Carrying On Ch. 02

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The continuation of My Dearest Becky.
18.7k words
4.69
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Part 2 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 01/28/2016
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Well folks, it's been a while and I deeply apologize for the delay. Life gets in the way and soon the wife and I will welcome a new baby boy. This should be an interesting chapter and it took quite a while to get it the way I kinda wanted it to go.

Before we get to the good parts, I have a request to you, my readers. Which direction should this story take? Should Andrew be given more free reign with sexual partners or should things stay fairly the way they are now? I have plans for Lauren and Ryan, but your votes and suggestions will greatly impact the outcome of the future. Send me some feedback and let me know what you think.

Now, on with the show!

*****

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Becky asked for the ten thousandth time.

"Yes dear, I'm sure," I told her, again.

I'd been pressuring Becky for months to set up a meeting with her parents and she finally did. She was vehemently opposed to the idea, believing that her super rich parents would never accept me or approve of me being with their oldest daughter. I had fought an uphill battle and finally won, on the grounds that we drive there and stay a few nights.

"Babe don't worry so much. It's still a five hour drive to your parents place," I told her as she tried to adjust my uniform. Oh yeah, the other condition she placed on our going was that I had to arrive in my dress blues. It was mildly annoying, considering how the jacket rides around your throat, and she insisted that I drive there wearing the jacket.

"I know," she said. "It's just that I'm super nervous and I want them to like you right away, not pass judgement before they get to know you."

"I love you, and even if your parents don't approve, I'm still going to love you."

The drive was horrendous in that uniform, arguably the worst five hours of my life. When we stopped for gas, several people came by to thank me for my service and one even offered to buy my gas. While I am very proud of what I've done and accomplished, I hate being the center of attention like that, especially by people who are one Dixie Chicks concert away from calling you a baby killer.

We arrived in Knoxville around dinner time, getting delayed by traffic. For some reason, people seem to forget how to drive when they get into large groups, as was evidenced by the multitude of wrecks we passed. When we pulled up in front of her parents house I had to keep my jaw from hitting the floor.

To call it a house is like saying Babe Ruth was an average baseball player. This thing was huge. It had its own parking lot, complete with valet. Ok, maybe I'm exaggerating, but it did have a small parking lot for holiday get-togethers. The grounds were immaculate, with the shrubs and hedges manicured to perfection and the lawn freshly mowed. I was in complete awe as we walked up the cobblestone path.

"Well butter my ass and call me a biscuit," I said. "Look at the size of this place!"

"Just wait til you see the inside," Becky said as we got the the door. "You're gonna shit bricks."

Before we could ring the bell, a tall man with grey hair and a bushy mustache opened the door. From his tuxedo and his rather proper manner I figured he must be the butler. Strange, I've never met anyone who actually had the title of butler before. This was gonna be a strange, and probably difficult weekend.

"Welcome miss Becky," the man said with a distinctly English accent. "It's so good to have you back, and who is this decorated gentleman?"

"Hey Winston," Becky said, hugging him. "This is Andrew. Babe, this is Winston, he's the head of the staff as well as my parents personal butler."

"Pleasure to meet you Winston," I said, shaking his hand.

Becky and Winston began talking as he led us to our room. Normally I would have tried to participate in conversation, but I couldn't help but look around at the furnishings. It was a strange combination of modern design with almost medieval furniture. Winston could have said they got all this from a castle in England and I would have fully believed him. Everything was made from either dark wood or dark metal.

Winston showed us our rooms, then took us on a tour of the house. We saw the living room, the family room, the drawing room, the dining room and the parlor. Afterwards we went around the grounds where Winston pointed out the pool, the detached gym and the servants quarters. I was amazed at how much the servants quarters looked like the barracks we had in the military, albeit much more modern and not in any visible state of disrepair.

"How are the accommodations Winston?" I asked.

"They're quite nice," he replied. "Mr and Mrs Seiver take very good care of us."

"Good. I only ask because these look just like the barracks we had in the military. Much nicer than anything we had, but very similar."

"The company they hired to build them pitched the barracks style. It works well for us, with common areas off of the rooms for us to use when we are off duty," Winston said with a chuckle.

"What's so funny Winston?" Becky asked.

I couldn't help myself. I knew exactly where this was going and it only made me like Winston more. "He said doodie," I said in my most childish voice.

Winston laughed.

Becky smacked me.

It was worth it.

Some of the servants had brought our bags up to our room so we could change before dinner. I had asked Winston if we would meet her parents before dinner, but he said they never took guests before dinner, even their own children. This only served to reinforce the idea that I was completely out of my element. Becky changed into an elegant blue dress and heels for dinner while I had to stay in that damn jacket for another few hours. I hoped it would be worth it.

Becky and I went down to the dining room to meet Winston and await the arrival of Mr and Mrs Seiver. I hoped I gave off an air of calm confidence because inside I was sweating like a whore in church. This was a big deal for Becky, which made it a big deal for me. Why she never mentioned her parents much was always concerning for me, but now I was going to meet them for the first time, and not just as their daughters boyfriend but as her fiancée.

When they entered they sat down quietly, thanking Winston for pulling out their chairs. Mrs Seiver first, then Mr Seiver. Winston took his job very seriously, making the formal introductions.

"May I present Mr and Mrs Jeffery and Samantha Seiver," Winston said, "and Staff Sergeant Andrew Anderson."

Jeffery was about 6'1 with short brown hair and a well groomed mustache. He looked a lot like a young Harrison Ford, in fact I'm sure the two could have been body doubles if they were the same age. Samantha was strikingly beautiful and it was obvious where Becky and Lauren got their good looks from. Her brown hair was just above her shoulders and her full breasts were almost spilling out of her dress.

Yes, I looked. No, I don't feel bad. I'm a man, we look sometimes. It's touching that gets us into trouble.

We shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, making small talk until dinner. The food was excellent to say the least. Jack Daniels pork chops with cheesey garlic mashed potatoes, green beans, peas and corn on the cob. As good as the food was thought, I saved some room for dessert in case it was half as good as dinner.

"So Andrew," Jeffery said as the plates were being cleared. "What do you do for a living?"

"I work for Chevron making gasoline, jet and diesel," I answered.

"Really?" He asked. "We own Chevron stock, from back when it was Standard Oil. How's their stock looking these days?"

"$98.48 this afternoon."

"The company have a stock option?"

"Yes sir. Every bit helps when it comes to retirement."

"Yes it does. If you don't mind, hows your living situation?" Samantha asked.

"Well my best friend and I went in together on a house when we moved out this way. It's big enough for us and has more land than we will use. All in all, it's good. We don't want for anything."

"How much do you make a year?" Jeffery asked.

"Dad!" Becky protested. "Rude."

"It's fine babe," I said, making Jeffery visibly uncomfortable. "Two years ago I made $150,000 with about 1000 hours of overtime."

"And last year?" Jeffery pressed.

"Last year was different circumstances. I spent about nine months in Syria."

"What were you doing there?" Samantha asked. Yes, she honestly asked me that, as I'm sitting across from her in my dress blues and was introduced as Staff Sergeant. My first instinct was to be a complete smartass, but being that her dad was not happy I didn't have a trust fund I let it go. At least I know who the financial wizard is in the household.

"I was serving my third tour."

"Three tours is impressive. What made you keep going back?" Jeffery said as the after dinner alcohol was being brought out.

"Pride, honor, foolishness. Pick any combination," Becky said with a chuckle.

"The first two times were during my active enlistment. The most recent time they called me back just for the deployment."

"What do you think of their motives for the war?" Samantha asked.

"I think what they tell the public is what we believe. That it's the right cause and that we are there to help them. The real reasons are probably a lot less noble though."

"Did you support war from the beginning?"

"I was old enough to enlist when the world trade center was hit. I signed up shortly after and everyone was so gung-ho about getting those bastards, myself included. As this conflict has raged on and many of my friends have died, been physically disabled or mentally ruined by it, I hate every bit of it."

"How has it affected your life?" Jeffery asked. I could see this was where he intended to make his case that someone who is mentally fucked up shouldn't be with his daughter.

"Well sir, it's been a struggle to cope with what I've seen, images of hell that are forever burned into your memory. My doctor has been a great help and I have the support of those around me whenever I may need it. That being said, I have a mild case of PTSD that is usually nothing more than paralyzing flashbacks."

"How else does it manifest?"

"Nightmares and involuntary reactions to things like sudden loud noises. Nothing dangerous or violent I assure you."

"Well to be quite honest, I'm very worried about Becky. See, a refined woman needs a strong, accomplished man in her life and I really don't see you as that type."

"Daddy!" Becky yelled as she stood up. She was turning visibly red and could tell she was about to let him have it. I urged her to sit down.

I got this.

"It's funny you should say that, because Becky is my reason for getting up in the morning. She is the driving force behind 99% of what I do every day. She has saved me more times than she knows about, but I wouldn't expect you to understand that. The only reason we are here is because I felt I should meet my future in-laws."

I was trying so hard to hold back the venom from my voice but I don't think it worked. I observed two very separate but equal reactions here. Samantha was elated, slightly bobbing up and down as she asked Becky to see the ring. Jeffery was so mad I thought he might actually flip the table. He obviously didn't like being called on his bullshit assessment of someone he has only known for about an hour. Fortunately, his wife was so happy that he couldn't stay outwardly mad for long. As the women were gossiping about the wedding plans and such, Winston returned to see if we required fresh drinks. I'd been busy talking and hadn't really touched my scotch so I threw it back, handing the glass to Winston.

"Keep em coming my friend," I said. He smiled and patted my back, taking Jeffery's glass and leaving after the girls said they were fine.

"Why do you think Becky needs a specific type of man Jeffery?" I inquired.

"She was raised properly and should have someone with the same reputation," he said almost through gritted teeth.

"Is it because I didn't go to prep school? Is it because I don't have a last name that is known to thousands of people or is it because she would be marrying a 'commoner'?"

"Yes," was his only reply.

"Ok Jeff, I'll make you a deal. Next month on my week off, you two come down and stay with us. No servants, no butlers, just the real world. If, after that, you still don't think Becky is happy and leading a good life then I will consider what you said about me."

Becky was astonished. We hadn't discussed any of this and I could tell I would pay for it later, but I had to do something. Poor Jeff seemed to have a stick so far up his ass that he could have been the next Jeff Dunham puppet. He needed to see the real world for what it was, and maybe have some fun for once. Deep down I knew I couldn't do it alone. I would need expert help in making fun times and good laughs. I would need Tyler.

"I think it's a great idea," Samantha said. "It would be good for us to get out for once and not have to hear about the newest car someone bought who hasn't driven themselves in ten years or more. What do we have to lose honey?"

"Fine," Jeffery cringed, "but Winston comes with us."

As if right on cue, Winston walked through the door with more drinks. "Where are we off to sir?"

"Andrew invited us to spend a week with them so we can get to know him better. He feels my judgement isn't sound," Jeffery said, trying to get under my skin. I know the cheap shots when I hear them.

"Begging your pardon sir, but he may have a point. Either way, I would be delighted to go, if that's alright."

"That's fine Winston, but there is one rule," I said, seeing a golden opportunity. "You will not be going as their butler, you will be their friend and our guest. That means no serving people dinner, no butler duties, and no tuxedo."

Winston smiled and gave his best sad face. "Whatever shall I do?"

"Then it's settled," Samantha smiled. "Next month we will be coming down and we will all have a good time. Now, it's time for some TV."

Becky went with her parents to go watch TV while Winston and I talked. He told me of his time growing up in England and how he missed seeing his family. We talked about all sorts of things for about an hour before he went to make sure Jeffery and Samantha's bed was ready and that the night shift was prepared.

Becky came and found me a short time later sitting by the pool. I had taken my jacket off and draped it over the back of the chair. She looked so beautiful in the moonlight, her hair shining and her dress swaying in the breeze. She sat down beside me and leaned her head on my shoulder.

"Well, how did I do?" I asked, afraid of what she might say.

"You did great. I expected him to be more subtle, but it seems like he went for the direct approach. I gotta ask though, why did you invite them to come stay with us?"

"He really got under my skin, saying I wasn't good enough and that you needed a proper man and shit," I vented. I needed to as much as I hated talking shit about her father. "I figured that if he sees how normal humans live then he will be excited at the possibility of us."

"And how do you plan to pull this stunt off?" She asked. "What about Carl and Jeanna? What about Lauren?"

Crap, I hadn't even thought this might be a problem for Carl and Jeanna, let alone Lauren. I was so heated that I didn't think it through.

"I'll call them in the morning I guess. Not much I can do right now."

"Do you have anything in particular planned for this week long excursion into the world of rednecks that you plan to take us on?"

"Maybe," I said with a smile. "It may or may not involve the biggest troublemaker we know."

"Tyler?"

"Oh yeah. If anyone can turn anything into a fun time, it's Ronnie Tyler."

"Ok then, where are all these people going to stay?"

"We will figure that out later. For now, let's just enjoy this time together."

We sat by the pool for a few minutes, enjoying each other's company when we saw Winston walk out the back door with a bottle and a few glasses. He placed them on a table and went to leave when I called him back.

"Winston, you can join us if you want." He pulled a chair closer and grabbed an ashtray.

"You don't mind if I smoke do you?" He asked.

"Not at all," I said, pulling my pack of cigarettes out of my sock. Unfortunately, regulations prohibit items in pockets in formal uniforms though that never stopped anyone from keeping their phone and car key in them. Winston pulled a cigar out of his jacket before shedding it like mine and sitting down.

"This is refreshing," Winston mused, "enjoying my evening cigar with new friends."

"It is nice isn't it?" I thought aloud as I lit a cigarette and Becky poured us each a drink. "Just relaxing after a very strange day."

"Was it true? What you said about the horrors of war?" Winston asked.

"I can't begin to describe it. It's like every evil thing you could ever imagine, on steroids."

"Sounds awful. Any good memories from your trips?"

"Plenty." I told Winston several stories from past deployments, of our fun times and our stressful times. Becky would tell stories about the things we did together and our dates. She told him how I proposed right before leaving for Syria.

"Do you have any wild tales Winston?" Becky asked.

"Well, I suppose. I had taken a trip to Melbourne Australia with some mates from university. The only time we were anywhere close to sober was when we had passed out, which made for quite the adventure. My mate Jude got so drunk on our way to the zoo that when we passed the kangaroo exhibit, he climbed inside and tried to fight one. It broke two of his ribs before park security saved him and threw us out.

Jude got thrown in lockup and we had to bail him out. Like all good mates, we used his money to bail him out, then took him to a bar and made him buy the first three rounds. After about an hour he was completely badgered and challenged this big fellow to a contest. Loser buys the shots. Round after round they went, until the big lad just collapsed. The bartender rushed to help the guy up and we slipped outside. I'm no doctor, but we may have killed that man. It was a fun time."

"Damn, and I thought we knew how to have fun," Becky said. "Babe, there is a zoo a few miles from here, wanna go?"

"No thanks," I said. "I'd rather not get my ass kicked by a marsupial."

We talked until the liquor ran out, then we called it a night. Becky told me that tomorrow her father had something planned and that Samantha was taking Becky to do some girly thing. We went upstairs and changed for bed, snuggling up and enjoying each other's company. It wasn't long before I was drifting off to sleep and she was trying to get me hard. In one moment of lucidity, I decided that if my dick got hard, she could have it but I wasn't going to fight to stay awake. It had been a long and particularly stressful day for me and all I really wanted was sleep. Soon I was out cold.

The terrible dream I had was replaced with something much better, and warmer. When I awoke, the first thing I saw was Becky's head bobbing on my dick. No matter how many times it happens, I'll never get over the amazing feeling of being woken up with a blowjob. Her movements were fast yet precise, her rhythm was controlled and that sexy little moan leaking past her lips was the icing on the cake. For a moment I forgot where we were, basking in the love she was showing me.

"Morning babe," she said, popping my hardness out of her mouth. "Hungry?"

"Starving," I said as I tried to break through the haze and fog of sleep. "Swing that ass over here, I want some breakfast."

She swung around, letting me move a bit further down the bed so her legs had room to rest comfortably. I quickly worked on her pussy, taking care to spend time on her most sensitive spots. She moaned and worked me harder the better I did, providing the necessary incentive for me. Soon I found myself needing to fuck her, but she refused.