Fooled Me Twice Pt. 01

After returning to Stanford, and before starting my Junior year, I sold five patent's on parts I modified that were improvements to existing devices used in zero gravity propulsion. I started designing these improvements in October of my junior year in high school. Three of the parts were from my dad's inventory, and I borrowed them without asking. Because Stevens Aerospace assembled the engines for NASA, they had components from other Aerospace companies, and all five pieces, assembled together, would improve the performance of an ion thruster by six percent. By continuing to make changes, I felt improving the initial ion thrust by over 500% was possible. It sounds like a lot, but before I tinkered, the initial thrust was only .1 pounds.

I took dimensions and pictures and drew detailed schematics before putting them back. I used the machine shop in the Engineering building at Stanford to create working models of each part from my design drawings. Making friends with the night security guard was easy, and for a donation to his shirt pocket, whenever I desired access to the shop, I could machine the parts from scratch. After every visit, I cleaned up my mess, and because I left the shop as I found it, the guard was happy to let me in anytime he was working.

When I had working models and patents on the modified parts, I gave them to a broker to sell, but I demanded that he offer them to the three companies who created the original parts before putting them on the market.

I used a broker because I didn't want Dad or Uncle Bob to know I was the inventor. After all, they would expect me to give them the parts for free. However, Stevens A&D could afford to pay my price, and I estimated they would make their money back one hundredfold.

After intense negotiations that lasted all summer, the terms were agreed upon, and I netted $2.15 million after taxes and broker fees, selling all five patents.

*****

My personal life changed in mid-September of my junior year. I was at a mixer hosted by a fraternity my high school friend Chase belonged to when the woman who would change my life flowed through the room. I followed her with my eyes, as did every other male in the room. She was tall, 5-foot-eight inches, with long blonde hair, steel blue eyes, firm D-Cups, and long, healthy legs with 4-inch stiletto heels that held my gaze; then she turned, walked up to me, and spoke.

"Like what you see?"

Wow, she chose me over all the jocks and smooth-talking lounge lizards. So I might as well take a shot with my suave demeanor and charming personality.

"Absolutely! I have a breathtaking view of two blue eyes that can only be surpassed by the beauty of the sun peeking above the horizon on a clear morning."

"Are you a frustrated English major who writes trashy romance novels on the side?"

"Touché, mademoiselle. However, I'm majoring in Aeronautical and Astronautical Engineering with a double minor. So let me guess, with those piercing eyes, you must be a medical major."

"Aren't you just charming? No, Forensic Accounting is my academic path."

"Well, now that we've established that we both have very high IQs, would you like to leave this boring party and go somewhere to talk?"

"Do you live on campus?"

"No, I own a house nearby."

My God, she's hot, Marty, don't blow it, listen carefully when she speaks and answer without sounding like an idiot.

"Oh, you own your own house?" Her smile was causing my feet to melt, and I had to place my hand on the back of a chair to keep me upright.

"It's my college pad, only 3,500 square feet, but big enough to get me through college, and then I'll sell it when I go back home to work for my dad. He cosigned the purchase agreement for me when I arrived at Palo Alto, loaned me the standard down payment, and I signed a note to repay him with interest thirty days after graduating."

"You must have a hefty mortgage to live around here."

"Do you want to run a credit bureau on me?"

"Maybe I already ran one, although if I had to guess, it's in the 800 range. Am I close?"

I'm sure she was guessing, I hope. "Very impressive; it's 806, but who's counting. Since you checked me out, would you like to see my etchings?"

"Not original, but okay. Do you have a car nearby?"

"We can walk; I only live three blocks away." I looked around the room for Chase but quickly gave up, offered my right arm to this goddess, and escorted her outside through the deafening silence in the room.

As we walked, she questioned me like a detective grilling a suspect. "Where are you from?"

"Greenville, South Carolina. My Uncle Bob and my dad own 'Stevens Aerospace and Defense,' a contractor working for NASA and the Department of Defense. I have three sisters, two married, and two nieces."

We walked a little farther, and she spoke, "No family still alive; my parents died in a plane crash when I was two, and a couple who couldn't have kids adopted and raised me. Then, a week after I graduated high school, they died in a head-on car crash with a bus. Stanford had already sent me an acceptance letter, so with two partial scholarships, money from my parent's life insurance, and the money from selling their house, I had enough for four years of school, housing, and food. I loved living in Portland, but I'm glad I came here."

"Why, because I'm here?"

"No, dummy, because it's a great school with a great Accounting & Business Management department."

"Well, no more talking; we're here." I led her up my driveway and pointed toward my garage in the backyard, "That's my three-car garage, even though I only have two vehicles there."

Marty, you dope, you're blowing it.

I took her left hand, and we strolled up three steps to the porch and the front door. The motion detectors turned on the porch and yard lights, illuminating the front of the house. When we reached the front door, I pushed the red button on my key fob, opening the front door.

"Oh, You have a servant working for you."

"Nope, nobody here, just you and me, some electrical wiring, and my programmable key fob. It just occurred to me we have not introduced ourselves. I am Marty, and my last name is Stevens, which you already know. And you are?"

"Elizabeth, just Liz for now."

"May I offer you a non-alcoholic beverage before taking you on a private tour?"

"I'd like a ginger ale if you have any?"

"In the kitchen, please retake my arm, and I shall escort you there like the southern gentleman I strive to emulate."

"Aren't you sweet?"

"Here we are. Glasses are to the left of the sink." I opened the refrigerator, took out Sprite and ginger ale cans, and handed her the Canada Dry. "Open your own so that you won't worry about, well, you know what evil things can happen to a beautiful woman,"

I gave her the grand tour, trying to impress her, while she sipped her ginger ale. Based on the oohs and aahs coming from her kissable lips, she seemed impressed with me; okay, maybe it was my house, not me.

"And lastly, the living room. Please have a seat; you may ask me anything bouncing around your pretty little head."

She peppered me with personal questions but saved the one she really wanted to ask for last. "What's your mortgage payment."

I laughed. "I got a deal on the house because it was a foreclosure. It was listed for 3.1 million, and I offered them 2.4 million. The bank accepted my offer." She seemed impressed, so I continued, "To answer your question, let's make a friendly wager, Liz. If you can guess an amount within five thousand dollars of my monthly house payment, over or under, I'll wait on you any Friday through Sunday as your manservant, and you shall be the lady of the house."

"And if I lose?"

"A single kiss tonight and your full name."

"Deal."

She pulled a pocket calculator out of her handbag and started punching numbers. Liz was looking through me and talking to herself, "The purchase price was $2.4 million, hmm, subtract, and you told me um, made the standard down payment, 20%, and the rates two years ago were...."

She pounded away on her calculator and one minute later triumphantly stated, "It's a sucker bet. You can't win. My guess is 10,000, so everything between 5,000 and 15,000 is covered. You're covered if you made a weak 5% down payment or put down a massive 75% of the sale price, which isn't probable."

Liz was smirking at me with her arms crossed, and she was tapping a toe on my floor,

"I let you off way too easy," and I wrote the amount of my mortgage on a piece of paper, folded it, and handed it to Liz as I strolled past her to reach my desk. Opening my top desk drawer, I removed an envelope holding two documents and held it out to her, smiling, "Documentation."

She unfolded the paper, read what I wrote, and shouted, "No way."

I handed Liz the envelope for her to verify what I had written down, $0.00. She pulled the contents out; a copy of the check paying for the house was paper clipped to a bill of sale, stamped 'PAID IN FULL.'

"I borrowed the money to buy the house from a trust my grandfather set up, and I'll repay that loan when I sell the house after graduation."

Her lips were quivering, and she was upset. Was it because I have money, or she just hates to lose?

She straightened up, looked into my eyes, and said, "My full name is Elizabeth Katherine Cummings, but I told you I go by Liz." Opening her purse, she took out a lipstick and touched up her luscious lips while she looked into the mirror hanging in my hallway. Then she put her arms around my neck and gave me a 20-second closed-mouth kiss that rivaled any tongue I had ever shared with any woman, although two was my unimpressive total.

"Can I offer you a ride home? It's getting late, and I have a lab tomorrow that requires me to be awake and alert, so I don't blow up the chemistry building. If it's acceptable, could we continue this introductory conversation Friday evening? Talking with you tonight has been the highlight of my social life for the past two years."

"I prefer to walk home, and please accept my apologies for being so nosy tonight. I'm not usually like that, and yes, I would like to see you again." She took a pen and a post-it pad from her purse and wrote something. "Here's my number. You can reach me after 7:00 any night."

"Well, if you don't want me to know where you live, which I understand completely, please allow me to arrange for a taxi to take you home."

Her rigid demeanor softened; she smiled and agreed. We waited for the cab on my front porch, and when it arrived, I gave the cabby a twenty-dollar bill and said the young lady would give him the address. As the cab drove away, I felt something I hadn't felt since I was sixteen at my sister's wedding.

I can't believe it, I'm in love again, wahoo! My romance with Elizabeth Katherine Cummings began in my mind, and I was so happy because Liz wanted to see me again.

For the rest of September and into October, everything was going well, classes, labs, tests, papers, and our Friday night weekly dinner. I didn't complain; I knew we both carried a heavy course load, so serious dating was out of the question at this time. Her goal was to earn a bachelor's degree in Business Administration with two minors in Forensic Accounting and Auditing. My new goal was to graduate and marry this woman who stole my heart and have lots of babies together.

On the third Friday in October, after dinner, Liz gave me directions to a popular park where people parked and necked. I tried, but I fumbled around her body, frustrating Liz. I had no clue what I was supposed to do because I never did anything like this with Leslie; we went from shaking hands to blowjobs and anal sex, skipping foreplay.

Needing help, I went to a local bookstore, and a Goth girl with a ring through her nose and a safety pin in her eyebrow sold me four, Guide To Better XXXXXX books, with XXXXXX being, Foreplay, Heterosexual Sex, Oral Sex, and Anal Sex. She told me to read them in that order but to focus on the first one, Foreplay. After I paid, she asked if I wanted to see her coffin in the basement, but I politely refused.

In November, using my new book skills on her, Liz was climaxing two or three times with her clothes still on. The looks she gave me boosted my ego, and with the secrets I learned from the book, I felt proud every time she had an orgasm.

As happy as I was then, I constantly wondered, when would Liz let me undress her, kiss her bare breasts, lick her pussy, and make love to her?

I had a question I needed the answer to, where did she live?

*****

On the first Friday of December, the 5th, my question was answered. I picked up Liz for dinner and drove my Dodge Viper to a steak house. After dinner, we walked a block from the restaurant to a popular dance club and worked up a sweat for over an hour. Liz turned down at least half a dozen wannabe Romeos' dance requests, then decided we should leave after the last guy got physical and bouncers had to separate us. As we waited for the valet to bring my car around, Liz pulled me into a kiss, a hot tonsil licking kiss. I began seeing stars, and when my car roared up to the curb, I opened the passenger door, helped her in, then ran around and jumped into the driver's seat. Before I pulled away, she reminded me, "Seat belt."

I buckled up, and Liz, shyly, in a little girl's voice, shocked me by giving me her address. Immediately, I knew where it was and what kind of building it used to be; a warehouse converted into condominiums that I had investigated before buying my house. Peeling out, I ran through three red lights and four stop signs and braked just in time to miss an old lady who wandered into a crosswalk. Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at her building, and I was shaking with desire.

After parking my car and stumbling as I got out, I ran to the passenger side and opened the door for Liz. Taking her hand, I helped her out of her seat and started walking toward her building. I didn't get far because Liz wasn't moving even though I still held her hand, and I heard her ask a question as I turned around, "Marty, did you forget to do something?"

I looked at her before throwing out the first answer that popped into my head, "Crap, I didn't bring any condoms."

She howled and bent over, laughing, and for a couple of seconds, I thought Liz was crazy before realizing I had forgotten to close both car doors. Feeling very embarrassed, I released Liz's hand to correct my mistake. After shutting the driver's door and walking around the trunk of my car, I couldn't find Liz. Frantically, I focused on the building entrance believing that she'd left me behind.

"Are you coming with me, or what?"

Her voice was behind me, and she must've followed me around the car intentionally because she had another laugh at my expense.

Now, she held my hand and led me through the building door to an elevator we rode to the top floor. As we left the lift, two doors were facing us, about fifty feet apart, and Liz guided me to the door on our left.

After unlocking the door, she let me enter first, and I could see a dining room table and a rolltop desk next to it. Both were covered with stacks of books, paper piles, and writing instruments. A laptop lay on one of four dining room chairs, and an old mechanical adding machine was sitting on another chair. I wandered around a corner, and the kitchen was immaculate.

"So this is your Fortress of Solitude."

My cellphone rang; the ringtone told me it was my mother, and I noticed it was ten-thirty. "Excuse me, Liz, it's my mother calling me." With a touch on the phone's screen, I took her call, "Hi, Momma. How are you?"

"Fine, everything's fine, Marty. When are you coming home for Christmas?"

"I fly home on the 19^th and return to school on the 27^th. I'll take a cab home from the airport."

"Are you traveling alone?"

"Yes, Momma."

"Sorry, I was just hoping for once you would answer 'No, I'm bringing someone with me,' and make me happy since I'm your mother. Besides, you never call me."

"Love you, Momma. Bye," and I returned my phone to my jacket pocket.

"That's so sweet, Marty. You're lucky. Let's continue the tour," said the spider to the fly.

Passing by the kitchen, I saw a spotless bathroom that looked unused and a small bedroom on the other side of the hallway. The master was at the end of the hall with a queen-sized bed and a large walk-in closet that appeared to run the entire width of the condo. Opposite the end of the bed were a large woman's dresser and mirror with a wall-mounted flat-screen above the mirror. To the left was the main bathroom, with a soaking tub and a separate shower.

Everything at this end of the condo was clean and in order. I turned around, and Liz was smiling behind me, unlike a friend or lover, like Delilah eyeing Samson's hair.

I commented, "Very organized and tidy. And your study area? Do you keep it like that to scare off burglars?"

"Too much talk." She unbuttoned her blouse as she kissed me, then unbuttoned my shirt.

"Wait, you never answered about condoms? Do I need to pull out?"

"When was the last time you had sex?"

"June, after my sister's wedding."

"I'm on the pill, and if you had the clap, it would have rotted and fallen off by now, so I think we're safe."

Liz yanked my shirt off and dropped my pants to the floor while I kicked off my shoes, before stripping herself and leading me to her bed. She spun me around, shoved me on my back, and gazed down at my rigid cock with bedroom eyes filled with lust while pinching her nipples between her finger and thumb.

Climbing onto the bed and moving on her knees toward my head, she slowly lowered a beautiful vision over my lips while staring into my eyes. After seeing her neatly trimmed landing strip, I knew she was a natural blonde just before her glistening labia descended on my lips. As she touched down, I opened my mouth, extended my tongue, and began exploring at my pace, slowly and gently, just like the book explained. The seductive look on her face changed to one of ecstasy, and her eyes sparkled.

Moving my hands up, I caressed her belly with the fingers of one hand while my other hand managed to find a nipple that needed rubbing and light pinching. Moving my oral digit from side to side, I slowly pulled it out of her tasty love canal before stopping when my tongue almost touched her clit. Leaning in a tiny bit, I traced the edge of her clitoral hood with the tip of my tongue; the increased blood flow was causing this little bud to swell as I increased sensitivity by licking it with my tongue's soft underside.

Her voice increased in pitch and volume, and she pulled my hair, encouraging me to lick her pussy harder, faster, and deeper.

She was purring like a fat cat. "Eat me, lick my pussy, Marty, oooh feels good; don't stop, yeesss, right there; I feel it; oh Gawd, I need, oooooh I'm gonna come baby; pinch my nipples harder," and she started wailing, a mournful yell starting in her diaphragm and exiting through her lips.

With both forefingers and thumbs now pinching and pulling a stiff nipple and her hips grinding over my lips, I buried my tongue deep inside her pussy again. Rotating clockwise, I touched everywhere I could reach while enjoying the sweet taste. She replaced my tongue on her clit with a finger, and I struggled to breathe because both nostrils were blocked as her clit slid back and forth over my nose. I didn't care because I wasn't stopping, and I prepared myself for unconsciousness to hear this goddess scream my name to the world. Stars were flashing in front of my eyes, and lucky for me, that was when the dam broke.

I heard some unrecognizable cries, moans, and words getting louder before she screamed, "There, right there, don't stop. Marty, what are you doing? Oh my god, ohmygod, OHMYGOD, I'm comin', COMMINNNGGG!"