Chapter 23: New Royal Couple

Carrie said, “What could we do about Emma? She really wants to be with us all the time.” I could tell she’d been brooding about her sister since Em returned to the U.K. a week earlier after a teary departure from our bed.

Marjorie laughed, “She could marry Doug or Jerry...”

I raised an eyebrow at that. I wasn’t sure that either of them was ready to tie the knot with anybody, regardless of their situation.

Marjorie continued, “ ... or maybe we could get one of the single guys in the swinger’s group to take her on as a wife and solve her visa problem. Hey, wait, why don’t I move to a state that allows lesbians to marry, and I’ll marry her. God, I could eat her pussy all day long as it is.”

This time both Carrie and I looked askance at Marjorie.

I said, “If you’re serious – and Emma wants to be here, why doesn’t she just apply for a visa. I think they give out several thousand a year to U.K. citizens who want to migrate here. I know two of the requirements are they have some money and can show they’ll contribute to society in some way. If she had a statement from a bank or someone important that would support her case ... of course, she’s important in her own right.”

Marjorie adopted a serious tone, “If she leaves the U.K. she’ll be condemned and scorned by her countrymen. One sister leaving is one thing, but two; that’d break the camel’s back. The rest of your family would have a fit all around.”

Carrie nodded, “I know, that’s why I’m trying to think of some way to resolve this.”

We temporarily set the ‘What to do about Emma’ issue aside, but having learned how Carrie thought, I knew we’d be coming back to it until we could find some resolution.

The three of us spent Thanksgiving with my parents in Ohio. While there we played tourist and went to the huge exhibition at the National Museum of the U.S. Air Force outside Columbus. Carrie was fascinated. She was also recognized, but we handled it politely by refusing autographs and selfies lest we start a stampede.

For Christmas, we went to Marjorie’s parent’s home in Syracuse. Our first night there the whole area got eight inches of lake-effect snow. We had fun making snow angels and throwing snowballs at each other. THAT MUCH snow was a rarity for Carrie who’d mostly grown up in and around London. She’d had been skiing in the Alps when living in Europe, I then remembered.

To give Carrie a taste of driving in snow, the next day I took her to an empty church parking lot and taught her about steering into a skid, the poor braking action, and how to take turns on slippery roads. Later in the winter when Maryland got some snow, she praised my foresight in teaching her how to cope with the white stuff.

My brother came and went a few times at our home over the winter. He’d taken over some new job responsibilities for the consulting firm he worked with, and one of his clients was on the beltway.

Jerry, of course, was a regular visitor, too. Every time he came to the house, he did a circuit assessing our progress in installing vastly improved home security systems. Gradually, most of his recommendations got implemented. Marjorie and I were glad, and Carrie was resigned to a necessary evil that frustrated her attempt to be ‘normal’. Jerry reminded us that she was still an attractive target for mischief.

Emma came and visited us for New Years. Our swinger friends held a party that eve, so we all brought the New Year in with a ‘bang’. This time, Carrie opted to be a ‘Super Slut,’ as she called it. She got eleven guys to share their cocks with her during the evening, expanding the number of men she’d had sex with during her lifetime to sixteen. She made a point to at least learn each of her fuck buddies first names. She explained that I had the privileged position of Number One on her list. I appreciated the veneration.

Emma spent two weeks with us, and much of the time outside work hours was in bed with Marjorie, her sister, or me – or all of us. I started to believe her when she described herself as a newly minted bisexual nymphomaniac. Jerry helped out on quite a few occasions too, and Doug went out of his way to attend to her, too.

In March, a week after Emma returned to England, Doug came by for two nights while he spent his days at his Beltway client. The last night of his stay, he blew us away with his plans for the next two or three years, and maybe longer.

Doug said, “My consulting firm has asked me to relocate to London and help set up an office in the U.K. I have to help hire some local staff over there, and even find an office head, and then I’ll probably be coming home to the U.S. They want me over there at least for three years, and possibly four or more.”