The Brass Statuettes - Cover

The Brass Statuettes

Copyright© 2007 by AutumnWriter

Chapter 15: Promises Kept

Drama Sex Story: Chapter 15: Promises Kept - Trophy wives of corporate executives live according to their own rules.

Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Consensual   Reluctant   Cheating  

Darlene stayed overnight with Jim after they had sex. At Jim's age one erection per night was his limit. It didn't bother him. He took a little nap and Darlene cleaned herself up and then used the neglected hot tub while he dozed. When she climbed back onto the bed he woke. He fondled her for awhile and she let him. She thought he was trying to arouse himself for another round, but he pulled her on top of him—seated her on his face and brought her to climax again.

"He's such a really thoughtful man."

They got into the hot tub together and had a nightcap while they soaked their thoughts away. After that, they went back to bed and went to sleep.

Darlene woke before Jim. As she lay in the bed, listening to his deep breathing, she thought he would probably want sex when he woke up.

"Mustn't overindulge," she reminded herself. "Better one too few than one too many."

She stole out of his bed and dressed. As she was about to leave he mumbled himself awake. She bent over and kissed him on the forehead. "See ya," she whispered. Jim rolled over and went back to sleep.

Darlene took a long shower in her own room and checked out of the hotel, her black dress packed carefully in her overnight bag. As she retraced her route up the Interstate she remembered the security guard outside the suite door when she departed. He said nothing, just as his nighttime partner, only glanced and made a checkmark on a list.

"He musta' known, but he didn't say a word." Indeed, it was her and Jim's private business.

Darlene was learning a lot. It had been a night of firsts. "Well, not countin' that judge at the night before the finals at the Miss Georgia Pageant", but he had ejaculated all over her leg just as she was about to let him inside her. Darlene never counted that as a time.

"Besides, Ah didn't even know Jason back then."

She didn't go straight home when she got back to Houston. She decided to drop by Gloria's house instead. Juana let her in. She found Gloria flanked by Ashley and Brenda having a drink on the veranda.

"Hello, dear," Gloria called out as Darlene appeared in the doorway. "Care for a drink?" It was as though Darlene was stopping to chat on her way home from the salon.

"Don't mind if Ah do."

"Been home yet?" Brenda asked.

"No, Ah thought Ah'd stop here first. Ah called Jason on my cell; he's at the office. There's no one to go home to."

"How was the drive?" Brenda continued questioning.

"Fine; not too much traffic, until Ah got close to Houston, of course."

"Well, we're just beside ourselves waiting to hear what happened," Gloria said all at once. "Are you going to make us drag it out of you?"

"No," Darlene protested. "Ah was just gettin' to it."

"So?" Brenda demanded.

"Well Jim said that he'd help me with Jason and Frank Bennett."

Brenda frowned at the incomplete answer. It had already been assumed that Sweeney would do something to help her, or at least promise that he would. Everyone knew that Jim never turned down a favor.

"What about the rest of it?" Brenda probed.

"You mean..."

"Yes, exactly," Brenda confirmed.

Darlene's face turned a deep shade of red as she paused and Brenda had her answer, but she required Darlene to say it, just the same.

"Remember, you were told once that you have to tell us," Ashley said. Gloria nodded her head in agreement on the other side of the table.

"Well, Ah did sleep with him," Darlene blurted out. "Ah went to his suite. Things just more or less ... happened."

"That's my girl," Gloria said, laughing.

Brenda kept silent, searching Darlene's expression for her thoughts.

"How was it?" Ashley asked.

"It was ... rather nice. Jim was so thoughtful. It was so much easier than Ah thought it would be."

"So, you weren't thinking about Jason?" Brenda asked.

"Well Ah did, once or twice. Ah was doin' it for Jason, after all. We're s'posed to enjoy our work. You said that, too, Gloria."

"We sure did," Gloria agreed.

"So how do you feel now?" Brenda asked. "Any regrets?"

"No," Darlene answered. "Ah feel alive. Ah have power now. Ah feel like Ah took control of mahself and mah life, for once." Darlene paused, letting her declaration hang in the late summer air. When she was sure they had heard her she smiled. "An' Ah got a very good tumble out of it, to boot—two, actually."

Gloria stood and put her arm around Darlene. "Bravo, girl. Now, you're truly one of us—in every way."

"I didn't know that Jim could do two in one night," Brenda pointed out. "He's a little old for that, but he is very good."

Darlene turned her head and looked at Brenda. Her mouth gaped open in a shocked expression.

"I've slept with Jim a time or two," Brenda explained.

"Me, too," Gloria confessed. The women all laughed together.

"Well he is pretty good," Darlene squealed over the laughter.

Brenda quieted and drank a good bit from her glass. "You didn't have to, you know," Brenda reminded her. "No one said you had to. It was all your decision—your responsibility."

"Ah know," Darlene answered. "It all happened so fast an' soon Ah knew that Jim expected more; an' then Ah began to enjoy mahself. Next thing, we were in bed together. But it's okay. It all turned out jus' fine."

Brenda sat back, her job complete. She had brought the novice to the group's level, an augmentation of the corps. She didn't feel sad at Darlene's corruption—or happy about it, either. She felt neither satisfaction, nor emptiness. What she did miss was the feeling of some emotion at such an important event in the young woman's life. It worried her that such things brought no feelings to her. She refused to speculate about the others. She couldn't even remember how she felt when it had been her turn.

"I knew it would happen that way," Brenda confessed to Darlene. "It was inevitable. I just told you the other way to make it easier for you."


Frank had a busy day trying to put together the new financing deal. Not only that, a new forecast was just getting under way. Although the 10-Q from the last quarter wasn't yet on the street, time had a way of marching on.

Business conditions were turning against the Chemical Industry. Homebuilding was plunging, and many of Western's products served that industry. Feed stocks of crude petroleum were increasing in price, too. They were in danger of getting caught in a squeeze between prices and costs. Wall Street was already casting a suspicious eye on Western because of all that happened. Poor economic news made the road a lot bumpier.

All of that was on Frank's mind, but he put it aside for a while to address something else that was important, too.

"You sure you don't want some coffee, Aaron," he said to the nervous employee seated across his desk. Aaron shook his head. "Probably not," Frank said to himself. "He's jumpy enough as it is."

"I'd offer you a scotch, but I'd have to see your ID first." Aaron didn't react, perhaps not understanding Frank's joke, or he just couldn't muster even a polite laugh. Frank assumed it was the first reason, because he remembered how in his younger days, laughing at a vice-president's jokes was always a good idea. "Maybe it wasn't that good a joke."

"How about some juice, then? Orange—apple? I've got both. You look like you're about to faint—I insist."

"Okay—apple, I guess," Aaron answered. Frank leaned over to the intercom and asked Jeannette to bring in an apple juice on ice for Aaron.

Frank sat back down and took a sip of coffee before speaking to his protégé. "Aaron, I think you're taking this FBI questioning too hard."

"Why are they looking at me? I haven't done anything?"

"They have to, Aaron. You were in on the forecast, and that information leaked out prematurely. They have to talk to anyone who had a connection to it."

"I suppose so."

"They interviewed Dr. Lowell right ahead of you," Frank told him, "and I have no doubt they'll be grilling me before it's all over."

"It's not what they said, it's how they said it," Aaron admitted. "It was like they thought if they turned the screws a little harder I would confess to something. To me, it felt like someone accused me behind my back."

"No one did that," Frank answered. "Why would anyone do that?" Frank didn't regret telling the lie. What would have been the use of informing the young man that a vice-president—a lesser man than Aaron in Frank's estimation—had done exactly what Aaron suspected? "What did they ask you, anyway?"

"At first it was our procedures for compiling the forecast and who had access. Then they found out about my inheritance. It made them more suspicious."

Just then, Jeannette came into the office with Aaron's glass of apple juice poured over ice. She set it on the coffee table and put the half empty bottle next to it.

"Can I get anything else for you, Aaron?" she asked in her sweet voice as she set the glass of apple juice in front of him. Aaron shook his head. "More coffee, Mr. Bennett?"

"No, thanks just the same," Frank answered. He turned to Aaron. "What do you mean, 'inheritance'?"

"My grandmother died about a year ago and the will finished probate at about the same time I was doing the forecast. They asked me about my finances and I told them about it. They asked me to sign a release form for my broker."

"Did you sign it?" Frank asked.

"Sure, why not?" Aaron shrugged. He took a swallow of the apple juice and went on with his story. "My grandmother left me a hundred and eighty thousand dollars. I was too busy working on the forecast to figure out how to invest it, so I bought T-bills just to get it into something for the time being. The agent asked me why I didn't buy Western stock. I told him I thought it was going to go down, so I put the money into something safe for the time being."

"So the agent—Henderson is his name—thought you knew Western stock was going down because of what you learned doing the forecast?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Aaron said.

"Was he right?" Frank asked.

Aaron hesitated. He took another gulp of his drink; Frank figured it a play for time. He set the drink on the coffee table. "Yes," Aaron answered.

Frank thought for a second. "Honest answer," he said to himself. "Aaron, you can't get in trouble for stock you didn't buy. If that's all it is, you're worrying about it too much." Aaron nodded and relaxed in his chair. "That is, unless you passed the information to someone. You didn't tell anyone, did you—uncles, cousins, friends?"

"No—no one," Aaron replied. "I was very careful. I know the rules."

"In that case, just answer their questions as honestly as you can. Be patient and it will all go away soon."

"They called me back in right after I got to my desk this morning," Aaron blurted out.

"They're gonna do what they're gonna do," Frank said.

"I feel like they think it was me," Aaron said. "Maybe the company thinks it was me, too. They expect me to be caught."

"Al Crossman would give anything to hear you say that." How could Aaron know that he was nominated to be the human sacrifice? Frank remembered battling his way out of a few scrapes when he was starting out, like Aaron was. Why couldn't a young guy like Aaron just do his job and not have to worry about this? Were Alvin and Jason as frightened as Aaron? Fear could do powerful things to people—none of them good.

"Aaron, if you want to play with the big boys, you have to expect that they're going to throw big punches."

Frank wasn't surprised when he saw Aaron recoil at the advice. He wasn't sorry he said it, either. Sugarcoating was pointless.

"My wife thinks I need a lawyer," Aaron said.

Frank's memory drifted back to what Trudy said to him when he confided to her as they sat by the pool:'I know you too well, Frank. You would never let that happen.'

"At least Trudy has some high expectations of people," Frank thought. "At least of me." It was a burden that he was bound to carry—would never have relinquished if he could have. "Can't let Trudy down, can I?"

"Aaron, I believe you're telling the truth, and as long as you do, I'll back you up." He looked Aaron in the eye and sensed that the young man believed him. He relaxed in his chair. "Look, you can hire a lawyer if you want. I doubt you can afford one who can go one-on-one with these guys. Why don't you hold off on that for a while?"

Aaron ground his lips together as he pondered Frank's advice. Frank waited while the battle of logic and instinct played out. "If it comes to that, I'll give you the word and recommend you to someone I know who can do the job," Frank promised.

"I will; at least for right now."

"Good!" Frank answered. "Come up to my office first thing in the morning. We have to get a new forecast started."

"You still want me to work on the forecast after all..."

"Yes—yes," Frank insisted. "I said that I believe you, didn't I? You've got to believe me, too."

Aaron rose to take his leave. "Keep your cool," Frank said to him. "And tell your wife not too worry so much," Frank called after him.

After he closed the door Aaron looked down at his hand and realized he'd carried his empty juice glass out with him.

"I'll take care of that," Jeannette said, holding out her hand.

"Thanks," he said as he handed her the glass

"I've known him a long time," Jeannette said to Aaron. "The tougher things get, the more you can count on him. Be sure and remember that."


Jeannette came in to see Frank after Aaron disappeared into the elevator.

"What was with the apple juice? You have several bottles in your refrigerator. I replenished it last Friday."

"Aaron was feeling kind of low. I thought if you came in and served it to him it would give him a little pick-me-up. You know, some TLC to boost his morale."

"I thought it might be something like that. So you wanted Aaron to feel mothered?"

"No, Jeannette. If I'd wanted that I would have called Doris. I don't think a healthy young man would think of you as a mother figure."

Hah!" Jeannette laughed. "I've half-a-mind to have you put in front of an EEOC firing squad."

"I'd die with a smile on my face," Frank joked back. "Anyway, I'm sorry if I offended you. I didn't think you'd mind.

"It's alright," Jeannette replied with a laugh. "You should have told me. I would have played the part better."

"Your natural self was what I was hoping for," Frank assured her.

Jeannette covered her face to hide an embarrassed smile. "Anyway," she continued after she recovered, "that's not the reason I came in. I came in to let you know that Mr. Sweeney is in reception and is on way to see you."

"Thanks, Jeannette. Show him right in when he gets here." Frank wasn't expecting a visit from his favorite director, but he wasn't very surprised. Jim was local and visited often. Considering the current crisis, Frank wasn't surprised a bit.

A few minutes later Jeannette appeared at Frank's office door again. "It's Mr. Sweeney," she announced.

Frank saw Jim standing behind her. His eyes scaled up and down the back of her tall, slender form. "Show him in, Jeannette" Frank said. Sweeney didn't wait and bounded into the room and Jeannette closed the door behind him. "Drinkin' the usual, Jim?"

"Sure, bourbon-rocks," he answered. Frank poured it, and then a scotch for himself. He motioned his guest away from his desk, to the office alcove where they could be comfortable and have a conversation.

"One day Jeannette is going to turn around and catch you undressing her with your eyes," Frank admonished with a laugh.

Sweeney laughed, too. "Set me up so I can undress her properly and I won't have to do it with my eyes," he answered back. "Wow! She's quite a woman," he added. "Real class."

Frank took a sip of his whiskey. He wasn't finished bantering. "So, why would a woman with that much class have anything to do with a couple of guys like us?"

Sweeney finished swallowing some bourbon and started laughing at Frank's joke. "I can look can't I? They won't arrest an old geezer for looking."

"Who knows, in this day and age," Frank countered.

Jim shrugged and took another sip of whiskey. "One hell of a classy woman," he mused out loud.

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