The Clinton Enterprises Saga Pt. 01

Dear Readers - Join me for a many part journey with the scion of a pioneer New England family as he and his brilliant female partners conquer the high tech startup world.

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The Clinton Enterprises Saga - Part 1 - I Visit Emma in Vermont

Chapter 1 - I Visit Emma in Vermont

"Alec," Emma said, "you can't get over sex. You can get into it, you can get out of it, but you can't get over it."

She looked quietly at me, her pale blue eyes tranquil. We were sitting on her veranda, looking out at Lake Champlain. Emma was the ninth generation of her pioneer family to inhabit this house and its land.

She was wearing a simple housedress with a faded blue flower print that matched her eyes. She didn't have anything on under the dress, which softly matched her womanly curves. I knew she was naked under there because I had seen her put it on an hour ago after our shower.

I asked her, "Would you like me to pour us some wine?"

There was a cooling breeze off the lake, chasing the away the remains of a warm, humid day in May.

"That would be nice," she said, rocking gently in her chair.

I wondered, as I walked to the kitchen, about the many mysteries of women, and especially my grandmother. She had been divorced by one husband, and widowed by another. In forty years of two marriages, she had produced one child, my mother, who had produced one child, out of wedlock, that was me.

I handed her a glass of a Sauvignon Blanc I had brought with me and asked, "So if I went to the monastery, took vows and wore my knees out praying, I still couldn't get over it?"

She took a long, slow sip and said, looking at me quietly, "Thank you for the wine, it's very good. There's Stilton in the back of the fridge, if you'd like some."

There were imported crackers as well. When I returned with the plate, she helped herself, still looking at me.

"Alec, I suppose you could flagellate yourself enough to wipe out anything, but sex would be one of the last thoughts to go."

We sat there, enjoying the cheese, the summer twilight, and thinking about not getting over sex.

I stood and walked over to her as if to get another cracker, but instead bent down, kissed her cheek, and said, "Marry me."

I went back to my chair and sat down. When I looked up, her gaze asked a question, "Why?"

I'd spent the day with her, gardening in the morning, and hiking up the neighboring mountain in the afternoon. Watching her lead up the trail ahead of me, I marveled at how fit she was. The EMS hiking shorts showed her strong limber legs. The rest of her was muscular as well. I thought to myself that she spent too much time alone.

She broke the silence, saying, "You think I spend too much time alone? Or I need a partner again?"

I finally said, "I desire you."

I paused, and added, "For more than one reason."

She padded over to me and climbed into my lap. "This feels strange, after so many years of my holding you on my lap."

I stood with her in my arms and walked into the house and up the stairs. In answer to the unasked question, I said, "I like the view in your bedroom."

I let her down in the middle of the room and carefully undid the straps to her dress. It slid to the floor by itself.

"Yes, I quite like the view in your bedroom."

I faced us toward the lake and ran my hands up her front, pulling her to me. She reflexively went to cover her breasts but I slipped my hands under hers and took a grip on a pair of amazingly firm tits.

She said, calmly, "Are you asking me, or telling me, we are going to have sex?"

I wove my hands through her hair and kissed the nape of her neck. "Which do you prefer?"

She reached behind and unbuttoned my shorts. My cock was hard in her hand.

She turned around and kissed me. "I guess it doesn't matter, does it?"

I opened the French doors and led us out on her deck, positioning her arms on the railing and me behind her. My fingers found juicy wetness at the apex of her thighs.

The sun had set and the shadows were lengthening. The lake filled half the horizon, a few wind ripples here and there.

"Do you mind if we enjoy the view while we do this?"

She wiggled her hard muscular ass at me in assent.

I plowed back and forth in her furrow a few times. Then found her opening and went straight in the full length of my cock. She made a small noise and shuddered. Her body seemed to be coming alive under me. Hands and feet moving and twitching. Nipples lengthening under my fingers. Her breath coming shorter.

I kept up a steady movement, trying to match my body to hers.

She half turned and said, "Please don't come too quickly. Can you wait for me?"

I whispered back at her, "Tell me when you want to finish."

I waited for a sign to resume and soon there was a nice squeeze and a push from her behind. I concentrated on firm thrusts with all of me built in to them.

Soon, she was squeezing and pushing on every stroke and then gasping, "Yes, yes, now, oh god yes."

In only seconds, I was filling her with hot come and she was shaking and moaning on my still hard dick.

She stood and turned, wrapping her arms around me and saying, "Hold me please, just hold me for a minute."

Finally, she looked up and said, grinning, "I'm dripping on the deck, I'd better get in the shower."

Grabbing my slimy cock, she led us to her bath.

Sex makes you hungry and we hadn't had any dinner before the grand encounter. Emma was peeling two potatoes and I was preparing a piece of steak for the frying pan when she looked at me and said, laughing, "Alec, you can't get over sex."

"Emma, you were so calm, sitting there sipping your wine. I thought you were making some existential statement to confuse me further about my sex life. Of course, you were a bit naughty in the shower before."

"How did you know I wasn't going to fight you off?"

I said, "Are you sure you want to know?"

She looked up at me, "Yes, of course. Am I that easy to read?"

"All right. Back when I was just beginning to do heavy make out with my high school girl friend, when we were seniors and eighteen, Beth told me that women tended to come in two types, those that were just naturally into sex, and those that had a streak of inhibition a mile wide. There was no point in trying to be intimate with a woman who thought she couldn't enjoy it. She told me to find a girl who wanted to get laid. Then she said that you and she always liked regular sex."

Emma finished dicing the potatoes and dumped them into a pot of boiling water.

"So that's all you had to go on, what I thought about sex when I was a young woman?"

I wrapped my arms around her and kissed under an ear. "Well, a guy who is chasing girls has to make a few guesses, doesn't he?"

While I wasn't looking, Emma fixed bearnaise, which turned steak and potatoes into something special. In her wine closet, I found a ten year old bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape, whose Rhone Valley harshness was nicely mellowed by time.

After eating, I gathered the plates and started the dishes. She said, "We could leave those for the morning."

I looked at her and asked, "Do you when you are eating by yourself?"

"No."

"I thought so. You're not a leave it for later person. Is the piano in tune? Do you remember teaching me about four hand pieces?" I kept washing.

"Yes. And yes. Shall we try some? I'm very rusty."

"I am too. Let's see what we can do."

I brought two glasses of sauterne to the parlor. She was digging through a large pile of sheet music. Finally, she came up with a Mozart that we both knew.

It went surprisingly well. As the notes died out, it seemed like the old house was happy to hear some old music. The square grand was almost a hundred years old, but played well. I asked her, "Isn't it unusual to have an expensive instrument like this way out in the country?"

Emma responded, "In the 19th century, one of my great grandmothers taught music at the local high school. I think her husband bought this so she could give lessons at home and earn extra money. My mother told me the women in the family had passed down an obligation to care for it. That included learning to play it."

She played a few soft chords and looked at me, smiling, "Generations of eight year old girls have sat here, grumpily practicing and being mad at their moms. Until she was fourteen, your mother hated it. Then Jeff took her to hear Serkin down in Boston and she came back in love with the piano."

"Come, let's go up and watch the moon rise. Bring the wine."

She used the bathroom, returned and dropped her robe on a chair before climbing in the rumpled bed. In the darkness, I handed her the glass of wine and sent a kiss with it.

Looking out the large windows and not raising her voice, she said, "You are a rogue, Alec Clinton. A complete and utter rogue."

I was about to say something in my defense, when she continued, "I thought I had wrapped up this sex thing and put it away for good. Then I innocently invited you to spend time here because Beth is in India. And you show up, full of energy and talk. And oozing sex appeal from every pore. You think I couldn't feel your eyes boring into my backside today?"

She paused for a sip of wine. "Then I toss my sweaty clothes down on the back stoop and use the outdoor shower, inviting you to share and save hot water like we used to when you were a boy."

I interrupted, "And I'm loving every caress of your soapy body, and you're making my grown up cock all hard."

She interrupted me back. "I knew before we ever had that conversation this afternoon that you were going to do me, and I was going to love it. Is your male ego expanded to know that?"

I put our glasses on the night table and pulled her to me. A new moon behind the house was casting shadows down to the lake.

She turned and ran her tongue over my lips. "I'm full of your wine and your stuff. I'm very happy and very sleepy." She added, stroking my limp penis, "But I want more of this in the morning."

Chapter 2 - A Sailing Adventure

My cock was nice and hard. The morning sun was shining on it, illuminating every veiny wrinkle of its surface. The dome shaped end jerked slowly, as if waiting for suitable prey.

But I was alone in the bed. I heard noises from the kitchen and wandered in that direction after relieving myself and pulling on shorts.

Juice and coffee were on the counter. Emma was whisking eggs. "Do you like yours hard or soft?" She smiled at the pun.

"Extra gooey will be fine. Should I make toast?"

We took our plates out on the porch. The lake was just as beautiful in the early light as it had been at sunset last evening.

We ate for some minutes without speaking, enjoying a comfortable, quiet moment. There were bird sounds all around. Squirrels in the oak next to the porch were screeching at Tom, the orange cat who visited now and then from the farm over the hill.

Emma said, "I could call cousin Charlotte in Burlington and ask if the sailboat is usable?"

"Marry me."

She padded over and climbed into my lap again. It was the same hard body and the same simple flowered dress. And no underwear.

"You don't have to marry me to get all the sex you want. You're very handsome. You turn me on."

She took my hand and moved it under the dress and into her sex. Her clit was hard and her pussy was damp. Our lips sought each other and joined wetly.

I said to her, softly, "It's implausible that a grandson desires his grandmother so much that he decides to marry her, isn't it?"

I tongued her lips and gently tweaked her closest nipple while she thought about that.

Very softly, she answered back, "Yes. Yes, it's more than implausible. On the face of it, it's impossible."

I buried my face in her neck, rocking quietly.

"Emma, I have some things to talk to you about. Things to think about. Why don't you make that phone call and I'll start gathering the makings of a picnic lunch. On a day like this we can have a lazy sail and talk."

"Alec, you have a way about you that makes a woman feel good. If I was your age again, I'd be making sure you didn't get away. I want you to tell me why that girl broke up with you."

She nibbled on my ear as she stood up and went to the phone.

It was less than an hour's drive to the small marina. The family sailboat, maintained for years by my cousins who lived in town, bobbed in its slip. Emma had taken Beth and me out in it many times when we visited. She was a very competent sailor, and fearless around water, unlike her daughter. Beth liked sailing in the abstract, but worried too much about capsizing, running aground, falling overboard, and other unlikely events.

I took after Emma, and we shortly were sailing out of the harbor on an unnaturally calm, warm day for New England. She said, "You haven't forgotten about sailing, have you?"

I opened a beer and handed it to her. "You taught me well. I won a lot of dinghy races on the Charles in school."

She gave over the tiller, arranged some cushions for us, and lay back on me with her straw hat tilted forward. She had boy shorts on. Crimson, in some nylon fabric that looked amazing. I knew that she was coming up on fifty-nine, but no stranger would ever guess that looking at her. She took my free hand and kissed the back of it before laying it across her front. From under the hat, her voice said, "We can sail, we can eat, we can talk, we can do some other things too. What is your pleasure?"

The wind was barely enough to fill the sails. I headed off to the south on a broad reach and sipped my beer.

"I don't really know where to begin, but let me ask you, is it ok for me to be here, intruding into your art and artists and lifestyle? You're very well known now, and I don't want to be a nuisance or a distraction."

Her warm hand slipped up inside my shorts and caressed my cock. "You are definitely a distraction. This great thing of yours has caused a big upset in my life. In my artistic life, as you put it."

I said nothing and she continued, "Ever since last night, I've been asking myself why I let sex slip away from me." She tried to squeeze again, but there wasn't room in there for her hand and my erection at the same time. She pulled her hand free, undid my zipper, and just pulled me out into the sunshine. Then she leaned over, still under the brim of the hat, and took two or three good sucks from the oozing head.

She rolled over and sat up straddling me. "Are we supposed to be having a serious conversation, or are you just going to tell tales that make me horny?" She rubbed herself on my cock, which made it bigger and harder.

I eased her to one side, went forward, and dropped the sails. I took one of the life jackets, knotted the end of the jib sheet into the straps and threw it overboard. "Just in case someone needs flotation," I said.

I dropped my shorts and put my knees on either side of Emma. She closed her eyes and I licked her face while I removed the crimson shorts and undid the halter top. Both of her hands had hold of me, pulling and twisting. Her hat was askew and her long hair was splayed out on the cushion. The hair between her thighs was neatly trimmed. I wondered if that was a recent change.

The sun was warm on my back. My throbbing cock wasted no time in finding its target. As I eased into her, she whispered, "Yes, please. That's very nice."

I said, in an aggressive, typical male voice, "Lady, do you want to talk or do you want to fuck?" I firmly buried myself in her. "I can do one or the other, but not both." I withdrew and plunged back in. My fingers were busy giving her boobs a workout.

She pinched my ass and smiled, "You're a pretty lousy fucker that can't do two things at once!"

I stepped up the pace, my cock making giant squishing noises as it went in and out. Emma moaned and twisted under me, humping and exclaiming, "Good for nothing bastard. Brought me out here defenseless so you could fuck all day." Before she could get any more words out, a convulsive orgasm seized her and she screamed to the limitless sky, "Oh god, I'm coming, coming, coming."

As our panting died out, I had a sudden idea and with one arm tightly around her, rolled us over the coaming and into the lake with the other.

We came up thrashing and splashing. "You devil, I didn't say you could do that!"

"We needed to get all that sex juice washed off before it smelled up the boat. Charlotte would not approve."

She put her arms around my neck and tried to dunk me, but I had one hand on the boat rail. With the other I rubbed hard between her legs. She kissed me and said, "Keep doing that. You've turned me into a complete slut."

I boosted her into the cockpit and crawled after. I toweled her down and grabbed the lotion. I poured a generous stream down my front and pulled her onto it. Then more on her back which I used fingers and thumbs to spread and massage into her tight muscles. She sat up and reached for the picnic basket.

"I'm hungry and I'm ready to talk about whatever you want to talk about."

Reaching for the sandwich she offered, I said, "Driving up here, I was in a real funk. Partly Janice dumping me, partly my work, partly money."

When I paused to take a sandwich bite, she said, "You certainly don't seem to be in a funk now." She snapped a finger at the end of my cock and made me jump.

I caressed the side of her face and said, "I don't know whether you are the problem or the solution. Let me continue."

"Last year, one of my patent applications from grad school was approved and about a month later, an agent approached me to license it to a Korean mega-electronics company. I'm not very knowledgeable about these things but since the Koreans were talking seven figures, I found my own agent. The short version of the outcome is that I have guaranteed royalty payments of $5 million a year for five years. And a bunch of other options which probably will double that."

Emma said, "My grandson is rich. Why are you hanging out here when you could be in Paris with a pretty girl on your arm and in your bed?"

"I do have a pretty girl on my arm, and your lake is better than the Seine."

I took another bite and we stared at each other. I ran my fingers through her damp hair.

"Having millions in the bank is a problem."

She laughed. "Most people would say a nice problem."

I ignored that and continued, "You and Beth raised me to think that work was important. Both of you work hard. Now, I don't have to work. I haven't figured out what that means."

Emma finished her food, leaned back between my legs and put the straw hat back in place. She grasped one of my hands and laid it on her breast. A warm, firm breast drenched in oily lotion, with a circular top sticking up out of it. From under the hat, her voice said, "I'm still listening. When do we get to the good part?"

I wondered about the hat routine. Did it give her conversational perspective? With her head nestled in my crotch and my fingers gently twisting her nipple, there wasn't much physical distance between us.

"Am I supposed to titillate you at the same time I talk to you? You said you wanted the story of my breakup with Janice. Should I tell you that now while you think about my work future?"

"Yes."

She added, "You have to promise that if I fall asleep, you won't get mad. I am interested in your stories, but you've brought me out here on a warm sunny day, made love to me, lotioned me, fed me and I'm slipping away."

Hmmm. Now that you mention it, maybe a little nap would be a good idea.

The breeze coming up woke me. The dark squall line on the horizon mobilized me.

"Guess what. We'd better skedaddle back to the marina as fast as this thing will go."

By the time we had clothes on and the sails rigged again, the sun was gone and the wind rising. Luckily, we were getting a close reach back. I buried the leeward rail and asked Emma to get her life jacket on and help me with mine. She quickly repacked the picnic things and tied them down along with other loose items.