Chapter 7: Love Letters

Immediately on our return to Colorado, I tried to follow the instructions Uncle Bert had given me through the nun in Santa Fe. I guess I was surprised he had used a nun. I did not think about it at the time, but she was probably the only woman he ever met he did not try to boink. Then, maybe he did. I thought the third house was Aspen since Uncle Bert bought it after he bought the two ranch houses. I spent four days tearing the place apart. Nothing. Then, I went back and checked the legal records in the court house. One of the ranch houses was bought in Mary’s name. The third house had to be Vail.

His Vail house (my Vail house now) was a freestanding residence with a glorious view of the Gore Range overlooking the original Vail Village and facing the ski slopes. It was about twenty four hundred square feet. I searched high and low, finding nothing. I tried to think like Uncle Bert would have thought.

Love Letters. Lower Level. It was the kind of word game that would appeal to Uncle Bert. In the basement, I searched throughly, even taking down the ceiling tiles, before I realized the fireplace did not appear to be as big as the space it occupied.

Uncle Bert and I had explored an old castle one summer in Europe when I was eleven. It was the kind of castle Hollywood puts in every pictures, with turrets and towers and secret hiding places. That castle had a secret hiding place in the fireplace capable of holding the royal family if they were threatened by danger. My hiding place would be much smaller. It took me two hours of pushing, pulling and trying, but then a brick moved. Then another moved, leaving me space to put my hand in there. When I found a latch and pulled it, the facing came off in my hand. There was a box inside. It contained love letters and the second volume of his notebooks. Of course, the notebooks were an essential part of the treasure hunt but the letters were more interesting.

About forty women had written him, or, at least, he had saved the letters of forty women. Some were really steamy. As I poured through them, my cock getting hard from reading and my ass getting sore from sitting, I wondered how many of these women I would meet. Knowing Uncle Bert, I would find an index that cross referenced these letters to a detailed list complete with addresses. Now, I was reading just for fun. I probably should not tell you what they said, but I am sure Uncle Bert is laughing like crazy as he looks down on us enjoying these love letters.

So, here are a few excerpts:

“My darling, My cunt aches for your big prick sawing in and out of me, stroking against my rigid button as I scream under you. How I miss that horse cock between your legs plundering my poor pussy. How I miss your weight slamming me into the mattress as I scream for you to fuck me harder. Oh, Bert, how could I have been so stupid as to tell you no. I will do anything, darling, anything. Please give me another chance to please you. Call me, Bert. I beg you. I will love you forever. Ann”

Then, there was: “Migod Bert, I can’t stop thinking about it. I felt so powerless, so feminine, so wonderfully helpless and submissive as you held me upside down over the edge of the cliff, the wind blowing on my naked body, your face buried in my pussy, your hungry mouth lapping away, the bridge of your nose caressing my clit. I have never come like that. I can still hear my shrieks echoing off the canyon walls. Just call me, baby, anytime you get a wild hair. I am always ready for you. Love always. Bunny.”

Uncle Bert did not care if the women he fucked were married, as he had explained when he gave me the message through Andy. One letter, in particular, proved that.

“Bert, my love. I have told my husband about us. I told him I would stay with him, always appearing to be his loyal wife. I told him I would love him forever, and, I will. But, I made it clear. When you want me, you can have me. He will have to live with that. I want you to fuck me, Bert. I want you to come fuck me in the big brass bed I share with my husband. Tie my arms to the railings and fuck me until I die. Hurry, Bert. I throb for you. Since he knows now, you can call anytime. Love forever. Stella. PS, Marvin wants to know if he can watch.”

And, last, but not least.

“Master, your slave awaits your pleasure. I wish again to feel your lash on my tender skin as the ropes hold me motionless, helpless for you. My surrender is complete, master. My submission total. I need my master to direct me, to guide me. I am lost without you. Forever your slave. Mary.”

I wondered if it was my Mary, the Mary he left me, who enjoyed her bondage so much. I would find out.

The letter from Anna was only semi-steamy. That was because it was written by Uncle Bert in code for me to find and the steaminess was only a cover for the contents. In fact, I wondered if he wrote it steamy and then encoded, or visa versa.

In my seventh summer, Uncle Bert and I created a code. Besides being fun, it was a tool he used to teach me some higher math. I had not thought of it in years but suddenly it was clear and correct in my mind. I assumed that was the result of the programming Andy gave me, allowing me to have almost perfect long-term and short-term memory recall.

As I sat on the floor of the basement, I decoded the letter. It gave me the base formula for the potion. Unfortunately, two of the compounds were government controlled and another was extremely rare and expensive. What was not included was the next clue.

Three months had passed. I was not sure where I was in finding the solution.

I jumped in the Bronco, and headed west through the Little Grand Canyon, as it is called, to Glenwood Springs and the ranch house. Andy greeted me with a huge smile, a wet kiss and by jamming that marvelous body against mine. I was really falling in love with Andy. She was very smart, funny, and, personable. Being twenty-two, I had not even thought about those traits after I saw that body. Then, I just wanted to fuck her until my cock fell off from overuse. But, now that I was well fucked, my thoughts could focus on non physical attributes. Andy had as many of those as she did physical attributes.

Of course, most importantly, she loved me beyond belief. I wondered how much of that was programming and how much was me. I have talked to guys who were very wealthy. Some of them lamented they never knew if it was them or the money that attracted women. I know how they felt. Was it me or the programming? It does not make any difference in the woman’s performance. But, it makes a difference in how I feel about it.

I did not ignore Mary. It seemed so strange that I could be fucking one of them, mother or daughter, and, the other would be peacefully watching us, waiting her turn. But, quickly, I learned to love it. There was never any jealousy or animosity between them over me. Programming women is a magnificent idea. They are such wonderful, delightful creatures. With a few simple mind modifications, they are perfect.