Chapter 1: The Rut

The sun had not yet broken the horizon and Thomas was already sitting at the kitchen table pouring over numbers. He had the financial sections of the Wall Street Journal, the New York Times, and the Washington Post spread across the table. His notebooks, colored pens, and a calculator all sat within easy reach. A half-filled coffee cup completed the table’s contents.

It was early September and the temperatures were still balmy, not quite jacket weather. Almost every day for the previous two years, since Thomas had restarted his life in the 80s, he would go for a run first thing in the morning. More recently, he found himself sitting at the kitchen table every morning analyzing stock prices and planning his next move. His knowledge of the future netted him a sizable nest egg by betting on a one-in-a-million baseball game at a casino the previous year. He parlayed that money into stocks he knew would rise very quickly and he was now worth almost ten million dollars. His goal was to turn that ten million into a billion between investments in stocks that would skyrocket in the 90s and purchasing land that would become the new development hot-spot in the next decade.

“Again?” said a sleepy Denise as she plodded into the kitchen. “You’ve gotten up early for the last four days. Do your numbers really change that much each day?”

Thomas wanted to explain that in several years people would make a career out of buying and selling stocks in one day, or even in a matter of minutes or seconds. Instead, he simply said, “Not really, but once I see a trend I need to be ready to move. If my stocks slump I sell, while I will buy stocks that begin to rise from a low point.”

Denise realized the coffee pot was empty and groaned.

“Oh, sorry,” said Thomas. He quickly rose from the table and said, “Sit. I’ll make a fresh pot.”

Denise sat at the table and looked at the colorful sheets of paper in the notebook. “Are these highlighted companies the ones you want to buy into? They are going to be the biggies of the 90s?”

Denise was Thomas’ crush the first time through the 80s. On his second trip they started a relationship, saw it blow up spectacularly, then they got back together. They were now a happy couple living together in his mom’s old house after she moved in with her new husband.

Thomas poured water into the reservoir and nodded. Denise was the only person he told his full story. It was how she knew there was going to be a spike in stock prices for some companies. He calmly explained, “Yes. Some will skyrocket well into the three digit range, then flame out just as fast. I want to ride a few of those to the top, sell the stocks, then make a play on two or three that will become the next round of stalwarts. They will be the ones to set the standard for the next few decades.”

Thomas took a clean mug from the cabinet and retrieved his from the table. When the coffee maker finally gurgled the last of the water into the carafe, he poured two cups and returned to the table.

He stared at his page of numbers absentmindedly while sipping his coffee.

Denise dipped her head back over her chair back and shook her hair. Her light t-shirt strained across her chest and her breasts jiggled with the movement. Thomas did not notice. Denise moaned softly. Thomas still did not look up from his papers. She leaned even further back and moaned louder, kicking the table leg with her foot.

“Are you OK,” Thomas asked without looking up from his latest calculation. When she did not reply he finally looked in her direction.

“Oh, shit,” he said with a crestfallen voice. Denise saw a range emotions flit across his face. He finally voiced what she had suspected he felt. “I am turning into my fifty-something self, aren’t I?”

Before Denise could reply he added, almost rhetorically, “We have been going to bed by 9:30 or 10:00 every night, sex is maybe once each week or two, and then when we do have sex, it is missionary and over. Most mornings I am up before dawn reading newspapers and pouring over financial reports.”

When Denise did not respond he kept going, “I mean, we should be out partying. Getting up at 10:00 in the morning should be a challenge after a riotous night of drinking and dancing.”

Denise finally waved him down. “Whoa, not quite that far, big guy. Stand up.”

Thomas stood and let Denise rotate him to face her. She pulled down his shorts and boxers and took him in her mouth. He quickly hardened and moaned as she held his shaft at the base and licked the tip of his dick. He was fully engorged and covered in her spit. Denise stood, dropped her panties, raised her t-shirt, then leaned onto the counter.

“Take me,” was all she said.

Thomas entered her and slowly started to move his hips.

“Harder!” commanded Denise.

The pace increased a little.

“Harder!” she yelled again. “Come on, Thomas, fuck me!”

Thomas started to buck against Denise. He pushed in and out with gusto. It did not take long for him to reach his breaking point. He suddenly slowed and reached around Denise to stimulate her clit in order to pleasure her before his release. Denise realized his intention and yelled. “Don’t stop. Fuck me harder. Cum in me now!”

Thomas returned to his previous pace and quickly emptied his load. She fell forward against the counter and sighed contentedly. When Thomas stepped back she turned and put her arms around his neck. She kissed him deeply, using her tongue to tease his mouth.

“Let’s go for a morning run, then you can have me again in the shower,” she purred between kisses. “Men in a mid-life crisis don’t fuck in the kitchen before sunrise, then run three miles, then do it again in the shower, do they?”

Thomas sported his goofy high school grin. Denise had a knack for getting him out of his funks by either sex or blunt talk. He was glad today was the former option.

They dressed in their exercise clothes and started on their three-mile loop. They waved to Mrs. Willow as they passed. She was in her garden pulling weeds. She would say it was to get it done before the sun rose but they knew she had a new gentleman caller and she wanted to make everything look perfect before he came over. Mrs. Willow was someone else who was good at getting Thomas out of funks. Also by sex. They were each others’ muse the previous year. She helped Thomas after he split with Denise and Lisa on the same day. He was hers after she mourned the passing of her husband.