Warnings for this chapter: sex between 17-year-old Jotaro and adult women, sexual content


"I want to go somewhere," Joseph whispered, cornering Jotaro after dinner. They were in Karachi, Pakistan.

"I'll go get the others."

"No," Joseph said, "They won't be cool. Just us."

"Lead the way," Jotaro huffed. Who knew where the Old Man would drag him? Probably some boring record store or vintage electronics shop. He followed Joseph down the dusty streets. They passed more restaurants, then squeezed through a busy market, finally reaching thatch huts on the outskirts of town. As they veered left, the air gained a strange, stifling quality. Old women guarded the doors of the huts nearby, and local men, who had gawked so freely at Joseph and Jotaro in the market, kept their eyes fixed on the ground. Jotaro watched a man in a kaftan approach one of the old women, and they spoke in Urdu, rapidly back and forth, their voices rising, until the man sneered and paced off. A different woman called the man over, and her offerings were more to his liking. He handed her a banknote, then crawled through the hut's flap door. Jotaro made a noise, suddenly understanding where Joseph had taken him.

"I assume you've been there and done that?" Joseph queried, his neck twisting towards his grandson.

Jotaro hesitated. Though it had happened months ago, it was all so vivid. After dodging Holly's insistence that he ask Cazue on date, without any semblance of assurance from her family, he changed into a black shirt and pants, and stormed off. He ended up at a nightclub, shooting vodka at the bar. A woman approached him, and soon they were at her apartment. It wasn't until she took off her dress, in the bright lights of her entryway, that he realized that she was older than his mother. He considered leaving, but he was frozen. Transfixed. He could not stop staring. Eventually, she took off his pants. He was rock hard.

He watched raptly as she kneeled between his legs, brushing his cock with her lips. Then he came. Stream after stream, soaking her face, her body, even her discarded shoes. She started laughing. Red-faced, Jotaro dressed as quickly as he could. She followed him to the door, still laughing, until he shoved her away and stormed off.

The woman's cackling echoed in Jotaro's mind, as, finally, he found the right words. "I've done some things and not others," he said to Joseph.

The old man blinked, then quickly patted Jotaro's shoulder, "Sometimes, I forget how young you are." His voice was kind and encouraging, but Jotaro sensed a slight in it, too.

Eventually, Joseph found a hut he liked, and talked to the woman outside the door. Jotaro didn't speak the language, but he could tell that Joseph was no novice at these negotiations. Soon, Joseph counted a sum of cash from his wallet, which he put in the woman's hand, then laid two 10,000 rupee notes on top. He motioned Jotaro inside.

There were two women waiting, both in long, colorful cloaks, with embroidered hoods covering their heads. One was substantially younger and more attractive, and Joseph approached her immediately. The other smiled at Jotaro, sitting him down on a makeshift bed constructed out of tire crates. She kneeled between his legs, untucking his tank top and running her hands along the exposed flesh. She fiddled with his belts until he showed her how to unbuckle them.

The woman opened his pants. He was starting to swell. She took him first in her hands, then lowered her head between his legs. Jotaro tried to keep quiet, worried that Joseph would hear, but how could he, when a girl was right on his … ? He whimpered, and, in the distance, he heard Joseph laugh. Jotaro tried to hold on, grasping the bed and curling his feet in his shoes, but he couldn't. He waited for the woman to recoil, but she kept lapping and lapping, massaging his exposed lower back.

She met his eyes with a kind smile and cupped his cheeks with her hands. Then she slowly undressed him. Her soft fingers were so gentle as she removed each garment. When he was naked, she laid him down and tucked him under the sheets. Standing at the foot of the bed, she caught his gaze and started to undress. It was a strange striptease. She spent a long time fiddling with her hood before she lowered it, stroking her hair, then when she got to her cloak, she walked all around the bed, highlighting her waist in her Punjab pants. But she removed her shirt quickly, like it was in the way.

By the time she was done, Jotaro was hard again. She pulled down the sheets and straddled him. Meeting his eyes, she ran her hands down his chest. Her face was kind and motherly. She was beautiful. Leaning forward, she whispered into his ear, in a language that they didn't share, but he understood. He was a good boy. She was proud of him. She wanted to help him become a man.

She slid down on him, and it was perfect. It was fate. He'd been through hell, and there was only more ahead. Their paths had crossed so that she could sustain him.


By Miami's warm November, the women had become a blur. There was the redhead from Austin, who refused to remove her sequined cowboy hat, even as her head hit Jotaro's pillow. The blonde from Philadelphia, who drank every beer in his fridge before fucking him in one of the chairs at his kitchen table, then stayed until dawn, puking in the guestroom toilet. The pudgy Filipino whose tits didn't quite hold the euphoria that Trent had promised.

Soon, Jotaro got off a plane in New York for the Thanksgiving holidays. The airport was chaos. Jotaro squeezed past a mother, who was nudging two tired toddlers towards a gate, then an old man, who was pushing an even older woman in a wheelchair. He stepped over a young couple, who was sitting on a blanket on the terminal floor, next to a waiting area where every seat was occupied. Jotaro continued a few more steps, before coming to a stop. The girl was Gina. Jotaro peeked back through the crowd, with a fleeting hope he might be mistaken, but it was definitely her. The man was wiry and blonde, and his arm was wrapped around her waist, fondling the flesh that was exposed between her shirt and pants. He wasn't her brother.

Jotaro glanced at the screen above the screen. Phoenix. Of course. For a moment he considered looping back. Tripping over their blanket, dropping his bags, and letting the awkwardness build as she helped him pick them up. But what would it even matter? Gina's companion was the suitable pale-faced partner, and Jotaro was the temporary, exotic lover. As it had always been.

Jotaro plodded towards the baggage carousel, his heart sinking. How had he ended up here, again? Trent had tried to help him. Trent had pointed out which girl was realistic. Why hadn't he listened? Kelly's face flared with acne, and her figure verged on fat, but he could have lived with it. He could have made it happen. But she'd started going to the keggers with someone else.


Jotaro still felt deflated as he stepped out of a black limousine and up the steps into his grandparents' home. It was as spectacular as the photos that Holly had shown him in a magazine when he was young. A large crystal chandelier lit the entrance hall, illuminating several large bouquets of flowers and a Rodin sculpture that Jotaro knew was authentic. He expected that Joseph would appear any moment, but instead, a servant, a stranger, took his coat and led him up to a bedroom, instructing him to change into his evening wear. Only then was he taken to the living room where Joseph and Suzie were sitting.

"Jotaro!" Suzie grinned, as she ran up and hugged him. It was sweet, considering they barely knew each other.

Joseph stood too, squeezing Jotaro's shoulder, "Welcome!"

He nodded, searching the room, "Is Mother arriving soon?"

Suzie gave Joseph a sharp look, "He scared her off."

Jotaro's mouth twisted.

"I did not," Joseph grumbled.

"What do you call that whole tirade about Han Nakamura?" Suzie put her hands on her hips.

"I mentioned a few facts-"

"You badgered her," Suzie huffed, "I don't blame her for not wanting to spend Thanksgiving listening to you gripe."

"I merely told her-"

"You've done good business with Mr. Nakamura," Suzie cut in, "And Holly was in that awful marriage for so long. I'm glad she's met someone nice."

"Apparently not enough for me to show any regard for me." Joseph crossed his arms, "I refuse to be pleased that she's met another one."

Jotaro sighed, "Good grief you two."

"She blames me," Joseph thrust his hand in his wife's direction, "But it's not my fault your mother doesn't want to crawl out of her love nest."


After dinner, Jotaro sat in a wingback chair, puffing a cigar in the mansion's smoking lounge. Joseph sat nearby, drinking whiskey. They had a short conversation about Jotaro's class schedule, and his apartment, and how his car was running.

Then Joseph winked, "Have you met many girls?"

Jotaro inhaled some cigar smoke, then launched into the story of the girl who'd drank all his beer, then got sick. Trent had laughed a lot at that one.

Joseph cackled, "I suppose if you've got a guy buying you drinks, you've got to go for the max."

Jotaro chuckled. He opened his mouth to tell of the girl in the cowboy hat, but he thought of Gina, and his voice fell off. He quickly puffed his cigar to cover his mouth. He watched Joseph finish his glass, then wave to a servant for another. "How did you meet Grandma Suzie?"

Joseph leaned back in his chair, giving Jotaro a piercing look "Did tell you how I defeated the Pillarmen?"

"At every opportunity," Jotaro quipped. It had been a favorite topic of his as they traveled through Egypt.

Joseph drew his hand to his chest, gesturingtouché. "I was injured afterwards, and she took care of me. She was my mother's maid."

Jotaro nodded, though he felt a twinge of jealousy. Why couldn't his suffering have brought him more than a night with a Pakistani prostitute, a lost friendship and a trip back to being spat at on the subway? Jotaro rolled his cigar in his hand, "She took such good care of you that you knew she'd be a good wife?"

Joseph looked up at the ceiling, his mouth moving a bit, then looked back down at Jotaro and winked, "Let me tell you a secret. I was all bandaged up, and Suzie had to replace them every so often. Every so often her hands would slip." He tittered, "She was so pretty back then, too. She was all I could think of." He raised his glass, then drank from it, "So, I'm getting better and stronger, and one day, the urge just hits us like a lightning bolt." His eyes glinted, "I thought she was a hussy, but she, you know-" He hesitated, searching for words, "Bled all over the place." He stared into his glass, "She was poor, but she was from a good family and she was so upset afterwards, worried that she was pregnant, afraid that she'd ruined her future." Joseph leaned forward, "Have you ever seen her cry? I couldn't have that. I called a priest over to marry us that afternoon."

Jotaro stared at him.

"I might have shared too much," Joseph said quickly. He flicked one hand, "But no regrets, honestly. Everything turned out great."

Jotaro returned his smile, then sucked at his cigar, trying to find the words for what he wanted to say. How the girls were like water, plentiful, everywhere, slipping through his fingers the moment he started to drink. "Why do you think Suzie liked you?"

Joseph laughed. "You might find this hard to believe, but girls were climbing all over me when I was young." He pointed at Jotaro, "Like you." He motioned for another whiskey, "I'm glad times have changed. You're having such fun and no girl's expecting a proposal. It's going to be a long time before you even have to worry."


A/N: Thanks for reading! Please let me know if you're enjoying this story. Or hate it. Or are just strangely intrigued :D