A Fucking Investment Ch. 12

I had an account that I used to contact Crowley, completely outside the company infrastructure, the one link of Joshua Gale to my Alan Livingston world. It was this account I used to carry on discussions about the Fucking Investment. I used the alias, "Upton". When he contacted me, it was as "Tarleton" and this email was from the same. It read: Yes, blond bombshell would be perfect. Subject eager to make arrangements. Contract? Terms? Let me know." It was signed, Tarleton.

I stared at the email, utterly confused. For half an hour, I searched through the archives, looking for other emails. Finally, I called Crowley. I asked him about that. He agreed that something was wrong, acknowledging he was surprised that I was discussing things in such clear terms. He said I had sent several in a series about providing sexual initiation to virgins. He indicated that he thought it peculiar to discuss such a concept. I asked him to send me copies of the rest of the thread and he agreed. I got them minutes later.

From my account there was a thread of emails sent over the last week or ten days. It expressed a desire for Crowley to see if there was a market for "virgin services" where virgins were handed off to "the good graces of experienced women." They went back and forth on the subject discussing how such services would work. Finally, "I" requested he do some quick and dirty market research.

Crowley (Tarleton) had come back saying he'd check. Three days later he said he had some interest but had not gotten replies to all inquiries. That was in response to a terse request for an update from "me". A day later, another appeared. It read: "Have more replies. Lots of interest. Virgin Services has legs. Particular one. Woman, with son in college, virgin, loves the idea of using MILF to acclimate boy to sex. Wish particulars? She is eager to make deal. Lovely idea. Regards, Tarleton."

I had answered with this: "Lovely. Have perfect woman in mind, blond bombshell, very experienced, eager to please. Perfect for virgin you reference. Get particulars. See if this woman would be acceptable." I signed it, apparently, but this one had a picture attached. I opened it and stared at a semi-nude picture of Jennifer Simpson.

I felt both relief and chagrin. Relief that I was not being hacked. Chagrin that Jennifer had helped herself to my email. Beyond that, she clearly had insight into the workings of my move on Holdingsfield. I sat for a while, jittery and nervous. The money bothered me, yes, but what bothered me the most was the feeling of having an interloper in my house and how easily she had accomplished it. It threatened to undermine everything I was doing.

No, that was not exactly right. It was not like I was being all that coy. To do what I did, know what I know, I had to be checking up on these women. They were not stupid, by now they surely understood that. I was not truly compromised, particularly since there was no reference whatsoever to my "Livingston" identity or indeed to Sharon.

My phone rang. It was John Sawyer asking if I cared to buy him supper. He said it would be eleven or so before he could show me Mrs. Lewis' method of making cash, and then stated the obvious that he could not buy me supper since he was stone broke. I thought it was a curious offer but I had not been out for a long time and being out with another guy who was not really doing business with Allan Livingston or wishing to do some, that was fairly unique in itself. Usually I went out with a woman whose body was destined to be plundered and turned every way but loose. I agreed to buy him supper and he said he'd pick the place and pick me up, he could still afford gas. A little.

I thought he was laying it on a little thick but my phone rang again and it was Sharon this time.

"You can't, we can't just pimp them out." She started.

"Hello to you to." I mumbled.

"You can't just make hookers of them." She said.

"I know. Are you saying that me fucking them, that is enough?" I glanced through my office door and did not see Jennifer. A chill ran down my spine, realizing that suddenly I did not, could not trust her. I got up and shut my door and went to stand by the window, close to the drapes so my voice would be absorbed into the curtains.

"I don't know." Sharon said.

I could tell she was bothered by something. I explained to her Liza's idea and she listened and seemed to think that made sense. "You cannot expect then to think they can work off their debt by fucking you, just you. Like you say, it would take years and put you in your grave, a puddle of cum, a circle of hair and nothing else."

I still had not heard why Sharon called. All our lives, she seemed to have something else on her mind and I could tell when it was getting to her. I was glad she didn't like poker. She would have lost her shirt, her bra and her panties.

"I had an idea." She said finally. "Auctions."

"Auctions?"

"We sell leases. We have a big party. We invite a big list. We put the women of Holdingsfield into a catalog and we sell leases. You know, like we were arranging mistresses for them. Whoever. They buy the lease and if it covers your outlay, then you make it open ended. If not, then you calculate how long they have to participate and that's that."

I turned that over in my mind. The idea of fucking all the women in one community had sounded good as revenge but the practicalities were more involved. We needed a story, an excuse that would let me fuck them all, without making any of them suspicious, at least not enough to try to look deeper. Sharon's revenge, that would be the thing they would not suspect. "It is a good story." I said. I figured if I could sell it to Liza...the rest would buy it. It wasn't significantly different from what we had discussed already. Still money for pussy as the basic principle. The Holdingsfield hookers. It kept coming back to that.

"I have another thought. What about using them for virgin services?"

"Virgin Services? Sounds like that airline's catering business."

"I know but listen. What if we fenced them to people with grown boys, adults, who were still virgins. They could get their son's fucked without making it necessary to find and use a hooker. These women, they might be bitches but they might actually cotton to doing a virgin a service." As I talked, I liked the idea better.

"I'll think about it." Sharon said. "That might be interesting."

"I think I might need to try it, just to see. I, I might need to get one of them out of the way for a while."

We rang off. I stood staring out at the lawn and wall of the yard, thinking. I called Crowley. I told him the email was compromised and to be sure not to hand off anything in it that was related to Livingston. I told him I needed to get cameras put into the house but had to work out when and how to do it. I didn't tell him why, or where the trouble was. I needed to be sure that I wasn't being hacked. I was pretty sure my sex object was twiddling me but I had to be absolutely sure, sure that no one else was fiddling with my email account. I did have things to hide.

A key recorder on the computer would not help. I needed a camera to tell me for certain that Jennifer was the culprit. Otherwise, I might be being hacked and she was getting the blame, or the credit. Given the virgin services idea, there was credit to be had. It occurred to me that it could easily be her fantasy to seduce and tutor a virgin from her comely back. I had no evidence but nothing contradicted it either. What I needed was visual proof that she was using my computer, that she knew my passwords and the like.

I went and took a shower. I had arranged for John to pick me up at seven. By the time I was ready and waiting, I had decided. I needed a camera system but I needed to do it without anyone suspecting. I called Crowley to get him thinking about that and also, my mind on John and Eve Sawyer, I asked him to verify the close out of John's business. I was ready for a night out.