The Swinging Professor Pt. 02

The Swinging Professor Part Two

Here's the end to the two-part story dealing with rich, affluential New Yorkers who delve into the decadent world of swinging.

It's been an interesting summer. Too hot. Too dry. Then too wet. Cycle. Rinse. Repeat.

Warnings for sensitive people: There is interracial sex in this! Gasp! Plus, dare I say it? Hints of gay sex? Oh noes!

Heh. Enjoy. Please.

Or do not. There is no try.

Love,

Lana Ocean

Canada

P.S.: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All fictional characters engaged in sexual acts are eighteen or over.

Recap of Part One

In the first part, we followed Clara MacQuarrie, the Dean of the English Department at Bensenville University in upstate Poughkeepsie, NY. Now on her second marriage, Clara has maintained close ties with her stepdaughter Sara Madigan, from her first marriage to Sean Madigan.

Clara has been shunned for unknown reasons from her former best friend Audra Dourstradmes, who lives next door to her, and Eva Landry. Both Audra and Eva are professors at Bensenville University.

Frustrated and angry, she confronts her former best friend and discovers Audra and Eva run a swinger's club right in Poughkeepsie, NY, and have included her stepdaughter.

Clara is quickly drawn into their world and discovers sexual freedom and finds her strength and renews her friendship with Audra and Eva.

The first novel ends with Sara discovering Clara at a swinger party.

Chapter One - Opening Moves

THE PHONE ON Jane Avery's desk rang loudly in her corner office. Her secretary had connected her to her latest client, a man with more wealth than sense. She had only agreed to take him as a client when her business partner, Ji-Eun Joon, had insisted. When they had created the investment firm Avery and Joon Limited Liability Company (LLC) they had agreed that both of them were required to accept new clients. This was such a case, except Jane knew her partner had inordinately pressured her to accept him. This new client had connections deep into the underground life in New York City. Jane was certain he had mob connections through his massive construction contracts across New York state and in New Jersey. The man even owned a couple of seedy Italian restaurants in Manhattan; known for being frequented by known mobsters. They had to tread carefully and keep everything on the up and up. The future of A&J LLC required their constant attention to remaining legitimate. Jane had no doubts that the New York Attorney General had put their company name on a list of companies to watch carefully.

Jane stared at her desk phone. The small light blinking by one of their lines filled her with trepidation. Her friend, Carol Knupster, the President of Bensenville University in Poughkeepsie, had told her she had amazing instincts and to always listen to them. Now she always listened to her instincts. They hadn't failed her yet.

Unwatched behind her, the early evening sky over Manhattan deepened and the lights of the West Village in Greenwich flashed and sparkled. In the distance she could have seen the Freedom Tower if she so chose, but she had long given up staring out the window at her million-dollar view. The view didn't pay for her mansion in Tarrytown, NY. Clients did, and one wanted her attention right now.

She sighed and picked up the handset and pressed the blinking light to the line. "Good evening, A&J Investing. Jane speaking, can I help you?" She knew who was on the other end of the line. But she insisted all conversations from her employees start with that line.

"Jane? Hi. This is Walter Bianco. Joon told me to expect your call. Thank you for reaching out."

Everyone called Jane's partner at A&J Investing LLC by her last name, Joon. Joon was far easier than saying and pronouncing her first name, Ji-Eun. Joon didn't mind. For Jane, hearing her name reminded her that Ji-Eun was starting to select nefarious clients, and this was what troubled her the most these days. Jane had far too many secrets in her past and present to risk opening those doors to just anyone, and any new client risked the livelihood she depended on for her own sanity. There were already enough rumours circulating throughout the upper class in New York City.

Jane forced a smile to her lips. No one could see her in her office, but she knew the smile would naturally make her voice more pleasant. "Walter, thank you for accepting my call. I've been going through your investment portfolio, and I had a few questions about some of the areas you wish to invest in. They are certainly high risk like you want, but some of these areas are dubious in their nature and are connected to offshore accounts. I was wondering..."

* * *

The company car pulled up in front of Jane's mansion. Jane grabbed her red leather Saint Laurent satchel from beside her on the seat and waited for the driver to come around and open her door. When the door opened, she swung out her sizeable legs and took the offered hand and was pulled out and to her feet. Jane wasn't a slim woman. No, she was what was typically described as extra curvy. A nice way of saying her enhanced breasts, large booty, and generous amounts of love handles made her larger than life. She wasn't fat, just big boned, as her mother used to say. Jane knew she looked like the renaissance women of old. She rather liked the look. Someone had once told her she had the air of a cherub. That pleased her. She thanked the driver and waltzed up the wide marble steps and into her home.

The foyer of her house was massive and boasted a wide marble staircase that spread up and to the left and right to the two-story wings. Rich, dark woods, ceramics, Italian marble, and expensive handmade area rugs greeted her. She stopped by the entryway table and picked up the mail from the silver basket and went through it and separated out the ones for her and placed the others back down. The other mail was addressed to her live-in boyfriend, although she hated the term boyfriend. It sounded like high school or childhood to someone her age at fifty-three. Her current boyfriend, eight years her younger, was Nolan Brewster, and he had lived with her for the past two years. He was bald, black, and beautiful, and stood at six and a half feet tall. He was larger than life, and proudly the owner of his own company called Brewster's Restaurant Equipment based in Queens. He divorced his wife some three years ago, but his wife occasionally stopped by for entertainment.

Jane opened a bill from her credit card company and grimaced at the amount owing. She stuffed it into her satchel with her other mail. She stopped at the full-length mirror and leaned in to check her makeup. She looked fine, but tired. Bags hung from her eyes and made her crow's feet stand out. Her silver hair was coiffed immaculately, as always. Her Nili Lotan dress made her hips look a little slimmer. Her blue eyes were shaded a little grey and gave her an exotic haunted look. She smiled at herself and headed upstairs. Just as her feet touched the first step, her housemaid rushed out from behind the staircase from the kitchen area, looking flustered, and pulling her loose hairs back over her ears hurriedly.

Jane paused and looked down from the second step at her Latina housemaid. She was legal and twenty-five. Better yet, she could eat pussy so deliciously. And according to Jane's boyfriend, she could suck a golf ball through fifty feet of garden hose. It was his expression, and she hadn't liked hearing it at the time. She did like that her housemaid kept her boyfriend at least a little drained. His sexual appetite was insatiable. Jane raised an eyebrow at the woman.

"Miss, my apologies. Master Nolan had me doing chores. I didn't hear you come home."

Jane looked her over. Her black and white dress was slightly rumpled, and the back was slightly tucked into her panties. Her lipstick was a little thin and missing in the middle. Her cheeks were flushed. Jane knew her maid had just been fooling around with Nolan. Jane smiled.

"No bother. Is Nolan in the back room?"

"Yes, miss. He is playing video games online with his friends."

"Is supper prepared?" Jane had no doubt that Nolan had requested a blow job while playing. He liked to brag to his friends.

"Yes, miss. The cook has prepared a lovely pasta primavera. I can serve it when you wish."

"Give me half-an-hour. I need to wash the day off me."

"Yes, miss."

Jane turned and walked up the stairs to her bedroom. She undressed and jumped in her luxurious rain shower and washed quickly. She wound her hair up in a towel, threw on some silk pyjamas and a robe and found her fluffy pink slippers. She was famished and thoughts of the pasta had her hurrying downstairs.

Soon she sat at the kitchen island on a stool and ate her pasta with a chilled glass of Pinot Grigio. The cook had made fresh Italian bread, and it was still piping hot inside. Bread was her only food vice. She avoided carbs, but sometimes she craved pasta and hot, fresh bread like nobody else. Today being Wednesday, it was pasta night. Jane grinned around a mouthful of pasta, delighting in the crunch of broccoli and other vegetables and the richness of the creamy Parmesan-Reggiano sauce.

The maid hovered until Jane sent her away with a motion of the hand. The maid hurried off to the staff house, where the cook, driver, and a second maid lived. As far as Jane knew, they were all fucking each other like crazy. She knew their names; she just didn't dwell on them. She seemed to remember her house maid was named Anjelica, named by her Puerto Rican mother after the movie star. Jane wasn't sure why she remembered that useless fact.

She never knew her driver's name, or the cook's. The other maid, also Hispanic, was Maria. Maria was gorgeous and Bruno enjoyed fucking her ass as she ate her out. She was Catholic and Jane loved catholic girls. They would do anything sexual and love it.

Jane finished her plate and pushed it aside. The maids would take care of it later. That's what they were paid for. She grabbed her wine and sauntered through her mansion to the gaming room. It was a full home theatre, complete with a fancy high-definition projector and a large screen. Jane could see the back of Nolan's bald head up sitting up front. Nolan was playing some game that involved shooting a large number of people. He was jumping around and shooting. He was laughing and talking into his headset. In the dark of the room, the bright images on the screen moved so quickly and were so large that Jane felt vertigo sweep over her. She leaned against the doorframe.

"Ass wipe! Where'd you come from?" barked Nolan into the small microphone of his headset.

Jane couldn't hear the other side of the conversation.

"Motherfucker! Watch your ass, you sonofabitch! I'm all over that!"

Nolan manoeuvred on the screen around buildings and what looked like shipping containers and then hid in a corner. He popped up and back down. Then the image shifted, and Jane watched him get shot multiple times from behind.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" screamed Nolan and laughed at the same time.

Jane smiled and walked through her mansion and went out back to her sunroom. The entire rear of the main mansion building boasted a large, enclosed, floor to ceiling glass walled sunroom. Soft couches and chairs were placed in ideal locations. A small concrete fountain bubbled in the centre of the artificial grass. Plants and small trees festooned the area and gave everything a warm, comforting feeling of being close to nature. The scent of the myriad of flowers was intoxicating. Outside, the immaculate grounds spread out and encircled a large, in-ground saltwater pool, complete with a bar, barbecue pit, and change houses. Her gardener was seasonal, and he had been doing a wonderful job. He was pushing eighty years of age and loved working the grounds. As a widower, he worked for peanuts.

Jane sank into her favourite chaise lounge and pulled her legs underneath her. She placed her wine glass down on the side table and pulled her phone out of a pocket on her robe. She had missed a call from Sara while in the shower.

Sara Madigan was her daughter she had adopted with Sean Madigan, her former husband. Jane had left the two of them when Sara was only three. Sean had been insufferable and had expected her to work and care for him while he wasted his time trying to write a novel, of all things. In a naïve and desperate attempt to salvage their marriage, Sara had been arranged through an adoption agency that cared only for sizeable donations. Despite having adopted Sara, Jane had seen the writing on the walls and left them both, never looking back. She enrolled in Bensenville University and achieved a Master of Business Economics in three short years. Now she was co-owner of a successful investment company with many rich and influential clients.

She had remained sporadically in contact with Sara over the years. She had watched as Sean married an English professor from Bensenville University, now named Clara MacQuarrie, after she married for a second time. Clara had been good to Sara, and Jane had been pleased. When Clara saw the same failings in Sean, she had quickly divorced him, making Jane feel marginally better about her own divorce from the man. It hadn't just been her. Then Clara had surprised her by remaining committed to Sara. She had been a better mother to her than Jane had been able to be. Jane had long ago acknowledged to herself that she was not mother material. Her barren womb attested to that. Sara had been adopted. But she was still her true daughter in every way that mattered to her.

Jane selected the missed call and put the phone up to her ear. It rang three times before Sara picked up.

"Jane! Thanks for calling me back! How are you?"

"Fine, sweety. All is well. How are you?" Jane hated it when Sara called her by her first name. She had given up years ago trying to get her to call her mom.

"Fine! I'm just back from visiting Clara. I only got home a couple of hours ago. I wanted to tell you I was speaking with Audra and Eva."

Jane gritted her teeth. Audra Dourstradmes and Eva Landry were both tenured professors at Bensenville University. They had a couple of swinging circles and had been swinging for years. One of their swinger groups was in Poughkeepsie and another, unfortunately, was here in New York City, made up of their former students. They were constantly trying to join with Jane's circles. Sure, they had their own successes and had managed to gather a significantly impressive host of swinging couples to join them, but nothing about them compared to the affluence of Jane's circles. It was like the difference between one million dollars and a hundred million dollars. Jane wouldn't sully her circles with those of Audra and Eva. "Oh? What about?"

Sara hesitated, and Jane knew what she was going to say before she spoke.

"No! I will not talk about them joining me here in New York! I'm done having this conversation, Sara! Is that what you called me about? Seriously? You know how I feel about it!"

Sara remained quiet.

"You know, this pisses me off! Sara! You know it does! And yet you continue to badger me about it. No! No! No!"

"Okay."

"No, it's not okay! You haven't spoken to me in weeks and the first time we talk, you bring this shit up again?" Jane seethed. "Goddamnit girl! Grow the fuck up!"

"Wait!"

Jane disconnected and glowered out at the night sky full of stars. The moon was rising in its crescent form. But all Jane could see were the smug looks on Audra and Eva's faces. She knew they had pushed Sara to this. Sara knew better. She should have refused them.

Chapter Two - The Exchange

JANE FOUND HERSELF once again looking out windows to a night sky. She was back in her office, twenty-five floors up, her back to her desk, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. She watched the lights of an airplane or helicopter circling far off in the distance. She was numb to the majesty of New York City. The lights, glamour, and scenery were commonplace to her now.

That morning, she had taped a segment for a large news media company. She was often asked to talk about financial issues plaguing the country, from deficits, to inflation, to investment futures. She had the face for it, the age and wisdom, and more importantly, the right sounding voice to sound knowledgeable. The news company loved her and so did their audience. It paid well, and it was fun. They did the research, she added her flavour and insights, and merely spoke the words on a teleprompter. It was easy money, and it promoted her own company.

That afternoon, she had yelled at Ji-Eun for bringing Walter in as a client. He was money-laundering, clear as day. He didn't even know how to talk around it. He was an idiot and a serious legal liability, and they needed to dump him. Ji-Eun had argued saying the money made it worth it. Jane had vehemently disagreed and in the end, she used her one percent of ownership leverage to veto Ji-Eun. She had never done that before. She hadn't even hesitated. She just pulled it like Ji-Eun hadn't been her best friends for the last six years.

She knew Ji-Eun would realise she was right after a time. At least she hoped she would.

Maybe not.

Ji-Eun had cursed her pretty vocally about it. Then threatened to leave the company and sell off her shares. Jane had ignored her and Joon had left her office screaming in frustration.

And why don't I give a fuck about what Ji-Eun thinks?

Jane had then called Walter and told him the bad news. Ji-Eun was hopeless for this part of the business. It always fell to Jane to make the hard calls. Walter had been furious. Very furious and very loud. Then he had been threatening. Very threatening. Even said he knew where she lived. She had chuckled at him and hung up.

Jane then called a couple of friends from her swinging circle. Walter would be taken care of. Soon. Permanently. Mafia or not, you don't cross Jane's Circle. Walter would soon realise that, and a message would be left for others to see. Jane grinned at her reflection in the window glass.

She sipped her bourbon and then opened a side drawer and pulled out a pre-rolled joint. She sparked it and continued to lie back in her overly large and comfortable office chair. She drew a hit, held it, and blew out. It was a lovely hybrid of sativa and indica strains grown up in Canada somewhere.

She knew what they would do to Walter. He would be found naked in an alley with his severed private parts shoved up his ass. He would be a valuable lesson to others like him.

You don't cross Madame Jane. I'm a fucking powerhouse in this city in the right circles, she smiled to herself. How dare he threaten me! He deserves this. And more.

A faint ping sound came from behind her, announcing an email had landed in her inbox. She ignored it and finished her joint and bourbon. She sighed and pushed herself up to a sitting position and swivelled her chair around to face her desk.

She moved her mouse, bringing her computer to life, and typed in her password. Her email program appeared, and she saw a strange email. It was addressed to her but had no sender or subject. She was about to delete it when she read the first line of the email.

[You should be partying with Audra and Clara.]

Jane frowned. The names Audra and Eva were far too specific and too well-known to her for this to be random spam or a phishing attempt. Her company used state-of-the-art anti-malware software and something for advanced persistent threats. This email didn't ring any alarm bells.