Chapter 9

Things got resolved in Eugene. Not just seeing those I missed and who missed me, including the blonde haired, blue eyed petite former waif Mila and her lesbian girlfriend Gail whom I stayed with a few nights. And Dotty of course, who gave me the guest room of their former drug house the rest of the time. And Kenneth, who came down a few days after I arrived.

But also the case of Julio and the Whitemans. Kenneth, Dotty, Tommy and Trish, Tommy’s step cousin and future bearer of his child, gathered with me at the Eugene PI office listening to the speakerphone, to Special Agent Drew Jones, “It seems the Whitemans had an accident. An explosion of a yacht. It’s suspected to have been bad timing, with the yacht’s owner being the intended victim.”

“Rodrigo Ramirez,” I guessed.

“Don’t tell me why you know that,” Drew sighed.

“And whores?” I asked.

“Four of them. I don’t suppose you know them.”

“And Julio?” I asked, not answering his question.

“With Kenneth’s research and a tape sent anonymously from Hawaii, we’re certain it had been Jason who killed his wife. Typical intensifying of psychotic behavior. But the boat ... a lot of deaths.”

“Sounds like it,” I said carefully.

“It makes me uncomfortable.”

“I can imagine,” I offered.

After a long pause, Dotty asked, “Do you know of anyone challenging your decision about Jason?”

“A couple of Whiteman women called us. Mother and daughter. We assured both we had plenty of proof, both historical and circumstantial, that he did it.”

“The gun?” I surmised.

“William Whitman’s. Only Julio’s prints on the gun, but partials of Jason’s on the bullets and full ones on the drawer in which it had been stashed. And the ligature marks matched those we were able to attain from the clinic where Jason’s other victims had been patched up and paid off. The weird thing was the different reactions from the Whiteman women. The young one reacted angrily. Her mother ... sounded much more resigned. Maybe even relieved.”

I saw Dotty nod. “The mother and I had a long talk,” she told us. “To tell you the truth, we got sloshed. She seemed like a tense woman. Hardly able to make eye contact. But I sensed she relaxed more than she normally did around me. And getting drunk loosened her. She never said anything specific, but her attitude to her husband, and more surprisingly her youngest son, suggested she had lost any fondness for both of them. No words of confirmation, but looks, and the slightest of nods...”

Not long after that I got a call from Sandy. “You won’t believe this, Joe,” she said, “But the Whitemans paid. Paid everything.”

“You’re kidding,” I said. “Who signed the check?”

“The check’s coming, but a woman called. Patricia Whiteman.”

“The mother,” I said.

“Yeah. Weird, hunh?”

“Like father, like son,” I muttered.

I talked to Kenneth about it and he nodded. “It was her money that funded their business,” he said.

I decided to call the woman.

“Hello,” she said softly.

“This is Joe Solomon,” I told her.

“I called your partner.”

“I heard. It was ... unexpected.”

I heard a forced chuckle. “I suppose it would be.”

“Why?”

She sniffled. “I wanted to stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Everything.”

“Your husband’s pursuit of Kyle?”

“Everything. Just ... everything.”

“How bad was your husband?”

“He was like Jason except worse. Smarter. Smoother. He had me convinced until he took over my family’s business and his true nature could come out. His cruelty. His manipulations. He’d always been dominate. It had always been our relationship. But, when it suited him, it became much more real. He exploited me, all my weaknesses and my strengths. Because I always did have all the business savvy in my company. He’d be the one to schmooze, and I’d be the one who put things in place.

“He flaunted my weakness, made my children disrespect me because of it. I saw them embrace the cruelty and the power it represented. Even my daughter. It tested a mother’s love until it broke.”

“But ... losing your children ... even with...”

“I know. I blame my husband for it. No one else. I blame him for Jason, his cruelty and predatory ways. Emily ... she was a breath of fresh air in this oppressive house. And Kyle ... Such a sweet, brilliant man. I bonded with both of them. But I was afraid for them, Emily especially. But I’m so ... weak.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. You seemed to have lost everyone except Jeanne.”

“I probably lost Jeanne years ago, but I haven’t lost everyone.”

“But ... I thought...”

“One other son besides Jason died on that boat. I still have my oldest. In fact he’s here, he and his wife and three children. He’d always been the least cruel, and he apologized for that cruelty. His wife always treated me well, and I think she suspected things, enough to have been a source of arguments between them. He moved here to take over my company, actually capable of taking on both his parents’ work.”

“I’d like to meet you,” I said.

“Why?”

“I heard you and Dotty bonded.”

She chuckled. “I guess we did. It was the closest I got to letting go of all those terrible secrets. But I guess Bill trained me too well.”

“Despite everything, they’re family,” I reminded her.

“Bill probably depended on that,” she agreed.

“Dotty’s getting married.”

“She is?”

“Come celebrate. You two could tie one on again.”

“That might be fun. But I haven’t been invited.”

I told Dotty the problem and handed her the phone. I had been walking with it through her lovely house and had ended up sitting beside her on their couch.

“You’re invited,” she told Patricia and gave her the details.

The wedding ended up being small and perfunctory. A judge and the bride and groom’s immediate family at city hall. Only father and younger sister on Dottie’s side. And me.

“You’re everything else: colleague, mentor, friend, ex-lover,” she explained. “You may as well be family.”

“I represent Vy,” I said.

“Most of all,” she said. We embraced, teared up and sniffled. She chuckled, “Although she’d probably be talking me out of it.”

“Probably,” I replied, returning her chuckle.

Even less traditional than a full-blown wedding, after the ceremony, the younger of us walked the five blocks to the small park hosting the reception. Tommy handed off the tux jacket and the turquoise bolo tie to his father, loosening the top button of his white button down shirt. He wore casual black slacks. Dottie’s dress, created for the event by a friend, traditional white and somehow suggestive of a wedding dress, seemed more of a sexy light sundress once the setting had been removed. Friends along the way tossed birdseed on the newlyweds and joined the parade.

Being the Northwest, prone to rain, there had been contingencies. Umbrellas would be available. Catered food, set up banquet style, had a small park building available to house it. And the park had a bandshell which would protect the musicians from the elements. But threatening clouds seemed to break up at the conclusion of the wedding, creating a spectacular ray of sun, like a great spotlight following the newlyweds and their followers to the park. And the skies got clearer. Perfect weather, only cooling in the evening.

A very long table had been brought in piece by piece in front of the bandstand. Concerts or plays always required bringing one’s own lawn chair or whatever. A string quartet, friends of Dotty, played, but not on stage. We didn’t want to lure others into our gathering. Not yet.

Once eating and toasting ended, and bride and groom danced the first dance to an old waltz, the table was removed and the chairs rearranged. Having musicians and roadies there used to hauling things made the table’s disappearance quick. I helped.

The first band, more friends, had been setting up on the bandshell during the dinner. Something like the Pogues or my native state’s Trampled By Turtles would sound like, their instruments suggested old school, bluegrass in their instance, but their songs tended to be a lot more aggressive.

Other bands followed. It became a mini free festival of local music, wandering visitors to the park creating an ever growing audience to this unannounced event. A couple of outside bands consisting of Dotty’s friends of course made it not exclusively local. ER took the stage in the middle of the festival.

I had seen ER the night before for an unusual (of course) version of bachelor and bachelorette parties, so I knew they were as good as expected, meaning great. They actually opened for a touring one hit wonder band who had lost their luster and fan base years before. It made me wonder if they would give it up when most of the audience left after ER’s great show.

Ladies and gentlemen split in two after ER played their set at the club. It made me laugh when Dotty and her friends, mostly lesbian, ended up being the ones going to a strip club. The men took over the couple’s house, and a friend of Tommy’s, a jock who had made it into the big leagues, rented four strippers/escorts. The police contingent turned a blind eye. Most even partook, including the Chief of Police. I looked to Tommy, who shrugged. He told me his parents always had one aspect that threatened the well-being of their marriage, the Chief’s wandering eye, and cock. He figured his mom decided to turn a blind eye to it. According to Tommy, with the naked escorts concentrating on giving him naked lap dances, he only got a blow job to relieve his blue balls. I wasn’t so circumspect, and after having a little interview with each of the pretty ladies while they danced on my lap, found out who liked pussy. She ended up being the hottest, a fiery redhead. Choosing the quietest, a pretty brunette, I bought myself a threesome.

I sucked the red fringed pussy while she sucked her colleague. Once the redhead had a slickened and excited pussy, I gloved up and fucked her doggy style. After cumming, at least me, they got me hard again together and rode my mouth and my cock, the brunette getting the latter. It lasted long enough for both to cum. It sounded convincing. I finished after turning over the brunette and fucking her hard while her colleague helped pleasure her with mouth at nipple and finger strumming clit. It was the finale of the evening. One of the other girls tapped at my door, signaling their intent to leave the party.

I thought about asking one or both to come back, but didn’t really find them interesting beyond their attractive bodies. None of the four seemed all that clever. Perhaps after the whores and ex-whores I had been with recently, some extremely dangerous, some brilliant, all interesting, I had become jaded. But I think it had to do with them having average American minds. It made me think about the maxim that men paid whores to leave as much as to fuck, so they didn’t have to deal with them after getting what they wanted.

While no bonding happened with me, except getting to know Tommy more and in a different and unique situation, Patricia Whiteman, who had come down the day before and thus could join the ladies, ended up finding the company of lesbians a lot more appealing than she expected. The older lesbian couple who had housed Trish, risking their relationship, had invited a friend from Seattle who had just lost her long term mate to cancer. When the Eugene couple asked Dotty via Trish if this person could be invited, Dotty thought it a great idea. Shared tragedy begat love between the two older Washington natives.

Speaking of unexpected results, a decision had been made without my input. I planned to stay with Mila and Gail after the reception/festival. So did Kenneth and his Amazonian wife Sandra. But the ones occupying the home couple’s bed and the ones occupying the guest room surprised me.

When we got to the condo, a little drunk, a little windblown, a little tired, and a lot happy about the great festival we had just left, I found myself pulled to the guest room by Sandra. She embraced and kissed me as soon as we entered it.

“What’s going on?” I asked after the kiss.

“Do you not want me?” She worried. Being a big girl had not helped her self-image until she met her horny and loving husband.

“Of course I want you,” I said.

“Good,” she smiled and knelt and opened my pants, extracting my flaccid penis.

“But ... Kenneth...” I moaned.

“He gets Mila,” she said between mouths full.

“Is this... ?”

“No,” she insisted, gently luring me to the bed. She got rid of my shoes and socks and my pants and boxers, returning enthusiastically to her task of making me hard, and succeeding.

I made her pause, unzipping her dress and pulling it over her head, revealing thick curves beneath covered in bra and panties. The bra soon left her body. The panties when she crawled over me on the bed, while I stripped off the rest of my clothing. She straddled my face. I pulled her sizable butt down, her thick thighs beside my head, and brought my tongue to bear on her pussy, smaller than expected, but not Sonya size, and delicious. I could taste her desire leaking from her. She’d been looking forward to this.

Because of her anticipation, she came first. Turning around, she aimed my cock inside her.

“Condom?” I warned.

“I’m clean and want you naked,” she moaned as I carved out space in her narrow slit.

“Safe?”

“We ... want a baby...”

“Mine?” I reminded her.

“We don’t care. His sperm hasn’t taken yet.”

“Are you ovulating?”

“Yes,” she moaned. I took control of her firm yet bouncing breasts. Brought a nipple to my mouth. My finger found hers stroking her clit. I left her to it and used both hands and mouth to work on her breasts. And then just hands when we kissed and kept kissing until I came.

It didn’t end there. I took the top position in another sixty-nine until she had me hard again. She neared cumming when I turned around and thrust inside. A few hard strokes later she did cum. I slowed things down after that, until she demanded me to go faster. After another orgasm, I went slow again. Slow and fast for a long time, until fast became ultra-fast as I felt the pressure in my balls expecting their release. I kept fucking her through the ejaculations until she reached her highest ecstasy of the night. I managed to land on my side beside her before passing out.

I awoke much later, the sun streaming into the room. She smiled down at me, stroking my body. “More?” I smiled back.

“Breakfast’s ready, sleepy head.”

She laughed at my reaction, and I’m certain it pleased her. A soft kiss on a mouth probably with morning breath made it short and closed lipped, ending our time together. I watched her big ass under her robe as she left me for my ablutions and dressing. I made it quick, but needed the shower. I decided boxers would be enough with the intimacy I shared with everyone in the condo.

We made an easy day of it. Two days and nights of partying had taken its toll. Mila beside me, sometimes on my lap, made it clear her time with Kenneth had been completed. No one, not even Gail, minded. I would be leaving the following morning, and Mila wanted as much time with her hero/lover as possible before I left her for another unknown amount of time.

We went to Dotty’s and Tommy’s place for a late dinner. Mostly it was the PI contingent, a much smaller gathering. Trish provided dinner, and could cook surprisingly well. A simple meatloaf, but it tasted as good as any I’ve had.

My gift for the couple had been a trip to Hawaii. They would take the same plane I would. I suspected they expected it, since they had no other plans for a honeymoon. I added to it, calling Julie’s mother to get permission to use her ex’s cabin in Maui for my blonde friend and her tall, handsome, native American husband. Dotty gave me a hot kiss when I described it to them. Tommy shrugged.

After another night with Mila and Gail, and a tearful goodbye from my petite and beautiful friend, I flew off with the newlyweds. We changed planes in San Francisco, and a familiar woman ended up being our stewardess. I had to ask Millicent if she’d ever joined the mile high club. She told me she couldn’t push her luck. We did manage a quick conversation between her duties, and I let her know about the fate of Julie and Julio. She looked a little disappointed but mostly happy for them. Before disembarking the plane, she managed to slip me her phone number. I used it a few times over the years, and she used mine. She was a simple, uncomplicated woman and cute. I enjoyed all those things about her.

A few months after I got home from the Whiteman case and Dotty’s wedding, Sandy and I received a visitor in our office. Jeanne. I don’t know how she got her gun. She aimed at me. I ducked and Sandy shot her. Jeanne didn’t even get a shot, having never taken the safety off. Sandy had been trained to shoot at center mass. Her aim proved deadly.

Sonya called me a few times, the first when I was in Eugene. She apologized for not being able to attend Dotty’s wedding, needing to run things her excuse.

“Delegate!” I reminded her.

“Yes Master,” she surprisingly replied.

Other calls from her were like confessionals, some involving scary deeds, but most involving running things. They often followed arguments with her partner, Bonnie. They usually got along and did rely on each other to talk about things they couldn’t with anyone else. Her most upset call came when she found out Bonnie had become pregnant again. I guess my relationship most resembled her sister’s then.

“Her children are staying with you,” I reminded her.

“Yes. And the other babies.”

“Hers are amazing.”

“They are.”

“And you will help raise her new one from birth to make the child even more amazing.”

“Yes.”

“And when Bonnie grumbles about the sacrifice it makes on her body...”

“I can remind her I would do anything to take her place. Thank you Master.”

She ended up being the only other one visiting my office from the Whiteman case after it concluded. She came in smiling showing me a bag of peyote. I asked if she brought the ancient aphrodisiac and she rattled a pill bottle holding little blue pills.

“And yours?” I asked.

“Your beautiful cock and your beautiful mind,” she admitted.

I looked at Sandy who smirked. “She asked permission for a weekend with you. I gave her a week.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I talked to Julie’s mother.”

“The Maui cabin? What about work?”

“Do you have any now?”

I laughed. “Sneaky bitch.”

“Go, stud.”

“Yes Mistress.”

The ladies chuckled.

I swung by Da Kine Bras to pick up a bag of buds before we headed to Maui.

We rarely left the cabin. The large refrigerator and freezer had been well stocked with delicious meals. I didn’t even need the little blue pills all that often, though Sonya liked it when I took them. “It makes you harder,” she explained. Despite all the fucking, her amazingly tight pussy never seemed to get any less tight. Even so, it remained resilient. Probably from her endless supply of natural lubricant her pussy always seemed to manage to create.

It was a week of fucking. A week of getting wasted. A week of hallucinations. When her peyote supply ran out, I visited someone I knew on Maui who had mushrooms. And a week of conversations. Some stoned crazy. Most getting to know each other to a depth of intimacy I had rarely experiences and I don’t think she ever had.

It ended of course. One would think a week of it would be enough. And to tell the truth, I wanted to get back to work, even if it meant no longer fucking that incredible pussy, that incredible woman.

Not so for Sonya. She cried. When we left the cabin. At the Honolulu airport.

There, during the ending embrace, she told me one of the few things she hadn’t that week. “Julio and Bon Bon are getting married.”

“When?”

“Mid-June. After her baby is born. And a month or so after to recover for the honeymoon.”

“I’ll be there,” I said.

She showed me her sad smile. Her teary eyes. Her beauty. “Joy will too,” she said.

“And Julio and Bonnie will want to be alone. What do you want me to do?”

“Whatever you want, Master.”

“I told you I preferred you.”

“She’s changed.”

“What do you mean?”

“I never liked her. Hated her actually. Stupid jealousy with my asshole husband. The residue of it after his demise. But ... she became a partner. Silent. Junior doesn’t even know. Enough whores running things.”

“You’re not a whore,” I reminded her.

“I was bought, Joe. And I actually am now. I play dominant. Make them tongue my asshole. Various flavored lubricants. And I’m sure they can taste my own dripping from my pussy, which I cover with a custom made sort of chastity belt with a small vibrator and my clit exposed.”

I looked around for audience and realized she managed to steer me to a place away from others. She also kept her voice down.

“I tell them they don’t deserve my tight cunt,” she explained. “They can only have my asshole.”

“But I couldn’t.”

She giggled. “Only assholes get my asshole. My whore hole.” More seriously, she continued, “For a while only Bon Bon talked to Joy. Got advice from her. Sort of like the way Joy had communicated through her now husband to advise her father’s company. I heard her advice through Bon Bon, and asked questions through her. Bon Bon must have told her of my conversations with you, and became a liaison in that regard as well. I guess that made me jealous all over again, that Joy cared about you.

“She called me because of the jealousy. The first thing she said was for me not to hang up on her. For me to listen to her. It didn’t help when she told me she understood my attraction to you. That you had a way of worming into the hardest of hearts. She practically screamed no into my ear when I growled that you told me you preferred me and she wanted to take you from me. Absurd I know, since neither of us can really have you, can we? An occasional conversation. A rare fuckathon. If I could pack you in a bag and take you home with me I would. I can’t. But it’s what I said and I meant it.