Getting Rich Ch. 01

He kissed her for a while, deeply from what I could see and definitely passionately, and then moved up onto his knees next to her face and gave her something more interesting to do with her mouth.

He had a nice cock. Probably six inches and a bit long and neither thick or thin, which explained why she was getting so much out of mine, but still perfectly acceptable, and she seemed to be enjoying it. For one thing, she could take it all the way to the root, and did so every few strokes. For another, I could tell from other things that she was more excited now than she had been when we started, even though she had known he would be arriving soon. A few minutes more like this and I'd be cumming all over the place, and given my recent dry spell and the slim odds of anything like this happening again, I wanted to extend this experience as far as possible.

She shuddered through another orgasm, and when that brought me much closer to my own than I wanted yet, I pulled out, slid down her body and again attacked he sodden pussy with my tongue.

"No!!! Aaaah!! So close!! Give me cock!!!" she squealed, and hubby took that to heart and moved further south.

But ... it's my party, I reasoned, and I'll fuck if I want to, so when he got withing range and tried to nudge me aside, I instead twisted my face to the side and sucked his cock into my mouth.

"Oh my god!" he moaned, and I used my tongue to stimulate the underside of his glans. I plunged down to take all of him into my mouth, and he jerked and twitched.

"What the hell?" she asked, lifting herself up on her elbows to watch, and I let him pop out of my mouth and turned back to lick and suck on her clit making her eyes roll up in her head.

I alternated between the two of them for a minute or five until they were both irretrievably into it and then moved out of the way and guided his rock-hard cock into her pussy, then slid up and began kissing her again. What had happened had turned her on no end, and she kissed back very deeply and passionately, and took me in hand as we kissed, and then had to lick her essence off of her hand, which I joined in and helped as I could. We got into a rhythm of him fucking her, her running our combined essence off of my cock and both of us licking it off until he groaned "I'm cumming!"

I pulled back to keep from getting an elbow in the face (he was really getting into it) and let him lean in and really get into it, and when he came he set her off and they both got really into it until he all but fell off of her, rolling onto his back, his damp cock flopping out onto his thich, still soaked from their combined juices.

She gave me a hopeful look, but instead of jumping on and fucking her, I dove in face first and licked her deeply, eating their combined juices from her until she was shiny clean. Halfway through this he finally caught his breath and leaned up on one elbow to watch, but I waved him back when he started to lean in, an once I'd eaten her to yet another orgasm I backed off and cleaned him up, licking and sucking their combined cum off of his cock, and maybe sucking a few last drops out of it.

Then I leaned in and kissed her deeply and while she was tasting their combined juices from my tongue, plunged my cock into her and after just a few minutes (after more than forty minutes, all told) came long and deep into her.

However, when I went in to clean up my mess, he nudged me out of the way and with a questioning look at her (and a very surprised look from her) echoed my performance, cleaning each of us up.

"I never would have thought..." she finally said.

"Either would I" he finished, "but... it was good. Surprisingly good."

"You've never done this before? You seemed to be expecting it."

"We've swung before - been in the lifestyle for years - but ... never done any gay stuff before."

"Because...?"

"Because... because I don't know. It never seemed right then. The few people who brought it up just seemed ... off, somehow."

"Ah. I know how that works. They were sensation-seekers, not genuine, trying to see what they could get, not what they could share."

"What?"

"Something I learned back when I was a psych major - there are givers and there are takers ... and a fairly wide grey area between them. But people who are out to have fun by sharing themselves tend not to blend well with people who have fun by taking from others. We just shared something intimate and were all about the giving and sharing, so it worked. If we'd all been looking out for just ourselves thre would have been jealousy and control issues and a certain lack of openness, and we all would have felt separate. Or I could be wrong. Never finished that degree."

"Ha! Funny. But it makes sense..."

"Tell you what - look at things that way the next time you do a ... lifestyle thing, and see what difference it makes. Now, if you don't mind too much, I have packing to do."

***

We exchanged cards, so we had each others' phone numbers and email addresses, but I spent the next week moving. Two days packing and labeling boxes got all of the heavy stuff out to the pod (and made me feel both more tired and more fit), and then I called the pod people (there were no Gelflings available) to pick up the unit and started taking more delicate stuff over in the car. I also called a locksmith to meet me there to change out all of the locks. When he called back with an expected arrival time (within two hours. Sheesh!) I took another load over and started arranging what was there by room.

The locksmith arrived almost on time, which was a pleasant surprise, and after I'd shown him around said he had everything needed in his truck, which was a more pleasant surprise. I let him do his thing, and kept working on my organizing using a floorplan I'd drawn on my laptop. I'd actually considered following the pattern for the house and offering him a blowjob, but he was almost as old as me, and unattractive. This would be the music room. This would be the game room. This would be the relaxing room. This wold be the art room. I needed a place for beach towels for people using the pool. I needed to count the number of spaces in the wine cooler to know what to stock. I needed to change out that horrible light fixture from something for posh dining to something better suited to pool and billiards. Reminder: Check out pool tables.

The pod arrived just as the locksmith finished (and he was pleasantly surprised to be paid in cash), which meant I was officially mostly now a resident of the house instead of the apartment. Note: Change voter registration and all that jazz at the post office.

Stack boxes here. Stack boxes there. Get things basically in the rooms where they were to go. Time to decide what colors to do each room in. Fuck - look at the time - nearly five o'clock and still 80 degrees and is there any beer in the fridge? Gods look at the size of the fridge! Order out for something, and change into something more comfortable if I'm gonna be moving furniture! And get the cable switched over so I'd have decent net coverage.

***

Three days later, everything had been moved into the house. I'd gone to the hardware store and grabbed a bunch of paint chips the first day, gone back the second day and gotten a pint of each of the colors I'd tentatively decided on, and the third day I contacted a painter, gone to the pool table company, called the IRS guy I'd met at the lotto office and gone to look at fancy beds. My bed had served me well for 12 years, and I'd kept it but put it in a guest room. I'd also lost about five pounds just from moving all of the furniture around and like it, so I looked on-line to find a good personal trainer. I had no reason to stay flabby now, did I?

I spent the fourth day doing a deep cleaning on the apartment. A couple of neighbors had noticed al of the moving stuff and the pod, but as I'd done most of it while they were at work, I doubt many had realized just who was moving. Gods, what a mess. The bedroom walls had been covered with bookcases for 20+ years, we'd had a termite infestation around the turn of the century, and they had cracked in a small quake in the early 90's, so I had to patch and spackle them. An hour to get the tub and bathroom floor sparkling clean. Two hours vacuuming, including inside the cupboards, then leave a text for my nephew - my favorite relative - and let him know that I had some money for him if he wanted to spend a day helping the old man with some spring cleaning.

A week later, the nephew came by and was shocked at the lack of everything at the apartment. But he helped me get the place in prime (enough) condition, and as I'd promised him some money for the help and as he was curious as he could be, I took him to the house with the cleaning supplies, gave him the grand tour and a check for a million dollars.

That was fun.

The next day the painters came, and the decorator came by to measure for curtains. Neither were at all physically interesting so I just worked with them on what I wanted done.

The next day the carpenters came to start building bookcases in the den. I had them planned in intricate detail and there were some questions about some aspects, but it was all do-able, and for once I didn't have to worry about the good/fast/cheap triad. They would be done in ten days if they could use the garage for a workshop. I had not trouble with that at all, as that was what I intended to use it for myself once I got settled. Being rich was exhausting, but exhilarating at the same time.

That night I stayed in the house for the first time.

The new bed had been delivered and set up, and I'd gotten new sheets when I ran down to Target for towels and toilet paper and al of that stuff, and I was more than willing to find out what a state of the art bed would be like. I spend a bunch of hours getting things set up as I liked, then showered and crashed at about ten or so. It took a while to find the most comfortable settings for the bed (settings for a bed! Twenty-first century problems) and left the window cracked a bit for a breeze, and was still amazed at how quiet it was here - no freeway noise, no helicopters, no people upstairs watching loud TV - and readied myself for the first night of complete comfort and relaxation in over forty years.

So you can imagine how annoyed I was when I was awakened in the middle of the night by the sounds of rowdy laughter, splashing water and the stench of cheep weed coming in my bedroom window.

Looking out my bedroom window into my backyard, I saw a gaggle of former teens playing and splashing in the pol and attached jacuzzi. I have to say 'former teens' because although they were clearly in their early twenties, they were behaving like teenagers in a party at the parents' house while the 'rents are out on vacation. I could see cans of beer, clouds of smoke, unwashed hair and bodies... people splashing and laughing in the pool, some swimming or playing, others just lolling in the jacuzzi smoking and drinking. Few wore anything at all, and from what I could see, most should have.

I grabbed a robe and my phone and went out to the main room and switched on the lights for the back yard, which elicited a round of jeers from by the pool.

"Turn the lights off!"

"But turn the pool light on!"

I stepped out onto the patio to look them over, and they returned the favor. The levels of disdain on either side were pretty even, given that they outnumbered me by eight to one.

"You're another friend of Mike and Tina? When will they be home?"

"They won't. They sold the house to me. You have thirty seconds to get off of my property before I call the cops."

One of the less unattractive girls climbed out of the pool and tried to slink toward me, her fake tits going well with the greenish-blue of her hair and the piercings I could see finishing off the whole look. "Are you sure you don't want us to stay? We could have a lot of fun!"

"I have a feeling my idea of fun and yours are wildly different. I do know that I prefer to have fun with people I know and respect. And definitely people I like. You don't have any of that. But you do have fifteen seconds to leave." I held up my phone and showed them the 911 code and put my finger over the 'call' button.

When they hesitated, I said "imagine the resources necessary to buy this house in this day and age. Then consider that I spent thirty years in the justice system after ten years in military intelligence. Then imagine what I could do to you if you stay. Five... Four... Threee... Two..."

By the time I finished counting they were gathering up their clothes and other accessories and running for the gate, still mostly naked. After they left I went to my room and grabbed an old padlock I had from my navy days and put it on the gate and made a mental note to get a better gate installed.

***

A week later the quarterly taxes were submitted, the insurance had been started, an electrician had put in better network cable and given me an estimate for a solar roof, a plumber had given me an estimate for a grey water system, the car had been exchanged for a new one that plugged in, one family member had found out about the change in status and the physical trainers were scheduled to show up for their interviews. I'd given them all the same day to interview, and had arranged twenty minute windows with a dozen different people - four hours of interviews - but as the temperatures were in the low 90's and I didn't have an office yet (the shelves were coming along very nicely), I got a big trash can and filled it with ice and drinks, put out beach towels, and got the interview forms organized on the pool table.

The first of the trainers showed up at eleven, almost exactly when their interview was to start. He was big and buff and tattooed and sure of himself and started off with "well, first we have to do something about your diet, and get you out and running" so I immediately crossed him off of the list of possibles, but we had a nice talk and during that talk two others showed up for their shot and I told them they could wait by the pool or go in if they wanted.

After the first hour, I had one person in the house and five by the pool. They averaged about thirty years old, very fit, and very energetic. All of them had, so far, accepted the invitation to hang out by the pool, and one had asked if I had a grill - maybe he could cook something up? - but I just said I hadn't been here long enough to furnish the patio, and I had a fully functional kitchen with access to the patio anyway. So he went out by the pool, grabbed another beer, and kept chatting up the others.

By half past twelve there were eight people on the patio and I was just finishing up another interview when someone pounded on the door. Everyone had rung the bell before that, but I guessed someone wanted a more dramatic entrance and after asking the interview to please wait went and opened the front door.

My ex was ... an interesting person. We'd known each other for nearly thirty years, and she came to me after her marriage ended with her husband 'running out on her.' I'd had a thing for her since the first night we'd met, and I'd been her fallback position through years of ups and downs in life and business. She'd moved away when local housing prices had gone too high to live comfortably, and she and her ex had lived in the midwest and put all of their energies into running their business... until he took off with a co-worker. She ran to me for comfort and I took her in.

Within a year, I discovered that she didn't want a husband or a friend - she wanted a nice house, a good car, and all of the creature comforts. She demanded that I take on a second job (giving up my music and writing), and then that I quit my job (just as my pension was due to mature) and look for something more profitable, even knowing that getting better jobs at my age was more than difficult. And she contributed less and less both financially, emotionally and sexually to the relationship until we had a major blow-up. I wanted a partner, she wanted a rainy day fund. I wanted a friend, she wanted a servant. So after about a year, she served me with papers and moved out, leaving me in a deep well of despair. My only advantage was that I knew most of the judges at the courthouse, so she left the marriage with exactly what she'd come into it with, minus one friend.

She re-married two months later - a guy with a very good income and no perception.

And now her agents had let her know about my good fortune, and she wanted to get something.

She was still good looking for a woman her age. She'd always taken care of herself, and the past five years had not changed that. Indeed, having a very good bank account had left her looking very youthful, except for deeper lines between her eyebrows and another different hair color (which always changed on a monthly basis anyway). She was trying to smile and look friendly, but I knew her face far too well to believe it any more. Or maybe I'd become jaded enough that I could not believe my eyes - my shrink and I had discussed that one at length.

"Hello" I said. "Twelve thirty-seven."

"What?"

"You can't say I wouldn't give you the time of day. Well, you have said that, but you were wrong. What do you want?"

"Can I come in?"

I shrugged. "If you wish." I bowed her into the house, and called to the interviewee "please wait by the pool with the others. Small personal emergency here."

She nodded quizzically and went out onto the patio, and I tuerned back to the Ex. "Would you care for a tour?"

She nodded tightly, and I led her into the house. "Living room at the front, of course. Kitchen and dining ahead, though you remember how little time I have for fine dining, so I converted it into a game room. Open plan kitchen connects to that, so it's all good for casual entertaining." We turned left. "Music room here - you probably remember some of this. They're working on the den here..." I led her into the den where the carpenters were putting in the shelving. "Not ready yet. All the books are in the garage." Back into the living area, and toward the living room where I waved her to a chair. "Pool and yard out there, master bedroom in that way, guest rooms upstairs. Do you like it?"

"It looks pretty rough."

"Only been here a few weeks, and looking at furniture and the like. Nothing is quite finished yet, but it's getting there."

She looked around, and saw a few items displayed.

"The Black Bird?"

"Not the real one, of course, but ... why not?

"You have our picture still up?"

"People who made me who I am, even if they're not part of my life any more."

That gave her pause, and for a moment she almost reminded me of the woman I'd married.

"Ah. And how ar your folks?"

"Dead. Yours?"

"Still around." She looked at the other shots, including me and my brother at a music festival we'd done a couple of years ago. I'd given her a copy of his forst solo CD, autographed by the band, before we married. "And your brother?"

"Also dead."

"Um..."

"It's been a rough couple of years."

While she was searching for something to say, the doorbell rang. I opened it to find a young person in really good shape there and told them to please wait on the patio, and saw a handful of people by the open patio door listening intently.

Going back, I sat down and looked her in the eye. "What do you want?"

"What do you mean?"

"You only come to me when you want something. What do you want?"

"I do not!"

"We haven't spoken since you moved out. You knew where I lived, and you still have your key. Now I have money, and suddenly you show up. Draw your own conclusion. What do you want?"

"I want my fair share!"