An Old Mans Wish

First of all I would like to thank Todger65 for editing this story and teaching me things about both the English language and Open Office. The help provided has been invaluable and I am indebted. If there still are any faults they are entirely my mistakes due to last minute changes or negligence. Thank you Todger!

As usual this could have been put in a number of other categories (Exhibitionism was a strong candidate), but I decided on Romance in the end. The story is somewhat long, around 20.000 words, and if you want a lot of 'action' you have probably come to the wrong place. Comments are welcome, even negative ones: I promise that I won't erase any as long as they aren't offensive to others, but I would prefer if you are constructive.

This is a work of fiction and none of the characters are based on real persons, living or dead.

Halin24

- - - - - - - - -

The old man in the back of the limousine was out on his last ride. At 96 it wasn't surprising, it had been expected, by some eagerly awaited, for the last 10 years at least, but now his body had finally given up the struggle and was being transported to the cemetery and his final resting place. The limo, his only transportation the last 50 years, was driven by the man's latest chauffeur, Daniel, son and grandson of the only other two chauffeurs he had ever had. The interior of the car had been cleared out to carry the casket, the back opened up to get it in. Another of the old man's ideas, it had been specified in his will, and as always one that the man's family had fought to prevent.

Jason Jones the 3rd, (the 3rd added by him as a joke), had walked his own ways all his life and no-one would stop him doing so when he was dead! Everything was specified in his will, everything was paid for in advance, any those of his heirs that didn't accept it stood to lose everything that was coming to them. They expected a lot was coming their way so in the end they all relented, although grudgingly.

The coffin was simple, the cheapest there was: 'Why on earth would anyone want to have a luxurious coffin to be buried in?' Jason Jones (the 3rd...) had said several times 'They'll be dead for crying out loud! They might as well set fire to the bills!'

The burial site was also simple, a small piece of the cemetery among others, the headstone was ordinary as well but had one thing that stuck out: an inscription that said 'I left the money behind and so should you!'.

It was his final insult to his sons and daughters as well as other relatives. They had always been after more wealth, no matter how much they already had or if it was more than they needed.

Jason had lived well, he had never denied that, but he had resented spending for the sake of spending itself.

His children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and the rest of the 'vultures', as he had called them, was waiting in the cemetery, watching as the old limo drove up. In their minds they all wished they didn't have to be there, didn't have to be degraded like this. The richest man in the state, one of the richest in the country, brought to the final rest in a crappy old, and now totally destroyed, limo, laying in a simple casket, buried in an unremarkable spot with a simple headstone, and they, his heirs, had to be there on display to let everyone see it. It was an insult to them and they knew that it was intended by the old man. He had never made a secret of his dislike for their want for more, but soon they would finally have it. They felt that it had been to spite them that he had held on to his life for so long, but now he was gone!

- - - - - - - - -

Daniel Brady, the chauffeur, drove the limo over to his parents house after the ceremony was over and was met by them outside the door.

"Is it over with?" his dad asked. All three of them had tears in their eyes so Daniel only nodded in answer and Jonathan, his father, continued.

"Then we should honour him the way he would have wanted and nothing more: drink a glass of his favourite whiskey, dry our tears and remember all the good things he did. He wouldn't have appreciated us mourning him. After that I have a letter from him that we should open. He gave it to me a few years ago, before he went into surgery, and said that it should be kept safe until he was put in the ground. Come on."

He put an arm around his wife's shoulder, the other around his son and led them inside.

In the living room he poured three glasses and handed two of them over to the others, then he spoke:

"In honour of a great man and true friend! May you rest in peace Jason!"

They held the glasses up in cheers, emptied them and threw them into the fireplace, shattering them in thousands of pieces. Then they sat down on the sofa and he took an envelope from the inside pocket of his black suit, ripped it open and started to read out loud.

Jonathan!

When you read this I will be gone and buried, I know that because you would never fail to follow my wishes. That is one of the things that separates your family from mine, the honour and honesty.

I also know that you have not attended the funeral despite the fact that you wished too. I told you not to, so you didn't, simple as that! Daniel took me on the last drive, that was his job and I am sure he did it well as always. Both of you, as well as your father before you, always performed your duties to the letter. Now you are sitting together after a toast of my favourite drink, determined not to grieve, are you not? Yes, I know you all well after all our conversations, and that is the reason for this letter.

You all know what I wanted, the values that I appreciated, my contempt for the money-hungry vultures of this world (my own children not least!) and I know that you are different than most in that respect.

Therefore it is my wish that you do one last thing for me, well, actually several things I hope, but that depends on whether you really understood me as well as I think or not.

The old limo has been 'rebuilt', I guess you would say 'destroyed', for my last ride in it, and I have stipulated that it now belongs to you, Jonathan, and Daniel, along with some money. Do what you want with the car but remember that it was only a means of transportation: something to take you from 'A' to 'B'. It did well in doing so and that was all I needed so I never bought a newer, better or more luxurious one like my vultures wanted. I hope it will take you to the next point on your travel too, after all it is the chauffeur that drives the car, not the other way around.

Think of me but not in grief but with joy. I hope that I deserve that after all.

Your friend

Jason Jones (III)

- - - - - - - - - -

"What do you mean: 'can't be concluded yet'?!" Donald Jones ( the 1st) almost yelled to the lawyer sitting in front of him across the conference-table "The old man had a will, it stipulated how that stupid funeral should be done, we all know that, and we had to be there or be excluded from any money so how the hell can you say that we can't take over the assets?"

"There was a will, yes, and it stipulated everything in detail, also how much you should be told and when. This is the next stop on the way and it says that all his children will each receive 10 million dollars. The rest of the assets will stay under the control of a foundation until someone can show that he, or she or them, are the rightful owner(s) and thereby take over the control. This is clearly defined, very clearly."

The lawyer Henry Crawford was calm and professional but laughed inside at the other man's rage. As an old friend of Jason he found that the predictions so far were exact and he hoped they would stay that way. Donald was not the right person to control an empire.

"Fuck!!!" Donald screamed "How the hell can anyone show that they are the rightful owner when no-one knows who the rightful owner is??? That is ridiculous!"

"No doubt later instructions will prove or disprove any claims, but for now this is the situation."

"What about the foundation, who controls it? You?"

"Absolutely not, Mr Jones made sure that no interested parties were on the board of the foundation and no-one that was involved with handling the will or property. I have the right to pay for repairs on his property but that is all: I have to show receipts to the board on any expense."

"Then you must know who are on the board, so tell me!"

"I have no idea: it is something I do not have to know. I have an address, a PO box, that is all."

"Fuck!!!" Donald repeated, stood up and stormed out.

'Asshole!' Henry though to himself, but now he was smiling.

- - - - - - - - -

Two hours later he didn't smile when he talked to Daniel down at the garage:

"Daniel, I am sorry to have to tell you this, but with no car to drive any more, and no-one to drive either, your services are no longer needed. I know that Mr Jones appreciated what you did for him, just like he appreciated your father and his father before that, but his instructions what I have to do was clear: reduce expenses until a new owner said otherwise. You will be paid a six-months severance that will give you time to find something else, but you will also have to leave the cottage as soon as possible so that the estate can be closed down. I hope that you understand that I regret to have to tell you this."

"No problem Mr Crawford, it is perfectly alright. Without the old man Jason the place will never be the same and I have no wish to stay any longer. I will pack my things and move back home to mom and dad, it will only take a couple of hours. Should I give you the keys or the guard at the gate when I leave?"

"Leave them at the gate. Good luck now and take care Daniel."

"Thank you Mr Crawford and the same to you."

They shook hands and Daniel walked over to the cottage where he lived, part of the benefits Jason Jones had given to his trusted staff.

- - - - - - - - - -

"What are you doing here, Daniel?" Mandy asked when she opened the door he had just knocked on. "Aren't you on duty, even after Mr Jones died?"

"Not any more, I'm not. I was fired four hours ago." he smiled and took her in his arms.

She freed herself and looked him in the eyes to see if he was joking. It didn't look that way despite the smile.

"Honey, I'm so sorry!" she responded and returned in his arms.

"Mandy, no need to be sorry, I'm not. Without Jason it is not the same and I don't want to stay now anyway. I got six months pay, I'll manage. I only wanted to tell you that I have moved back with my parents for now and you cannot reach me any more on the work cell-phone."

"Okay, thanks for stopping by and telling me. Will you come to the club tonight and watch me? I will do my new act for the first time and since I practised it in front of you I would be more comfortable if you were there."

She worked as a pole-dancer/stripper at the only nightclub in the small town, the only job available with the economy in ruins. With only a high school education it didn't matter how smart she was, no-one was hiring a girl without a degree from a university and she couldn't afford that. With her looks the strip-job could have seemed perfect for her, but she hated it.

Golden-blonde, pretty, blue-eyed, busty with an hourglass figure and a smile that could make a bishop drool from desire, she was still not the typical girl to strip in front of other people. After her father went to jail for embezzlement and her mother killed herself from the shame, she had to take whatever job she could get to get by and provide for herself and her younger sister. Daniel had offered to help any way he could, but she had refused to take any money: it was a matter of pride, if/when they got married it would be a different situation.

He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose.

"Of course I will be there! I have nothing else to do any more and I sure as hell don't want someone else to pick you up."

"Won't happen and you know it! I'm a stripper yes, but I'm not a whore!" she pouted.

"I know honey, I was joking. But at the same time I have seen your new number, so I know how guys react to it. It will cause a riot at the club."

- - - - - - - -

He arrived at the club at eight that evening, dressed neatly but not fashionably. If he hadn't been recognised as Mandy's boyfriend he would probably not have been allowed to enter, but as it was he was greeted with smiles by the bouncers. Mandy was appreciated as much for her kindness and down-to-earth attitude as for her looks.

Inside he ordered a beer by the bar before he sat down close to the stage. In the semi darkness he noticed a dozen other men seated nearby, about half of them with female company, the rest were alone. Two topless waitresses moved around, taking up orders and wiping down tables. Daniel knew very well that their real job was to let their breasts wiggle around in front of the men to distract them so they didn't realise how much water their drinks contained.

He had just about finished his beer when the first stripper entered the stage and the music was turned up at the same time as the spots were lit. The stripper was a bit on the thin side, not a 'plank' but not far from it and the difference in width between waist, hips and chest was minimal. Otherwise her face was nice despite too much make-up. He thought her name was Candy, one of the oldest of the dancers and a former junkie.

She did her job without smiling even once, and no-one cared if she was there or not. No applause followed her as she left the stage and no-one asked her to sit down with them. No-one was that desperate for company.

Ten minutes passed before the next girl came on, this time presented by the DJ:

"Welcome Miss Demeanor!" he shouted and a few of the men at least turned around to face the stage.

Miss Demeanor's real name was Emma which Daniel knew: a girl who had ran away from home when she was 15, scraped by until she turned eighteen when she asked for a job at the club. Starting as a cleaner she had worked her way up, if that was the right word, to a stripper in a year and was the youngest among them. A curvy body didn't entirely make up for the fact that she couldn't dance and moved like a brick wall, but for some in the audience it was enough, and a man called her over to his table when she had finished her 'dance'.

Daniel knew how the club worked, they started with the less popular acts and worked their way up to the top so that the guests would stay as long as possible, and that way spend more money. Mandy usually was among the top three that came on after eleven and then alternated until the club closed: he still had a long wait ahead of him.

With one performance every twenty minutes, girl after girl got up on the stage, and the crowd that watched grew larger and louder. Cat-calls and whistles became regular features, the girls got more beautiful, their performances sexier and more provocative.

A look at his watch told Daniel that they were into the top three and still no sign of Mandy. The crowd got closer to the stage and money came out to be offered to the girl performing to make her come closer and give an exclusive peek from one direction or the other.

The rules were clear, look but don't touch when on stage, and two bouncers took up position close by to be ready to interrupt if things got out of hand. They had hardly bothered up until then, standing by the bar and glancing at the stage now and then. Now with the top three their eyes never left the area around the stage.

The redhead finished her dance, kneeling with legs spread wide and back arched, wearing only the stiletto-heeled strap-sandals, to the ovation of the watching men. Leaving the stage she smiled as she picked up her clothes and nodded to one man who howled in delight as his offered money had gotten him a visit at his table from her. This was up to the girls to decide on, and the money was seen as their 'tip'. What happened after that was nothing the club cared about as long as the girl was back on stage for her next performance.

After a short break the next girl was introduced: Amber. So Mandy, with the stage name Goldie-locks, was the top act for the night, Daniel thought. He was not surprised but it caused him to worry. He knew how it worked, how the crowd demanded special attention by the top three and especially by the number one, and Mandy didn't like it at all.

That was why she wanted him there, to be able to accept an invitation to a table without causing a problem. If the top performer turned everyone down and went to the dressing-room the crowd would get upset, but if she accepted an invitation from Daniel it would mean she was safe from unwanted suggestions to go much further and keep unwanted hands away from touching her, even if they were subtle ones. She had described it as 'a fish trying to be friendly to a hungry octopus without being eaten'.

Amber didn't accept an invitation when she had finished, she just walked away to the dressing-room, followed by growls and screams: 'bitch!', 'to good for us, huh?' and worse. Not good at all, Daniel thought. Apparently the two bouncers agreed with him, because they moved all the way up to the front of the stage and stood there glaring with arms crossed over their chests, looking mean. Not that they had to work on that, they looked it even when they laughed. The crowd calmed down a little.

"Our top dancer for the evening, coming with a brand new act: Goldielocks!" the DJ announced after a moment. Daniel guessed that the manager wanted a distraction, and fast, since the usual longer break to build up the anticipation was skipped. The lights were dimmed even more, the spot-lights came on with the music and there she was.

Dressed in a micro-skirt and white shirt that was tied together under her bust but not buttoned at all, and high-heeled white leather thigh-high boots, she didn't reveal anything except a generous cleavage. She oozed sex-appeal even so. She strutted back and forth for a while, moving her hips and letting her bust jump around. Every time she passed the dance-pole she took a hold of it with one hand and leaned backwards until her head touched the floor with a leg on either side of the pole and her crotch grinding against it. Her breasts almost escaped the shirt when she did this, but not quite. Daniel knew what the men watching were thinking: 'maybe next time!'

Perpetually smiling and with eyes sparkling, the skirt hitched lower with every move of the hips until it fell to the floor and stopped her prancing. The white lace v-string covered the essentials but not much more. One of her hands came up to her mouth and her expression was a caricature of 'oops, that was not meant to happen!'. Then she stepped out of the skirt with an even bigger smile, to continue.

Next the knot that held the shirt together came loose and the innocent look was repeated when it dropped from her shoulders and down the arms. It revealed that she had a push-up bra, strapless and only supporting the lower part of her bust, excluding the nipples, and a cheer rose from the audience when the shirt hit the floor and was kicked away. Once more she returned to her stroll.

The bra was next to come off and that led to a change when she reached the pole. She stood against it with the breasts to either side, then she pushed them together around the pole and moved up and down, literally breast fucking it with her crotch gliding against it further down. It sounded like a pack of wolfs had entered the club, howls echoing all around.

When the string finally came off and she once more breast fucked the pole and ground her crotch against it, her pussy lips visibly separated, the room caught fire. Several guys tried to enter the stage and the bouncers came to life to stop them.