Monet Inspires Novelist

"Oh I did love the mother of your principal character in 'Flora's Floral PJ's'. Um..."

McNeill waited patiently for Donna's brain to grind into gear, as did Monet who finally called, "Lorelei", earning a cutting glance from her mother.

"Oh yes, thank you Monet," Donna said, shooting a grateful smile at Monet for all to see.

"Does anyone happen to know the meaning of that name?"

The three nearest McNeill looked blankly at him. Monet sipped wine.

"Monet?"

Donna sighed. "She'll know, Monet knows all sorts of things but not relevant things to gain top marks in exams."

"Tell us Monet," Lisa urged.

"No it's too much like showing off."

"Say it otherwise I'll squeeze it out of you," McNeill said.

"Oooh," Monet said, mainly to rev up her mother but Donna's shoulders slumped as if she'd thrown in the towel.

"Mom knows but she's been so busy preparing for your neighborly visit her mind is having a wee rest. It's a name of German origin and means siren or romantic people prefer the alternative meaning of an alluring enchantress."

McNeill leaned forward and said very good and asked if she knew what his first name meant?

"No but I'll guess, son of Neil?"

"Correct. It's Gaelic and my paternal grandmother who was an O'Neill persuaded my father to call me that and mom says she gave in, being outnumbered."

"Well I'd say you have honored your grandmother in the way you have carried that name," Donna said. "It was a lovely wee story. More salad anyone?"

"Yes please Donna. That really was a lovely thing to say to me."

"My darling Harry taught me to be romantic," she said, flushing.

"Sex I mean firing up emotionally was practically unknown to Donna when I first met her but I found her to be a quick learner," Harry said, looking at his wife affectionately, unaware his daughters were gaping.

"There you can write that into one of your novels," Monet said. "McNeill feeds off in the literary sense and in the nicest possible way the people he meets I believe."

"Monet don't exaggerate and please call our guest Mr Pax until he decides otherwise."

"Lisa and Monet, please call me McNeill. And what Monet has said is true and in fact very accurate. I use my eyes, nose, ears and associations to inject realism into my novels as I believe most if not all authors do. Unless they did their readers would think the setting was in the Planet Castillo and the characters were from there."

Donna said there was no planet called Castillo and McNeill smiled and said she was correct... it hadn't yet been discovered and named. He said it was true he'd moved into the neighborhood to try to base the setting and some of the characters he met in the new novel he was about to start. "I lease houses for six months, complete my novel and then move on. The McPhee's believed it was better getting a good rental from their house next to you rather than letting it remain unoccupied at the end of their unsuccessful sale marketing program. Their Realtor will resume marketing in the spring when I leave."

As McNeill was leaving, kissing and lightly hugging Donna, he called, "When do we next run Monet?"

"At 4:30," Lisa said. "I usually go with her on Sunday afternoons but will drop out if you're aiming to get your lecherous arms around her."

"Lisa!"

"It's okay Donna," McNeill laughed. "Lisa is just joking. Monet doesn't particularly like me."

"Monet tends to largely go in the opposite direction to most people," her mom sighed. "Just be kind to my daughters and remember Lisa is only seventeen."

"Mom you come too as chaperone," Monet smiled and Donna laughed so heartily her breasts took on the behavior of jelly. "God I'm half drunk," she giggled, attempting to grab her boobs to bring them under control.

CHAPTER 2

Two Sundays later Monet waited at the gate for two minutes before McNeill came out and loped up to her after slamming the door shut.

"Good morning," he smiled. She held up her face and was lightly kissed.

"Do you think of sex when you kiss me?"

"God no, your mom would kill me."

"Would not that be a romantic way to die?"

McNeill had a quite thought and came up trumps. "I'm a guy who prefers multiple choices."

He laughed and Monet giggled and told him she was content for him to set the pace.

"According to the forecast today will be a scorcher. Will you bare your tits over your computer tonight?"

"I might but don't your prefer the word breasts or even boobs."

"Not when I'm with you."

"Well then call mine tits. But let mom hear you using it and she'd come after you with an axe."

"Monet may I ask have you thought about attempting to write a novel? I suspect you will succeed if you stick at it because you tend to speak graphically and that ought to mirror in your writing."

"You have to be a great story-teller to succeed as a published author. We learnt that at school."

"How good are you as a story-teller Monet?"

"I have no idea."

"Then shouldn't we find out? Please let me get your going."

"We studied novel writing at school. I believe I know all there is to know, um technically."

McNeill snorted, "That's bullshit."

"Oooh, are we having a romantic conversation?"

Monet don't be mad at me. Just do two things for me: Show me your tits tonight and let me coach you about novel writing."

"Okay. Can you speed up a little? The conversation is great, being with you is great but the pace is a drag."

"Um you are sincere about that comment me being with you is great?"

"Yes of course. You are the most interesting guy I've ever met by a long shot. Now we are slowing... for fuck sake McNeill, could we have a bit more pace?"

Without replying McNeill lengthened his stride and they were away.

When they stopped for a breather he asked, "What is your attitude toward sexual relations?"

Monet was in like a shot. "Are you thinking about fucking me?"

McNeill took a step backward in shock. "Monet how could you think such a thing?"

"Because I'm romantic?" she asked, raising her voice level at the end to ensure he realized that was a question.

"Er let's skip that. You must understand I asked the question as part of literary research."

"Oh yeah?"

"Monet please react calmly about this. Are you aware your mother thinks she's attracted to me?"

"Think? I know she is. Just apply the charm and you'll be in and I'm not joking."

"Oh god. She comes over most mornings when you guys have left home."

That jolted Monet because it was news to her. "On some pretext?"

"Yes."

"Thereby interrupting your work flow because you write best in the morning?"

"Yes," said McNeill, looking at Monet closely. "You appear to have great understanding."

"Oh I get by. Wouldn't you rather fuck me than my mother?"

"Yes of course... oh god what am I saying?"

"One means adultery and the other means toy girl, so I see me being the logical choice if you wish to keep your conscious clear. But if you touch mom you could be in danger. As a young guy dad trained in unarmed combat and if he managed to get you on the ground he could finish you or perhaps back off and just crippled you."

"You father? He's tubby, conservative and not very motivated."

""Mom told us that dad made a bit of a play for her and her older brother told him to back off and so dad went off to learn how to deal with any guys who threatened him. Several months later he appeared on the scene again and when big brother told him to beat it dad said make me and seconds later big brother lay on the ground screaming in pain. Mom and her mother raced out and told my Uncle Joshua he'd gotten his comeuppance. Mom was allowed to go out with dad that very next weekend."

"Oh whoopee."

"What?"

"Don't you see... you are the family I've been looking for?"

"Us? We're not interestingly dysfunctional?"

"No you're not but you are no ordinary suburbanites. You are the interestingly opposite to being dysfunctional. You guys but I'm not sure about Lisa yet are full of interesting sayings and colorful backgrounds and I have yet to meet your elder sister."

"McNeill, promise me anything you write about us won't be recognizable to us."

"Yes I promise. I'm skilled enough to do that."

"Right so when do you and I have sex?"

McNeill shuffled and looked as if he wished he were running.

"Monet, please... I'm too old for you."

"Coward," Monet screamed and was off like a rocket at a pace McNeill could only dream of achieving. He stood, appalled, that a nineteen-year old wanted him to have sex with her. No way, absolutely no way. She was almost under-age.

That evening he watched as Monet came into her bedroom. Removed her top and bra and stood as closely as she could to the window, leaning over her desk to display her uncovered breasts to him. Her expression was defiant and then she closed the drapes.

McNeill whimpered. Yes and that shocked him. He whimpered again.

Next afternoon thirty minutes after Monet arrived home from work she sat with her mother, who chose not to hold down a job, at the outside table having coffee.

McNeill came in through the side gate and kissed both women on the cheeks and then announced he was there to begin teaching Monet about novel writing.

Donna looked surprised but said nothing. She stayed for fifteen minutes while McNeill discussed some of the principles of character development and then Donna excused herself and went off to read.

Monet whispered, "Unzip and show me your cock."

"Monet," he squirmed in his chair.

"I'll give you time to get an erection. Here look at my tit," she said, baring one.

McNeill swallowed and didn't look away. After a few minutes he unzipped and pulled out his erection.

"Very impressive. What's it like to lick?"

"I can't reach it, not being athletic enough."

"Oh yes, of course. Now please remember I'll require this procedure each time you lecture me on novel writing. Put it away before mom sees it and comes running with a meat cleaver."

McNeill fumbled dreadfully in his efforts to pack it away. He'd turned red-faced.

"I'm prepared to follow your unusual request but we are too exposed out here."

Concealing her triumph Monet said, "Then we must meet at your place and remain concealed."

"The purpose of this association is to coach you."

"I know. But slowly we'll progress until you are lecturing with both of us nude."

McNeill swallowed hugely but interestingly he didn't reject Monet's proposal.

* * *

Two weeks after McNeill pulled out his dick for the first time for Monet he said he'd like to see her play soccer.

"You don't have a car so I'll see if there's a spare seat on our bus. We fill the spare seats with supporters whenever we can."

"I-I'll rent a vehicle and slip in unnoticed."

"It's at Fenton only ninety-five miles away so it's not worth hiring a vehicle."

"What will your friends think when an old guy turns up with you?"

"They'll simply assume you are fucking me and so will accept you."

"Fucking you?" McNeill croaked.

"Yes my girlfriends are rather like me, coarse," she grinned.

"I think I could cope with that," he said nervously, "so long as your mom doesn't hear the rumor and come after me with her meat cleaver."

Monet frowned. "Mom doesn't possess a meat cleaver. She buys our meat at the supermarket already cut except for roasts and dad carves those."

McNeill chose not to remind Monet that only a fortnight ago she'd warned him about the possibility of her mom coming after him with a meat cleaver.

When boarding the bus McNeill received a few stares as any stranger would expect and when he sat beside Monet he assumed everyone looking would assume he was her uncle, her youngest uncle. A dyed blonde with large tits came down and said to Monet, "Maria wants a chat. I'll swap seats with you."

Monet looked surprised but went off after whispering to the woman, "Now no bullying." Only by straining had McNeill heard that.

"I'm Maxine. Who are you?"

"McNeill is my first name Maxine."

"Oh so you are supposed to be the sexy Mr Pax that Monet has told me about?"

"Supposed to be?" Oh come on Maxine there is no need to be jealous."

"Look here buster, you harm our soccer star and you'll answer to Maria and me. We'll crush you like peas in a pod."

"Don't you mean a pea pod?"

"I know what I mean."

"I guess you do. You have lovely hair."

"Thanks."

"Why do you call Monet your star?"

Maxine stood to return to her seat. "Just keep your eye on her today. You'll see. Are you sleeping with her tonight."

"No of course not. We return home this evening."

"The host team entertains us to 10:00 or so and then we sleep at a motel and return home in the morning. It's tradition you know."

"No I didn't know. I'll wait till Monet tells me what I'll be doing."

"She's been waiting for the opportunity to have sex with you and this is it. She's been too worried about touching you in case her mom finds out and shoots you or something."

"Shoots me?"

"Gee you are green for a guy. Don't you know how mother's react when they feel one of their brood is threatened whether it's be a sleaze ball or not?"

She walked away and McNeill felt rather shaken at the possibility, a distinct possibility, of being regarded as a sleaze ball. How the hell could he worm his way out of this?

Providence took care of it for him.

McNeill joined the supporters off the bus to sit in a group knowing they'd be heavily outnumbered. A woman said to him, "You are with Monet Davidson aren't you?"

"Yes... I confess to being the sleaze-ball."

The teams were running out and cheering drowned out the last part of his reply.

When the noise died the woman said, "See those two women standing just short of the sideline attempting to look inconspicuous?"

"Yeah, one looks anorexic and the other looks really bubbled."

"Do you wish me to inform you or not?" the woman said coldly.

"Oh please excuse me, my levity appears to have gone amiss."

She smiled and said she had two of his books, 'Sergeant Belinda Croix' and

'Bernie's Diner'. "You write beautifully but the strain of doing that perhaps explains why you are a bit of an asshole as a person."

"Forgive me ma'am for I have sinned."

"Perhaps a loveable asshole to those who get to know you. I'm Maxine's mom and she came back to us after talking to you practically weeping. She said you said she had lovely hair and Maxine said no guy has ever paid her a compliment like that."

"Maxine is okay. She just needs to slowdown from attempting to grow up too soon. She has the breasts guys will go for."

"God McNeill, keep your voice down. You are embarrassing to talk to in public."

The sleaze ball/asshole said to Maxine's mom, "You were saying about those two women?"

"Oh yes, they are soccer scouts. One of the leading teams in the WPSL out East is urgently looking for a replacement central midfielder. Those women are here to assess your young lady. Come up and sit alongside me but please don't grope... I've heard stories about you writers with uncontrolled sexual urges."

"Grope you with you wrapped up like that? You have to be kidding."

"Sit beside me and shut up asshole," she laughed.

Lindy Vickers found McNeill didn't have a clue about soccer and kept him informed about some of the moves and towards the end of the game she kissed McNeill and said Monet was having a cracker.

Their team won, 3-2 and McNeill saw Monet break the 2-2 score-line with a curling 30-yard high pass that went to the left of the crowded goalmouth to drop down in front of the left winger who took it in a header. The ball deflected down from the crossbar to drop into the net, a sensational winner.

The main crowd fell silent in shock and the small band of visitors went crazy, as did the visiting team.

"The players will be at least an hour cooling down and listening to their coaches and then showering and sitting to relax, Lindy said. "I'm a Soccer Mom and a win always makes me feel sexy. Do you wish to come with me, I have been here before and there are several dressing rooms that will be unused."

"Yeah, sounds good," McNeill grinned, never one to turn down an opportunity.

Lindy kindly sat on the massage table after pulling her panties down for McNeill, who quickly kissed her and then went down on her as she gave him little option, slamming his head into her groin with a big push.

She tasted okay and he began sucking heartily and using a couple of fingers. She groaned, pulling at his hair and began lubing copiously.

"Oh come on darling," groaned the slut (and what did that make McNeill?). "Please shove it in and pump."

They banged each other as if there would be no tomorrow and were rather noisy but fortunately no one came near apart from a caretaker in one of the toilet cubicles facing them who left the door open and whacked off, watching them.

Lindy and McNeill came copiously and licked the sweat off each other's face. They cleaned up and left and as they went through the door the old guy in the toilet groaned and at last achieved some result for his hard work.

"You fuck really well Lindy, putting more effort into it than many women do."

"Oh thank you darling man," she cooed.

McNeill reached behind her and grabbed a handful of ass and squeezed.

"That's enough McNeill otherwise you'll have to take me back and fuck me again."

"Um at what stage will the players be at?"

"Almost ready to go in to eat. Our bus fares included payment to eat with them, courtesy of the club."

They decided they were hungry and choose to head for the food instead of heading back for more sex. Also they didn't wish to be conspicuously missed and childless divorcee McNeill was a little ashamed of having just committed adultery.

Holding a beer and handing Lindy and white wine they watched the players filed in. Maxine came up to her mother, still red-faced from exertion at having played tirelessly as a defender, and kissed her and turning to McNeill puckered her lips and so he kissed her.

"You kiss better than mom."

"It's inevitable daughters would say that."

Maxine laughed and told her mom, "You could do well associating with this guy because he's on your wavelength, he's a brain."

Lindy's expression didn't change.

McNeill began looking for Monet and saw her enter with the two scouts and leave them and head to him.

"Something big has come up, really big."

"What those scouts will report on you favorably?"

Monet frowned and then realized what McNeill was talking about.

"They are not scouts; they are the manager and head coach of the Vermont Maples. They want me in Burlington to begin training with the team this Thursday and have arranged for a contract to be faxed to dad to have it checked out. The offer is more than tempting; it's what I want and the next step up will be into professional soccer. They are so desperate to get me they have organized a sponsor, a women's sports store where I'll work when I'm not required to train or travel in connection for soccer. The Women's Premier Soccer League is a body for amateur soccer."

Lindy had heard the news from her daughter and came over and hugged Monet and congratulated her warmly. Monet urged her not to say anything until an announcement was made in a few minutes.

McNeill didn't know what to think. Instead of jumping out of her skin in delight, Monet appeared calm and focused although she did place her hand in his. God she was a professional sportswoman to the core.

However, when the announcement was made she yelled and screamed as much as the players not in the know who rushed her. Monet made a bubbling speech saying it was her intention to accept once her family's attorney approved the contract details. She spoke emotionally thanking her club for its support and to her coaches for the guidance they'd given her to sharpen up her prowess.