Mr Computer Cleaner Ch. 04

"Oh, that must be boring and unnerving for a man. Are you inviting me in?"

"Er it's later, and your husband..."

"I never think this time as being late and don't worry about my husband – Alan came home late after drinking with friends and didn't even eat his lovely meal I had prepared. I would like coffee."

He stood aside and Leticia bounced in and immediately went in to the kitchen, dimmed the lights and pulled across the curtains of the window facing her house.

"I'll just have water," she said. "Coffee keeps me awake. You know I've been thinking; I turn forty in three months which means no younger man will consider me desirable."

"Desirable?"

"You know what I mean."

"I reckon is you dress well, keep yourself groomed beautifully and hold you weight in check you're haul in the casual guy for at least the next twenty years."

"Don't be absurd."

"I'm not – there always are guys out there looking for the opportunity."

"What is there about me that would attract them when I turn forty?"

Dio swallowed and looked at her breasts before asking, "More water."

"Kiss me and pull out these titties that seem to capture your eyes so much my lovely boy."

Dio decided he had no interest; that proceeding would be unfaithful to Carra but his rising dick betrayed him.

"Ooh, what have we here?" Leticia cooed, reaching for his bulge.

Dio kept telling himself no, no way but then she pulled down a strap of her nightdress and was pushing a boob at his mouth. He resisted by she was determined to have her way, reaching down and bringing her fingers up to rest under his nose before she pushed two of them into his mouth to crumble his resistance.

You're a weak lecher he groaned to himself as she pushed him firmly against the table and then pushed his chest with both hands, bending him over it. Well let her shoot a load into her mouth and she'll go home satisfied. But she simply sucked down on him no longer that ten seconds and leant over him and bit his left nipple hard.

"Ouch!"

Dio struggled to his feet and she stepped away, smiling at him and slipped her nightgown off, gloating at him. He snarled and lunged at her; she squeal not too loudly and he easily caught her, spun her around and began slapping her ass until she screwed her head around, he bent down and kissed her hungrily, They dropped to the floorboards in a tangle of arms and legs, his cock jerking as if eager to find somewhere to dock. It docked and Dio, fully aroused, engaged in one of the best fucks in his life, oblivious to his commitment to Carra. After they cleaned up and he sent her off Dio dropped into bed and went to sleep almost immediately.

* * *

In the morning Dio awoke, surprising himself by imagining his conscience felt clear, and worked clearing all of his taped messages. He was pleased: although his 'bulls-eye' newspaper advertisement that had drawn so much public response was not due to for its second insertion for another three days, the number of calls being received was increasing.

Word of mouth was at work, obviously.

Earl Smeaton, 17 Duckpond Road

Unshaven and probably unwashed, the very elderly Earl was near the front door patting a cattle dog. His weather-beaten face and ancient felt hat indicated he was a retired farmer.

Dio introduced himself and Earl cackled, "Say, I know you I think; weren't you were that useless boy runner who eventually made good – you used to practice on the overflow and had that little Indian lass keeping the stopwatch on you. I read the big write-up in the newspaper on you beating all the seniors. I don't forget those things because in my youth I ran professionally."

"What, for money?"

Earl looked at Dio kindly. "Would professionals run for anything else?"

Dio colored, and listened to Earl explain how young men in his day traveled in a circuit of towns on Saturdays and during the interval at sports events or even the Grand Parade at agricultural shows, they would compete, running for a prize of ten pounds, with lesser amounts for the other top nine finishers.

Dio suddenly remembered Earl, who used to graze his dry stock on the waste land – or the overflow as Earl called it. They chatted about those days and Earl reckoned there was a spot down there that he would have liked to build a retirement house on but the council would not allow any building on the land.

"It's a great site," Earl said.

Dio was left wondering what would be great about living down on the waste land.

Earl's problem was computer illiteracy. He'd purchased the old computer at what he called "a school clearing sale of redundant items" because his daughters who lived overseas had been urging him to get a computer so they could correspond by email.

"So you don't have a problem with porn?"

"Don't think so. What's porn?"

"Umm, show me what the problem is?"

All Earl required was tuition on how to reply to emails, send the reply, create new messages, send those off and how to check they were 'sent' as he didn't trust sending mail by machine compared with posting it in a proper mailbox at the post office.

Earl had a very large property, and when Dio was leaving he commented on that.

"Yeah, too big for me. I want to divide off a building site but the bloody Council won't let me. It says the waste water system is already over-taxed; bloody Councils!"

Philip Battersby, 10 Big Oak Crescent

As Dio drove up to the drive he saw who he presumed to be Philip Battersby taking sheets off the clothes line. Philip was wearing a suit.

"Thanks for phoning that you were coming but I am disappointed you didn't make it late last week."

"Sorry," said Dio, deciding not to explain that as a harassed town hero he'd had to leave town for three days. "I've been hit by an avalanche of work. Call-outs began at a manageable five to eight a day three weeks ago are hitting thirty. It's becoming impossible."

"Really?" commented the man who introduced himself as Philip. "That's amazing. Tell you what, you spend an hour working on my computer as a freebie, and I'll spend an hour talking to you as a business consultant – you will be a winner as my charge-out rate is one seventy-five an hour."

"Okay, but no textbook stuff mind you," Dio said and they laughed.

Philip had been a naughty boy. He explained that his girlfriend had been staying over and they had downloaded some free software to 'rip' some tracks off a DVD they'd hired – 'Frank, Susan & Trish's Weekend under the Blankets'. The 'rips' had disappeared on to the hard drive and Phil's wife Ella, who was the computer buff, was bound to find the naughty download. She was returning home that very night from a teachers' conference.

What should have been a simple 'search and destroy' mission proved to be a little complicated.

"What format did you save your rips in?"

"Dunno."

"What were the names you gave the files?"

"Did it so fast I don't think I gave them names. We had been drinking – rather a lot, actually."

Dio opened My Videos on the Windows XP operating system and found almost a hundred files, almost all about team leadership conventions and youth counseling.

"Not very promising is it?" commented Phil, looking very worried.

"If they are there, I will find them," Dio said. "We need this snifter software."

He loaded it and after a full search bingo, the files were revealed. Their headers were missing and even more confusing they were on c:drive rather than d:drive.

"Do I zap them?"

"Yes please," said Phil, looking decidedly relieved. "Then come out to the kitchen and I have coffee while we chat."

Phil asked numerous questions about Dio's business. He said it appeared from what Dio had said that although people watched him work on their problems, many appeared unable to replicate the key-stroking or did not possess the required 'tools', so Dio was bound to enjoy repeat business. In addition, other members of families might well have their 'confidential problems' and people would be always trying to expand their boundaries without possessing the requisite knowledge, so needed someone to help them sort it out. "Apart from that, what's in your favor is that for many, electronic sex is irresistibly invasive; it's addictive. I should know!"

Dio took a thoughtful sip of very strong and addictive coffee; it almost caused him to wiggle his toes. "Nice coffee."

"My wife's participation in sex is sub-par, but in maintaining home comforts, cooking and maintaining the coffee machine and buying the top quality beans she is a splendid performer."

"You don't need to be so frank with me, you know."

"It is my nature which is why I'll now tell you what to do. By that I mean not what I think you should do per se, but what I would do in your position; there is a significant difference. You should move to set up an administration centre, computerize it, engage as consultant, a good lawyer and a good accountant – though I guess the accountant is already in place. Then you should engage me as a business development consultant and then, as a team, we shall being to syndicate your business – of course, after registering the name. Then, in two to three years from now you should be a very wealthy man."

"What, as Mr Computer Cleaner?"

"Yes, why not?"

"Because ... because it's such a low level business."

"You're missing several vital points. Consider this: You've come up with a unique service; you have proven there is a demand for it; you are localized – there is potential to go regionally and then nationally."

Dio nodded in agreement.

"You said you charge-out rate is sixty bucks. Then increase that to eighty bucks, which is the rate people expect to pay. You as master franchiser skim of twenty bucks per call. Your willing little helpers pleased to be in business practically as their own bosses, will work their butts off for you and themselves. End of story. Any questions?

"Just one. When can you and I have our first business meeting?"

At mid-morning Dio drove into town conspicuous in his bright red ute, but he may as well have been invisible. He was not mobbed and the majority of people walked by without even a stare. He felt free, and realized fame was a little like one's potency – there today, gone tomorrow.

When he entered Coffee Exotic it was as normal. Celina waved him to a table and smacked her lips at him, while Mike unleashed the normal one friendly wave. Louise walked passed, looked in and waved to Celina but did not notice him. At this Dio was beginning to wish just a little touch of fame would be about right; being virtually ignored was not so good. He picked up the local paper not expecting to see his photograph or even his name mentioned, and was not disappointed. Just as he was about to toss the paper down a name caught his eye. It was under Births:

Manu, Richard and Margaret, a healthy beautiful daughter to be named Di. Ricky and Maggie thank the Home Birthing Team,

Dio dropped the paper and rushed out after Louise.

"Hi, sweetheart," she said. "I had imagined you would be in hospital being treated for acute over-use erectoritis, with the poor little thing all tied up in a splint. But they do have miraculous cures these days, don't they?"

"Yeah, yeah. And good morning to you, too, Louise. One of my clients has just had a baby – a girl. I want to take her a present but have no idea what to buy. She's a little small for a tricycle I would think."

Two minutes later they parted, Louise continuing on her way to the bank, Dio happily racing off to Mrs Tonkin's baby and infant wear shop to buy a pink cotton open-cell blanket for Maggie's baby. Louise had admitted that she still had hers, somewhere.

Dio had just sat down on the porch with a beer that evening when Carra phoned.

"Hi Carra; lovely to hear from you," he said, his conscience tweaking slightly.

"I want to come over, I'm desperate for sex and, oh, I've been missing you as well, really missing you?"

"Yeah. Come without knickers if you are really in a hurry."

Afterwards they sat out on the porch eating pizza.

"I better start looking for a job tomorrow," Carra sighed.

"Wanta work for me – sorry, with me?"

"What doing? I know very little about porn."

"Nah, administration manager with special responsibilities for partnership development, publicity and PR."

"Really? Has sex before pizza gone to your head?"

"Nope, I'm serious, very serious. It's a job that could fit you like a glove."

"You have to be joking?"

"The operation is going to be syndicated locally, then regionally. Once those initiatives are up and away we go nationally," said Dio, angling his head backwards and dropping a slice of pizza topped with bacon, tomato, basil and black olives into his mouth.

Carra, wearing a skimpy dress, went over to sit on Dio's knees. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"

He nodded.

"Okay.

"Right done; now, before more cuddles let's discuss the engagement party. What are your mother's impossible demands?"

Carra smiled, "Daddy and mama have told me to organize it. They would like it in their home but that's over to us. She's promised not to hire a marquee unless you request it. She would like to engage Bon Appetite Catering but that may not be your wish. I think that's about all – oh, they absolutely want to pay for everything. What do you think?"

"I'm not bothered and feel perhaps that doing all the organizing will interfere with our sex life and ... and..."

"Our business planning?"

"Yes, let's not forget our business planning." Dio, eyes shining brightly, pulled at her boobs and said, "Let's go inside, luscious one."

She pressed against him, matching curve for curve, as she heard him say: "Your mama is a clever woman. Tell her, if you agree with this, that I would like to invite sixteen people and it's over to her to do as she wishes. Just mention though that some of my guests may appear to be a little eccentric for her tastes, but that's life."

"Oh, you wonderful man," Carra said happily. "She'll love you for this. What are we doing still sitting outside here?"

"Change of location; it's lovely out here and I've locked the side gate. After a little cuddle here, I'm going to lay you across the table and..."

"Whatever you say, Mr Romantic. By the way, mamma wants me to stay back at home at nights but I kissed her and asked what she would do in this day and age if she were in my position. She rolled her eyes and said I should not be putting such disgusting thoughts into her mind, and said she would miss me."

Three weeks later the engagement party was held at the Fleming's home late afternoon on the last Saturday of the month (perfect timing as the main rugby and league matches were early afternoon games).

The day had dawned with light rain falling. When Carmen peeped through the curtains and saw that it was wet, her screams of frustration almost reached Dio's mother's house. Almost miraculously it seemed that the screams forced a climatic change, because the rain stopped and within a couple of hours the sun was drying the ground. By 11:00 Bon Appetite Catering received the go-ahead to proceed with an outdoor setup with tables and chairs to be placed under a huge open-sided marquee.

"Here they are!" shouted Cal at 4:45 when Carra and Dio arrived.

Dio was wearing a fawn silk shirt, darker fawn trousers and two-tone brown boat shoes, and looked exceedingly happy. He and Cal disappeared.

Looking like something out of a magazine 'What to Wear at Garden Parties', Carra was in a beautiful mottled blue and green silk dress that fitted her like a cocoon and white sling-back high-heeled shoes and a huge wide-brim white hat.

"Your dress sense seems to get better by each passing day," said Carmen as they kissed. She looked dressed to kill – a calf length black tunic, slit up on both sides well above her knees with a brocaded bomber jacket in the same fiery red as her long underskirt. Her raven colored hair was piled high, adorned with two magnificent heavy silver combs.

"We both look top shelf," Carra purred, envious of her mother's darker complexion when it came to dressing up. "I knew when I saw that tunic in the shop it had your name written all over it. But I'd hoped you would be brave enough to not wear an underskirt – your legs remain sensational, mama."

"Oh, you adorable child. The compliments are flying, so again I say I like your tastes."

"Not mine, mama – I was just the model. Dio picked out everything."

"Good gracious, isn't he more that just a pretty face," Carmen cooed. "Where is he?"

"I saw him and daddy going to the caterer's tent, no doubt to sample the chilled prawns and to test the temperature and strength of the beer."

"Why do they have to do that?"

"Why do women cooks have to taste the cake mix when they know exactly what they've put into it? It's just the thing to do."

"Oh, of course; you know when I awoke this morning and saw it was raining I screamed."

"I know."

"What? You heard me over at Dio's mother's place?"

"Yes."

"Oh my God, how very suburban on me!"

"Just kidding mama; of course I didn't."

"Thank goodness for that. You had me going for a moment. Oh, here are our first guests. They must be Dio's friends. Do you know them?"

"Yes, I do. They are real characters."

"Hullo Marion, Rivers," greeted Carra, and as they kissed Carmen wondered what the man's name was.

"Mama, these two literary people are my friends and also are known to Dio – this is author Mrs Marion Wells and her constant companion Rivers. Rivers, you are not to tell my mother any of those foul ditties unless she is properly drunk. Do you promise?"

"Is this your mother? Gawd, she looks like your young sister. And look at her body?"

Carmen didn't know whether to slap and hug the hairy man.

"Rivers what?" she asked, genuinely interested in the man simply because he looked and sounded interesting.

"Fork, ma'am."

"No, sorry. I meant your name."

"My name is Rivers Fork, ma'am." Taking Carmen's hand he said, "I'd lead you to the bar, but can't see it. Perhaps you will do the honor?"

"I think this fancy talk of yours is masking a naughty man," Carmen said, as she led Rivers away to the marquee, winking at her astonished daughter.

Marion wasn't at all upset to watch Rivers walking off with someone else. "I think he's trying to land more than he can handle there, don't you think dear?"

"Yes, unless he keeps his brain fully engaged and remains charming," replied Carra. "But one never knows with mama. I think there's something of a naughty girl deep down inside her. But tell me, how's the writing going?"

"Fine, I received an acceptance from a publisher in Sydney two weeks ago. Here, my darling, this is a little something from Rivers and me. I truly did make the Old Fart cough up."

Carra opened the package excitedly. It was a beautiful heavy silver photo frame.

"This is gorgeous, but really it's too extravagant for a struggling poet and a writer."

"Yes, perhaps that's our problem. We're not struggling – I own three commercial properties through settlements from failed marriages and Rivers owns five well performing country hotels."

"So you don't need to be writers?"

"Oh yes we do, dreadfully. It is our chosen calling. I didn't choose to own property and Rivers simply inherited his properties from his parents."

It was a great evening, with much gaiety. Cal tried to keep the sound system down but young folk kept turning it back up. Just before midnight, acting on a noise complaint, Sergeant Mick Philips and Constable Eve Burgess arrived to close the party down. But they relented and looked for an alternative when they found that one of the guests of honor was Dio. Eve also knew Carra as they used to play in the same hockey team.

Eve had a chat with Carmen before Eve went over to talk to the complainants. She came back, gave the thumbs up and the two women went back to the complainants' home carrying a tray of food and two bottles of wine. Eve and Mick stayed on for an hour to ensure their noise abatement policy was working – and to enjoy some refreshments. Mick had erected a taped cordon around the music centre. Wording on the tape read: DO NOT ENTER. POLICE INVESTIGATION AREA.