New Xanadu Pt. 06

Wednesday well before the crack of dawn, brought me the answer to the previous night's question. I woke to Martha's hands on my shoulder and her tongue in my mouth. When she broke the kiss, she said, "John, you hesitated before you told Mary No last night. Have you ever had a cock up you ass?"

"Huh? No, nothing more than fingers."

"Well, all Mary could talk about last night after you left was how she was going to fuck your ass. Sooner or later, she's going to get you to let her do it, too. I'd really like to be your first, and not just to beat Mary to it. How about it, will you let me peg you?"

That was one hell of a wake-up call. All I could think to say was, "Now?"

"Yes, now. We have a little over an hour before we have to get ready to leave. That'll give us plenty of time to do it right."

"Um, for you, okay. But I'll need to pee first. And I hope you have something smaller than Mary used on you last night, because I've never done this before."

"You'll need to do more than pee. I want you to clean yourself out. There's an enema kit in the top of the towel closet. I can help with that if you want."

"No, I think I can manage that." Weird. I'd eaten my cum out of this woman's mouth and cunt, and I was about to let her shove a rubber cock up my ass, but I was too shy to let her see me shit. It's funny how our minds are wired.

"Alright. As for something smaller, have a look." She opened her robe and there it was, a pink dildo attached to a harness, sticking out from her belly. "Here's the one from last night," she said, hauling a black dong out of a pocket in her robe. The one she had on was smaller, maybe an inch or two shorter and noticeably not as tick. "And don't worry, I promise I'll be gentle," she said with a leer. "Now, get your ass into that bathroom and get yourself cleaned out so we can have some fun."

When I'd finished in the bathroom I came out to another big hug and kiss from Martha. It was really strange to feel her cock pushing up against mine. But kind of exciting, too.

"Now, I want you to lie on your back in the center of the bed and spread your legs, then grab your legs behind your knees and pull them up a little. It might be a little easier to fuck you doggy fashion, but I know you like to watch my face when I come, and I want to watch yours when I put my dick in your ass."

I did as I was told, then Martha got one of their little lube plugs out of the bedside table and started pushing it into my ass. It felt pretty good as it molded itself to me, then melted. After that she climbed onto the bed and positioned herself between my legs. She moved her hips forward until I could feel her cock pressing against my asshole. "Gentle or hard," she asked.

"For Christ's sake, gentle," I said, and she began to push. Suddenly that cock felt a lot bigger than it had looked. Dammit, it hurt! Martha could see that from the grimace on my face, so she stopped pushing and said, "You'll like this a lot better once I get it all the way in you. Now try to relax your sphincter. I'm not going to put any more into you until you do."

Eventually I felt myself getting used to the pressure in my ass, and that must have showed on my face too, as Martha began to push again, gently. Suddenly, I could feel the knob of her cock press past my sphincter. "There we go, Hon, I'm in." She dropped down on to my chest and gave me a big kiss, then told me I could let go or my legs and try to wrap them around her, like she did when I was fucking her from the front.

After that Martha began raising and lowering her ass to pump in and out of me. The sensation of her cock sliding in and out of my stretched asshole was actually beginning to feel pretty good. "That's good, Hon. You look like you're beginning to enjoy this." Then she brought one hand down between us, grabbed my cock and started to jerk me. Between the sensations in my ass and her expert handjob I had no trouble coming, big. She scooped some of my cum off of my stomach and licked her fingers clean, then leaned in and kissed me, coating my tongue as well. Slowly she pulled back onto her knees, which produced a short of pop when her cock came out, and lifted my knees up and apart again. "I wish you could see this, Hon, you are really gaped. Next time I'll need to remember to bring a mirror so you can see. Now, I think we really do need to get cleaned up so we can go to work."

Once she got rid of her rig, and we were into the shower, she insisted that I return the favor by eating her out until she came.

Then the less exciting part of getting into the day began. We had breakfast coffee with paczki before Martha drove me over to the garage. On the way she asked me to call as soon as I knew which way the wind was blowing with Jack Doe. She passed me a card with her private number on it, not the answering service, and told me not to let anyone else see it. All very businesslike, or schoolmarmish. No goodbye kiss, but I was getting used to not expecting one outside the apartment.

Except for a few short breaks to clench my ass muscles and think back to my wake-up pegging, and the half hour I stole to put together the outlines of a business plan, my morning's work was involved enough to keep my mind occupied and my nerves down. At least I made it to lunch time without costing anyone any money. But when lunch time came, no longer distracted by work, my nerves started to act up. I really felt like skipping lunch, but my head said I shouldn't go to the Jack Doe meeting on a completely empty stomach. I figured I'd have plenty of time to digest before then, so I grabbed something at a restaurant near the bank. To this day I can't remember what it was.

After that I went back to apartment hunting. I got lucky, and took the first one I saw that afternoon. It was no-frills, but clean and within a reasonable walking distance from Mary and Martha's condo, though far enough off the water to be out of their high-rent district. It even had a garage space where I could park my car for an extra 10% a month, and was close enough to the L that I could leave the car and save the downtown garage fees when I felt like it.

It was unfurnished except for appliances, so I spent the rest of the afternoon buying furniture, linens and kitchen stuff, all to be delivered Saturday. That suited me just fine since I didn't want to leave the bedroom next to Martha's before I had to. Next I bought some toiletries and headed back to my new apartment where I cleaned myself up a bit. Then it was time to get back down to the loop and face the music with Jack Doe.

Jack Doe's office was, as befitted a man of his wealth and power, on the top floor of his very own skyscraper, with a magnificent view of Lake Michigan through its glass north wall. You got to it off the private elevator that led to a lobby the size of a tennis court with a board room off one side, and who knew what behind a closed door on the other side. (I found out later that it was his main frame computer, surveillance and communications systems room.) Behind the receptionist's desk was a door that led to Doe's private secretary's office which in its turn had the door to the inner sanctum.

Inside his office was a desk that would look appropriate in any Head of State's office, and behind that desk was a man of about 50 with olive skin and elegantly cut white hair. He was athletically trim, like a guy who played tennis or golf, or both, regularly. While his bespoke suit was probably worth the price of a small car, he had the power and confidence to have hung the coat on a rack in the corner, leaving him to do business in a very nicely tailored shirt and Christian Lacroix tie.

I crossed the office and stood in front of the desk, which had a single file folder on it.

"Mr. Doe, I'm John Walton."

"Yeah, I know" he said as he stood and stuck out his hand. I'm convinced that the handshake he offered was a power play, because while he stayed mainly upright I had to lean forward and sort of bow to him so that I could reach his hand across the desk. Once he had established who was boss here, just in case I hadn't figured it out already, he told me to sit down on a chair in front of the desk. Another power play, I thought, as his had to be a lot more comfortable than the one I ended up sitting in.

"So, Mr. Walton, are you screwing my daughter?"

"Mr. Doe, with respect, that's not what I came here to talk about. I'm hoping that you can spot the important questions and forget the ones that don't really matter."

"Look, John." Another power play. "You asked for this meeting. I don't have a lot of time, so try to use your head. I didn't say having sex with, I said screwing, as in screwing over. You want me to talk to you, answer my question."

"No sir, I am not screwing your daughter."

"Let's see about that. Says here," he said opening the folder, "you work at the bank where her trust is located. So, you know she's got money. You wouldn't be the first to go after it."

I started to protest that I wasn't that kind of guy, but he cut me off.

"Look, John, I said I don't have a lot of time. I do have a lot of money. Let's cut to the chase. He pulled out a big checkbook, wrote out a check and pushed it across the table. "Here's two hundred fifty grand. How about you take that and go away?"

I looked down at the check and pushed it back across the table toward him.

"Mr. Doe, I really am not out to screw over your daughter. I didn't know who she was when I met her in the SAA meetings that we both attended. I didn't know she was rich, though I could tell she was well off. Everybody there looked to be at least well off. Now I do know who she is, and that she's your daughter, and to tell the truth, I wish she weren't, because you, sir, could be a big problem. I don't know how to prove to you that I'm not out to hustle her or, God forbid, marry her for her money. No offense intended; it's just that she is not my ideal type and I really don't think I'd be comfortable with you as a father-in-law.

"Now, if I were after money, yours or hers, trying to buy me off for $250,000 seems a bit weak, in fact so weak that it's damned near silly. You know where I work, so you undoubtedly know that's only about a year's salary for me. Yeah, I'm going to have a bad year, and my soon-to-be ex-wife is probably going to end up with a chunk of my salary for a while to come. I suppose I should be offended that you would think you could buy me off so cheaply, but that's not important. However, if you seriously want to see if I'm out for money, why not make me a serious offer."

I suspect it had been a long long time since anyone had called Jack Doe silly; probably not since he'd graduated out of short pants. He sat there for a moment looking kind of grim, then his lips got razor thin and his neck turned red. I thought he was going to come over the table at me, but then he picked up the check, tore in in half and opened the checkbook. Without another word he wrote out another check and pushed it toward me.

"Okay," he said, "I hope you know what you're going. Because if you take this and make a play for more, you will find yourself in some seriously bad shit."

At the bank I'd seen checks for a million dollars before, but never one with my name on it. I looked up at him, looked down at the check, looked up again and said, "May I borrow your pen?" He put the cap back on the pen - a Montblanc 144, probably the solid gold version, I thought - and slid it across the desk, with a look of smug satisfaction. I wrote on the back "Pay to the order of Mary Doe" and signed it. Then I capped the pen and slid it and the check back across the table. He put then pen away, turned the check over and lost the look of smug satisfaction

"Alright, John, whatever the hell you're up to it's not the short con. For your sake, it had better not be the long con, either. Make your pitch, but remember that the clock is ticking." I could see where Mary had gotten her "three more sips and I'm out of here" attitude.

"Well, you have to understand that studying you has not been my life's work, so this may end up completely wrong. But a lot of this is based on me talking with Mary and with Martha, and they've both had years to study you. I'm hoping they got it right, otherwise this is going to be a much shorter meeting than I had hoped for."

He just looked at is watch, which I took to mean "Get on with it."

"I'm a sex addict, which is not your problem. Mary's a sex addict, which is. We met at an SAA meeting. I noticed that about half of us seemed like we didn't want to be there. So I made a plan as a means of providing safe and discreet sex for a bunch of us sex addicts who didn't seem to be adjusting too well to sexual sobriety, first among whom was myself. Coincidentally, if the plan works, it might make some money, but that's secondary. I pitched it to a bunch of people in the group, including Mary, and they are interested. And yes, there's up-front money involved, but I'm not asking Mary to kick in any more than anyone else, which for her amounts to nothing and for a me is all my spare cash, maybe more.

"Right now, most of them have said that the money is not a problem. But you are. They're afraid of you. So before anyone goes any farther they want to know where you stand on this."

He thought for a minute before saying anything. I was coming to suspect that this guy probably never had had an "impulse control" moment in his life.

"Do you think I love my daughter?"

Not what I had expected, but I replied, honestly and without any hesitation, "Yes. I have no doubt about that. I'm sure you love your daughter."

"You got that right," he said, almost wistfully. The he hardened up. "And that's a problem for me; make that two problems.

"First, I need to protect her from scumbags, maybe like you. Maybe you, maybe not. We'll see.

"Second, I've got to protect me, from her. And 'me' covers a hell of a lot of territory. I have a son who I love. My wife deserves all the love and consideration I can give her just for putting up with me. Then there's a bunch of aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews and cousins whose fortunes are tied to mine. On top of that I have employees, shareholders, suppliers, you name it, who all depend on my businesses being stronger than the competition. Anything that weakens me threatens all of those things and I'm the one who has to deal with it.

"Mary fucks around. Maybe you say, 'She's an adult, that's her business.' But when she fucks around all over town with anybody and everybody, that makes me look bad, and then it's my business. People say, 'Jack Doe, can't even control his own daughter,' they get the idea maybe I'm weak and they can make a move on me. Yeah, I love my daughter, and it would put a knife in my gut to have to lock her up. But if I have to, I will.

"So I'm listening to you because I really don't want to go there. Go ahead, tell me how you're going to ride in on your white horse and save my 'little girl,' and do me this big favor out of the goodness of your heart."

"Mr. Doe, I never have had a horse, and I'm no miracle worker. First, I'm not saying I can solve your problem with Mary. But whatever behavior modification you've tried clearly hasn't worked, and the SAA solution is about to fail. What you've got to understand is that, as Martha puts it, Mary doesn't just want lots of sex, she needs it. That's what an addiction is all about. Hell, you could lock her up and whatever way there was to get sex while inside, Mary would find it.

"Now, all I have is a plan to get lots of safe, discreet sex for people who want it and can pay to have it. My plan, which was there before I knew Mary and which I will push with or without her, might benefit her and, therefore, you. It might work for her, it might not, but that's more than I can say for the things you've tried.

"As for 'goodness of my heart,' please don't insult me. I made that plan for me, not for her or for you. Remember, I'm trying to find a way to be a happy sex addict, and what I'm trying to do could be called a sex addict's dream solution, and maybe that's all it will turn out to be, a dream. But whatever it is, call it enlightened self interest, which is a whole lot more believable than the goodness of my heart."

"Yeah," he said. "enlightened self interest I can buy. Go on."

"The quick and dirty is that we form our own sex club. A very elite, very private sex club where, aside from what I would call snob appeal, safety and discretion are the top draws. Mary told me you wanted a business plan. Here's the basic outline, if you want to see it." I pulled a folder out of my briefcase and pushed it across the table.

He pushed his own folder across the table to me and said. "Here, look at this while I'm reading your stuff."

I pulled my folder over and opened it. On top was a blow-up of my driver's license. Next was what would have been a really well-done resume showing my educational and employment background, except that my resume would not have had my current salary prominently stated. Below that was a copy of the Petition for Divorce that Gloria had filed on Monday. Hell, I hadn't even gotten that yet. Next, a report from a security company citing several State and Federal criminal databases in which they stated I did not appear. The next section was financial, including my bank statements for the past two years, reports from the 3 big credit bureaus and D&B. Then a report on every sex club membership I had taken out in Chicago over the past two years, with dates of my attendance and a couple noting who I had brought. Finally, a copy of my blood center records going back four years and, to my shock, the report on the blood work that Ron had drawn on Friday night; something else I hadn't seen yet. While the breadth of the information stunned me, that last bit set off some really loud alarm bells.

I looked up and said, "Ron works for you?"

"Quiet, give me a minute, I'm almost done here."

When he was finished, Doe closed the folder I'd given him and put it on his desk. "No, Ron does not work for me. He works for Mary and he is totally loyal to her, because I made it plain to him that if he wasn't it would be the last job he ever had in Chicago. He used to work for a company that works for me, but not now. And don't ask something stupid like 'How about Martha?' No, absolutely not. Martha is Mary's friend, the only one she has that I trust, and I am not about to jeopardize that friendship. As for where I got what Ron got on you, let's just say that he does very good work, but my people are at least as good.

"Now, as to this cockamamie plan of yours, why should I let you get her to put money into it. If she's going to fuck all over town, why don't I just have her make it another town. You say they already have high-end sex clubs in LA and New York. Why not I just make her go there?"

"Well, getting her to go would be your first problem, especially if you're also telling her where she can and can't spend her own money. She's kind of willful. It is her own money, and she's got her own plans, and those are in Chicago. Martha says Mary's a talented interior designer and has a real business doing that here. Beyond that, she may have gone away for college, and run away to St. Louis, but she keeps coming back here which says that this is where she wants to be. So short of having her institutionalized, I doubt you can make her go anywhere.

"Second, why would you want to make he go anywhere if she doesn't do anything to embarrass you here? You saw how St. Louis turned out." He'd let that first mention of St. Louis go by, but this one got a small flinch out of him. "If she stays here, at least you can watch over her and protect her better.

"Bottom line, if my plan doesn't deliver what you want, you might have to try those other things. But first you would do better to let us see if we can make our project work, for our sakes and for yours. That's my pitch."