Why Didn't I Just...
Chapter 13

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Time Travel, Historical, DoOver,

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 13 - Jimmy Gordon has spent his life drinking, smoking and making money. Now, his lifestyle has caught up with him and he has no time left. At home, drinking and feeling sorry for himself, he finds the one thing he really needs, a second chance.



I got to school early, taking special care when I parked the Caddy. My first class was Finance, and the instructor went over his expectations and passed out a schedule that told all of us when the tests were, and broke down how we would be graded for each component part of the class. We would have a term paper that would be due a week before our final. It seemed straight forward enough to me, and I wasn't expecting to have any problems. The next class was Principles of Real Estate, and it was taught by a guy who was a local real estate broker. Half of this first class was taken up by him bragging to us about all of the great and creative deals he had managed to put together during his fifteen years in the business. He handed out a one page outline of the class. I got the impression that the broker was hoping to hire several of the older students in the class, and that he was teaching mostly as a means to recruit new agents.

New agents yes, and young women to take sexual advantage of. He has a penchant for seducing young girls that are impressed with his business success and earning power.

<I doubt that he's had much success with these college girls, not with his age, looks and that big gut of his. He must be what, forty five or so?>

He's been successful enough to keep him coming back semester after semester. You'd be surprised what women will do just to be near money. I take that back, Jimmy, you used to employ pretty much the same methods.

<I never had the big gut that he has, and most of my seductions were with prostitutes. Besides, I never went out and set traps for them.>

How would you like to do me a favor, and make some money for yourself as well?

<Sounds okay to me. What do I do?>

You need to drive down to San Clemente and I'll lead you to the money. Once you have it, you need to drive back here and then go into Los Angeles. Remember when I mentioned giving that seven thousand dollars to Paul Frenchak? We need to move more quickly than I had planned on. We only have until six tonight to get him the money. If he doesn't get it, the mission will have to close, and some families will be out on the street again.

<Sure, I wasn't doing anything important anyway. How much money is there? And whose money is it?>

There's quite a bit of it, but we aren't taking it all. We'll take twenty thousand, and leave the rest. As to who has the right to the money, that is somewhat more complicated. The money was stolen from a really evil man, by one of his employees. Some of it has already been spent, but, the owner won't know how much of it was spent until he locates the money, and counts it for himself, sometime tomorrow. The man who actually stole the money from him is already dead.

<Is this going to be dangerous?>

I will be with you the whole time. There is no danger. I had already had several demonstrations of the voice's power to control my body. It made sense that he could control others as well. If he told me that it was safe, I had to believe him.

<So, we get this money, and I give this Frenchak guy his seven thousand?>

There's no need to stint, in as much as this is a windfall for you, Jimmy. Give him ten thousand, and then tell him that he'll get another five thousand next month.

<Where should I say the money came from? He'll probably ask me, don't you think?>

I like the story that you've been telling Tiny and Terri, about your secretly wealthy father. Tell him that. Don't tell him your name though, or give him a way to contact you. He's always trying to expand his mission. If he can reach you, he'll bombard you with financial requests.

I drove down to San Clemente. There were no freeways, so I used the coast highway. It took longer, but it was a beautiful day and my car rode like a dream. The voice led me over to a house that sat by itself on a dirt road.

Go in the back, behind the house. There is a shed there where the tools are kept. In the very back, there is a tool box, and the money is in there. Each packet contains five thousand dollars, just take four of them, and leave the rest. I did what he had told me to do. When I got to the tool box, there must have been at least fifty packets neatly packed inside there. I knew a moment of greed, but I let it pass. The voice had told me to take four, and that is what I did. I shut the box back up and returned everything else to where it had been when I first came in. Tempting, wasn't it?

<Sure, but I figured that you had your reasons. Why don't I just give this other guy the fifteen thousand today, and then I won't have to come back to see him next month?>

Because he'll just hand it out to people in need, and then he'll be broke next month when people will still have a need for his help.

<If that's true, why don't we just give him what he absolutely needs today, and space out the rest so that he can last longer?>

Give him the ten thousand today. He will be happy with that much, and he really has immediate need for the money. You might ask him about buying a car so that he can take some of these people that he's been helping, over to some job interviews.

<Him buying it, or me buying it?>

I was thinking about him buying it, but you've just given me an idea. Right now, drive into Los Angeles, I'll show you where.

Paul Frenchak was about fifty five or so. He was crazy. A zealot. Not a religious zealot though, he was on of those 'I am my brother's keeper' kinds of zealots. He wanted to help save everybody. Due to a lack of means, he concentrated on families with children who were destitute and homeless. He had a big, one story building that was filled up with cots and bunks. On most nights, ten or twelve families slept and ate there. During the day, he locked the doors and went out hustling for funds from whatever sources he could find. He paid rent on the building whenever he could, and had an account with several food suppliers. His fund raising methods soon wore thin with his benefactors, because whatever they gave him was never enough for his needs. Right now, he was having a big dry spell with his fund raising, and he was about to become one of the homeless himself. I found him in front of the mission, pan handling for money.

"Are you Paul Frenchak?" He looked at me suspiciously.

"Who are you?"

"I'm a guy who was told to go see you, and to find out if you needed some help." He stood up straighter and smiled at me.

"I'm Paul Frenchak, and I'm sorry about the way I sounded earlier. I've been distracted by some problems. You mentioned help? Can you give me an idea of the kind of help that you can provide me. I'm afraid I'm not in a position right now to offer you any employment."

"I meant financial help. My father has heard of your program, and he heard that you might need some help."

"I didn't get your name, I'm sorry."

"It's Jimmy, but my dad said not to tell you our last names. He said that he didn't want you pestering him to do any more than he wanted to."

"Of course. I understand. It's just that there are so many people in need of just a little assistance. Whatever he can offer will be appreciated. Did he happen to send any money with you, today? It's all right if he didn't, but, if he did, I have some pressing needs to attend to."

"He did send me with some money, but I don't think this is private enough for me to give it to you. I wouldn't want to see you mugged for the money."

"In this neighborhood, I can assure you that I'm as safe as if I were in a bank vault. No one here would let me come to any harm." He used his hands to point out the women and children that were sitting on the edges of the buildings foundation which stuck out about twelve inches all around.

"If it's all the same to you, Mr. Frenchak, can we go sit for a moment in my car? There are some things I need to tell you, and I'd prefer that it was in private. After I leave, you are free to share this information with whoever you choose to."

"Certainly. This is a nice car. Is it your father's personal automobile?"

"Actually, it's mine, I just bought it yesterday."

"It is a fine car, and you must be a good son for your father to purchase it for you."

"I try to be." We were both seated in my car. The windows were down, but I started speaking quietly to him. "The thing is, my father gave me ten thousand dollars to give you today. He told me to tell you to get all of your debts paid, and to use the rest to further your work. He also told me that if you do a good job with this money, he's going to send me with another five thousand dollars next month. He also told me that you should think about getting a car to take some of the men that you are helping to their job interviews."

Jimmy, tell him that you'll buy him the car later.

"I'll actually be getting the car for you Mr. Frenchak, but it might take me awhile."

"You say that you've brought me ten thousand dollars? Cash? Right here, now?" I took out two of the packets and handed them to him. His eyes lit up like he'd just seen Santa Claus or something. Come to think of it, he had. He hesitated to take the money, unsure whether I was going to place conditions on it. Or, maybe he couldn't believe that it was real. I thrust the money forward, into his hands.

"Take it, that's why my father sent it with me." His fingers closed around the money, and for a minute, I was afraid he'd try to kiss me.

"You don't understand what this means to these people. I can do so much with this kind of support. You tell your father thank you, a thousand thank yous. Tell him that I'm not spending a penny of his money on myself either."

Tell him that your father wants him to take better care of himself and to eat and sleep better than he has been. Tell him if he gets sick, there won't be any more money.

"Mr. Frenchak, my father told me that you have to eat better, and make sure that you get more rest. He told me to tell you that if you get sick, his support will stop."

"I really don't want to seem ungracious or unappreciative, Jimmy, but, if it's all right with you, I really need to take care of some things that your father's money has made possible. If you'll please excuse me?"

"Sure, you do what needs doing. Remember what I told you about taking care of yourself though. I'll be back later with a car for you." He got out and, after a few seconds, I started my car and drove off.

<He seems like a nice guy, for a fruitcake. He really tries to help all those people that I saw?>

Yes, and many more besides. He does it out of a sense of guilt, as atonement for his own daughter who ended up down here with her two children. He was once a wealthy man, but he's spent it all helping people, while he searches for his daughter and grandchildren.

<Will he ever find them?>

I'm afraid not, Jimmy. It's better for him that he still has that hope though. It is the only thing that keeps him going.

<Couldn't you do something for him? Help him to find them?>

They've been dead for nine years now. There isn't anything that I can do.

<That doesn't seem like it would be much of a life, for him I meant.>

He's more content right now than he's ever been. He's found something that he can be proud of doing.

<I felt like giving him the other two packets too.>

I know that. It isn't necessary though. The way that you've been going through money, you'll need all of that and more. Why don't we go pay Mr. Renick another visit, Jimmy, and see what kind of a deal you can make for Paul Frenchak's new car.

I drove back to Fullerton, and as soon as I was parked at the curb with my car, I saw Mr. Renick walking towards me. He looked concerned.

"Anything wrong with that car Mr. Gordon? We'll fix it right up for you if there is."

"No sir, these Cadillac's are too nice to cause any trouble. I came back to see you to find out if you can help me out with something. There's this man in Los Angeles, he runs a private mission for some families that are down on their luck. I wanted to help him out with a good transportation car so that he could take the father's around to look for work for themselves. I was hoping that you had a fair trade in that you could sell me at a reasonable price."

"Is this mission a recognized charity? Does it have a name?"

"No, its just this one man who tries to help people, and he's run through all of his own savings. My dad tries to help him out when he can."

"Let's take a look and see what we have. I'll sell you anything on my used lot for my cost. Would that be fair?"

"You don't have to do that. We can afford to pay you a fair profit too."

"I want to help. This is something that might make a difference to some people, maybe help them get another start. I like it."

We found a Pontiac that looked pretty good. Mr. Renick called one of his mechanics over to take it out and make sure that everything was working all right. We settled on the car, and went inside to write it up. The voice provided me with the address and the correct spelling for Paul's Frenchak's name. I told Mr. Renick that I'd like him to have it delivered to that address, and that I'd pay the expense. He refused to take any more money, claimed that delivery was included by the dealership whenever it was required. He said that the car would be delivered the next day, in the morning. I took a chance and told Mr. Renick that his men should leave the car parked outside the mission if Mr. Frenchak wasn't available. I told him that he could leave the keys and the paperwork with any of the women sitting on the building's foundation. He looked at me funny, but said that he'd instruct the delivery men to do that.

I went over to Tiny's. When I got there, he had the boat parked in the driveway on it's trailer, and he had all kinds of other things on the driveway too. It was a boat, white in color, and it looked about fifteen feet long. There was a big outboard motor in the back, and Tiny had two other, smaller motors, laid out on some tarp. The boat had a canvas cover that was fitted over the top.

"This the new boat, Tiny?"

"Oh yeah. She's a beauty, don't you think? Look at all this other stuff the guy threw in. Three five gallon gas jerry cans. a hand gas pump. Look at this, a bamboo and steel gaff. We could go fishing right now if we wanted to." I wasn't a fisherman, had no interest in it. My father though, he was a rabid fisherman. Unfortunately, like Tiny, he fished mostly by reading Field & Stream, and watching pictures of other people's catches.

"Did you make me that list yet? Of all the things that you and he might need?"

"I jotted down a couple of things, but, remember now, these aren't absolutely necessary to have." He handed me a folded sheet of paper, and there were about thirty items, most of it having to do with new reels and rods. Beside each item, there was a figure that I assumed represented the items cost. It all came to three hundred and seventy dollars.

"Damn, Tiny. Are you sure about this? I don't see any tackle on here. Don't you need line, hooks, sinkers and lures? I told you that we had better not stint on this. You know how he gets when he doesn't have exactly what he needs?" Tiny had once held the job of being my father's photo equipment man. He had to have cases and cases of things that my father might need when he was out shooting a movie. If he told you to pack something, and you didn't, if he actually needed it, you got a severe ass chewing. I could see by Tiny's face that he remembered several such ass chewing's.

"I'm not done yet, Jimmy. I just thought that you wanted to see what I'd come up with so far. That's all."

"Okay, I misunderstood you. I thought you'd only done half the job or something. Here's five hundred dollars, I want you to buy all of the stuff on this list, and if you think of anything else while you're gone, get that too." This was fun. Tiny was thrilled at being able to run wild with this. He took the money and said something about getting right on it. "Tiny have you been working on this all day?" He nodded to me, somewhat sheepishly. "You take twenty five dollars out of that money that I gave you, and you give it to Terri. My dad said to pay you if you had to spend a lot of time on getting this done for him."

"What about all that other money that you gave us?"

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Time Travel / Historical / DoOver /