The Sins of the Fathers Ch. 22

***** Writer's note: This chapter introduces Nikki to Jessica. It's light on incest (at least the kind where daddy's pants are around his ankles) Enjoy!

THE LADY IN RED

Jack still smelled like bubble bath the next morning, not that it particularly bothered him. At least, not at first. He walked out of his house smiling, buoyant and looking forward to a great day. Bathing your daughter is a great fantasy. On the other hand, bathing with her is the material of ... the stuff of which divorces are made... No, already have one of those ...

The stuff of which criminal charges are made? Nope, not if it is 'just' a bath.

Once more his legal training kicked in, forcing him to dwell on a host of disagreeable consequences. However, if the ex-wife/mother ever finds out, even if it was just a bath it might become the reason or mitigating circumstances for justifiable homicide. Oh yeah ... there is definitely that possibility. Shit!

Try to remember, lawyer, that the courts are not the only dispenser of justice in the real world. There are other types of justice more swift and sure!

Goddamn it! That's enough of all this self-examination. It was a fucking bubble bath—nothing happened; and, I'm not gonna spend the rest of my day worrying about it!

Although, I did spend most of the night dreaming about it!

He started the Jeep, hitting the speed dial for 'Just Jess'. "Hey, you! Ten minutes or I find another poor college student to take shopping."

Jessica met Jack at the door of her parent's house. She was in a very short red-leather skirt and a red sleeveless-top with a turtleneck. For walking, she'd chosen a pair of simple string-sandals with small beads.

As soon as they got in the Jeep, she leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Umm, you smell good!"

Mentally, Jack winced; but, he covered beautifully. "Uh ... seems I ran out of shampoo, so I grabbed a bottle out of Nikki's bathroom. Oops! Turns out, it was bubble bath. I didn't think I'd ever get the God Damn suds out of my hair."

He gave her his best smile, dismissing the episode entirely. "So are we off to The Mall?" he asked. He looked at his watch. On time, 10 a.m. on the dot. Just a couple of hours of shopping with time enough left over for an afternooner. Nice!

Jessica tousled his hair, "Jack, has it been a while since you took a woman shopping? No, we're not going to our beloved little burg's collection of Outlet Stores. I've got a surprise for you; I was so excited about this, I actually got my schedule switched with somebody else. Today, I've got all the time in the world. The nearest MAX station, please." She patted his cock, so he wouldn't get grumpy because she'd spoiled his scheme.

"The MAX?" This isn't what I planned. Shit, there still goes my afternoon. I mean, there goes our afternoon. Shit, no afternooner! Bummer.

"Yeah, Jack, the light-rail! A large train-like object that hurtles along side the highway and takes you 'downtown' to all the good stores."

"Downtown? You mean like ... Portland?!"

Her eyes got a dreamy faraway look. "Yeah, we're going to Pioneer Square. Trust me, you won't regret it."

"Good stores?"

Just like they always did before she was about cum, her eyes dilated. "Yep, like 'Second Skin' for the best dresses ever, 'Cheeky's' for lingerie, 'Wellheeled' for footwear, and the 'Apple Store on the Square' for a new phone for you!"

"I don't need a new phone."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You do."

"There's nothing wrong with my phone."

"Let me see it."

He handed it to her. She opened it, then opened it a little more. She handed him back the two halves of the flip phone.

"Your phone is broken; you need a new phone!"

"Yeah, I can see that now. And, do we know what kind of phone I need?"

"We do!"

Jack surrendered gracefully. "In for a penny, in for a pound. Well, will the MAX station at Hillsboro suit your ladyship?"

"Of course, it's the scenic route; that will do nicely. Drive on, Jeeves!"

At Hillsboro, they parked the Jeep at the Fairgrounds Station, catching the MAX from there into the center of downtown Portland. Even past morning rush-hour, it was still very crowded. They had to stand. Jessica put her butt against Jack and moved with the train. He looked down at her. She smiled innocently. What?

By the time they passed through the tunnel under the Portland Zoo, it was pretty obvious what she was up to. It was also perfectly clear that she'd succeeded when he stepped from the MAX onto Pioneer Square.

First thing off the train, Jessica spied a street-vendor hawking 'Tasty treats and sweets to beat the heat' and headed right over. Decidedly uncomfortable, like a man with a back problem, Jack made his way to a bench along a short brick wall, sat down, and leaned forward to help conceal the erection in his trousers.

Minutes later, Jess sat down next to him with her newly acquired ice-cream cone. "Is there a problem, Jack?" He watched as a small trickle ran across the side of her hand. She licked it off. Then another. Finally, she had the cone under control.

"Wanna lick?" I bet you do!

"You have no idea how much."

"So, can you stand yet?" My name is mischief, her eyes said.

"Yeah, I don't think you'll have to help me up. Where first?"

She pointed. It was 'The Apple Store'. All glass and stainless steel, it was bright, airy, efficient, and crowded. Jack was a little disappointed; he'd expected it to be a large glass cube. Maybe, even green glass with a pulsating light, giving off a low-pitched pulsating subsonic sound that made the ground tremble slightly.

They walked in. The first Apple Store Associate to spot them walked over. "Hey, Jessica."

"Hey, Servos." She kissed him on the cheek.

"And, how may Apple serve you today?" He smiled at her as he bowed just slightly.

Klaxon Servos was an imposing presence in the store, managing both the various Personal Setup Teams and the Genius Bar. Twenty-nine years old, he boasted an Associate's degree from a Community College in Information Technology, which he had earned online. His personal ambiance vacillated somewhere between that of a maître d' at a top-rated restaurant and that of a hacker, who perpetually sat hunched over a heavily-modified Alienware computer in his parents' darkened basement. Exemplary of his character, Servos had allowed a rumor to persist that he was actually a member of Anonymous, the ominous worldwide hacking group. It wasn't true; but, since he hadn't started the rumor, Servos saw no reason to stop it.

He was a tad portly at 5'9" and 235 pounds. Hence his preference for the metric system, where he weighed approximately a mere 106 kilos. His hair was dark and he kept it up in a ponytail like a samurai.

"Well ..." Jess took the two halves of Jack's phone and handed Servos the top. Opening the bottom half, she removed the battery, slid out a small chip with her fingers, and slipped it into her pocket. She handed Sevros the other half. "Can you do something with this?"

Aghast, Servos asked in a hushed whisper,"What is ... it?" Holding the two pieces in his hand like a broken toy, Servos stared at Jack as if he'd wandered in from some other part of the West—the Old West, the Wild West. Clearly, the poor lost techno-phobic soul standing in front of him wasn't from Portland; perhaps some other part of Oregon, where people probably still had outhouses and pulled water up from a well. The land of -- God forbid!--the hardline. One of those places, 'out there', where there were still telephones. How very quaint!

"It's a Star Trek communicator." Jessica pointed nodded at a distinctly uncomfortable Jack.

"Ohhhhhh, I see. A flip phone!" Servos rolled his eyes. "My, my! Was it damaged on an 'Away Mission'?"

Jessica indulged him. "Yes, it was. Please fix-up the Captain here with an iPhone 6. And trick it out, so he can't hurt it until I show him how everything works."

"Of course." He eyeballed Jack, critically. "Obviously, the 'Captain' will be needing the unit, body armor, and screen protector." He walked around Jack. "And, most definitely, a hip holster."

Jessica added, "and, a Bluetooth headset."

"Are you sure? He'll think he's being assimilated by the Borg!" He gloated, smiling at his inside joke with Jessica.

"Servos," Jack rankled a bit, "I'm right here, and I'm the one paying for the phone." Asshole!

Servos was unfazed; he politely, but pointedly, asked, "Excuse me, but do you own an Apple Product?"

"No" What the hell difference does that make?

"I didn't think so." Luddite!

"Look, I am trying to place one of our units with you. Because Jessica's here, we can skip a lot of the questions we usually ask potential Apple adopters. We trust her judgment of people. Have faith in her; she's absolutely brilliant when it comes to these devices. We offered her a position at our Genius Bar, but she turned us down."

"She'll help you fill-in the online survey/registration form and then we'll have all your information. Then, and only then, I will know who you are."

"Servos, play nice; he doesn't know you," Jessica intervened.

Not to be deterred, Servos went on, "As a potential Apple adopter, your choices--at this point--are what color iPhone 6 and what type or style of hip holster."

"What colors?"

Servos sighed, "We call them finishes or accents." Oh My God, Jessica, where did you find this one?

"White, black, brushed silver, gold," Jessica supplied. "He'll take brushed silver."

"You know, after thinking it over, I don't think I ... "

Jessica intervened again, "Resistance is futile, Jack Grant."

"Do I really need a hip holster?"

"Yes, you'll stick it in your pocket with your keys and pocket change and scratch it. Or you'll forget it's there, sit down and bend it. Or, you'll put it behind the visor on your jeep and drop it." Leaning in, Jessica gave Jack's frowny-face a much-needed kiss.

Jessica instructed Servos, "There are only two that would work for him." Then, she turned to Jack, "Jack, there is a Coach leather holster and there is a 'Borg' cover. The leather implies,'I don't care how retarded you think I am, I have money and an iPhone, so fuck off!'; while, the Borg cover intimates, 'I've been absorbed, so don't fuck with me or you're next!'"

Servos brought his hands together in mock applause, gushing, "Jessica, you should work here; you really should."

"Servos," she quipped, "I'm not into technology and everyone here is too narrow in perspective. With the exception of you." She kissed his cheek again.

Jack was still lost in thought, trapped on the horns of a dilemma. I'm a lawyer, so probably 'Coach'; but, I love everything Star Trek, so probably 'The Borg'.

Servos waited patiently. Jessica leaned in, whispering into Jack's ear. "Jack, you're not making a life choice. Pick the one you 'like' the most."

He looked up. "The Borg."

"A very good choice, Sir. It will be a few minutes as the Personal Setup team readies your new iPhone. Jessica, would you like to come collect the goodies?"

As an afterthought, Jack asked, "Out of curiosity, is there a way to silence Siri?"

Servos blanched, his hackles rising. Thinking quickly, Jessica immediately stepped between the two. "Jack, I'll show you how Siri works. How to turn her on and off." Don't say it! Oh God, Jack, don't say the words out loud. Not here!

"No! Why can't I just tell her to 'Shut the fuck up!'? Will that work? 'Cause, if she's as smart as everyone says, won't she understand that as a command?"

"Jack ... we should probably talk about this privately," Jess pleaded.

Mortally offended, Servos backed up a foot or two. Siri-abuse was not a topic to be taken lightly; at the very least, it was politically incorrect and, at best, a form of techno-abuse. Servos scowled in disgust, It's a short reach from verbal to physical abuse. What's next smacking the phone against something to get it's attention?

Totally oblivious, Jack persisted, "Could I just uninstall the software for Siri?"

A hush fell over the entire Apple Store as word spread among the customers that there might be an incident brewing. As though of a single mind, every person in the Apple Store turned in unison and looked accusingly at Jack Grant. Setup Teams stopped their work and checked nervously for what was disturbing the serene atmosphere, typical of an Apple Store. Jessica circled, keeping herself always between Jack and Servos.

"Come on! All I'm asking is how, in God's name, do you put a muzzle on her?"

"Jack, you hate all things new; you'll get used to her as your personal assistant," Jessica promised, hoping to placate him. "Over time, she'll grow on you."

Jack Grant finally noticed Servos and the entire store, looking his way. He sensed a definite change in the atmosphere. Contrary to popular belief, even a lawyer will eventually figure out when to shut the fuck up.

"Yeah, Jess, you're probably right." Not in this fucking lifetime! Grow on me ... like barnacles on a hull, rust on an anchor, or plaque on my teeth? Wear me down, you mean. Siri probably turns herself on at night and whispers from your bedside table, 'You love Apple, You love your new iPhone, You love Siri, too. Siri is your best friend."

A few minutes later, Servos approached Jack for his signature.

"On behalf of Apple," he held his hand up in the formal Vulcan greeting, "Welcome to the Collective, Jack Grant." Just try to remain a Luddite with this on your person!

Jessica handed Jack his new 'Borg' holster with a brushed silver iPhone 6 already in it. "It's activated, it has your phone number already, and 'both' of your contacts have been added, including the ring tones.

He slipped it onto his belt. "Where to next? Second Skin?"

She smiled, "Yeah."

"Why do they call a dress store 'Second Skin'?"

She reached down and touched his wedding ring. "You really were actually married, right? I mean, you don't wear this just to keep all the hot chicks off you?"

"Hot chicks?" He looked at the gold band. It's a chick magnet?

"All will become clear, Jack Grant. All will become clear."

'Second Skin' was small, chic, trendy shop. Mostly, younger women shopped there.

When they walked in, a woman in her late thirties approached them. She held her arms out to Jessica and hugged her affectionately. "Jess, it has been too long."

"Justine de Noir, Jack Grant." She pointed to Jack. "Jack, my Aunt Justine."

"Well, he's up there on the yummy scale." She took in the new iPhone, Jack, and the wedding ring in a single insightful glance.

"A pleasure." She shook Jack's hand.

She turned to Jessica. "So, are you here just to visit me?"

"Nope." Jessica smiled. "I need a dress for The Inferno."

"Oh, I see. Shopping for 'a real date'. Well, let's see what we have for you. Something?"

"Special?"

"Oh, most assuredly."

Justine turned her attention to Jack. "If you have other things to do, Mr. Grant, we'll be about forty-five minutes. If, not you are welcome to have a seat. I'll have Michelle bring you some Raspberry Zinger herbal tea."

"Thanks."

There were giggles from the dressing room as Justine entered and left several times. She stayed for the last try-on. It only took twenty minutes. Jessica was positively radiant.

"Don't I get to see it?" I thought you brought me, so I could see?

"Absolutely not, it would spoil the surprise."

"Don't worry, Jack, I've seen it. It's fantastic!" Justine promised him.

Jack handed her his American Express. She smiled. "I love American Excess Cards." Then she turned to Jess, "You don't have to wait till you can afford something to come by. Come try stuff on. I haven't seen you naked in months. When's the last time you were out to the Ranch or the Rock? You're getting pale. I saw your mom and that big-dicked bastard--you call 'Daddy'--there just last weekend. I miss you."

Jessica blushed and looked at Jack. "I've been busy with other things. I miss you, too, Justine. I'll tell mom and dad you said 'Hi'."

Jack looked puzzled. 'Seen you naked?' What's the Ranch?

"What?" Jessica asked, noticing the look.

"Nothing ..." His eyebrows knitted themselves.

"What?!"

"Nothing, it's really none of my business. Oh, to hell with it ... What's the Ranch?"

"I told you I was raised a naturist. The Ranch is east of Portland, out past Estacada. It's a private naturist resort. Clothing-free. Up in the mountains."

"The Rock?"

"Rooster Rock, up on the Columbia River, east of Portland on the Interstate. There is a small clothing- optional beach there. Good place to work on a tan, if you don't want tan lines."

"So when Justine said, 'She hadn't seen you ...' she meant SEEN you?"

"Yup!" She offered Jack a seductive smile. "Wanna go to 'Cheekie's'?"

He laughed. "Sounds like fun to me."

As they entered the small boutique called 'Cheekie's', Jessica was met by a stunning young woman about her age, who ran across the shop and lifted Jess in her arms swinging her around as she kissed her. There was tongue.

She sat Jessica down. "I am sooo glad to see you; but, why are you here? You never wear panties."

Jack looked at them, his mouth open. I'm not even going to imagine how you know that.

Catching his look, the young woman simply winked at him. "Well, she doesn't!"

Jess made the introductions. "Jack, Destinee. Destinee Chavez, Jack Grant. Destinee and I went to college together as undergraduates. She and I were roommates for three years."

Destinee Chavez was one of those young women of Hispanic descent, who could easily have passed for Mexican, American Indian, Pacific Islander, or Japanese. She was the best argument Jack Grant had ever seen against racial profiling. She had her hair up in what looked to Jack to be a hairstyle taken straight from a piece Japanese Manga or Hentai artwork. She had no discernible accent. Her teeth were perfect, her smile warm and inviting. There was a softness to her that was utterly feminine.

Destinee was wearing what, to Jack's eyes, appeared to be a shortened kimono of pure silk that reached only four inches above her knees. Under the kimono, she was wearing a pair of colorful tights, printed with some kind of intricate Central American pattern. Her kimono-style dress tied with a sash and Jack truly believed she had no bra under it. She'd finished off the outfit with a pair of knee-high suede leather boots in a rust color.

All-in-all, she was a delight for a man's eyes. Or, a woman's. Definite brown sugar eye-candy.

Jack spoke first, clearing his throat, "Encantada, Señorita Chavez. Encantada!" He kissed the back of her hand.

Jessica saw her friend blush hotly. Muy caliente! Destinee vigorously fanned herself with her hand and pointed at Jack. "Que guapo and a-fucking-half!" she laughed. This one's cute-and-a-fucking-half.

"Jess, you sure better buy some panties, if you're dating this one."

"Tal vez usted puede mostrar su cómo poner los calzones, adecuadamente," Maybe you can show her how to put them on, properly, Jack added in Spanish.

Destinee looked at Jack and chuckled, genuinely amused, "You know, Señor, I may just do that."

She dragged Jessica off.

Left to his own devises, Jack wandered aimlessly around the store. Like most decent men, he was afraid to be seen fondling women's undergarments in public; but, mighty keen on fondling them in private.

He looked around for Jessica. Nowhere to be seen. Hmmm. His phone rang. The tone was Jean-Luc Picard as the voice of 'The Borg'. "You will be absorbed. Resistance is futile!"