Chapter 5

"Before we count the money, honey," I told Jhoni, "let's clean up here. Then I'll give you a quick tour of the Loft so you know what's what, and we can hang up our clothes." I gestured over toward the dining table and our folded clothes and jackets.

"Are you comfortable right now?" I asked her, wondering if I could do anything for her. "I can get you a robe."

"The, ahhh, temperature is, you know, is not too cool, and not too warm ... It is, mmm... just right. And, I'm, well ... comfortable, but ... a little bit, mmm... tender, too," Jhoni admitted to me with a naughty grin as she pushed back from the breakfast table, her filmy-covered breasts wobbling delightfully.

I smile at the twenty-five-year-old, as I watched her, dressed in her stocking, garter, tiny panties, and nightie, sitting back further in her chair. She seemed completely relaxed, happy. And, she had a little bit of a teasing attitude about her, because she was not quite able to keep her sexy body still.

Her normally graceful movements were now on the three Long Island Iced Tea side of buzzed I thought. I could tell she knew how her breasts, displayed in the sheer silver film of her baby doll nightie reacted to her movements. It seemed to me she was proud of and almost experimenting with the results as she twitched her shoulders or arched her back slightly. She was also obviously judging my reactions to what she was doing, too.

"What will this place ... well ... be like when it, ahmm, snows" Jhoni asked me and sort of shrugged her bare shoulders, which jiggled her chest again. Then she looked down at my lap. "It is so ... you know ... big."

"Well, in response to your statement about an area of your lovely body I'm becoming more and more fond of ... I could kiss you where you are tender and hope that makes it better, Miss Goldilocks," I offered, as I watched Jhoni's blue eyes.

"Oh?" Jhoni inquired, her nostrils flaring and her eyelids going up to her brows momentarily, before they returned to her hooded, I've been drinking and eaten a good meal look. "Mmm ... so, you would do, you know, something like that, ahh, to make me feel ... better?"

"Well, I see our young reporter friend hasn't talked with you about everything the two of us have done," I said with a grin, and an image of Jhoni splayed out naked on my bed with my face moving up for her pussy snapped before my mind's eye. "And yes, I will do that to you to make you, and me feel better. I really like doing that. That is okay, isn't it?"

"Ohhh, yes, I guess..." Jhoni said as a look of surprise and maybe some guarded emotion of some kind flashed over her cute face and a shiver went through her body. "Ah, I should, you know, get up." She pushed herself off from the chair and managed to stand up with a fair amount of grace.

"Oh and ... ahh..." I said, wondering what had just happened with Jhoni, and not wanting her to feel awkward I added, " ... when it gets cold, the warehouses all use steam heat. The Loft is on the top floor ... and, well, heat rises. So even with all of the insulation, this place is sometimes almost too warm during the winter. I have to have the humidifiers on the radiators filled all the time or the plants will all dry up and my skin gets all itchy."

Jhoni just nodded her head as she stood there next to the breakfast table.

"I ... mmm ... really like leftover, ahh, Chinese for lunches," Jhoni said as she leaned over, with just a touch of a Long Island wobble, and peered inside the various containers on the breakfast table to see just how much food we had left; and there was a lot for two people. "Oh, and, you know ... cold pizza, too. So ... we're not going to, mmm ... to just ... well, throw the rest of this out, are we?"

"Heavens no," I replied. "Why would we do that? Some foods only get better the more times you heat them up."

"Mmm ... at our house, my, ahhh, husband ... well, he makes me throw out, you know, any food we don't eat ... once it's been served," Jhoni explained, seeming slightly embarrassed at her revelation. "So, do we put the, mmm ... leftovers in anything, well, special? Or, do we just ... you know, close them up and, ahhh, put them in your fridge?"

"Just as they are," I told her, getting up from my chair. "We can fold over the paper towels to keep under the containers so the grease doesn't get all over in the refrigerator shelves. I just cleaned it."

Jhoni nodded her head again and she started digging the fingers of her right hand into the large container of spicy shrimp.

"You know," I said, admiring her scantily clad body and her innocent presences even if she had a buzz going from her dinner drinks, "you're looking beautiful, sweetheart. I think you should always wear an outfit like that when you're helping me clean up around this place."

"Mmm ... thank you," Jhoni said as she blushed and fished a thumb-sized shrimp out of that container with her fingers and then she popped it into her dainty mouth and started to chew contentedly. She picked up her paper napkin and cleaned her fingers.

"How about while I put food away," I suggested, "and I load up the dishwasher, you go into the bathroom and put your things away? If you want to soak any clothes overnight or do a load of delicates in the washing machine, we can get that started, 'cause I saw where you leaked inside your slip when I put the booze away. How does that sound?"

Jhoni nodded her head absentmindedly and then swallowed her shrimp. I couldn't help noticing the way the muscles in her neck worked.

"That would be ... umm, good. I don't, you know, have many, well, sexy under things ... These, mmm ... I just purchased ... I'll just ... mmm ... make sure this, you know, gets put away safely," Jhoni said with a happy grin, "and then go put my ... ahhh ... things away in my drawers in the bathroom." She picked up the container of spicy shrimp, holding the paper towel against the bottom and walked over to the refrigerator with only one of her steps off line before she corrected her stocking-covered feet.

"Jhoni, sweetheart," I told her, "I think you really enjoyed your Long Island Iced Tea."

I just watched the back of her silvery baby-doll nightie as my new sexy girlfriend swished away from me, and I could not help but admired how her miniscule panties managed to make her garter belt and stocking tops appear even more alluring when seen through her moving nightie. She opened the right door of the brushed stainless steel refrigerator and looked around inside.

"Yes, they were, well, very good ... But, uhmm ... I might be, ahhh, too tender," Jhoni said into the open refrigerator, "to find out, mmm ... if Raisha was right about, you know, Iced Teas being dangerous for a married woman to enjoy ... Unless you ahh ... really do kiss it and, you know ... making it all better."

What could I say? To take my mind off the images Jhoni's comments were bringing up in my imagination, I got up and moved the remains of the Long Island Iced Tea from the table.

Xxxx

So, while Jhoni was in the bathroom, I retrieved our folded clothes from the dining table and placed them on the cart. When not in use, I kept the cart by the fire door entryway across from the master bedroom, so it made sense to move the clothes and the cart at the same time when I gave Jhoni her quick tour of the Loft once she was done in the bathroom.

Next, I laid out her slip on the counter beside the small sink in the laundry-pantry room. Then I put the rest of the food away and started to clean up the kitchen, putting the dishes in the built-in dishwasher under the counter along the west wall. I also cleaned James Junior and put him away inside my messy boxers. While I worked, I glanced once at the kitchen telephone. It was located on the wall, between the right side of the double-door refrigerator and the entryway opening between the kitchen and the combination laundry room and pantry, which was to the left of the big gas cooking range and oven.

There wasn't a flashing red light on the base unit of the phone, so I knew no one had left any messages on either of my answering machines.

I originally had five phone lines brought into the Loft, but I only had three hooked up so far. There was my personal phone line for the loft with an answering machine, a business line for my production company use with an answering machine, and I had a dedicated business fax-machine line in the control room set up for the production company. I had multi-line phones in the kitchen, the master bedroom, the control room, over by the conversation nook, by my work and repair bench, and back in the entertainment room. When I was home and the phone rang, I didn't want to have to walk clear across the Loft to pick up the call.

I knew that I'd need to spend some time on business in the morning and I'd be on the phone and the fax. Luckily the people I'd be getting in contact with had morning business hours on Saturdays. I had homework for some of my classes to do this weekend also.

Nevertheless, the rest of my time I would dedicate to paying attention to Jhoni—and her unique needs. In addition, sometime before we involved ourselves with this whole Georgieanne thing tomorrow evening, I wanted have a conversation with Jhoni to discover more about the makeup of her unique personality traits. I was getting the feeling Jhoni was not just a submissive. From things she'd said about Georgieanne, I was almost sure Jhoni was a switch who was attracted to certain women she sensed she could dominate on her own.

In all the bizarre social and sexual experiences I had observed or participated in during my past rock-n-roll life with Suzi Kazzoo and the HumDingers, I wasn't aware of ever meeting a true switch before. However, I'd never spent enough time around anyone who might have been a switch for the full dynamics of their submissive-dominant nature to become apparent to me, either.

In all of my social experiences with new people while on the road with SKHD, I discovered the sad fact that when you hangout with a new group of people for only a day or maybe an evening, superficial impressions and memories of them are all you usually come away with.

xxxx

"Ummm ... I've got my, well ... things all put away," Jhoni announced, standing by the kitchen side of the privacy wall watching as I worked to finish cleaning the counter top from the other side of the island. She was holding up one of her navy-blue high heels in her left hand and she had her big purse over the right shoulder of her totally hot sheer baby-doll nightie.

"Mmm ... Look what I found, ahh, in the hallway," she said as she gave me a goofy smile and waved her shoe in the air as I ran a mostly dry dishtowel over the damp granite top of the island. "I ahh, think we're going to ... mmm ... have to practice ... if you're going to, you know ... knock my socks off."

"Mmm ... you only managed..." my blonde girlfriend called to me over the sound of the falling rain, coming from outside the building through the kitchen window more so than from the roof, as she started to blush, "you know ... to knock off ... ahhh only one of my shoes.

"And see," the sexy blonde in her nightie commanded, lifting her right stocking-covered foot up in front of her and wiggling her toes at me, "I ahh, still have my socks on."

Part of my brain was thrilled at Jhoni's playful invitation. Another part of me thought I should have put more foam insulation above the ceiling of the loft to cut down on outside sounds bleeding-through the roof. But, in the end, I knew I didn't want to give up being able to hear when a hard rain was falling on the roof. So far, I'd been able to live with any extraneous noises that had faintly shown up in the background on some of my recordings. Thank goodness, the warehouse complex wasn't in the flight path of any airport and the streets close by were too small for any eighteen-wheelers to use to make bulk deliveries or pick-ups.

"And you are looking," I told Jhoni, "mighty sexy in those stockings, I might add. Maybe later I can knock them off you."

"But ... I thought, you know ... Suzi was always, mmm ... talking about, ahh Chance when she'd sing—"

And Jhoni took a deep breath from her diaphragm and I could see from her lower jaw position, she totally relaxed her throat, and then Jhoni opened her mouth and proceeded to sing in a strong liquid voice I would never have ever guessed her to possess. I got goose bumps as soon as I heard her start singing in the bouncy beat of the song.

"I don't know how you manage—but you do it every time...

"You always knock my socks off—when you ring me like a chime...

"Oh, Baby—Baby—sweet Baby ... you have got me hearin' BELLS...

"Just by talkin' on the phone—you can make me cry and moan—

"—girl friends who scoff, can go to hell—'cause you and I, know very well...

"Bay-yay-yay-yay-yay-bee ... You all ways ... Knock my Socks off!"

Then Jhoni took a deep breath and exhaled as she stood there and bounced her eyebrows up and down at me twice, and finished with a little self-satisfied grin.

I think my mouth was open after she sang the first line of Got Me Hearin' Bells, one of my songs off the first album. Jhoni had easily done as well as Suzi had ever sung the song.

"My god ... Jhoni..." I managed to say—stunned—as I dropped the towel I'd used to dry off the counter tops over a hanger on the inside of one of the cabinet doors on the far side of the island from her and missed. I just left towel on the floor, as I closed the cabinet door.

"I had ... I had no idea you could sing like that ... Jhoni... you have got a great voice, sweetheart," I told her agog. And I hurried around the south end of the island and went to her. "You are a constant source of amazement to me, woman."

"Oh ... I don't, you know, sing ... ahh, very well," Jhoni insisted, blushing even more as I walked up to her. And then my sweet Jhoni asked timidly, " ... ah, do I?"

I put my hands around her nightie-covered hips and pulled her groin to me, her purse bouncing off my left side and the heel of her shoe hit my back as she went up on her tiptoes and wrapped me in her arms. We shared a soft kiss, and I could taste toothpaste on her tongue. When she exhaled, I could detect the hint of alcohol on her breath as Jhoni leaned her chest back, letting her arms slip down my shoulders to rest on my upper chest as she kept just her hands, and her high heel, behind my head.

She looked up at my face with a guileless happiness that made my heart climb up into my throat until I could swallow it back down into my chest.

"You surely can sing, sweetheart," I told her from the bottom of my heart. "You surely can sing."

I kissed the end of her cute nose and looked her in the eyes, noticing the very pleased expression she was now wearing, while becoming aware of just how much of an incredibly desirable woman she was.

"So," I asked her, "are you suggesting we practice a lot this weekend? So I can at least try and claim two high heels next time?"

"Ooohhhh, yes," Jhoni moaned up at me with a big naughty grin, and she started a little grind of her silky nightie-covered hips into the front of my boxers, locating my hardening cock between us while her purse rocked into my side. "Mmm ... and not just this, ahh ... weekend. Right?"

"Oh, you've got that right," I told her, feeling pleased as punch. And then I decided to jump right in on the major question on my mind. Well, I would lead into that question first, but it was time for me to bring up the five hundred pound fool in the room.

"And ... since we are going to be practicing your fucking me—and, you are going fuck for me, when ever I require you to, right?"

"Oh yes, James," Jhoni told me, sounding like an eager young girl, as she vigorously nodded her head, making her nicely combed blonde hair bounce on her bare shoulders. And only the silk ribbon coming down her collar bones from around the back of her neck kept the top of her nightie up as her big full boobs shook in sympathy with her agreement. The long strap of her purse slipped to the outside of her right breast over her hardening pink nipple, which was gauzed over underneath the silvery material of her nightie.

Jhoni saw me staring down at her chest.

She smiled with delight and she leaned her shoulders further away from me so her tits would have more room to move and she really pushed her hips against my boxers and my growing erection as she wiggled both her hips and her shoulders for my pleasure.

I had to get a good grip on her lower back with both hands so she wouldn't fall backwards out of my grasp. I could feel it in her vigorous movements and in the almost reckless abandon with which she leaned backward; especially with her alcohol buzz, she trusted me not to let go of her as she continued to jostle her nightie-encased tits for me. I saw that both of her nipples were hard now.

"You are something else, sweetheart..." I laughed, happily surprised at her playfulness, and now wanting to first speak to her submissive nature as best I could before getting down to the question foremost in my mind.

"Your responsiveness pleases me very much, Jhoni. And, if you are going to fuck whenever I want you ... Then, we need to have a serious talk about what is obviously happening between us. And, the fact that you are a married woman.

"I don't see me wanting to give you up," I told her and looked deep into her open and trusting blue eyes. "So, what do you want us to do about this situation ... About your husband?"

Jhoni's blue eyes popped all the way open, her delicate eyebrows going up. She stopped her teasing grind against me and sort of straightened up. I was able to relax my grip on her hips and her big purse brushed over the back of my left forearm.

"Well, James..." Jhoni said matter-of-factly, while focusing on me with a sensible look, "mmm ... I guess ... I will have to, you know, tell him to give me ... uhhmm, a divorce ... now, won't I."

"That is what you want to do?" I asked her, feeling a big smile starting to develop on my face at Jhoni's evident complete commitment to our blossoming relationship, while at the same time realizing I had not felt a massive jolt of adrenaline, and a building sense of panic accompanied by the overwhelming urge to run away. "So ... a divorce ... just like that?"

"Oh yes, James," Jhoni said and nodded her head definitively, once. "Definitely ... My husband is, you see, up in Cleveland, ahh, this weekend ... Where he will be ... I'm told ... offered a very prestigious position, uhmm, on staff.

"Also, uhh, before he left ... he told me his plan is, well ... to work there for three years, mmm ... in his specialty. And after those three years ... he announced we will be going ahh, to move back to India ... So he can set up, you know, a practice there. In, ahh, Bangalore..."

"Wow..." I said, shocked. "So, err, your husband just... informed you of all this before he left? The two of you hadn't discuss any of this?"

"It is his, mmm ... household," Jhoni told me, looking down at the high heel she held in her left hand. "In our faith, it is not customarily the ... mmm ... woman's place to, ahh, have a say in such matters."

"Customarily, being the operative word?" I asked Jhoni, knowing that customs often morphed once believers came to America, the land of the free.

She looked up at me. I saw a deep resolve in the blue depths of her eyes.

"I do not ... mmm ... intend to leave for, you know, Cleveland," the blonde woman I realized I was falling in love with told me. And I could hear anger rising up in her voice. "And, I will not ... live in India, as his wife.

"When our, mmm ... marriage was, you know, arranged ... no mention was, ahhh, ever made of us returning to India to live ... This plan is, mmm ... unacceptable ... And, after all that my family has, you know ... done for him here in the States, and ahh, his family over there. Thank goodness, mmm ... my mother insisted on a, well ... a pre-nuptial agreement between the two of us before she would agree to our engagement."

"Really?" I asked, intrigued at more of the hidden dynamics of Jhoni's married life about which I was learning. "And, that was in California?"

"Oh, yes," Jhoni said intently, studying my face. "The agreement ... mmm ... was designed to, ahh, limit the marital assets ... to, you know, only those accumulated during the actual marriage. He signed because, ahh he felt assured ... mmm ... I'd not be able to, you know ... go after his, well, future earnings ... if I ever turned out to be ... well, too American for his culturally conservative nature. Unfortunately, for him—my husband insisted, well, that I not work once we married ... You see, all our marital assets so far are from his efforts. As all the while he was, you know, attaining his medical education, he was, mmm ... belittling my dreams of, ahh, becoming a writer.

"So ... mmm..." Jhoni said in a slightly distracted tone while she held her high heel in both hands and she focused beyond my shoulder. She seemed to be formulating her plans as she told them to me, "At temple, you know ... this Sunday ... I will ahh, talk with a certain woman whom I trust ... She is, well ... she is a very good lawyer. I will, mmm ... say to her, I have need of a bit of your time later, Miss Tarviachabi. It is not respectful, you see, for women to ... ahhh, discuss worldly personal business ... at temple on Sundays.

"This woman has, mmm ... represented other ahh ... women of our faith who are, you know, American citizens, like me ... She has helped them ... she will help me. I will, mmm ... talk to, you know, my best friend ... Raisha..."

Jhoni slowly began to smack the palm of her left hand lightly with the sole of her shoe, which she held in her right as she gazed over my shoulder at her plans as they took shape in her mind.

"Raisha will ahh, invite this nice woman to share the, mmm ... hospitality of her home—after temple ... I will, you see ... also be there when Miss Tarviachabi arrives..." Jhoni told me, as she focused back on me while raising her shoe up for emphasis. "The three of us will then, you know ... discuss my situation at our convenience.

"She will tell me ... ahh, what steps to take, and ... I guess, in what order," Jhoni told me, looking deep into my eyes, almost as if she were willing my understanding. "She will know how to ... mmm... protect all of my, ahhh assets ... from him, and his family.

"Mmm ... James, you need to ... well... know," Jhoni said in a confidential tone of voice as she leaned toward me and put her hands up to my shoulders, careful of her high heel against my right collar bone. "My father was... very wealthy. When, mmm ... he died ... my portion of his estate ... well, was set aside in, ahh, a trust by my mother's father in England, and it is administrated there ... I am to take control of, you see ... my inheritance ... when I turn twenty-eight...

"After my Indian wedding ... I, mmm ... overheard..." Jhoni said, a pained look on her face, "my father-in-law discussing my trust with ahh, his elder brother. They did not know I was, you see, in the family apartments at the time. Knowing my husband and I were, well ... returning to the States ... I thought I would be, you know, safe. The laws in India, you see, do not protect the wives...

"My inheritance ... mmm ... has grown much since my ahh, father died," Jhoni said sadly, watching my face and eyes for any response. "It is now worth ... ahhh ... just over—

"—twenty-three ... million ... pounds."

Holy Crap, I said to myself on hearing the 'M' word in addition to the 'P' word. On its own, my mind did a quick calculation based on the Wall Street Journal conversion quote I'd read in the school library when I was out of the office during my lunch hour the day before.

"That is ... just over..." I quietly said to Jhoni, " ... thirty-four million dollars..."

"And ... mmm ... my husband will get none of it. I will not go ... mmm ... back to India ... to live..." Jhoni defiantly told me, and then she compressed her mouth into a grim line with her lips tightly together. I could see she was considering something else as she experienced the slow burn ignited by her husband's unilateral three-year plan for her.

"I would, you see," Jhoni informed me, as I saw the signs of concession in her eyes, the muscles of her face and her shoulder, "visit my family, ahh in India. They are all ... you know, such sweet dears ... But, never my husband's..."

"So, the last time you were there," I asked her, "was when you and your husband went to have your Indian wedding ceremony, right?"

"Ohh ... you remembered," Jhoni said, and rewarded me with another goofy pleased grin and a squeeze on my left shoulder. Her agitation, if not her resentment, seemed to have completely dissipated for the time being. "Well, I would be ... mmm... very happy ... to visit with his cousins ... who were the ladies, ahhh ... in my Indian wedding. But—only them. I would like to do so, one day. I think they would enjoy, mmm ... drinking Long Island Iced Teas with me."

"And maybe ... smoking some more hashish? But, Jhoni," I asked her, taking her voluptuous body into my arms to hold and being careful of her big purse and the shoe in her left hand, "would you warn those ladies who are married now of the dangers drinking Long Island Iced Tea before all of you got tipsy?"

"Mmm ... what would be, you know, the fun in that?" Jhoni whispered to me as she melted into our mutually protective embrace.

Xxx

Holding her in my arms, a good part of me was incredibly thrilled with Jhoni's unqualified decision to commit completely to our relationship. I found I had responded to her determined demeanor as she had formulated her plans to start divorce proceedings on the spot. Her affirmation of her feelings for me filled me with happiness, hope in our future, and such tender affection and pride for her, my eyes misted over. As we embraced, I could feel our hearts slow and begin beating as one.

We both sighed deeply at the same time and just held on to each other.

I'd been in romantic situations on several occasions before where the woman I'd been involved with, for whatever length of time, had balked and then stepped back when it came time for making a firm commitment to me and to our relationship. Those experiences had left me questioning my worthiness for love as well as the types of women I found attractive.

After those experiences, as a member of a successful rock band I'd been able to bury my insecurities and disappointments under the exquisitely amazing flesh of a string of incredibly sexy, willing young women who were along for the rock-n-roll lifestyle ride and didn't seem concerned on just how long that ride with me would last.

Jhoni and I basked in the peace between us, which was gently growing. We lightly swayed together almost as if we were dancing without moving our feet there in the kitchen opening of the privacy corridor. Still, there was tiny part of me that was alarmed because of the amount of money Jhoni had informed me she would take control of when she turned twenty-eight.

I was, because of my early economically prudent approach to music as a business, a multi-millionaire and my income streams from contracts I held and royalties I received were growing along with the careers of Suzi Kazzoo and the HumDingers. And, there were other projects my production company had in the works, which should generate even more amounts of big, long term cash; adding to my holdings.

Compared to my bankroll, Jhoni's wealth was presently greater by a factor of just over three times. However, if Jhoni was willing to be with me, who was I to complain, I told myself. I would just have to try and get used to being a kept man once Jhoni took control of her trust, I thought, as the two of us seemed to release each other from our hug at the same time.

"Thank you, James," Jhoni told me, looking up into my eyes as she eased her body away from mine. "Mmm ... you always have known ahh, what I've needed; sometime, well ... before I knew. I am ... uhmm, feeling so much better now."

"Good, your happiness is as important to me as our finding a way to be together. And that sounds like a good plan, talking to Miss Tarviachabi," I said to Jhoni. "If you need anything, any help at all, just ask. You are doing this for us, after all."

"Mmm ... certainly," Jhoni answered me with a beaming smile, and held up her high heel.