Beth 4
Chapter 6

Copyright© 2010 by Svengali's Ghost

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 6 - Beth and Tommy continue their journey. A new home, new schools and new adventures. Suggest you read Beth 1 through Beth 3 first.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa  

After the girls' shopping trip we stopped at the duplex where Beth and Gail disappeared into our bedroom with the bag from Vickie's. Since we had plenty of time we decided to eat at a local Italian restaurant. Good food, just not as good as the Pizza Palace. With food taken care of, we drove to one of the campus parking ramps and walked to the auditorium. My brother promised to wait in front of the auditorium after the concert. Since he was almost hopping up and down with excitement I thought he would have agreed to anything.

As Beth and I strolled down the mall between the classic facades of the university's original buildings, she looked at the stream of kids headed the opposite direction.

"Tommy, are we hopelessly out of touch?"

"Why, because we're going to a jazz concert instead of spending too much money to see the latest group? Yeah, I guess we are."

We walked across Washington on one of the arched pedestrian bridges that led to the student union, where we spent the evening listening to a local vocalist and her trio.

After the concert we walked back to the auditorium and quickly spotted Kevin and Gail sitting at a table on the auditorium's plaza.

"See! Right where we said we'd be!" He gloated.

"Well, I'll have to tell Mom you followed instructions. Maybe she'll paste a gold star on your forehead," I kidded him. That got me an elbow in the ribs from my lady.

Once home, we wished our guests a good night and retreated to our room where Beth dissolved into giggles.

"Okay, what's so funny?" I asked.

"Remember the white lace outfit I bought that first Saturday when you took me shopping? The one that left you tongue-tied? Well, Gail bought the same set today. Kevin should be getting to them about now."

I hoped Kev didn't mind his girlfriend wearing something from Vickie's. Yeah, right. About that time we heard a yelp followed by a playful giggle. I guess my brother reacted the same way I did.

I stepped behind Beth and started unbuttoning her blouse, then unzipped her jeans. She kept her back to me as she stepped out of the jeans, then slipped off her blouse and turned to reveal HER set of white lacy nothings. Oh, boy!

Traditionalist that I am, I picked her up, laid her on the bed face-down and started at her neck with the light kisses I knew drove her wild. I was damned if my little brother was going to have all the fun tonight!

Sunday morning I was fixing coffee when Gail wandered into the kitchen wrapped in one of the sleeping bags and wearing one of the most impressive yawns I'd ever seen.

"Good morning!" I said to the blinking girl. "You want some coffee? We have orange and grapefruit juice in the refrigerator or Coke if you like your caffeine cold."

"Umm, I guess I'll take some orange juice," Gail said around another huge yawn.

"Didn't get much sleep last night?" I asked.

"Um, no, I guess not," she said as a pretty pink flush appeared on her cheeks.

Beth walked in from the bedroom wearing one of my t-shirts. She ended up with almost the same shade of pink on her cheeks when I slid my hand up the back of her leg only to discover the t-shirt was ALL she was wearing!

I turned back to check on the coffee. After the previous night caffeine was definitely going to be required. I looked over my shoulder to ask Gail if she'd wake up Kevin, but she and Beth were already deep in conversation as they walked to our bedroom, so it fell to me to get my sluggard brother out of the remaining sleeping bag.

Nudging the brother-shaped lump on the floor didn't accomplish anything. Shaking his shoulder generated not so much as a moan. Time for some psychological warfare.

"Holy crap! Look at what Gail's wearing!"

Now that got a reaction. Kevin rolled over and I almost broke out laughing at the expression on his face: a combination of lustful expectation and abject fear. I guessed Kevin wasn't the only one to get turned on last night.

"Oh, God, Tommy," he moaned. "Don't do that." He ran his fingers through his hair and sat up.

"Tommy, I can't believe what happened last night. I mean Gail was ... I was..."

I just nodded. "I know. Beth wore hers too."

"Beth? She's got stuff like that? Really?" I guess Kevin never got the memo about the new Beth.

"Uh huh, she does. I remember the first time I saw her with that set on." Suddenly my jeans were too small as I thought back to that Saturday afternoon.

"Gail scared me last night. I mean she wouldn't leave me alone! Tommy, almost that whole box of rubbers you got me are gone!" The combination of awe, pride and fear in his voice had me grinning.

"It's not funny! I thought she was going to kill me!"

"Yeah, Pest, but can you think of a better way to go?" Kev didn't even react to my zingy. Since the day we had our little talk about "Pest" and "Squirt," I'd been careful not to use them, but this morning even his old sobriquet wasn't connecting. Last night must have been something special!

Eventually Kevin got up, grabbed his backpack, and headed for the bathroom. About the same time Beth and Gail came out of our room, dressed for the day, with huge grins on their faces. I wondered what they'd talked about as they were getting ready.

I'd finished my second cup of coffee by the time breakfast was ready. Gail and Kevin insisted on fixing the meal as payback for our hospitality. My brother cooking? Apparently Gail had more talents than just putting a silly grin on his face.

"So how are things at school?" I asked. I'd only been away from the place a few months and I was already missing it ... a little.

"High school's sure different from middle school," Gail said. "It seems so, I don't know, intimidating, I guess."

"Yeah, I remember what my Freshman year was like. It gets better," I assured her.

"Who's the assistant principal since Adams "retired"?" I was a little more than curious.

"We've got a Mrs. Smith this year. She runs around trying to be everybody's friend. All the kids laugh behind her back."

A friendly AP? Was that legal? I glanced at Beth and just got a shrug in return. Apparently the idea was as foreign to her.

After breakfast we drove Kev and Gail home. Just before we left I walked into my "studio" and found my brother staring at the Caribbean sunset photo Beth gave me after our first trip. I had hung it on the wall right above my drafting table where I could look at it any time.

Or that's where it normally hung. Kevin had taken the picture down and was sitting at my drafting table, staring at it. Or more properly, staring at the photo on the reverse—my own Venus, rising from the sea.

"So you found it, huh?" I said, once I had his attention.

"God, Tommy, she's beautiful," he whispered. "I-I mean the picture is beautiful ... I mean..." he ran down, staring again at my lady, radiant in the dying light of the Island sun.

I knew the feeling, I'd spent many white nights—you know, those nights when you just can't sleep—staring at that photo. The strange thing was my reaction had changed since starting school. My original reaction to my surprise present was disbelief. When I took the backing paper off I could barely believe such a creature as the one I saw was willing to even acknowledge my existence. From there visceral lust took over. That was MY woman and I wanted her—NOW! That led to some interesting nights, and a few disappointing ones. Something about waking her up from a sound sleep. Since starting school, especially after a couple of weeks in Grossfeld's Western Art class, I had gained the ability to look at the picture from a more artistic side and see the details that created my favorite image.

"Um, Tommy, could you ... err, would you ... I mean, well..."

I'd been half expecting the request Kevin was trying to get out. "Kev, don't ask. I'd love to be able to do a picture for Gail and you, but I won't do it until you're both legal. The author of some of my favorite on-line stories is spending several years in jail because they found pictures of underage kids on his computer. I know you wouldn't do anything to get me in trouble, but digital pictures have a way of leaking out, and once they hit the Web it's all over but the shouting. I'm sorry."

Kevin nodded as he took one more look at my lady then stood up with a sigh and re-hung the photo in its place of honor.

After we dropped the kids off Beth and I drove out to the farm.

"I heard Kevin saw my picture," my lady said as we lay enjoying the late afternoon sun.

"Yeah. I had no idea he even knew about it. I knew he'd see it some day, but I didn't feel right sharing it with anyone." That caused Beth to snuggle closer to me.

"Tommy, when we first met I would have been mortified to know a picture like that even existed, but now ... I don't know, I can look at it and see what a great photographer you are and see just how good I can look. I know that makes me sound horribly vain, but when I look at it I guess it's almost like I'm not seeing ME, if you know what I mean. So, there's no problem with Kevin seeing it. As a matter of fact, it was probably Gail that told him about it. You know she's seen the copy on my computer. I'll just bet she mentioned it to him."

How did I feel watching my brother devouring my lady's image with his eyes? That was complicated: I was proud that the beauty in the picture was mine, but kind of jealous that I had to share her image.

Monday it was back to the usual. I hoped to spend my hour in Western Art off Grossfeldt's radar. Of course, being a Monday, that didn't work.

"Mr. Randahl, are you trying to hide way back there? I think you should come up here and explain to everyone just what you learned from the two chapters I assigned Friday. You DID read them, did you not?"

Luckily, I had. I grabbed my notes and put on a quick dog-and-pony show.

By this time I'd pretty well figured out my tormentor's opinions of particular styles and managed to feed them back to him. In my own words, of course. When I was done I thought I almost saw a smile. Was that possible?

After school, I called Scott at the paint shop to tell him to expect all my stuff and to find out if he wanted payment in advance.

"Tommy, don't worry about it. I'll send you a bill after I'm done.

"By the way, is this going to include all the nuts and bolts?"

OH SHIT! I'd been so busy getting things set up for machining the big parts I'd forgotten about the hardware!

"No, Scott. I'm going to order black hardware so you won't have to mess with the little stuff." I made a note to hit the web site for the supplier Chuck suggested as soon as I got home.

We talked for a few more minutes and I thought I finally had everything straight. Damn, this manufacturing stuff was a lot more complicated then just coming up with a gadget people wanted!

The rest of the week was a lot calmer. I'd picked up the hardware from Chuck's supplier and dropped it off at the non-profit that was going to do the assembly and packaging. I also brought a roll of labels I'd ordered with Photomongery and my web site on them. The assemblers would put one on each finished unit. Oh, and did the artwork for the packaging, and double-checked my web site. Jim and Dan had a link set up so anyone who clicked on "Buy Now" would be transferred to Joe's order page with the extender information already filled in.

Okay, maybe a LITTLE calmer.

Scott called Thursday to let me know all the powder coating was done and everything was at the assemblers. Now I just had to wait.

Friday after my classes I drove to the Convention Center to meet George and do his pictures. After registering, I found George's booth with the poster-sized print showing the exploded view of his valve prominently displayed. Several people were around the booth, looking at the samples George had on display, and I noticed a couple of them checking out my pictures. As I walked up George noticed me.

"Tommy! I'm glad you're here! Tommy, this is Cliff Thomas. Cliff is the local rep for one of the machines we use. Cliff, this is Tommy Randahl. He's responsible for that picture you were asking about." I shook Cliff's hand and answered his questions about how I'd managed the exploded view. After a few minutes he excused himself.

"Tommy, I've got to get back to my booth. Stop over if you've got a chance. Oh, and do you have a business card?" Luckily, I'd stuck a bunch in my pocket just before I left the duplex.

I spent the next hour photographing George with some of the booth visitors. It was interesting watching him interact with each person who walked up. It didn't take too long to separate his suppliers from potential clients, although I was surprised at how informal everything was. I'd never been to a convention before and I guess I was expecting everyone to be in suits, acting very business-like. That certainly wasn't the case here. It looked more like a bunch of guys getting together after a round of golf—casual clothes and none of the hard-sell I thought I'd see.

When I'd finished George's shots I walked around looking at all the machinery on display. Most of it was computer controlled, like the stuff Beth's folks used, but the size and type varied all over the map. One machine was only about a foot square. They were demonstrating engraving jewelry and other small pieces. At the other extreme was a flat-bed water jet table that must have been five feet wide and at least ten feet long. Although they didn't have the jet working they had the machine powered up and moving. There were several videos showing water cutting through half-inch thick aluminum. I don't know about the others, but I was impressed.

I couldn't figure out why there was such a big crowd around that display until I got close enough to see what was happening. They'd wired a joy stick into the system so the user could jockey the head around the table. To make it even more interesting there was a laser pointer attached to the head and a maze on the table. People were crowding around waiting for a chance to try to thread the red dot through the maze.

The most impressive display was a robot arm—the kind you see in videos of assembly lines welding and moving parts around. This behemoth stood almost ten feet tall and could probably reach the ceiling when fully extended.

"So, have you had lunch yet?"

I turned and saw Cliff Thomas grinning at me.

"Uh, no. I thought I'd grab something here. Why?"

"I thought maybe you'd like a ride."

A ride? Then I noticed the arm wasn't equipped with any of the usual mechanical gadgets, just a chair.

"Um, sure. Looks like fun." Little did I know.

Cliff took me over to the control console. "Tommy, better empty your pockets," he said, and handed me a small tray like they use at the airport. After I emptied my pockets and slipped the Nikon off my shoulder Cliff took me over to the arm. That's when I noticed the attached chair had a high back and a built-in footrest with clips to hold your feet in place.

Oh, and a full five-point safety harness. What had I volunteered for?

After Cliff had me strapped in he looked at me. "Tommy, do you get car-sick or anything?"

"No, why?"

"Oh, just so I know how to set the machine. Remember to hold on tight!" he chuckled as he walked back to the console.

I had just enough time to grab the armrests before the world went crazy: the chair flipped over so I was facing straight up and suddenly I was rocketing upward. The arm stopped just before my nose would have been crushed against the ceiling, flipped me upside down and plunged toward the floor. I quickly lost track of the spins, turns, and other gymnastics that followed. By the time I found myself back at ground level I was totally disoriented.

 
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