "Shove it in please and fuck me hard."

There are times in a guy's life when he has to bow to a woman's wishes and McNeill knew instinctively this was on such occasion.

"Pull your cunt lips open baby, here's your first present for today."

EPILOGUE

Lindy Vickers had difficulty walking through the airport for the flight home and McNeill Pax appeared decidedly bow-legged. Anyone analyzing their condition could have been excused for thinking they were honeymooners.

Lindy had the big bust-up with her husband and, weeping in guilt, he agreed to a divorce. She spent that night sleeping with McNeill and moved all her things into his house over the next few days.

Maxine had assumed she was left to live with her father but her mother suggested she should invite McNeill to lunch and find what they had in common, if anything, and whether they appeared compatible. She moved in with Lindy and McNeill the next weekend. The Vickers' home was then promoted for sale.

At her graduation Colleen Davidson introduced her parents to her girlfriend. Discovering Colleen was gay was a big shock to Harry and Donna. But it would appear Harry was safe from being fired from the bank because Colleen had gone off to Texas to settle with her darling. Harry was promoted to vice-president in charge of lending as a direct result of Donna's secret affair with the bank's president.

A month after Lindy's 40th birthday celebrations it was confirmed she was pregnant. Marriage was planned for the following summer.

Monet never gained selection to a professional soccer team but she starred in amateur soccer for another five years before she married the only child of a guy who owned a chain of eleven supermarkets. Her fiancée is nine years older than Monet and like her he doesn't much like sex either.

Lisa Davidson is known as one of the ten top sluts at her college. She is studying English literature and writing.

McNeill ended up buying the house he was renting because Lindy and their neighbor Donna had become the best of friends and the neighborhood had grown on him and he'd acquired the biggest bunch of friends he'd ever had.

His novel, Cindy McPhee, Soccer Superstar,' has already sold more copies than the combined aggregate sales of all of his other eleven novels but didn't quite make the best-seller list. It is currently being printed in English, French, Italian, German, Portuguese and Spanish languages.

McNeill claims the divorce of Lindy and her husband has no connection to his new novel being printed, 'Lust Kills a Marriage'.

Lindy calls that a big fat lie.

THE END