Tom's Diary
Copyright© 2003 by Gina Marie Wylie
Chapter 19
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 19 - Tom Ferguson is a high school junior who's coming of age experience is a plethora of girls, women and challenges.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft Ma/ft mt/Fa Fa/Fa ft/ft Fa/ft Mult Teenagers Consensual Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Daughter Cousins Orgy Interracial Black Female White Male First Oral Sex Anal Sex Petting
Tuesday, April 2, 2002
There was faint light in the windows and Elizabeth was sitting on the biggest boner of my life. I watched her rub her own breasts while I stroked her clit; above all, I moved in and out of her until she came and then came again. I spent myself into her, before pulling her down to cradle those beautiful breasts against my chest, her nipples crushed against mine.
To say that getting out of bed was difficult is to say the sun is bright at high noon. But we did, spending a fair amount of time showering, then kissing with no intention of making love; as fine a form of kissing as there is.
We had breakfast with everyone; it was relaxed and cheerful, even if shortly we would be leaving for Bill's memorial service. Mary had told us that no one had to go; she'd prefer it, really if no one went. I wanted to anyway, if nothing else to just be there with my friends during something that wasn't going to be easy for them.
I'd never been to a memorial service before. It was, blessedly brief. No one had much to say, beyond a few trite phrases, except for Elizabeth. She stood up, walked forward and faced the dozen or so people gathered.
"My father was a man; human in his failings. He made some bad mistakes in the last few weeks of his life, but he was my father and I loved him. He paid for his mistakes with his life; they weren't the sort of mistakes that should merit such a terrible punishment. My father was lost, unable to see that in his family, he had those that could understand and forgive him. I understand, and I forgive him."
She sat back down, no one else spoke. We were all quiet on the way back to the hotel. Mary wanted to be alone; Shannon wanted to find JR and put it all behind her.
Elizabeth? The first few times I'd first met Elizabeth she had been pretty much expressionless. Only on the day she'd had her heart attack had there been much expression on her face; she had shown more since then. After the memorial service her face had gone back to stone, but she stayed a few feet away from me, even if all I was doing was reading while she stared into space.
We had a late lunch and things were better, more like they'd been. We talked about all sorts of things over the food, music tastes mostly. Elizabeth was sitting with Jenny, looking more cheerful, and by the end of the meal, was as bright as she'd been the last few days.
After lunch, Jenny went to visit Katrina, Dad doing the driving and explaining. A bit after that Mom vanished, telling me that Uncle Craig had arrived, and that she was going to fetch him from the airport. JR and Shannon went down to the hotel pool, taking Elizabeth with them. Mary and I followed them after a few minutes, sitting on the pool deck under an umbrella talking about a million things, none of them important.
Around four, Mom was back with Uncle Craig, Dad and Jenny were back; we all got together in the living room of one of the suites.
"A lot going on," Dad said. "About an hour ago, I got a call from Bill Carstairs." Dad walked over, took Jenny's hand. "There's no good way to tell you, Jennifer. Earlier today your brother went totally nuts; charged a half dozen of the jail deputies. They tried to get him under control, but he stuck a hypodermic needle into a man's throat. I'm sorry, really sorry, Jennifer. He's dead."
"I'm not sorry," Jenny said, shaking her head. "Not sorry at all; I wished to God he hadn't hurt someone again. Sam has hurt enough people. The thought of him never being able to do it again makes me want to applaud."
"The deputy is in the hospital, he's expected to be released later this evening. The lawyer says the things Sam has been charged with are now moot. Most likely, no testimony required from anyone.
"In addition, the police have traced the woman who killed Bill Leary to Kansas; she got away before they could catch up with her. They think she's trying to get to Canada." Dad looked at Mary. "They told him that there is little chance of any recovery of the money she stole from you."
Elizabeth spoke, "She killed my dad; I don't care what happens to her, so long as it's bad. The money isn't that important."
Dad walked over, sat down next to Elizabeth. "I'm not part of the gang of four." Elizabeth smiled slightly, her eyes tracking over Mary, Shannon and Jenny. "Elizabeth, I know it hurts, but you have to know, what's not important to you, might be important to Mary or Shannon."
Elizabeth looked him in the eye. "Money is a tool, like a hammer. Except, unlike a hammer, you need that tool to get by every day. We can get by with what Mom makes. No matter how much you and Tom want to help, you shouldn't try to take that away from Mom. Mom has a ways to go yet, to blossom again, but she will. And then..." Elizabeth smiled wanly. "Then is then. Things will be different."
"Suppose you're wrong?" Shannon asked. "I thought all this mystical shit would go away when..."
"When I was no longer a virgin?" Elizabeth completed the thought. "Shannon, I've lived a long time seeing things; mostly they didn't make any sense. Now, I have more context. There's a whole lot more, Shannon. Not mine to tell, I think I've told too much already. I love my family and the people around me; I can't stop myself from telling them about happiness ahead."
"Is there unhappiness ahead?" Shannon pressed.
Elizabeth smiled. "Is the sky blue? The grass green? The ocean wet? Yes, of course. Nothing like we've had, it will be things we can deal with. If we are steadfast and brave and keep loving each other, things will turn out better than our dreams. Shannon, I'll tell you true, if nothing else has come from the last two weeks, we've found there ain't any of us lacking in courage or steadfastness. And a lot of love."
"Crappy grammar, little sister."
"No shit," Elizabeth answered, convulsing everyone with laughter.
There was more talk, and then I was surprised when Uncle Craig gestured at me. "Tom, you and I need to take a walk."
I shrugged, and the two of us went out of the room, down the steps. He walked briskly, not saying anything. After a bit, we were on the golf course that adjoined the hotel; still he didn't stop. We finally came to a small area with picnic benches, what is called a ramada in Phoenix. He waved at one of the tables. When we got there, he sat down opposite me.
"You've been a busy young man," he told me.
"Not entirely of my choosing," I replied.
"No one would choose this; even with the good, it would be like walking across a bed of coals with too many chances to misstep."
He was silent again, looking past me, out over the green of the course. "One of these days, Dave or I need to teach you to golf."
"You could have told me that back at the hotel," I told him, not sure why we were sitting by the golf course.
He laughed. "For sure. Tom..." He sighed. "Ellen told me about you and her."
"And she told me about you and her. JR told me about you and her. Penny told me about you and her. Kim told me about you and her. I think we talk too much about it."
He waved his hand. "No mas, Tom! No mas!" He laughed. "I didn't mean to sound disapproving.
"Many years ago, a total scumbag took advantage of Ellen. If she had left it to me, I'd have killed him. But Ellen isn't like that; she made it clear I wasn't to get involved with him. I beat him up anyway.
"Mom and Dad found out about Ellen's pregnancy; one of the guys who helped with money told his parents what it was for; in spite of having promised not to, they told on Ellen. Dad really got on Ellen's case. I was sixteen, Tom. You know about sixteen year olds; no one listens to you. Well, maybe not you, but for me that's the way it was."
"I know what you mean," I told him. It had been true a month ago, for me too.
"I did what I could; Ellen is Ellen, Tom. I make no apologies for loving her."
"And none are needed. I love her, too."
He nodded. "Still, Dad's will is crystal clear: nothing to Ellen. Do you understand why I've kept it that way?"
"No, sir."
"No, Craig," he corrected. "You Tom; you, Joanna and me are who Dad intends to leave his money to. His intention is that on your twenty-first birthday, or the day I'm convinced you are an adult, whichever comes first, you could control your share. Ditto Joanna. You, Joanna and I will each receive a third of Dad's estate."
I nodded; none of this was new.
"Do you understand what Dad's situation is now?" Craig asked.
"Mom told me he has Alzheimer's. That was a couple of years ago, and that he had to go into a nursing home after Grandmother died two years ago."
Craig nodded. "My parents, Tom, are, were, people of their time. Dad was thirty when I was born, thirty-three when Ellen was born. He's in his 70's now. His first years were rather heavily colored by the Great Depression, then the Second World War. So were Mom's, even though she's five years younger than Dad.
"They were firm believers in self-sufficiency, Tom. Not asking for help unless they needed it. Mom didn't think Dad's problems required our help; for two years she fooled Ellen and me. Then she had her stroke and it was pretty much too late. Alzheimer's isn't a pretty disease Tom; not if you are a strong, self-reliant person, like Dad. You have lucid moments; you have periods of dementia, with the dementia episodes growing in length. You know your brain is turning into mush, Tom."
I could only grimace. The thought was disquieting.
"So, neither of them said anything. Then one day, Mom was gone and there he was." Craig looked at me. "Two years ago, Dad was lucid about ten percent of the time. Now, it's rare that he has a good period, and then it's usually short. So, he's in a full care facility and I go visit him when I can. I don't know what I'll do now that I'm going to move here. Probably move him. Odds are, he'll never know, though."
He reached out his hand, touched mine. "Ellen forgave him a long time ago, for what he did. He never forgave her, Tom. One of the last clear things he told me was that he didn't want to see Ellen."
We sat quietly, looking over the light green grass of the fairways, the emerald green of the greens.
"You follow current events?" he asked, finally.
"Oh, yes," I replied mildly. I had no idea what any of this was about, not any more.
"After Mom died, Tom, I took over managing everything. I went to court, and was appointed conservator of Dad's estate. The medical facts are that, like Reagan, he could live for another ten or fifteen years. Except for the Alzheimer's, Dad is in fairly good health.
"You heard about the dot com bubble, Tom?"
"Yes, sir."
"It's Craig, Tom. Don't be dense.
"I put a lot of the funds into some of those stocks; back in the nineties, more after Mom died. You understand that?"
"Yes, sir. I'm not dense."
"It's Craig, Tom. Your dad helped a little; your mom helped a lot. Tom, Ellen is the brains of the family. You understand that the bubble popped?"
"Yes, I know the bubble popped," I told him, wondering how badly we'd been hurt. I was tolerably sure that unless I'd been lied to, the twice a year payments into my trust funds had been made.
"Do you know what selling short is?"
"I know it's a way to make money when the market is going south; I don't pretend to understand."
"I thought that there would be more problems with Y2K than there were; I kept the investments where they were, even though I was getting very nervous. But Ellen told me not to worry.
"New Year's Day, 2000. You remember that?"
"Yes, Craig."
"A non-event, Tom. Nothing crashed."
I nodded, not sure what he was going with this.
"So, I looked around. I'd been nervous before, but everything right afterwards looked okay, the market was more or less flat. A lot of companies, I thought, had put off expansion projects to deal with Y2K, that in a few months the market would start surging ahead again. You know what Ellen told me?"
I shook my head; not much was making sense.
"She told me that only the fools had postponed much. Did I want to bet on the fools? She went on to say the market was flat because it was nearly out of steam. That once the steam was gone, it was going to collapse," he laughed. "Put like that, I bailed; moved the money to stuff I thought would be safe." His eyes met mine. "Not much happened. I contemplated that maybe I should jump back in; the market was stable, nothing seemed to be looming.
"Except Ellen told me that she could feel the first howls of the wind of change. Showed me a few things that I thought looked bad for a couple of the big companies; Enron," he laughed bitterly. "Not even a dot com stock, I told her."
"I make no bones about it, Tom. I love my sister, love her in ways no one else understands; in ways I've never loved another. So, in spite of my personal belief that things were fine, I stayed out.
"I could go on and on," he said, now speaking more quickly. "It would be a waste of time. Things started to twitch; I could see that some stocks were set to take a hit. We were in good shape, worth it, I thought, to take a risk. When had Ellen been wrong? I talked to Dave, we decided to make a pretty hefty bet Ellen was right."
"We sold the bull market short. Mainly the high flyers; Enron, World Com, AOL/Time Warner and some others.
"You would not believe, Tom, how much money we made in 2000; then it was clear where things were going. We sold short in 2001; didn't do too well until September the Eleventh. I take no pleasure from making a profit from that day, Tom, but the fact of the matter is, we made out like bandits."
"So, instead of having wads and wads of money, we have buckets and buckets?" I asked.
Uncle Craig laughed. "Oh no; oceans, Tom. Oceans. Of course, we are now subject to half a dozen SEC investigations about selling everything short when we did. Except none of us are insiders; they haven't a leg to stand on. Soon, the last of those investigations will be over and finished; we're already looking forward."
"And this has what to do with me?"
"Dad invested me with the right to decide when you could take control of your share; I've decided. Thursday, you and I will go over to the lawyers; you'll sign papers. I'll sign papers. Then we go to a local bank and sign more papers.
"Welcome to the world of the super rich, Tom."
"I'm not ready," I told him. In my mind I was wondering if Alzheimer's was hereditary.
"Probably," he said, improbably agreeing with me.
"But, Tom, there will be changes. Ellen says she wants to start home schooling you and Joanna. That she thinks you should spend half your time at home; under her control."
I nodded, still not sure what he was getting at.
"Sharon and I are relocating here. Starting next week Tom, your home schooling will be partly under my control. You will learn a lot about managing money."
"And if that isn't what I want to do with my life?"
He nodded. "Your choice, Tom. Once the papers are signed, it's up to you. You can do it yourself, hire me or your father to do it; failing that, hire someone else. Your choice.
"You can, Tom, go to any bank, any brokerage house, any financial management firm in the country and get their instant attention. You will have executives fawning over you; literally, they will get you whatever you want."
I contemplated that, met his eyes. "If I did that, it'd be pretty easy, wouldn't it? No fuss, no muss."
"Exactly," he told me. "They'll be happy to do it. Odds are, they'd be honest. You'd only need the most modest oversight to keep them so. But it wouldn't be their money, Tom. Trust me; I had dozens, hundreds of people tell me I was making a big mistake, a seriously big mistake selling the market short. Every step along the way in the last two years; and you know what? The funds they manage are about 70% of what they were before 2000; our funds are at 290%. About six times as good as what they did, Tom. It wasn't an accident. They were cautious and I wasn't."
"One thing I've learned about our family and life in general, Craig; how few accidents there are."
"Your mom getting pregnant."
"Ignorance isn't entirely the same as an accident."
"An accident, Tom," he corrected me, "is when the luck goes against you. Ellen made love to the asshole twice in three months; she missed the bullet half the time. An accident, Tom."
"You and Shirley are going to move here?"
"I'm here to stay; Shirley will be coming back with Kim and Penny. Keisha is thinking about moving, too. I told her that I can pretty well guarantee she and the others will find jobs as good or better than they've got now. I tell you true, Tom; it's been long overdue. California has become business unfriendly and then some. Arizona's not great, but infinitely better than California. We won't even talk about the morons in the Pacific Northwest."
"Dad said there was a lot of money," I said quietly.
"David is a fine fellow; I'd trust him with my life. Trusted him with my sister. Tom, David controls, right now, about 7% of what I do."
I blinked; Dad had given me a number. That was a sixteenth?
"Yes," Craig said softly. "The family is worth about two billion."
"That should show up in the list of the richest people in the country."
"It would, if I let it," he said with a laugh. "But hey, it's split up, there's an umbrella corporation that runs things. There are a couple, six, companies that deal with the different aspects. There are, Tom, dozens of companies like us, hiding under the radar; not wanting the publicity. It's really not all that much, when you consider how many people are involved. You, JR, your mom and dad, Shirley and I. Your dad and I have daughters by Keisha and her partner, they are all taken care of. Penny is mine, so she and Kim are taken care of. Quite a crew, Tom."
I stared off into the distance. "I still don't understand why you're doing this."
"Because, Tom, you need a rock to stand on, out there in the deep water. You've been swept up in events like few ever experience, and acquitted yourself about as well as a person can. It's kinda like fighting a war, Tom. One smart thing you can do is put your money on the guys who are winning all the time. That's you, Tom.
"If you take small steps at first, I'm betting you'll win here too. By the time you're ready to take big steps..." He grinned. "I'm not greedy, I'm not Midas or Scrooge; none of that. To me dollars on a balance sheet are like points in a big game. Maybe the biggest game of all. For one thing, those numbers tell me that my family is safe, barring catastrophe, from the ups and downs of life.
"I'm betting, Tom, based on my personal judgment, that you are going to be better at this than me. Your mom is one of the best financial advisors around; she loves modeling the economy. With all of us together," he grinned, "we'll be unstoppable, Tom."
He paused, his eyes on me again. "So, we are back to where we were: why did I keep to the terms of Dad's will, even though he is no longer in a position to know or care?"
"You promised," I said, realizing in an instant before I spoke, that was really the core of it all.
"I promised. Besides, I knew that giving advice to David, plus a little help with financing, that he would take care of Ellen. And legally, in Arizona, half of anything of his is Ellen's. Not so where we originally came from, but true here. I could do as I promised and take care of her at the same time. It violated the spirit of what Dad wanted, but that's tough; I forgave Ellen, he should have too.
"So, next Monday we talk to your school."
"I don't want to quit school," I told him. "I have a lot of friends. A few responsibilities; I'm the chauffeur." I shook my head. "Next fall. Maybe."
"Tell you what; chauffeur in the morning, then come to the office I'll be setting up here. Then go back to school at lunchtime, spend the afternoon there. That'll give me three hours or so a day; that will suffice until the summer. Then, rather more time in the office."
"And if I don't want to do it?"
"Then you don't like it," he said. "At that point, we'll talk things over, decide what to do. I'm running things now, that can continue forever. I draw a comfortable, but not exorbitant salary. Low six figures; you aren't likely to find a cheaper money manager," he grinned.
I stood thinking about it, and then I looked him in the eye. "Okay, but not before the fall."
"You're making a mistake," he said quietly.
"Then I make a mistake. Craig, I don't think I am. I don't want to fight about it, either."
"Tom, pushing in business is as wrong as pushing in bed. Don't ever do it. If you tell me to stop, I'm going to stop. You know my opinion, you know where to find me if you change your mind. I can deal with that."
We went back and Uncle Craig called home. "Kim and Penny are both having a good time," he announced. "They should all be here on Sunday afternoon, with Shirley in tow."
Dad nodded. "We can probably all safely go back home by then."
"Things are going back to normal pretty fast," Mom chimed in.
"I expect."
There was a knock on the door, and when Mom opened it, it was Eleanor Johannsen, from Children Services. "May I have a moment of your time?" I was surprised that it was me she was asking.
I grinned inwardly. "Mind taking a walk?" I asked, and she nodded.
We went outside. "I've talked to Jennifer several times over the last few weeks," she told me. I waved to a table next to the pool; there wasn't anyone in the water right then, and no one at any of the other tables.
We sat down, and I tried to keep my eyes on hers, not on her breasts.
"Jennifer was pretty out of it at first," Eleanor went on. "Obviously terrified; I feared for her."
I nodded. "Jenny wasn't sure if she was going to run away or kill her brother. Neither was an appetizing choice; she says she didn't contemplate suicide but I'm not a 100% sure I believe her."
Her eyes bored into mine. "Yet, today I would have trouble believing that she came from such a background," she said. "Jennifer has changed. Almost day by day I could see it. Gaining confidence, losing her fear. Looking forward instead of back."
She stopped talking, still looking at me.
"I did what I could to help Jenny," I told her.
"And I don't ever want to know what all you did," she said with a small smile. "Not that it would mean anything in this case, but because it's private."
"It is," I agreed.
"And I'm sure I know who was responsible for most of the changes."
"I told her I'd never let Sam or anyone else bother her again. Period. All I did was keep that promise."
"Which is why I'm surprised Sam survived Sunday," she said.
I shook my head. "I'm not Sam, Roger or Keith. Not hardly. I knew perfectly well that I could hurt Sam as badly as I wanted to Sunday. I thought about it; trust me, I thought about it. Instead, I just made sure there was no way he was going to get back up and go after Jenny again."
She nodded. "I am going to have one more talk with Jennifer, probably at the end of the week. The fact is, Tom, people like me have more work than we can handle."
"A sad commentary on what we've become." I felt it in my bones, all through me. More than sad.
"Yes, but I'm sure Jennifer is in good hands. So, don't expect quite as many visits as you've been told to expect. You'll probably only see me a couple of times in the next year."
My eyes dropped to her breasts; I saw her nipples were erect. She laughed. "And that's another reason why you won't see me very often," her voice was suddenly soft. "I don't understand why it is, but every time you look at my breasts," she laughed again, "I get very damp panties. It's interfering with my vows."
"Vows?" I asked, not sure what she meant.
"I'm a Carmelite nun, Tom."
I was really confused, looking at her again. I said the first stupid thing that came into my head. "You don't look like a nun."
"I'm going to take that to mean because I don't wear a habit." She was laughing, at me I was sure.
I nodded. That too, but she didn't look like my idea of a nun for other reasons.
"We don't have to any more; it makes life so much easier. Another sad commentary on the world today, Tom, a lot of people are prejudiced against religious people and organizations. Particularly mine," she smiled as she spoke. "My religion and my organization."
She grinned. "I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate your changing the subject to something less..." Her voice trailed away.
"I'm not prejudiced," I told her.
"You aren't religious, are you?" she asked.
"No, but that doesn't mean I don't believe in God; I surely do."
"Well, that's something."
I thought for a second, decided that it was either start a religious discussion or check to see if her nipples were still erect. "I don't believe you need religion to be able to live a moral life. I know I pretty much echo my parent's feelings on the subject; they don't much like any of the organized religions. Their disagreements range from philosophical to practical," I told her. "I haven't seen anything to change my mind."
"One of the things I'm required to do," she said quietly, "is leave my religion out of the job."
It was easier this time to meet her eyes. "Me?" I asked. "If it was me in your shoes, I'd wear my habit. I'd tell them that religion was an integral part of my life -- if it really was. Too much of what's happened, Eleanor, has happened because people have taken the easy way out. Refusing to stand up and be counted, refusing to make hard decisions. Sam's parents. Keith Driscoll's entire family. They knew, pretty much what was going on. If they'd intervened, spoken out..." I shook my head. "There'd be people alive and well today who aren't."
"If I did that, I'd be fired," she said softly. "What good would I be to the kids who need help then?" She made a nervous, obviously frustrated gesture.
"I don't believe Children's Services is the only place you can help kids, Ms. Johannsen." I paused. I wished Uncle Craig was here; I needed to ask him a question. "I have a favor to ask." She met my eyes.
"A favor?"
"Well, it's something to think about. Think about how you'd want to set up a private charity that would help troubled kids. What you'd like to see, how you'd like to see it run, staffed," I swallowed. "Funded."
She was silent for a moment, and then met my eyes again. "And what use would that be?"
Time, I thought, to get personal. "Eleanor, I doubt very much if you've spent enough time checking on my parents' financial standing. I can tell."
"Tell what?"
"You asked what use it would be. If you'd checked, you'd never have asked."
"I verified what your parents filled out in the financial disclosure forms about their incomes and employment."
"Dad and Mom's brother have a little thing going on the side," I said with a grin. "You'd be surprised at how big a thing. Imagine finding something like the Great Pyramid at Giza, but with only just a few inches of the top sticking out of the sand. Yep, you'd have seen it -- but you'd be a quite few inches short of a mile from understanding what you'd seen.
"Take some time, think about it."
She was silent, then looked at me. "It's the substance of dreams, Tom."
"So are damp panties," I said with a straight face. "But, your vows don't preclude all dreaming, Eleanor."
She stared at me, and then shook her head. "You are something else, Tom." She stood up. "I'll think about it, get back to you. If I stay much longer, dreams could get too real."
"I have every intention of making dreams come true, for Jenny, for you, for as many others as I can help," I told her, standing too.
She smiled wanly, turned and left. I smiled to myself; her nipples were even more erect than they had been.
I froze, suddenly aware that once again I was close to someplace I didn't want to go.
Tom, that woman has made a lifestyle choice; one that was hers to make. I shook my head. No she's made a life choice; I've heard that they call nuns 'the brides of Christ.' Her vows are just as real, just as important as any promises I've made. What would I think about someone trying to get me to break one of my promises? Like those I'd made to Jenny, Elizabeth, Mary? Mom, Dad, JR? All the others? That person would be despicable. What was I thinking about? Erect nipples and damp panties. I took a deep breath. Learn, Tom, not to run after every beautiful person in the world. Sometimes, yes. Carefully, above all.
I walked back to the hotel room; several people were missing, including Mary and Elizabeth, Shannon and JR. Mom and Dad were talking to Uncle Craig. "Craig, could we take another walk?" I asked.
He laughed, and started to stand up. "I was kidding," I said, and everyone laughed.
"Do Mom and Dad know what you told me just now?" I inquired.
"Yes!" Mom and Dad both chorused.
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