FSOG NIGHTMARE 11
finding a place in the sun
The wedding is over, Bee and Michal are honeymooning at our place in Aspen. Elliot and Kate begged for us to open Storm Break to them. We refused. Only us and Gail and Jason will visit there for a long time to come. That being said. Mia and Luke are crashing after Easter at our new Hotel on Miami Beach.
Elliot and Kate are surfing at Roz's north shore condo. Rodriquez clan is mustering a weekend at Oregon's Brownlee Reservoir for bass and camping. Dad and Harem are cruising Rhône and Saône Rivers: from Côte d'Azur in Provence to St. Jean de Losne in Burgundy, a train hop to three days and nights in Paris.
Roz and Gwen are combining the two business heavy weeks in Taiwan & Malaysia with free week on Bali's southern peninsula at the luxurious Suarga Padang Padang resort. Grace and Carrick are taking a week-long therapy group in Ojo Caliente Mineral Springs in Taos.
We've exiled Gail and Jason to LA for Mickey (Gail's sister) family Disneyland vacation. At least a few days, then the rest at the Hyatt Regency Huntington Beach Resort. We got our adopted parents a suite, with butler and full spa treatment. Gail promises to get pic's of Jason couple's mani-pedi
I giggle, remembering Jason and Chris faces as we gave them Mani-pedi at Storm Break. Then were very nervous; given we did it nearly nude, and very suggestive. I can remember Gail pulling the dividing screen as I when full hot sex slave on my man. I know she did the same. From Jason muffled screams of bliss. It took males nearly an hour to recover. Finding us reading in the great room, sipping tea and watching the ice crested waves hurl rainbow lite shard above the battered shores sentinel rocks.
We are going tonight to New York, Chris as meeting Monday to Friday, then four days off, I have a very lite itinerary planned. I plan on spending as much time a possible naked, or scantily clothed; bent over many strange and new things. I've already ordered and sent to our penthouse off the park there: two dozen pairs of lingerie bra and pantie sets, twelve Agent provocateur items and ten Fredrick's of Hollywood role-playing outfits. I doubt any will survive the vacation.
Kate and Elliot, with Deb have given me a list of places for public sex in the city. A dozen in Central park, ten at Battery park, two at Carl Schurz park on the East river. Four at Lighthouse park on Roosevelt islands north end with eight at FDR park on the southern in. Ft. Tilden out Roxbury. Several at the Bronx zoo and the Aquarium at Coney Island. I never realized how cloistered and tame my live was till they start giving me pointers and locates for freakiness. As Bee calls it. Alex was just as shocked, we bookworms lead a very sheltered life's before our soulmates and friends corrupted us.
"Anna the Planes waiting!" bellows my man. All are luggage is packed and loaded at Boeing field thanks to Gail. I grab my purse and head out to the great room. Love how his eyes bug out of his skull.
"You're _ _ _ _Not Wearing That ARE YOU?" he turns a lovely shade of green, red and panic.
"Yes? I AM!" I saunter past him to the Elevator. He follows like a sick puppy, not sure to sex me, of cover me.
"I found it at the Lacis Museum of Lace and Textiles (3163 Adeline St., Berkeley) where we found Bee's wedding dress. It's a summer dress for a mistress to a Tsar nobleman. Smuggle into the USA from Shanghai before WWII. The Dress hasn't been seen in public since the 1925 when the owner a white Russian wore it to a British party, captured a husband and passport to the USA." I whirl for him. He drools.
The lace covers me from neck to wrist to ankle. With several delicate gossamer piece of satin hiding my naught bits. With the sun behind me, I am practical naked. It's a good thing I got a wax Wednesday. My bikini has more coverage. The lady who commissioned this dress was pure unadulterated sex goddess.
The once snow-white lace has yellowed to a nice off white. I pair the dress with a cable knitted coat sweater. I was very worried about wearing it, but I need to put my fears aside and be the champion of my husband against the gold-digger skanks in the world.
As we disembark the SUV, a hundred flash explode in my face. I see the fence line is wall to wall reporters and tabloid sleazy. Chris want to pull me inside the plane. But I have other things on my mind.
"ALL RIGHT PIPE DOWN ONE QUESTION AT A TIME!" I out bellow the assholes.
"Does Grey still whip you?"
"You are a moron; idiot and I don't know how you can keep a job. My Husband and I have a very good, health and satisfying sex life. Anything else is none of your business. So next sick, stupid question will get you permanently banned from any closer than three hundred feet to us. Next?"
"Anna are you pregnant?"
"Another moronic question, particularly in this dress. Next?"
"Anna, How are you doing after the attack on you and your sister-in-law?"
"We are both doing fine. I thank heaven my father and my friend Jason Taylor. Chris's CPO and head of our personal security trained me to protect myself. I am grateful for the quick and profession response of the campus police. I am pleased that IT will never be able to hurt another child, woman, or anyone again."
"Do you feel remorse over his attack in the hospital, that has left him total paralyzed?"
"NO. I would bake the attacker a dozen chocolate overload cookies."
"Where did Grey Take you after the Gala?"
"That's for us to know, you'd better never say. Your financial health depends on it."
"Gentlemen! You heard my wife. I suggest you take it as gospel. I gave up that life before we dated. There was never anything in my previous relationships that was not consensual and safe. Only my exploitation as a trouble teenager by a pedophile. Our you Gentleman blaming the victims'?"
A quick chorus of no, the press is back on their heels. We answer a few more than retire to the plane and long ride to the east coast.
Xxxxxxxxx
Over Nebraska, 20,000feet
I lay naked as Chris snores in my tites. The poor boy is tuckered out after five orgasms. I feel elated, free and blissfully happy. My life, screw that narcissistic thought. OUR life is great and getting better. I plan on next summer starting our brood. I think three little ones should be enough for us. But till then practice makes perfect.
I roll him flat on his back, slink down his body. Licking, nibbling, biting till I come too my much-overused sex toy. I start to gentle lick the shaft.
Teasing it to engorge with blood, to hardness, I Slurpee the meat till its hard in my mouth. I slowly piston, swirling my tongue. Making him wither and ride in the bed. I deep throat, sucking his shaft to my stomach. Making him arch off the bed. I hold him suspended from my mouth, till shaking with rush of his sweet juices. I release as he sprays my face, tites and stomach. Passed out he is. I channel my Yoda. Wiping a finger along my chin, I see the creamy white essence of his body. I lick the sweet tangy come.
I hop a quick shower and finish dressing as the seat belt sign lights. I wake sleeping beauty. The city awaits.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Mrs. Saskia Folami-Neilson our new housekeeper stands in the foyer watching us. Christian old one broke her NDA, blabbed to the tabloids during our exile after the Gala. Gail just found this one, she seems to be capable, whether we trust her is yet to be determined.
Mrs. Saskia Folami-Neilson, 55 years old, is original from Elands Bay on the west coast of South Africa; between the Atlantic and the Cederberg mountains. She is the former housekeeper to the South African Ambassador at the UN. She married a local New Jersey guy who works as an interpreter for the UN two years ago. She gained citizenship last year and holds UN security clearances; has taken top culinary course in Capetown, Paris, and California and New York. She's been a housekeeper since she was fourteen.
They live below on the first floor. We own the top four floors, with the other fourteen floors rented out on a monthly contract. So, we don't keep any security risk. We have a private elevator, and separate garage.
We enter our New York penthouse, the room is softly lighted, heavenly scented flower, subtle, not overpowering. Saskia is smartly dressed black skirt and white blouse, with a smartly suit gentleman, her husband. Two bruisers wait behind them. The local GEH security. Parks is our lead CPO here.
"Mr. and MRS. GREY. I am Saskia your housekeeper, this is my husband Abel. This is Mr. Kowsi, and Mr. Van Pelt; your local CPO's and drivers during your stay here." she says with an almost musical British accent.
"Thankyou. We are a little tried. We will take a nap, wake us in about an hour. Lite Lunch about thirty minutes after we awake. Afterwards you can show me the house. Christian has paperwork to study for the meeting tomorrow." I take command, making sure everyone knows I'm the boss in my house.
"You Luggage is in your room. I haven't had a chance to unpack. The cloths you sent ahead are hanging in the wardrobe. A fruit basket is on the sitting table. Please call me if you need anything." Saskia says challenging me, without challenging me. I like her.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Hour later.
I step out of the shower, feeling heavenly, we really did just nap. Laying in his arms, feeling his breathe along my neck and jaw. Was the best relaxing thing in the whole freaking world. I find my luggage unpacked. I select a simple outfit of jeans and band t-shirt. I look like the college coed I am. I can live with this image. I pet my lace dress hanging in the wardrobe. I can't wait to wear it out to a Gala or play. Sex vixen Anna is hungry.
I wander out and up stairs to the main floor. The main rooms are on top, with the bedrooms one floor below. I like most of the art work I pass. But some will have to go. I like bright colors but blinding oneself for art is not my thing.
"Saskia? Where are the males?"
"Mr. Grey in his Office cussing like a sailor or maybe the General Secretary. The Boy's, CPO, are hiding in the security room downstairs next the building elevator. We have an internal small elevator just for our floors. I made you Mrs. Grey; a nice tuna salad lettuce wraps. Come Child eat."
"Please call me Anna, I dislike being called Mrs. Grey in private. I don't do servants very well. I prefer to be friendly. So, please call me Anna."
"Sure thing. Anna now sit, I'll get you the food, need to fatten you up. Your all skin and bones." She laughs with me, as she plates and serves the food, she sits and we go over the menu and schedule. I really like her.
Xxxxxxxxx
New York day 5
We walk down E.30th street to Lexington in Kips Bay/Murray Hill's to Kalustyan's spice market. Kowsi is trailing us while poor Van Pelt loads our foray of Fairway market in Kips Bay. I hope the SUV suspension doesn't break.
It only three long blocks, we could use the exercise, I plan on a Yoga class in the park this afternoon before Chris gets back. His sexpertise requires a lot and I mean a lot of flexibility. We are arm in arms; conspiring about our men. Her husband Abel is an only child, bookworm, with a flare for languages. I've already annoyed her by hooking Abel and Tim up on the phone. Seems their bromacing languages; is taking up her play time.
She teases me she'll get Chris hookup at the big snobby Tennis club down the road. I'll become a sports widow like her language widow hood. We laugh bumping each other. How lucky I am to have met and know such loving and strong women.
Saskia-pov
Anna is the strangest girl I have ever known. Bright, smart, beautiful, daring and fore right one minute meek, plain, unsure, demur, frightened the next. Yet she still steps out and puts one foot in front of the other. Never backing down or running away. I remember the second day, Mr. Grey when into the office. Anna took him lunch.
Kowsi tells me she threw four secretaries and two executives out on their ear. Chasing, harassing her man. She has a protective and jealous streak to rival her husband. I found her crying on her bed. I sat and held her. She was so afraid that she let Chris down by showing her temper.
She's a good girl. like my grandmother and mother. strong, independent and unafraid to face anyone or anything, till they are behind closed doors and shaded windows. She is a great lady, she just has to realizes it, but I doubt she ever will. Which will make her a legendary woman. She just doesn't see herself like that; As special, she just sees herself unvarnished and without air's. She has gone back everyday to eat and have lunch with her husband.
We turn onto Lexington; the Kalustyan's sign rise above the next block. A car screams up, two men in mask jump out with guns. I start to push Anna behind me, grabbing my heavy purse straps, my cousin sent it to me, it made from Hippodamia's hide. But Anna is already around me, throwing her purse in the tall one's face. Side kicking his knee. I hear the sickening crackle of bones. Kowsi is already firing. I see Van Pelt slam into the get-away car.
I complete the full swing of my heavy purse to the one Anna kicked stunned face. I can see the tearing the tough hide and brass fitting leave. Even thru the mask, long deep red sore spurts out blood. Hippo hide can be very tough and hurtful, with the edging woven hippo hide, same weaving the old apartheid's used as bullwhips on us coloreds.
I survey the area, just these three losers. I start to recover Anna. When she goes off. I've never seen her like this or any woman like this. Standing on the poor guys broken knee. She's a terrifying vengeful goddess.
"WHO SENT YOU? WAS IT THE ADMIRAL! TALK OR YOUR GOING TO BE A WOMAN IN THREE! TWO!"
"please, please no. Some lawyer hired us out of Queens. I have his card. Please lady don't hurt me!"
She forces him to retrieve the card, calls Welch, GEH head of Security. The cops aren't happy about her demeanor or abuse of the suspect. I step right into policeman's face, backing him off the curb into the street. No one talks to my Girl like that. Not Grey, his family, her friends, his friends, anyone!
Afterwards we simple walk to Kalustyan's an continue shopping. Tami, Grey's New York PA arranges another SUV. We exist the market to a new SUV and smiling Mr. Grey. Anna leaps into his arms. kissing him, despite the thirty or more paparazzi around us. They don't care, this is about them and only them.
In the car, Van Pelt tells me we are getting two more CPO for Anna. "Good." I bark at them, I will start carrying my stun gun and mace. No one is harming my charges here. Gail would kill me, if It did, hell I'd help her do it.
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Cpov
After the Spice market attempt: I plan on escaping the city this weekend. I had Andrea and Tami book a private Prince Edward Island excursion. Anna of Greyville is going to follow the footsteps of Anna of Green Gables. With several side trips to see the natural wonders and animals of the island.
I smile out my downtown office in the wall street section of Manhattan. This trip has been profitable, and fun. I've seen more of the city in the past week than I ever have. For the first time, I enjoy the city simple things.
Three nights ago:
The moon is heavy over the Verrazano Bridge from the Staten Island Ferry. The crisp wind and chill have everyone inside except us lovers on the top deck. Just a handful of young couple separate out giving each a little space and privacy.
I have Anna burrow into my coat. Kissing her sweet lips. Waging war with our tongues. Letting the romance of the night seep into my soul. A nice dinner on the revolving floor of the View Restaurant & Lounge. 48 stories above the city, the rotating view was marvelous. I booked a section and had screens installed to give us privacy.
We stated with Mountain Asparagus Ravioli cooked al dente, tossed in a light citrusy cream and topped with heirloom cherry tomatoes and radicchio; New England Style Crab Cake pan seared jumbo lump cake with a whole grain mustard remoulade. Splitting the Lobster Mac n' Cheese with itsal dente cavatappi pasta cooked in a rich aged white cheddar sauce and topped with sautéed cold-water lobster.
Coastal Seafood Paella, A medley of pan seared grouper chunks, butter poached little neck clam and PEI mussels on a bed of aromatic saffron risotto, garnished with piquillo peppers, English peas and charred Meyer lemons was my entrée. While my fussy little coed had the Pan Roasted Berkshire Pork Chop; Juicy double cut pork chop served with a bacon and Yukon gold potato hash served with a rich green apple jus she giggled "Pork chops and Apple sauce! Baby!"
She had to explain the joke, I am so limiting her's and Kate's classic TV. We argued about three kids verses six. We are not doing the Bunch thing. "well let's see how the Pork chops and Apple sauce really are?" stealing a big chunk from her fork.
He leans over, kissing me. rubbing my groin. I drool as she whispers naughty things we may try tonight. The box seats for the play will give some privacy if my little vixen decides to use her smart mouth. I can't wait to finger fu #k her int bliss before the intermission.
We share the A Cherry Explosion; it'sdark-red morello cherry mousse perched on a buttery cherry savarin paired with rich silky black cherry ice cream. The menu says it's to die for! We both agree. I lick a spot off Anna's nose. Making the world brighten in her blush.
The Broadway show Brief Encounter was swooningly romantic show, comedy doesn't do it justice. Anna tells me it's based on Noel Coward's 1945 screenplay about a star-crossed couple who falls in love at first sight in a British train station; Coward's clever songs is a mix of drama and comedy to music. We laughed, cried and enjoy the show.
We even forgot to have sex, the show was that enthralling. So we finished with a round trip o the Staten island ferry. Has we plow homeward to the city. I wage war with my sexy coed wife. Battling tongues and lips. Words spoken of secrets, dreams and fantasy. With my love in my arms, nothing else matters to me.
Saturday: Prince Edward Island:
Leaving Charlottetown in our two SUV convoy with Mountie escort. The natural wonder and beauty of the rolling farmlands, quaint villages, seaside harbors along the Green Gables Shore scenic drive. I arranged private tour, skipping the tour trap North Shore area's quaint little fishing villages. We wander thru the sugar maples of Cavendish Grove. We brunch in Avonlea village.
In the afternoon; tour Green Gables House, this old farm site inspired L.M. Montgomery's first novel, Anne of Green Gables, published in 1908. We walk the grounds while Anna recites passages form the series. We watch the birds off Cape Turner, sitting on the picnic table top. Cuddled under a blanket. Letting the sunshine and fresh air cleanse our souls.
We cruise north to our B&B for the night. The Beach House "Inn by the Sea" in French River. We walk from our lighthouse cottage down to the beach around the New London lighthouses. Returning for a private dinner we ordered from The Pidgeon Coop Diner down the road. Eating our lobster burgers and fries on the large deck of our cottage. Everyone has been told to stay away. I sex my girl up in the light of the propane table top fire pit I had installed. Lounging in the chairs watching the stars shine thru the clockwork flash of the lighthouse.
I carry my sleeping wife to our bed. Making her the world in my arms. this world is all I ever need. Kissing her sweet lips, she breathless says my name. I wonder to a chance meeting, a chance thought, and electric possibility. That has blossomed like the fruit groves we passed. Into this wonderful life.
Sunday, we tour the Anne of Green Gables Museum at Silver Bush. Taking a carriage ride thru the estate of the author home. On the ride back to Charlottetown we stop and have tea with Prince Edward Island poet laureate David Helwig and his daughter Maggie.
We end the day touring New Glasgow Prince Edward Island Preserve Company, scenic and sustainable. I ship Gail and Saskia, hell all the cooks in the family and even my non-cooking brother 'liott, couple case each of the locally grown fruit jams and marmalades. Relax and enjoy the picturesque landscape. As sunset captures the day.
The flight home, my little wife is tucker out. Her Literature addiction sated for now. I can't wait to take her to England and let her loose in the Lake country.
Tomorrow heading home.
Tonight, I stare out across the sublime lite central park. The late-night fog has settle leaving a hush and eerie bane on the city. I sip my whiskey, letting the burn soothe my tortured soul. My lady is sleeping a health sleep not ten feet from me. tomorrow we head back to Seattle and the world.
I look from the landscape to the Madonna in my bed. Her hair a golden tint in the moonlight and city glow. Her nose a cute snort and lips a pleasure land demanding attention. I slip back into bed and make her comfortable in my arms. The few hours we have left on this escape are winding down; as visions of children run about Anna's house on the Sound.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The rain pours down the roofs in the tropic outside of Amsterdam, Suriname. The warehouse in the cul-de-sac of the jungle is forlorn and bleak. I let the rain wash away doubts and fears. I see the Hummer cruising up the muddy road, pulling into the driveway.
I step out into the light, holding my AK 12 ga. shotgun with twenty round stick magazine. "Hola Mr. Smith. Mr. Trader is inside. Please the door is open" I pigeon talk them inside.
The inside belies the weary exterior. An old man with huge cigar sits waiting at a table. He smiles at Mr. Smith and his two henchmen. If he knew that smile he'd draw and shoot. But his ignorance is bliss right now.
"you have my items?"
"Si. Mint condition, still in the sealed case. On the bench behind you."
Mr. Smith open the crate. The green case with yellow marking proclaim it a new version stinger missile. He stupidly grins.
"Excellent, load them."
"Not so fast, Commodore. First you transfer the money to this account." he holds up his cell phone. The Asshole starts typing on his.
"half now, half when I reach the airfield. Ok?"
"Si, when I get the confirmation. While we wait let me show you the best thing in the house. Just got it in from Aberdeen. You may want to bid on it." he walks them over to a large engine transportation case. Hitting a switch on the small overhead crane the lips rises.
The asshole turns green, as the two bodies appear in the bottom. "BANG BANG" his henchman fall. He turns to us. "you'll never get the rest of the money, I have people that will hunt you."
The old guy smiles at him. "Money. You think this is about money. No admiral! This is about two little girls who deserve to be happy and free. This is a intervention. My friend Paul and I are going to insure you never blacken our door again." He drives a foot-long bayonet thru the Admiral gut. Pushing him into the packing case.
I smirk at him, he doesn't understand. He was a sailor who never went to seas, never fought beyond the pen and paper. A paper tiger who only beat up children and girls. I take the small pocket 45 I used to end his bodyguards.
"We haven't been introduced. My name in Paul Lambert, my niece is Mrs. Anna Grey. You should have never tried to be what you never were. Slow death in the box." I grimace as I unload the clip into his groin. Fred, Barney's IT cohort helps me load the bodies. We close the lid and screw in the forty bolts.
Leaving I can still hear the admiral begging. I wonder if Bee's begging sounded like that, I doubt it. Bee has sand. The paper tiger is just a worthless. A truck pulls in and takes the case to a deep mine in the hills. Once the case is deep inside, Luke will blast the mountain down over it.
I watch the kids play in the market, watch them laugh and run about carefree. I remember my brother Frank like that. How I miss him. How he must be looking down from heaven at his daughter, singing to her. Happy as a clam that she has found her love and life. I turn to the hills were a puff of debris rises.
I look to the rising moon, sing to my brother.
To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep
To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, under heaven
A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together
To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, under heaven
A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace, a time to refrain from embracing
To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, under heaven
A time to gain, a time to love
A time for you to feel our love
A time for Annie, a time to start family anew
A time for us, I swear it's not too late
Songwriters: Peter Seeger
Turn! Turn! Turn! (To Everything There Is a Season) lyrics © T.R.O. Inc