Chapter 52: We Should Go

April 5, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

"Fuuuuuuuuck!" Tara groaned as she slid down my shaft and engulfed me in her slick tunnel in her dorm room on Thursday evening.

She took a couple of deep breaths, let them out, and began grinding her clit against my pubic bone. It didn't take her long before she moaned, her pussy spasmed, and she groaned deeply. I watched intently as the thin, blonde girl with small breasts and wispy pubic hair continued grinding, extending her orgasm,

When it had passed, she leaned down so we could share a French kiss. Our tongues tangled for a minute before she sat up and began grinding again. She brought herself off twice more, French-kissing me after each one.

"I want you to fuck me hard," she whispered urgently.

Tara lifted off, and we switched positions, so she was on her back, and I was on top of her. I plunged into her with a firm stroke, and she groaned loudly as my pubic bone pressed on her clit. She wrapped her arms and legs around me and pushed her hips up to encourage me. I began slowly but quickly increased the speed and strength of my thrusts until we were fucking hard.

Tara had an orgasm which brought me close, then a second one which pushed me past the point of no return. I pushed completely inside her and ground against her clit as jets of cum spurted into her spasming pussy. When our mutual orgasms passed, we lay together until I softened and slipped from her, then moved off her to lie next to her.

"That," Tara said, breathing heavily, "was awesome."

"It was," I agreed.

"How long to recover?"

"Ten minutes; less with encouragement."

"Any hangups about eating pussy after you've cum in it?"

"No."

Tara moved on top of me, with her head by my groin and her pussy over my face. She grasped my shaft and began licking our combined juices from it, then lowered her pussy to my mouth. I brought her off once before she got me hard, then a second time as she bobbed, licked, and sucked. After a few minutes, she released me, turned, and quickly impaled herself on me. She brought herself off twice, kissing me after each one, then lifted off.

"Want to cum in my mouth?" she asked.

"Yes."

She turned and planted her pussy on my lips while she took my glans into her mouth. While I tongued her clit, she began stroking me while swirling her tongue and sucking hard. After a short time, she began bobbing, and right after I brought her off, I twitched, signaling Tara I was about to cum. She kept just my glans in her mouth and lashed it with her tongue while stroking me with one hand and squeezing my sack with the other.

It didn't take long before I groaned as cum exploded into Tara's mouth. She continued stroking, sucking, licking, and squeezing until she'd milked the last bit of cum from me. She made a few bobs, released me, turned, and made eye contact, getting permission to kiss. I nodded, and we exchanged a deep French kiss, though thankfully she had swallowed.

"No hangups with that, either!" she declared happily when she broke the kiss and moved next to me.

"You and Stefi didn't talk?"

"No. Well, she showed me her drawings, and told me you were awesome, but no details. I knew you were big from the drawings, but holy God, it felt like you were splitting me in two when I put in that first time. I've never felt so full in my life!"

"Glad to be of service!" I said with a grin.

"Well, I know at least half-a-dozen girls who could use a good servicing from a guy with a big dick!"

"Probably not a good idea at this juncture," I said.

"Stefi would murder me in my sleep!" Tara declared.

"I meant from my perspective, but there is that."

"Mind if I ask about your preferences or kinks?"

"No kinks that I'm aware of, and I'm pretty much game for anything hetero, though I'm not into S&M or any of the stranger stuff."

"Stranger stuff?" Tara asked.

"Water sports or scat."

"OK, you lost me on those."

"Playing with urine and feces."

"Ewww! That's just downright gross! People do that?"

"So I've heard. Nobody has ever asked, nor have I met anyone who thought either of those were appealing. And that includes girls who had tried anal."

"I never understood the point for straight people to do that. Gay guys, sure, because they don't have pussies, but otherwise? I just don't see it. Have you done it?"

"Yes, at the express request of a few girls who wanted to try it. Only one of them truly liked it."

"And you?"

"It didn't do anything special for me, and I very much prefer vaginal or oral; by miles."

"Have you had a threesome?"

"Yes, on quite a few occasions, actually. I was involved with two bi girls, one who strongly preferred girls and one who strongly preferred guys. The one who prefers guys got married last year; the one who prefers girls just broke up with a long-term girlfriend. I take it you haven't."

"No, and I'm not interested because I can't see myself even kissing a girl."

"I feel the same way about guys. Is there anything you want to do you haven't done?"

"Well, if my boobs weren't so small as to be almost non-existent, I'd like to try a tit fuck, but that's basically impossible. I did have a guy cum on my face, though it wasn't intended. Let's just say my first blowjob did not go very well! I choked and coughed, and only one spurt ended up in my mouth. It was actually kind of cool to have it on my face, but the guy didn't appreciate it at all."

"He's an idiot!" I declared. "Any girl who brings me off with her mouth is A-OK, splash, spit, or swallow!"

Tara laughed, "Splash, as in on her face or chest or whatever?"

"Yes, or even if it ends up on me. Seriously, being unhappy about a girl making you cum with her mouth is a sure sign of idiocy!"

"I like your attitude! Ready to go again?"

"Yes!"

"Lick me and fuck me hard? Then we'll do the sixty-nine, ride, sixty-nine before we shower."

"I like how you think!"

April 6, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

On Friday morning, when Jack and I arrived at the Hancock Center, I walked around to the condo entrance and went up to the 91st floor, taking my bag of spare clothes with me to leave in the condo. I let myself in and checked that the washer and dryer were hooked up, which they were, then went upstairs.

I checked the bedrooms, noting the different painted borders along with the pedestal beds — a king in the master bedroom and queens in the other three that would be used by Bianca, Deanna, and CeCi. The room that would be the gallery had simply had borders painted and had no furniture, as we had discussed.

Last, I checked the room that would be the nursery, and what caught my eye was the images that had been painted on the wall — bunnies, birds, a bear cub, and kittens on one wall, and balloons and rainbows on the opposite wall. That was a complete surprise, as Natasha hadn't mentioned it.

Satisfied that everything was going according to plan, I took the elevator down to the lobby, crossed to the business side, and took the elevator up to 29 to begin my day. I greeted Rich and Mark about the Asian markets and morning trading in Europe, then headed to the Research Department offices, where I made a pot of coffee and began my morning assessment.

The world was basically in a holding pattern, with the usual low-intensity conflicts continuing around the globe, but none appeared to be escalating or spreading, and things between the US and the Soviet Union had returned to a steady state after the KAL 007 shoot-down and the invasion of Grenada.

Two areas I was watching closely were Kashmir, where India and Pakistan were in perpetual conflict that might turn into open warfare, and Brazil, where popular sentiment was turning significantly against the military government installed after a coup supported by the United States. Based on reporting in the Times of India and translations of articles from the Brazilian press, I nudged my Asian and South American risk factors slightly upward.

On a positive note, President Reagan had, on Wednesday, called for a global ban on chemical weapons. That had been a response to claims by Iran that Iraq had used chemical weapons in the war between the two countries, an act condemned by the UN. I hadn't adjusted my global risk assessment for that, as I had every confidence nothing would happen, and if it did, the Russians and Chinese would cheat, and most likely, so would the US.

The rest of the morning was routine, and I had lunch with Violet in the break room and worked out in the gym. When I returned, I had a message from Joel Steinem, which I returned.

"I found your borrow. I negotiated 32 bips, which was below your maximum, so I executed the trade for you."

"Thanks."

"That'll be one hell of a payoff if the bank turns into the crater of smoking rubble you're predicting. Do you intend to sell on the news?"

"It all depends on what the FDIC does and what kind of bailout occurs. It's around $23, and I'll be happy at $10 and take the $4.5 million after borrowing costs. More, and I'll be happier still. Obviously, I can't hold past the end of June if the stock isn't canceled, given what it's costing me."

"Makes sense. Glad to be of assistance."

"Take the wife or mistress out for a nice meal on me."

"I can't afford a mistress! Wife number one made sure of that!"

"Then just bring me the receipt for you and Mrs. Steinem!"

"Nice doing business with you!"

"You come through every time, so you earn my repeat business!"

"Thanks, Jonathan. Have a good weekend."

"You, too, Joel!"

We ended the call, and I checked the trade confirmation. There were several ways things could go, and, in the end, the actions of the Feds would dictate if I rode it all the way down or closed out my position before the bottom.

I spent the rest of the day reviewing Pete's report about S&Ls and banks that were paying rates above the market and those with the riskiest loan portfolios. At some point in the not-too-distant future, we'd be shorting some of those stocks, applying our own pressure to badly managed S&Ls.

While some people might see that as predatory, the entire idea of a free market was that market forces would drive badly run companies out of business while building up well-run companies. The problem was, as Pete had correctly identified, the moral hazard created by the government insuring against losses while allowing the profits to be privatized. Unfortunately, that wasn't just true about banks — it was true about auto manufacturers, steel producers, and a host of other sectors where government bailouts were the norm.

At 5:00pm, I put all my work into my desk drawers, locked the drawers, then left the office. I had let Jack know that CeCi and I wouldn't be joining him and Kristy, so instead of meeting them, I headed for the residential elevators and rode them up to the 91st floor. I let myself into the condo and was greeted by Deanna and CeCi.

"The food will be here in about thirty minutes," Deanna said. "Why don't you check out the bedrooms?"

"I did that this morning! I love the painting in the nursery! Who?"

"One of the art students, Kassie. Well, her full name is Kassiopeia. Her grandfather is from Greece, and it's a family name. When I told her it was a nursery, she offered to paint the extra images. I actually have a release for you to sign for her so she can use photos of the works."

"Of course. Thank her for me, please."

"I was thinking we'd invite the three artists to the housewarming whenever we have it."

"That sounds good. Who are the other two?"

"Kendra and Stacey. Also, I heard from Marcus Washington at Brown Construction that the permits were issued yesterday. They'll start installing the blinds a week from Monday, and the electrical in the gallery room will be done after that."

"Excellent. The flooring will be installed the following week. That means everything will be ready to move in, assuming you'll have all the decoration done."

"Close, I think. Worst-case is by the end of April, and we could move anytime, really, because all the beds are here. And if you think about it, it might make sense for Bianca to be here with the baby. We could move enough kitchen stuff and stock the fridge so that she could come here once she delivers."

"I'll discuss that with her," I said.

"I did have one thing to ask about, and that's where the computers will go. Will they all still be in your room?"

"The problem with that is it makes it tough for others to use them. The new Japanese room is meant to be a completely quiet place, with the only electronics being a small stereo system. That means they have to be in the common living space."

"Or the space upstairs that we discussed being a play area," Deanna suggested. "At least for the first year or so, you wouldn't need it, and it's not as if there isn't sufficient space in the main living area for a play area. And with only one kid, the nursery has plenty of room, too. It would even work with two cribs, if that were somehow necessary. And they could be swapped for bunk beds."

"True," I agreed.

"I'll probably be in California before that happens," CeCi observed, "so you'll have an additional room."

"We're getting WAY ahead," I said. "One kid is all I expect for the foreseeable future. Well, unless either of you is planning on a very different future from the ones we've discussed."

"No chance!" CeCi declared. "I mean, yes, eventually, but not until I'm at least somewhat established, which I figure is around thirty, which seems right to me. And I know Dee has no particular interest in having kids."

"Then let's use that upstairs sitting room for the computers," I said. "Plan for the Macintosh, the printer, and the IBM PC. The Atari 800 will be connected to the projection TV, and I'll likely give the Apple II to someone, as we barely use it now."

"If you don't object, I'll take it," CeCi said. "I can put it in my room and use it for term papers or whatever."

"That's fine with me," I said. "Deanna, make it happen!"

The intercom buzzed, and Deanna moved to pick up the handset. She had a brief conversation and replaced the handset on the hook.

"Our food is here. The doorman is sending the delivery person up."

Three minutes later, the doorbell rang, and I answered it. I accepted the food from the young Chinese delivery boy, paid him, and then brought the food to the kitchen.

"I'm glad the chairs for the breakfast bar are here," I said. "Otherwise, we'd have to sit on the floor!"

"I bought an inexpensive set of flatware that's in the drawer, and there are napkins as well."

We set out the food and ate from paper plates, as we didn't have any dishes. When we finished eating, Deanna collected all of the containers and plates, put them in a plastic garbage bag, then dropped them into the garbage chute in the laundry room.

"What's the plan?" I asked Deanna when she returned.

"If we're going to do what I proposed, then we each have to do it each way with each other. For oral, I was thinking of a fun variation — I suck you, you lick CeCi, and she licks me. Once you cum, we rest a bit, then switch, so CeCi sucks you while you lick me, and I lick CeCi."

"That sounds fun!" CeCi declared.

"I agree," I said with a smile.

"Anal gets more complicated," Deanna said. "You do me, I do you, you do CeCi, CeCi does you, then CeCi and I do each other. We finish with you fucking CeCi, me fucking CeCi, you fucking me, then CeCi fucking me."

"That's over the top, for sure!" I chuckled. "If you and CeCi agree, I'm good with that."

"I'm in!" CeCi declared.

"Then let's repair to the boudoir," Deanna exclaimed.

The three of us went up to the master bedroom, undressed, and got into my new king-sized bed.

April 7, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

"That was crazy!" I declared when the three of us dragged ourselves out of bed on Saturday morning.

"I might have gotten a bit carried away when I was pegging you," Deanna declared.

We moved to the bathroom, and I turned on the tap in the large stall shower.

"That was VERY weird," I said as we got into the shower. "That first time, you were slow and gentle; last night you fucked me."

"And?"

"My opinion is still the same — I did it because you wanted to, not because it turned me on. Do you like it?"

"I consider it a fair trade for the thrill of doing you that way," Deanna said. "But we don't have to do this again. CeCi?"

"Same. Doing Jonathan gives me a sense of power and control, but him doing me is just weird, not exciting."

"Then I think we declare this experiment complete," I said. "That is NOT to say we didn't need to have an over-the-top christening of the bed!"

"Changing subjects, when do we want to have the housewarming?" Deanna asked. "Memorial Day is out because we're having the party at the house."

"What about the second Sunday in May? That's two weeks before Memorial Day, and everything will be in place by then."

"Whom do we invite?"

"I think the basic guest list should be the same as the one we used when we moved to the house on Morse, plus new friends and the art students, of course. Actually, before we confirm the date, make sure Natasha can attend. I want her to hear what I'm sure will be positive responses to her interior design work."

"I'll put together a list," Deanna said. "I know normally Bianca would do this stuff, but she's going to be a bit preoccupied any day now!"

"That's an understatement if there ever was one!" CeCi declared. "I'll help, Dee."

"Thank you both!"

"I'll take your suits home," Deanna said. "I'm doing the grocery shopping with Jack and Kristy today, and we'll drop off your suits and shirts at the dry cleaner."