Chapter 2: Business and Relaxation

We were very glad to get the issue of Ben and Beth settled. Maybe they'd grow tired of each other. We hoped not. On any given night, Beth was as likely to stay over with us as Ben was to stay over with her. They were both very good about making sure both sets of parents knew their plans. Ben always wrote his schedule on the white board by our phone.

They were quite a pair: Ben, the lanky, brainy, outgoing hunk; and Beth, quiet, small, breath-takingly beautiful. Still painfully shy, she was getting much more assertive around the family ... and, to our delight, she didn't put up with any crap at all from Ben.

They went hand in hand everywhere.

Ben said some of the boys in his class tried to tease him about having a girl friend. He just faced them. "Damn right I do. And any of you clowns bother her, you have me to answer to! Everybody got that?" Since he'd been pretty much left to fend for himself during our trouble, he didn't feel he needed to be particularly ingratiating with this bunch, anyway. They hadn't been friends when he needed friends.

And Beth—wonderful little Beth—told us at dinner one night that a small group of classmates, giggling like crazy, had come up to her in the cafeteria one day, wanting to know about Ben. Seems they wanted to know if he'd kissed her, yet! Beth, blushing as she told us (It was quite a breakthrough that she had!), said she'd blushed bright red, but quietly said they'd have to ask Ben. As far as she was concerned, what she did or said with anybody, was between her and that person.

The girl personifies discretion.

One evening, after she'd tried to screw my brains out, Rachael asked me for a job. The twins were gone, and the other two were in high school and practically raising themselves, though we participated as much as we could. Rachael needed a productive and challenging outlet for her energy and intellect. Could I find her a suitable place in the business?

As a matter of fact, I could. Our current Manager of Sales and Marketing just wasn't getting it done. Our sales numbers were increasing, but analysis showed that the increase was due entirely to either price increases or to new projects I brought in. Our in-house marketing staff was just marking time, maintaining what we already had. I expressed my displeasure to our General Manager, but nothing happened.

So I called a Board Meeting. Since I held, or voted, all the shares and the General Manager was on the board only because I'd put him there, I figured I had all the votes.

When we met, I assured the GM that I was not upset or unhappy with him, but that my vision for the company was more dynamic than what I perceived his to be. I was especially disappointed with the sales figures and with the lack of innovative new products from the Marketing and the R&D divisions. After some discussion and listening to the GM's ideas—all of which were OK, but did not supply solutions to the problems I wanted to address—I suggested a 'minor reorganization' of the management structure.

In my vision, I would assume the title of President and Chief Executive Officer. The GM would become Chief Operating Officer and have the title of Director of Operations. He would be responsible for the administration, manufacturing, and distribution functions. I appointed Rachael to the Board, too. It would consist of him, Rachael and me.

Rachael would become Director of Marketing. She would report to me and would have responsibility for marketing, sales, and new product development.

There was, of course, some grumbling about the changes. I just put out a memo reminding everybody that I owned the company. If I felt my wife could contribute to making my investment grow, that was certainly my prerogative. And I let everyone know that anyone who was unhappy with the changes could try his (or her) luck elsewhere!

I was not pleased with the results I was getting, but was trying hard to make the dead wood productive, rather than just doing an extensive pruning. I took special pains to explain all of this to the GM, because he served well, within his ability, and I didn't want to lose him. But I made sure that he and everyone else understood that this was my company and I was going to make it responsive to what I wanted it to do.

In the end, we fired the Sales Manager—he was unable to change, and working for a lady boss who looked like Rachael was too much for him—and a couple of the salesmen. (Within a year, Rachael doubled sales and introduced two new products.)

In the R&D department, the problem wasn't with the manager or the creative people—it turned out that the department secretary had 'sucked up' all the knowledge and power she could and parceled it out in grudging little bits. It took Rachael about five weeks to figure out what was going on. Then she called the woman in and, behind closed doors, chewed her out royally! When she was finished, she told the woman she had a choice: She could move to a clerical job in the shipping department, or be terminated for cause. The woman, who was really a stupid bitch (which was why she had acted the way she had—to camouflage her stupidity), got huffy and said, "You can't fire me! I quit!" Rachael immediately called her secretary in, and had the woman repeat that in her presence. Then Rachael ordered the secretary to escort the woman to her desk, where she would remove only her own personal items—nothing belonging to the company—and then would escort her out the door. Her final check would be mailed within three days.

As soon as they were out of the office, Rachael walked into my office and told me what she had done. I gave her a big grin and said, "Right on! That bitch has been a problem for years!" I went to assist Rachael's secretary, to be sure the woman left at once and with only her own property. I'm glad I did, because she tried to sneak in a couple of computer disks, containing details of research underway and finished projects, which I firmly removed from her box of pictures and Kleenex.

We made sure our personnel department sent her final paycheck in two days and her retirement fund check within a week. We also sent a letter to the state employment people stating that she had 'walked off the job', and had announced that she quit in the presence of a witness. The woman wouldn't get jobless benefits and our unemployment insurance rates wouldn't go up as a result.

A rejuvenated R&D group soon delivered several proposals to Rachael. And, as I've said, we introduced two new products that year.

Rachael had fun and more than earned her salary.

We were really tired of hassles from Ed and his family. They were adamant about pursuing their lawsuit against Rachael. So the investigator was hired again to look into it. It took a couple months and several thousand dollars, but we finally got the story.

Not long before he met Rachael, Ed had tried to seduce his sister. She told him to buzz off. So he drugged her and raped her. The drug he'd used was some street LSD. The combination of acid and the rape, in which she had apparently been slapped around pretty brutally, resulted in permanent brain damage. The rest of the family found out what had happened and pressured Ed to put up most of the cost of her care. Being selfish slobs, they felt that she wasn't their responsibility, even though Ed was no longer around to support her. Therefore, they went after Rachael.

Rachael wrote an exposé of the whole sordid story, then had our lawyer send it to theirs. It would be given to the papers in Portland and Vancouver, showing what a sorry lot they were, unless they dropped their suit and paid our expenses. Further, they would agree in writing to never have anything to do with any of us for any reason, except through our lawyer. Apparently they weren't all on drugs like Ed; they folded, and signed.

With the twins home for the summer, and not needing to find summer jobs, the kids spent a lot of time on the river. To give them all something constructive to do, I had them take the Coast Guard Auxiliary classes in boat handling. All five of them (of course Beth went, too) became very proficient and soon any of them could handle Toy better than I could. It was quite a sight to see the big cruiser come boiling up to the dock, swap ends and back in to a perfect touch on the slip, with tiny Leah at the helm.

Shortly before we were going to take off for our vacation, Ben went to Rachael. "Mom, I'd like you to do something."

"Sure, Ben. What?"

"I'd like you to invite the Sommersets to go with us."

"Gee, Ben. I don't know. We have as many people as Toy can handle, now. And we really don't want to advertise our family structure too much. People would get wrong ideas if the twins' marriage became common knowledge. Beth is family, but I'd sure hate to gamble on her parents' reactions."

"Mom," Ben said, with that tone teens reserve for particularly dense adults, "they know. They've known for months ... No, they haven't come right out and asked me, or even said anything directly. But they have let me know, beyond a doubt, that they know." With a grin, "Where do you think Beth learned to keep her mouth shut?"

So Rachael brought it to me. I thought we all needed to discuss it. When we were all together, the twins were against it, until they were convinced of the Sommersets' discretion.

"Anyway," Sam said, to get us back on track, "if they go, it's all the more reason to get a motorhome, too. Sara tends to get a little carried away at times—noisy, you know?" he finished smugly. Sara hit him, affectionately.

Timidly, Beth spoke up. "Dad has a big motorhome—33 feet, I think. If we took it, Ben and I could sleep there, with them. That way, Sam and Sara would have 'their' room on the boat. Yet during the day, all but one or two people could be on Daddy's Toy."

Golly I'm learning to love this girl! Though young, she's not only beautiful and discreet, she's really smart, too. We all liked the idea—we like Beth's parents—and appointed Beth and Ben to talk to them.

Frank and Margie jumped at the chance, so we did it the way Beth suggested.

Frank Sommerset was a handsome, competent guy, but underneath, he was a bundle of insecurity. Margie was very attractive—a bit brash, but outgoing and genuinely warm. Strong church members, they held to the moral beliefs of their faith—which is why they had such problems relating to us and to the developing love between our kids. It wasn't until they got beyond the 'surface'—which for us was pretty well hidden—and discovered that we held the same moral values they did, mostly, that they came to accept us for what we are and not try to judge us by their stereotype.

We did shake up their thinking a lot. Of course, this started with Beth. They love Beth dearly, but took her for granted as a natural part of their life together. By contrast, we adored Beth and came to see her as a unique, very special part of our own family. We were thrilled that we could have so much of her. To Frank and Margie, this was really strange. That we would have such an extremely high opinion of their painfully shy and quiet daughter was flattering; but they couldn't understand it since she was so quiet and shy—and since she was sleeping with our son! Wouldn't we think she was a slut or something?!

We knew Beth wasn't a slut. In fact we were certain Ben was her only lover. She and Ben were too damn young! But they were both 'star quality' kids and we recognized their need—and pragmatic intelligence—to grab the other when they had the chance. As we got to know Beth better, we came to appreciate just how special she is. We weren't about to do anything to upset her relationship with Ben. Not that we were going to become slaves to teenage whims—but that was never an issue. We just loved Beth and welcomed her into our family.

Then, when they discovered the 'strange relationships' in our family, they were really shocked. For a couple of weeks, they engaged in short, furious arguments about us—and about whether they should allow Beth to continue to associate with us.

The solution, of course, was Beth. When she discovered what her parents were thinking, she put them straight—in her quiet way.

"Momma, I heard you and dad arguing last night. You just don't understand about Al and Rachael. They were both married, for a long time, to other people. After 18 years—longer than I've been alive, mom—Al's wife just walked out on him. Then kidnapped her own children and sued him for control of his dad's business!

"And Rachael's husband was on drugs. He was making a ton of money, but wouldn't give Rachael enough to pay for food. He took up with some woman he met in a bar and didn't even come home—told Rachael to get a job, if she needed groceries!

"Ben says Rachael and Al were always very close and really loved each other. When Al's parents were killed—she was the closest thing to family he had, and her parents died long ago—of course they came together. They love each other. Then they fell in love with each other. Isn't that natural, under the circumstances? Besides, they got married before you met them. So what's the big deal?"

Since this was quite a speech for Beth, her mom listened and thought about it. She and Frank took a 'wait and see' attitude and, finally, came around.

There were three couples who could drive the big RV, but all the kids were proficient with the boat, so we decided that primary navigation and boat-handling would fall to the kids, while the adults would mostly be responsible for driving.

Since Leah was the only one without a partner, we wanted to make sure she was included in everything else.

So we put her in charge.

To no one's surprise, she did very well. First, she talked to Sam, to see what still needed to be done to Toy before our trip.

Next she corralled Rachael, to decide on a menu and do meal planning. She gave the grocery list to Ben and said he was responsible for getting all the stuff on her list and getting it stowed. Some items needing refrigeration would be kept on the motorhome, which had an 'extra' refrigerator she used for additional cold storage. Most fresh items would be purchased along the way. We'd learned that, traveling with wheels as well as boat, there were plenty of chances for stocking up on groceries and you shouldn't carry more than needed on the boat.

Then she inventoried Toy and made a list of supplies, bedding, and so on we needed, as well as safety equipment that should be replaced or added to what we had aboard. The twins handled that. All of the kids spent a day cleaning and polishing, to make sure Toy would be clean and fresh for us.

She checked out the CB on the motorhome, to be sure it was compatible with the one on Toy. And she made sure the cell phone number for the motorhome was posted by each helm on Toy and the number for Toy was in the motorhome. She wanted a marine radio on the motorhome, but was overruled by Frank, who felt CB and cell phone were enough.

Finally, she arranged with the marina to have the boat serviced, any needed repairs made, fueled and ready to go before the 4^th of July weekend. On the 3^rd, she took the boat out for a couple of hours, to satisfy herself that everything was ready.

If you're getting the idea that this chick is an organizer, you're right!

Late afternoon on the 4^th, she and the twins took the boat downstream to the Columbia, found a good spot, and anchored. They slept aboard after watching the fireworks display at Ft. Vancouver, then came back in the morning to top off the fuel and pick us up.

In the morning, the Sommersets dropped us off at the Marina. They'd meet us at Bonneville Dam. On the way, they promised to take some pictures of Toy in the Gorge, from Crown Point.

Since she was in charge, Leah took the first trick at the helm. Once we were clear of the slip, I stowed the fenders and stretched out on a seat in the cockpit. Pretty soon, Rachael joined me. Pulling her closer, I put my arm around her, while she snuggled.

"Well," Rachael said, "it's sure a different situation from our first trip, isn't it?"

"It is that, baby. That first trip, we were all upset about Ed. Nobody knew what was going to happen, or even if we'd get to keep the kids! And we weren't together yet, either. I'd say we've come a long way in two years. All for the better. I'm sure happy with my mate—my life partner." I gave her a slow, deep kiss.

Hearing a giggle, we looked up and spotted twin faces grinning down at us from the edge of the hard top. "Get them on the water and they just get overcome by lust, seems like," Sam said.

Sara giggled again. "Yeah. And think of their lousy example in front of the children."

"If that ain't pot calling kettle black, I don't know what is!" I said, joining the fun. "Come on down and join us."

"Nah," Sara said. "You might teach Sam something I don't want him to know yet. I think we'll stay up here with the others—you know, help Leah navigate and all that."

Leah heard that. "Help your mother suck eggs!" she called out.

The twins went back to the seat behind the helm, where they chatted with Leah, Ben and Beth. Rachael and I got in some serious kissing and light petting.

As the day warmed, we peeled down to swimsuits. Soon we were well away from the boat traffic around Portland and were on our own, on the great Columbia. With no one else around, Rachael took off her top, to get an 'all over' tan.

Sara spotted her and decided it was a super idea. In minutes, the other three girls were topless, too. I've never seen a better skin show, even in Las Vegas! The boys decided they could play, too, and shucked their shorts. Before we knew it, there was nothing but bare skin everywhere.

If I do say so, we are a good-looking family—even my middle-aged carcass isn't too bad, if you like 'love handles'. Of course, 20 pounds lighter would be better.

The kids asked us to join them on the fly bridge. We'd intended to leave them to themselves. But they really wanted us, so up we went. The seats were all occupied. The single seat in front, opposite the helm where Leah was sitting, contained Ben, with Beth on his lap. The lounge behind them had the twins. So we sat on flotation cushions on the deck and leaned against the bulkhead. The kids were chatting about this and that, the younger ones mostly quizzing the twins about college. In between, there was a lot of petting going on.

I felt honored, and I confirmed later that Rachael did too, that the kids trusted us enough to invite us to join in that kind of session. It wasn't a group grope, or orgy. Everyone had his own partner and there wasn't any switching around. But there wasn't any modesty, either. We were all family and there was nothing showing we hadn't all seen before.

Pretty soon I noticed Beth was unusually quiet, but with a look of concentration on her face. A closer look revealed that she had Ben's tool firmly embedded in her. As soon as I caught on, I nudged Rachael and rolled my eyes towards them.

Rachael just grinned at me and moved onto my lap. There was nothing subtle about her. She moved her shapely rear until she felt my interest, then stuck it in! I don't know if it was the kids, all that lovely skin, or just fresh air—Rachael was really horny that morning! If we were going to do it this way, I wanted it to last. I'd like to keep chatting with the young folks while being plugged in at the same time. But Rachael was in a hurry and needed to get off. So I inhaled one of those marvelous nipples. As always, the suction, with some tongue-lashing did the job. She bucked and moaned and wailed and darn near bit the thing off with her talented internal muscles!

When she collapsed against me, I just held her and petted. I was still hard, in my favorite spot for hard. Pretty soon, Rachael looked around, to see everybody staring at her. She blushed and grinned sheepishly. "I put on quite a show, huh? You kids are just too sexy for words. I had to get a quickie to relax enough to enjoy the day. OK?"

"Sure mom." "Anything you say, Aunt Rachael." "Works for me." "Way to go, mom!"

Beth didn't say anything, but looked at us with her shy smile and luminous eyes. She knows she's accepted and loved here. (She also knows Rachael wouldn't have let her see us like that, if we didn't trust her.)

"Love," I said quietly to Rachael, "why don't you take the helm for a little bit and send Leah here?" Rachael looked at me like I'd grown horns. "No, I won't fuck her. But she needs help. I can help her."

Rachael grinned, got up, patted me, saying, "Save that thought," and took the helm, sending Leah to me.

Leah looked a bit apprehensive. After all, I still had that woody. But I smiled at her and asked her to sit beside me. Speaking softly—this was between the two of us—I asked if she wanted some help with her horniness. "I'm OK," she said, stoutly.

"Sure you are. That's why your fingers are so sticky," I rejoined. "I won't fuck you, honey. That's for when you pick your man. But I can help. If you'd like."

"Well," fake coy look through her lashes, "what kind of help did you have in mind?"

"Have you ever had a good licking?"

"No. Can't say I have. Never had a bad one, either."

"Shall we try?"

"Why not?" she grinned.

"Let's go down to the cockpit. It'll be more comfortable for you."

She was down the ladder in a bound.

I followed a little more slowly, telling her to stretch out on the bench, with her legs over the end by the salon door. I knelt beside her and kissed her tenderly. Then I moved down between her legs and opened her up a bit. At least this time, there wouldn't be anything fancy. The poor girl was hotter than a Saturday night special! I started by kissing and licking her—cleaning up, as it were. When I got to her beautiful little slot, I first blew on the damp area. She shuddered. Then I gave her a broad lick from back to front through her crease.