The White Box — Part 2

CHAPTER 4

Monday morning came too soon. I kissed Rita goodbye at my front door, holding her and not wanting to let her go. “I’ll be back tonight, remember and I’ll also see you at nine. Don’t worry, I’m not leaving you.” She kissed me quickly and strode to her car en route to her apartment to dress for work. I closed up the house, placed my briefcase in the passenger seat, and drove the twenty minutes to the office.
Brad Elkins was waiting for me. “Great to have you back, sir.” I shook his hand and sat at the security desk to sign for a new building key, elevator card, and new office keys. Dana had taken mine so new locks were needed to maintain security. Once done I walked confidently to the elevator, pressed “9” and sped up to the executive floor.

The building was always quiet when I reported to work. Everyone was expected by nine although many arrived closer to 8:30. I always arrived before 8:00. I sifted through the mountain of mail, dumping all the junk as I always did. I attached post-its to some of the important ones and shifted to my email. I was pleased to see that Dana had not been able to crack my password. Most of these were internal memos and, since I’d been away from work for roughly six months, there were plenty to read through. Some were obvious or “pro forma” notes that were obvious once I had read the title. I forwarded them to Rita for filing. Finally, I reviewed my calendar for the day; I was going to be busy.

The day flew by with Rita acting as a cop directing the traffic in and out of the office. I asked her to order lunch for the two of us. She looked at me questioningly. “Don’t worry–we’ll have plenty of work to do.” She turned away just as my next appointment arrived.

We finally got around to lunch; chef’s salads for both of us, mine with bleu cheese dressing and Rita’s with Italian. I pulled two Pepsi’s from my wet bar and we relaxed for the first time all day. “God, I miss you.”

Her eyes sparkled as she replied, “I am right here, you know.”

“Yes, but you know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do and I can hardly wait for tonight.” I leaned over across the table to kiss her then I dug into the salad, eating quickly. Rita was entitled to an hour’s lunch, but I rarely had that much time. Today was no exception, especially after being away so long. I was back to work by 12:20; Rita joined me ten minutes later. We finished at six that evening and she joined me at home by 6:30. Rita checked on two potatoes in the oven to bake on the timer while I seasoned a big ribeye and started the grill. I’d done all the cooking—all three meals—the entire time of my slavery. We sat down to eat at seven and I had cleared the table and cleaned the kitchen by 7:40. Rita helped me to prepare for the detective. He was prompt, arriving just before eight. We sat at the dining room table. If he was surprised to see Rita he kept his mouth closed. Brett Lawrence was a top private detective. The file he pushed across the table proved that. Inside was a complete history of Dana’s infidelity. There were dozens and dozens of receipts, still photos taken by hallway security cameras, and notarized statements from hotel employees. Dana had done nothing to hide her activities.

He left at nine with a check for the rest of his $30,000 fee. Rita and I retired for the night. I chuckled at the thought that my libido would increase once my hormone replacement therapy had begun. I didn’t think that was possible. We spent more than an hour touching and kissing each other, my trepidation about my body long gone over the weekend.

I loved the feel of Rita’s body—soft smooth skin over firm muscles. Her breasts, though small were incredibly sensitive. A mere touch of her areolas and nipples was enough to make her thoroughly wet and hot. I rolled her onto her side facing away from me and lifted her leg, placing it gently over my hip. Her hot cunt was open now, ready for my assault. Slowly I plunged into her, not stopping until I was deep within her core. Rita shuddered with delight at my onslaught. I pushed into her for several minutes before pulling her body onto mine. She rose up into reverse cowgirl to ride me like a wild mustang. When she leaned back I pinched her clit to bring her rapidly over the edge. She collapsed onto my body as I came—a dry orgasm with no ejaculation. This was something I’d have to get used to. I turned Rita over, pulled the blanket over us, and we drifted off to sleep. Rita whispered in my ear, “I love you, Martin,” just before she fell asleep. She never heard my reply—the first time I’d ever said the words to her.

Tuesday was a repeat of Monday until 1:30 when Dave Barney arrived. I shared one of the thick files from Brett Lawrence with him. “Hmmm…Lawrence, eh? Good choice; they’re really thorough.” He spent twenty minutes checking through everything then I explained why I wanted the divorce. “You realize, don’t you, what a media nightmare this will become?”

“Of course, Dave, but I think I have a way around that. The police tell me that the case will go to the grand jury next Monday. I’ll have to testify and I suspect they’ll have no difficulty indicting. That’s when the press will get involved. They’ll hound me for interviews, but I plan to handle all of that right here—all of them at once—in the Board Room. By the time the divorce becomes public it will be old news.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you—why do you have a Board Room when you have no board?”

What am I going to call it—the conference room? That sounds kind of like high school. I’ve given some thought to going public, even to stepping down. This episode with Dana had given me a lot to think about, but that’s in the future. Let’s deal with the here and now.”

Dave went over everything, finishing by asking, “Have you heard anything from Dana?”

“Not a peep,” I replied then I told him about the check. “I’ve even left her credit cards alone at the police’s request. I have no idea where she’s getting money from, but she hasn’t yet touched either.” The truth was that I had shredded her cards, placing the tiny pieces into a plastic bag and dumping them in a strip mall about a mile from home. We finished up and I decided to take the rest of the day off. It was almost five anyway. I told my secretaries to leave then also. I wanted Rita home with me.

Wednesday dragged as I waited patiently for the appointment with the urologist. Finally, Rita walked into a meeting at 3:30 to remind me of the appointment. I asked her to join me and to bring her pad. I told her that she could take a cab back for her car later once we were done. Of course, that was just for appearances. Rita would ride with me, stay with me, and go to dinner with me before returning home to spend the night. I’d asked Elkins to run an errand for me this morning. It would be a surprise for later.

Rita gave me directions and twenty minutes later I pulled into the parking lot. Nassau Urology, the sign said. Among the list of doctors was the name Brian Mullin. We walked in and I gave my insurance card to the receptionist. Then I sat to complete the five pages of forms. I was about to write when Rita whispered, “Duh,” and handed me a pile of already completed pages ready for my signature. I signed and returned the typed pages to the startled receptionist.
Rita and I sat for only a few minutes before being called by a nurse. I was weighed and my vital signs taken before being led to an exam room. The nurse gave me a hospital gown then left. Rita helped me and before long I was feeling the cold air conditioning running up my butt. “We’ll have to get some of them for you. You have a cute little butt!”

“Ha ha,” I said as I sat on the cold vinyl chair. I was silent—nervous—until Rita took my hand. She was holding it when a tall slender man entered. Rita rose and hugged him before turning to introduce us. “Brian, this is my boss—Martin Bellamy; Martin, my brother-in-law, Brian.” I rose to take his hand.

“Okay, Martin—tell me about your accident.”

“Well, to begin with it was no accident. I was tortured, my testicles crushed over a week until they were mush.” I went on to describe how Dana and her lover—no name—had tried to make me their slave so they could steal my business.

“Is it worth all that much?”

“Yeah, probably about six to seven billion.” His jaw dropped.

Finally, he recovered and asked me to sit up on the exam table so he could examine me. “I can see you’re an honest man, Mr. Bellamy. The skin shows signs of compression—plenty of tiny tears and rough edges where the testicles were forced through with tremendous pressure. Have you tried to have sex since this happened?”

Rita answered before I could, “Yes, Brian—he can and does perform well.” I never thought I’d see a doctor embarrassed. His face was red as could be. Rita took the time to give me a brief kiss.

“Does this mean we can expect you at Thanksgiving?”

“Sure,” I replied as Rita laughed. “I like dark meat.”

“Good, you’ll be the only one. We usually throw it out.”

“Put that in my calendar, will you please, Rita?” She laughed again, shaking her head in mock disgust. Dr. Mullin had finished his exam and began to describe the treatment alternatives.

“It’s good that you can get an erection and have an orgasm. Had any dry ones?” He continued when I had nodded, “That’s typical for castration victims. Sometimes you’ll have an ejaculation. It will be clear—fluid produced by the prostate. It tastes just like regular semen, or so I’ve read, but obviously has no sperm. Essentially, there are three types of HRT—hormone replacement therapies. First are tablets. They’re better for someone who has some testicular function, so they’re not the best choice for someone like you. Next are gels that you would rub into your chest and shoulders every day. Examples are Androgel and Testim. They would be better for you, but you’d have to use a lot, so much that your skin would be as dry as parchment. Also, there’s a real chance that it could transfer to Rita if she touched you anywhere on your shoulders. I think the best option would be injections—testosterone cypionate would be the generic and there’s absolutely no difference between that and the brand—Depo-Testosterone. I’ll take a blood sample even though I know what it will say because the insurance companies all require it. I’ll start you on one shot every five days.”

“Can I do it myself, Doctor? I don’t think I could get away from work that often and what would I do on weekends?”

“I don’t recommend you doing it to yourself. The injections will take a long time because there’s a lot and the liquid is viscous—thick. It has to be injected slowly.”

“Can you show me, Brian? I’ll do it for you, Martin, besides this way I’ll get to see that cute butt.” We all shared a laugh and agreed; Dr. Brian showed Rita how to load the syringe and press it into my butt. She pressed the plunger slowly. It took her almost five minutes to complete the task. Dr. Brian approved.

“There’s one other thing we should discuss. I don’t normally recommend this, but in your case I will. He wrote on a slip of paper then handed it to me. “I’m going to refer you to my friend Justin Bradley. He’s a surgeon. He’ll speak to you about prosthetics.” He continued once I had gained control of myself. “Yes, Martin—there are fake balls made of a variety of materials and in several sizes, too. Rita tells me you’re an active man so there’s a chance you’ll be in a locker room with other men. This could save you a ton of embarrassment.” Rita was right—Dr. Brian was a great doctor. I liked him a lot.

He wrote a prescription for six bottles—enough for a month of testosterone injections, hugged Rita, and sent us out to pay the bill. I drove us to my neighborhood pharmacy and waited for it to be filled.

“Mr. Bellamy, uh…your insurance has denied the prescription. They say it’s excessive.”

“Interesting…they know my condition better than my doctor. Okay, I’ll pay the full amount and work with them tomorrow.” The bill was exorbitant—good thing I was rich. I took Rita out to eat, handing her the small envelope with six numbers on it once we had ordered drinks.

She looked at it for almost a minute before raising her head. “What does this mean, Martin?”

“It means I want you to move in. I need you…and I love you. When Dana began to torture me she played a little game with me, claiming I was cheating on her…with you. I wasn’t and I wouldn’t, but now that I have you I don’t want to let you go besides, in addition to having an even nicer butt than I have I need you to stick needles into it.” I took her hand and held it to my cheek. Rita closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She smiled when she opened them then she clutched the key to her chest. She didn’t have to speak—the tears in her eyes said it all.

We rushed into the house, dropping our clothes on the floor and stairs as we ran to the bed. We were probably filthy after a long day at work, but we didn’t care. We held each other, rubbing against each other until Rita moved down my body to take me into her mouth. “Don’t Rita, I’m sure I smell something awful after all the stress I’ve faced today.”

“We’re not at work; you can’t order me around.” Then she gave me a huge smile. “And even if you could, I’m not going to pay attention. You can do me if you want. Then we’ll be even.” She turned her body so my mouth was just under her delightful naked pussy. She spoke when she was in position. “We’ll need to something with all this hair, especially if you want me to do this again.’’ Then my cock disappeared down her throat. What a marvel Rita was. My sex life was dead until she walked in.

Rita wrapped her tongue around my organ washing it with her mouth. It was the most exquisite feeling, one I’d never tire of. My tongue reached up to tickle her labia; Rita groaned in response. The broad of my tongue licked from her clit to her sweet rosebud as Rita squirmed under my efforts. My fingers gently spread her lips exposing her pink tunnel. I penetrated her with the tip of my tongue, tasting her for the first time. I hardened it so it could rub into her G-spot. I knew instantly when I was successful. Her abdomen jumped from my body in an involuntary reflex.

We were working each other strongly, on a collision course that ended much too soon, but with two beautifully intense orgasms. We could barely move so we lay there breathing deeply and slowly with Rita’s pussy dripping onto my chest. Finally, just after eleven Rita rose, pulling me up with her to the shower. Luckily, it was big enough for two. She pushed me in then opened a drawer, taking a razor and aerosol can of shaving soap in her hand.

She washed me lovingly then turned my back to the spray. Kneeling before me she applied the soap to my groin and my empty sac. A minute later I was bald and we had changed positions. It was with the utmost care that I applied the razor to her. We stepped together from the shower, dried each other, brushed our teeth, and climbed naked into the bed. We had slept like this every night and would in the future unless one of us was ill.

Rita injected me again on Monday afternoon. That morning I had been summoned to the grand jury. I was sworn in and asked to tell the entire story of my torture. I began with the Friday evening, the strange tasting stew and awakening naked and chained in the root cellar. I had to explain then about the house—how it had been a farmhouse years ago and how my wife and I had renovated it, leaving the dank root cellar untouched, mostly because it was at the far end of the basement and we didn’t need the space. I cringed when I saw the white box, but calmed down when asked to describe how it worked. The questioning went on for more than an hour then I was excused. The DA accompanied me to the hall. “You did an excellent job in there, Mr. Bellamy. I’m positive there will be an indictment and warrants for their arrest. There is one downside—the press will be all over it in a second. Expect to be pestered for weeks.”

Everything came out by Thursday and Rita took dozens of calls requesting an interview. I scheduled a meeting for the Board Room Friday afternoon at 3:00. There were representatives from Newsday, Long Island’s primary newspaper, as well as the three major papers from New York City—the Daily News, the Post, and the Times. There were also journalists from the major TV stations. Each was required to sign an agreement that they would leave me alone after this meeting. Several balked, but did finally agree once they were threatened with removal. Brad Elkins was a force to be reckoned with.

Sitting next to Dave Barney I read my prepared statement. “I’m Martin Bellamy, sole owner of Bellamy Investments. I walked into my home late on Friday, February 7th. My wife, Dana, gave me a new recipe for stew for dinner. It was drugged and when I woke up I was naked and chained in the house’s root cellar. I won’t go into the specifics, but she and her lover tortured me for a week, causing me to be in constant and unremitting pain the entire time. I was fed by a tube forced down my throat and I was washed off daily with a cold hose which removed my wastes to the cesspool below.

“My wife’s lover was a psychiatrist and this treatment was designed to not only cause me terrible constant pain, but to wash away my ability to think and reason. I had no conscious thought when she released me a week later to be her mindless slave. I lived in a cage in the basement with a cold shower and a combo sink/toilet. I slept on a simple cot with only a thin blanket and a well-worn pillow. I dressed only in a pink blouse and tight spandex shorts like these as I held both items up to be seen. I had black canvas slip-ons for my feet.

“During the day I did all the housework, laundry, and cooking. At night I was either placed back into my cell or required to watch them have sexual relations and clean up their organs orally once they were done. My brain had been washed clean so I had no social or religious objections. I just did what I was told.

“My wife has always talked too much. She couldn’t resist verbal jabs at me, telling me how much I had fallen from my status as a financial genius—her words—and every time she did I felt a small spark in my brain. Finally, on the day she planned to sell my business all my consciousness came back in a massive flood. I was able to get some money from my home office, buy some real clothes, and get a haircut,” I ran my hand through my half-inch head stubble. “and,” I continued, “get here to this room before the sale was completed. My wife was captured and I dumped her on the root cellar floor. Later I captured her boyfriend and put him there, too. I let them go on Sunday morning along with a check for five million dollars.” I sat back, finished with the statement while I waited for questions.

I answered everything except questions about the nature of my torture. Rita walked in twenty minutes later, exactly as we planned, and I excused myself to return to work.

I thought everything was back to normal—actually better than normal now that the divorce was underway and Rita was living with me. The massive doses of testosterone had done wonders for my libido. Being with Rita didn’t hurt either. Then Clark Roberts asked to see me. Clark was Director of Human Resources.
“Sorry to take up your time, sir, but I have to report a violation of the non-fraternization rules.”

“Hmm, may I ask who you suspect?”

“I’m sorry to say I believe it’s your secretary, Rita Spano, although I don’t know who the other party is. I do know that she hasn’t been to her apartment in more than a week.”

“How would you know that?”

“I’ve had it under surveillance, sir. I feel it’s part of my job.” I reacted physically with a jerk of my head, but remained silent.

Using the intercom I summoned Rita to me. “Bring your pad, will you please?” I spoke again once Rita was standing in front of the desk. I winked with the eye facing away from Clark then addressed her formally. “Rita, Mr. Roberts has accused you of violating the firm’s non-fraternization rules.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” she replied, “it’s true.”

“Please tell Mr. Roberts the name of the person.”

She turned to face Clark. “It’s…,” she waited almost a minute, her eyes down in apparent embarrassment, before continuing, “Martin Bellamy!” The look on Clark’s face was priceless and it only got better when I pulled Rita onto my lap.

“Okay, back to work—take a memo. To: All Staff; Re: Non-Fraternization Rules: After some consideration I have decided that this rule is pointless and possibly
counter-productive. Therefore, I am rescinding it effective immediately. (Paragraph) The removal of this rule requires that the rules against sexual harassment be strengthened. Any employee determined to be involved in sexual harassment of any other employee shall be dismissed immediately.

“Okay, next memo: To: Payroll; Re: Resignation of Clark Roberts: Mr. Roberts resignation as Director of Human Resources is effective immediately. He is to receive three months salary and a severance of $50,000 in addition to full benefits for the next twelve months.”

“But, I’m not resigning. Why would I?”

“To avoid being fired, obviously; when did I ever ask you to spy on our employees? People have a right to personal privacy and spying on them is a horrible, repulsive thing to do. I accept your resignation. It’s either that or you’re fired and you’ll get nothing. Sit down and shut up. Comfortable, darling,” I asked my wonderful Rita, my arm around her waist.

“Yes, never better; are you done?”

“Not quite…next memo: To: Director of Human Resources; Re: Advertise for Secretarial Position; Please advertise immediately for a qualified secretary to replace Rita Spano.” She gave me an incredulous look. It was about to get better.

“You’re excused, Clark.” I reached for the phone, calling for Security. “Elkins, Mr. Roberts is leaving us immediately. Please see to it that he returns all keys and his elevator card. Also make sure he doesn’t take any company property with him.” I waited for his response and ended the call.

“One more memo,” I said as I reached up to kiss her cheek. She was still startled that she was being replaced. “To: Payroll; Re: Replacement of Director of Human Resources; Effective immediately Rita Spano will assume the position of Director of Human Resources at a salary of $150,000 and with the same benefits enjoyed by her predecessor.

“Congratulations, my love.” I turned her startled head and kissed her.

“You know…I didn’t do this for money.”

“I know…you did it for love. Don’t you want the job? Just think how you’ll be able to brag to your sister, the doctor’s wife.” Rita laughed. “Seriously, if you don’t want the job just do the two memos…unless you’re holding out for more money.” I laughed and then she joined me again before kissing me with passion. “Let’s go to celebrate over lunch then let’s take the afternoon off and go to bed.”

Rita laughed before responding, “Okay.”

“Okay to what?”

“Everything…I accept the job and the lunch and the afternoon of play, but expect my replacement to be over sixty…and fat…and a grandmother.”

I laughed and couldn’t stop. “Take care of the memos and I’ll sign then we’re out of here.” She hopped off my lap and was out the door a few seconds later. I saw Elkins walking, a determined look on his face as he strode to Human Resources. I knew Roberts would be out the door shortly.

Rita had all four memos done fifteen minutes later. I kissed her after signing each memo even though the door was open and I knew there would be talk. There’d be even more when I strolled out with Rita on my arm. “Be sure to update your address with HR when you go down there tomorrow morning. I’m sure you’ll want to redecorate your new office. I’ll give you a $20,000 budget.”

“Only twenty,” she asked–a wry smile on her face.

“Okay…whatever you need.”

“You would do anything for me, wouldn’t you? Twenty is too much. I’ll let you know what I need when I treat to lunch tomorrow.” She kissed me and returned to her desk to email the memos to the appropriate offices. As promised we were out the door at 11:50. I let everyone know that we’d be back tomorrow morning. There were a number of shocked faces in response.

CHAPTER 5

Time flew and soon it was November. I was in conference with the new (and very successful) Director of Human Resources and the woman we’d selected to replace my ex-secretary. As promised, she was 61, forty pounds overweight, and a grandmother of seven. On the positive side she had excellent experience and even better skills. I was happy; Rita was happier. She had just left to resume her duties when I spoke to Rita about her. “You do realize, don’t you, that you could have sent me Miss America and I’d still be completely yours.”

“Yes, Martin, but why tempt fate? Selma is a very capable secretary. That’s all you really need.”

“No, I really need you.” I kissed her and returned to my office.

Selma was already there dealing with my mail when the phone rang. “Mr. Bellamy…it’s the police!” I took the call in my office.

“Martin Bellamy here.”

“Detective Serrano, Mr. Bellamy; we finally found your wife’s car.”

“Where? Did you find her, too?”

“No, just the car, but it tells us a lot about why nobody’s seen her in months. The car was under a stand of tall pines up north in the State Forest Preserve. Know where that is?”

“I think so; I think my dad used to take me up that way to hunt and fish. You can’t do that now, can you?”

“No, the area is all protected now; looks like they took a wrong turn in the dark and ran over a rock. It tore out the oil pan. We found some slippers like the ones they made you wear about a half mile up the trail to the woods. So far there’s no sign of them, but we’ll keep looking. Incidentally, your dad did take you up into the area, but not there. He told us he took you to a lake about ten miles away.” We chatted for a while then I told him how much I appreciated his thoroughness. “We always have to check on everything and everyone. Please don’t be insulted.” I told him I wasn’t and ended the call to attend a meeting with the fund managers for the Bellamy New York Municipal Bond Fund. It was one of 14 funds run from this office. It was our newest fund and I thought it would be very successful.

I was a long-time believer in no-load funds—mutual funds sold with no commission either at purchase or redemption. Because of that we did a lot of business online or by telephone, but none with the big brokerage houses. Even at one percent annually our commissions earned more than eight hundred million a year. After expenses I had cleared almost 500 million, taking about a hundred million in compensation annually over the past five years and donating roughly ninety-five percent to charity. Almost all of the rest went back into the business.

I’d been to two hearings in regard to my pending divorce. Dave was pretty sure that it would come to a screeching halt fairly soon. So far it seemed that the judge was waiting to see if Dana would show up to defend herself although recent information from the police seemed to indicate that she wouldn’t. Then, a week before Thanksgiving I received the call I’d been expecting. Once again it was Detective Serrano. “Sorry to tell you this, but we think we’ve found your wife and her boyfriend.”

“What do you mean ‘think,’ Detective?” I tried to sound sincere.

“We found some bones…some skeletons–or most of them anyway. One is definitely a female—we can tell from the hips–the other’s a male. We still have to run the DNA. That will come back from the lab in another week or so. We have a line on an old man who was supposedly living in the woods here. He was picked up hitchhiking by one of the locals. We’ve traced him down to the interstate, but lost him there. We’ll find up soon once we have a chance to check with the truckers who make this run regularly.” I wished him well.

I decided to close the office for the long Thanksgiving weekend. There wasn’t much business then and I was looking forward to meeting Rita’s family and I was looking forward to something else even more.

We slept in Thanksgiving morning after a hectic week and a half. Rita was in her usual place—head on my left shoulder and her left leg over my thigh—when she woke. She was rubbing her eyes and yawning when I spoke, “Morning, sleepyhead…happy Thanksgiving. What are you thankful for this fine day?”

“You, silly—you know that. What are you thankful for?”

“I’ll show you if you let me up a second.” She slid off me and I rolled off the bed. Kneeling, I reached under the bed for the box I’d placed there last night. I remained on one knee while I took her hand in mine. “I hope you know how much I love you. I was truly dead—worse than dead–until you came into my life.” She gasped as she saw the small square blue velvet box in one hand while I opened it and removed the ring. “I love you more than life itself, Rita. Will you marry me?”

Her response was to pull me to her for the kiss of a lifetime—it went on and on– then she held her hand out and I placed the three carat solitaire onto her shaking finger. Once there she looked at it for almost a minute before pulling me into yet another fantastic kiss, her tongue half-way down my throat. Rita hustled us into the bathroom to relieve ourselves then it was back to bed.

She fondled my sac, rubbing the recently acquired prosthetics. There was no pleasure as there was rubbing a real set of balls, but her soft touch felt good on my sensitive skin. That, plus my active imagination, made me hard in a millisecond. I lifted Rita onto my body as she giggled, rubbing her hot wet slit over my organ. Dr. Brian was certainly right—my libido had come back big time once my testosterone level was back to normal. Truth was—I had more of a sex drive now than I’d had in years, probably because of my incredible partner. Now I was reacting to Rita’s stimulation. She was driving me crazy with lust and love. “Is this what’s going to happen now that we’re engaged? Teasing, but no sex?”

“You know better, don’t you? I just love the sensation of your cock inside me.” As if to prove the point she rose, gripped me with one hand and slid down my shaft. I groaned in rapture as my cock disappeared into Rita’s slender body. She gripped my head. My hair was almost back to normal; I could part it now that Stan had been able to style and shape it a bit. We rocked together slowly for more than ten minutes. Neither of us was trying to cum; we were just warming each other up—showing how much we loved each other. It was something we had discovered months ago one evening when we were both too tired to have an orgasm, but were still desirous of each other—wanting to enjoy the feeling of true togetherness, of being united as one.

Rita looked up into my eyes, mouthed the words, “I love you,” and went wild on my cock. She bent it back and forth in directions I could only dream about. Suddenly her eyes rolled back in her head and I knew she was gone. She shook like a palm tree in a hurricane. I lowered her carefully onto my chest, holding and caressing her body. “Why didn’t you cum,” she whispered.

Laughing, I responded, “Because I’m not Superman. I’m old, you know, and you did some number on me last night. Besides, this way I’ll be back for more tonight.” I squeezed her ass cheeks and she squealed. A few minutes later she pulled me into the shower. We dressed in preparation for the holiday then relaxed in front of the TV until one in the afternoon. Carrying the five pounds of premium extra large shrimp I’d bought on special order from the fish market and the homemade cocktail sauce that were our contribution to the Thanksgiving feast, I drove the fifteen miles to her sister’s house.

CHAPTER 6

Brian greeted us at the door with a handshake for me and a hug for Rita. She carried the platter loaded with shrimp to the kitchen. A minute later I heard a shriek and an older and slightly shorter version of Rita ran out to hug and kiss me. “I’m Sara…congratulations. Did you see Rita’s ring, Brian? It’s beautiful.”

Rita returned; she was beaming as she led me into the living room to meet her parents. Her dad was a retired carpenter. Like Rita he was tall and thin with a full head of silver hair. Her mother was shorter, but I could easily see where Rita had gotten her good looks. Her mother was striking, with a good figure even in her sixties. “Tell us about yourself, will you Martin?”

“Let me see…I was born here on the Island and grew up in Great Neck,” I began. “My parents are retired now, living in Naples, Florida. Dad was a banker. I enjoyed sports as a kid, but was never good enough to make any of the teams. Instead, I was in the drama club, both in high school and in college. I graduated from Penn with a degree in Finance and I stayed there to attend Wharton for my MBA. I started out as a trader for one of the big brokerage firms. I learned a lot and when I thought I had enough money I left to open my own hedge fund. It was so successful that I began several other funds using my profits to build the company. I’ll be 39 in another three weeks and I’m the sole owner of Bellamy Investments. Unlike the big investment houses I believe in true personal service. That’s been the keystone of my success. I have 148 excellent employees thanks to my outstanding Director of Human Resources.” I paused to squeeze Rita’s hand. “We have fourteen very successful mutual funds that cover a broad spectrum of investments with roughly eighty billion invested. I was married and I may still be—I don’t really know. The cops have found two skeletons upstate and she may be one of them. I hope to marry Rita as soon as humanly possible. She’s been my savior. I couldn’t get through the day without her.” I would have continued, but Rita chose that very moment to engage me in a long hot kiss much to the amusement of her two young nieces and nephew.

My face was red when she finally broke it. “Uh…we brought shrimp,” was all I could think of to say as everyone laughed, including me. I enjoyed the day, the company, the food, and especially all the dark meat I could eat. After dinner I sat on the floor to read to Rita’s nieces—five and three, respectively. Each sat on one of my thighs as I opened their favorite book—Babar. I’d read a section then show them the pictures. They were hugging me by the time I finished. Rita sat behind me on the couch, running her fingers through my hair and massaging my neck as I opened another book. Fortunately, it was bedtime when I was done. “Thank you, Uncle Martin. Can we call you that?”

“I think that would be perfect, Moira. Thank you.” I hugged her and then her sister, Marie, and they toddled off already yawning. Turning to Rita I commented, “See that? I have that effect on women; I put them right to sleep.”

Rita laughed and then her mom joined her. “Somehow, Martin, I think most women would have something else on their minds before finally actually going to sleep.” My future mother-in-law laughed as Rita turned the most delightful shade of red. I managed to change the subject to football—we had watched the Lions lose for what seemed to be the hundredth straight Thanksgiving game earlier.

My future father-in-law spoke once the kids were all in bed. “We read the papers and watch TV, Martin. We know your wife tortured you. Are you okay emotionally and physically?”

“Daddy!”

“No, that’s okay, Rita—your parents have a right to make sure you’re going to be treated right.”

“Martin, I’m twenty-five and I’ve been living on my own for four years. I can make my own decisions. There’s nothing wrong with Martin, Daddy. I will admit he was a mess when I decided to help him recover, but he’s absolutely wonderful now.”

“Can I ask about something else? Is Rita really in charge of your Human Resources department? Is she really making all that money? It’s hard to believe she’s qualified.”

“Well, apparently I have more faith in her than you do. The answer to both your questions is ‘yes’ and she’s done an outstanding job. Think it’s easy to find a secretary for me who’s in her sixties, forty pounds overweight, and a grandmother?” Everyone laughed, exactly as I intended. Rita’s family needed to lighten up.

“One more question, if I may—you give the impression of being fairly wealthy….”

“DADDY!!”

I reached over to kiss Rita’s cheek. “Once again, it’s quite all right. My soon to be ex-wife who knows nothing about business almost sold Bellamy Investments for two point four billion. In reality it’s worth roughly three times that.” He must have been satisfied—he sat there for more than a minute with his mouth hanging open.

We returned to the table an hour later for dessert; I thought the food would never end. We left at eleven and were back home by 11:30. Det. Serrano was there waiting for us. “They make you work on Thanksgiving?”

“I’m only here to deliver some bad news, Mr. Bellamy. The DNA testing was sent to us late last night. One of the skeletons they found was your wife. We assume the other was Dr. Spengler. We should get his DNA results in a few days.”

I had no visible reaction. “To be honest, Detective, I really don’t care. After the way she tortured me my only prayer is that she suffered before she died. I know that seems harsh, but how would you feel if she crushed your balls, made you a mindless slave, and tried to steal everything you ever worked for? Oh yeah, then there was the issue of her adultery.”

“What do you want done with the remains?”

“Me? Nothing—perhaps you should contact her parents.”

“We have; they’ve read the news stories about her and they’re disgusted. They want nothing to do with her, even now that she’s deceased.”

“Then have the remains cremated. I’ll pay for her, but nothing for him. The mortuary can dispose of the ashes as they see fit.”

“Just so you know…the lab found teeth marks on the bones. It looks like coyotes.”

“In New York? I thought they were only in the west.”

“No…we have them all throughout the state, fishers, too. Fishers are related to the weasel and they can be really vicious. We don’t know for sure if they were dead first or if they were attacked and killed. Coyotes are usually afraid of people, but we don’t know what condition they were in after being out in the woods. They could have been suffering from exposure or dehydration. We just don’t know and I doubt we ever will. The whole mess is just a shame.” I couldn’t disagree. After shaking his hand and saying good-bye we walked into the house.

“Do you like this house, Rita? I wouldn’t mind selling it. I can’t stand going into the basement and seeing the cell and the root cellar.”

“I do like it, Martin. This house has character and it’s big enough for a family. Yes…I would love to have children. I don’t know how yet, but I’d enjoy being a mother. I think you should phone a contractor tomorrow and have the root cellar sealed up. Then you should have that cell and everything in it removed and destroyed. I think that will help you put all of this behind you.” Like I had told Rita’s family—she was my savior once again.

I did as Rita suggested and within a week the root cellar was gone, not only sealed with reinforced concrete at the entrance, but filled completely with soil. The bars from the cell were removed as were the shower and other plumbing, although we did decide to use the connections for something else. The walls were covered with sheetrock and wooden paneling and the floor covered with colorful vinyl tiles. A suspended ceiling composed of two by four panels of white fiberglass and fluorescent lighting finished the job. We had a recreation area complete with a good pool table, foosball, and ping pong in addition to a relaxing sitting area complete with an eighty-five inch ultra HD flat screen TV. Rita suggested a bar and refrigerator for soda, wine, and beer and–as usual–her suggestions were right on target. The plumbing connections were put to good use. We invited her family to visit once the job was done—a New Years Eve party and a great time for all.

Rita and I showered and retired to bed naked as usual Thanksgiving night. I had another surprise for her. She shifted around on her pillow before settling in on my shoulder. “What is wrong with this thing? All of a sudden it’s lumpy.”

I turned on the light. “Maybe it needs to be fluffed.” She looked at me as though I was crazy, but picked it up to shake it.

She saw the wrapped box I’d placed under it and gave me a look before asking, “What’s this?” I remained mum with a smile as she took it into her hands. Sitting up, she climbed onto my chest and began to remove the silver foil. “Oh my God! I don’t believe it!”

“Why not? You’re worth much more than that to me.” Her hands were visibly shaking as she removed the diamond necklace from the box. I helped her fasten it around her neck. She turned on the overhead light and stepped to the mirror then she walked into the bathroom where the light is even better.

“We’re going back to my sister’s tomorrow and then we’re driving to visit my parents. They’re not going to believe this. I have two questions and I expect the truth from you. When did you buy this—and the ring, too—and how much did this cost?”

“You do realize that it’s bad form to ask how much a gift costs.” She gave me a steely stare that told me I’d better answer. “Okay, remember a week ago when I had to meet with the attorneys in the city…the SEC compliance issues? Their offices are on the corner of Park Avenue and 46th just a block or two from the diamond district. I used a few of the jewelers there in the past so I phoned them Monday morning to tell them what I was looking for. When we broke for lunch I walked over and shopped for an hour. I bought your ring from one shop and the necklace from the other. Your ring cost $60,000; the necklace a bit more.” She gave me that look again so I continued, “Three hundred…you’ll find matching earrings in my top drawer.” She jumped up, opened the drawer, and practically ran to the bathroom, returning a few minutes later with the earrings securely in place.

“I love you, Martin, but I’d be afraid to wear these anyplace. I’d be afraid I’d lose them or they’d be stolen.”

“That’s why the earrings screw on instead of those clips most pierced earrings have and–not to worry—they’re insured. We’ll go to the ballet and the opera at the Met or Lincoln Center. I’ve always been involved in a lot of charitable causes so we’ll also attend any number of functions—balls, auctions, just about everything. There will be plenty of women wearing expensive jewelry, but none will be as beautiful as you. C’mon, I’m exhausted.” Rita removed her gifts, placing them back in their boxes and putting them on her dresser then she returned to me. She thanked me twice that night before we finally fell asleep and once again the following morning. I was still half-asleep when she dragged me from the bed.

“C’mon, Martin I want to show off my new necklace.”

“I don’t want an argument, but I think it’s a bad idea. Showing off is never a good thing. You can invite everyone for Christmas and you can wear them then. Plus, you can give everyone a pile of presents—especially those cute kids. Why don’t we talk about our wedding instead?”

We did; I didn’t care what kind of wedding we had just as long as we were officially married. However, I knew how important a wedding could be to most women. Rita wasn’t most women, though. She wanted us to be hitched and how didn’t really matter. We decided on the Friday before Christmas—just three weeks away. We drove to the village hall for a license just before one, completed the form and paid the fee. Det. Serrano was in our driveway when we returned. I invited him into the house.

“Just a couple of questions, Mr. Bellamy: You were in a bar—the Rose Tavern—the Sunday evening after your wife took off. How’d you get there?”

“I walked. After she left I bolted the door and went to bed. I stayed there until Sunday evening. I hadn’t eaten a thing, but I was used to that—I rarely ate when I was a slave. That’s why I lost more than thirty pounds. I was restless so I walked and walked, paying no attention to where I was going until I looked up and saw that bar then I just wanted to get drunk.”

“You did a good job. The bartender said you could barely walk out the door.”

“Yeah, I paid for it the next morning. I’m not much of a drinker—next question?”

“You seem to have moved on pretty quickly.”

“When Dana first strung me up downstairs she accused me of cheating on her with Rita. It wasn’t true. I never had anything to do with Rita other than being her boss until she came to help me the Saturday morning a week after I kicked Dana out. I was completely lost and she helped me come back. What was I supposed to do—mourn over my marriage? That was dead the second Dana tightened that infernal box on my balls.”

He rose as if to leave then turned around. “One other thing…your fingerprints were all over the car when we found it.”

“No surprise there; I told you how I dumped the two of them in the root cellar. I drove that car on a few errands including getting a new wardrobe to replace the one that Dana gave away and picking up a pizza and some beer. I also packed Dana’s suitcases and loaded them in the car before putting the check in the back seat pocket. I’m sure my fingerprints are all over the tailgate and the back seat, too. I washed that car several times while I was a slave to Dana, vacuuming the interior and washing the windows. I’d be surprised if my DNA and fingerprints weren’t all over that car. Anything else? Surely you believe that she tortured me.”

“Yeah, I do, but I have to tie up all the loose ends. No offense intended.”

“None taken, Detective; I don’t envy you your job.” I shook hands with him and I walked him out the door. I never saw him again. Returning to the house I led Rita up to the bedroom. We turned in a few minutes later and I was asleep the second my head hit the pillow. I loved Rita, but she wore me out last night.
The following morning she asked me what Christmas decorations we had. “None,” was my reply. “Dana was an atheist. She hated Christmas.”

“Then get your most comfortable shoes on; we’re going shopping. Oh yeah…don’t dress too warmly; the stores are usually hot.” She kissed me then ran up the stairs to the bedroom. I followed, but walking. She led me out the door thirty minutes later. I let Rita drive; it was easier and–believe me–by the end of the day she had worn me out—even worse than the night she had made love to me over and over. That was a Thanksgiving I’d never forget.

She bought an eight-foot artificial tree I could barely lift and about $500 worth of ornaments and decorations. We bought several wreathes, exterior lights for both the house and the trees in the front yard. I was going to have a busy few days.

We rose early the next day and I almost fainted when I saw all the bags and boxes in the front hall. I dressed warmly and began to install the decorations. The wreathes were easy—simple over-the-door hangers—and they were done. The lights were something else. First I had to figure out where everything was going and then I had to figure out how to do it. On the positive side Rita was there with me every step of the way. My hands were freezing by noon. Rita must have seen how I was rubbing my hands. I thought she might take me inside, but she had a better idea. “Your hands look cold, Martin; let me warm them for you.”

Standing in front and facing me she took each of my hands and slid them inside her slacks so that each hand had its own ass cheek warmer. “Hmmm…nice; I think I should do this more often. I could stay like this all day.”

“Sorry,” she said with a laugh, “you have to get back to work.” She kissed me quickly and hustled back into the warm house. I kept at it, somewhat surprised at how well it was going. Rita called me in for lunch around one. She sat me at the table and placed a bowl of hot vegetable beef soup and a big hunk of buttered Italian bread in front of me. I was all set to eat when Rita sat in my lap and proceeded to feed me.

“Interesting,” I told her with a kiss, “but I’ll never finish outside at this rate.” I kissed her again before I had an idea. “Why don’t you phone your sister and see if they’d like to join us for dinner. We could go to Gino’s. Their pizza was pretty good.” Rita jumped up to the phone, but gave me a big hug and kiss first. I could hear her and Sara chatting while I finished the soup.

“Great news…Sara’s tired of leftover turkey so she thought the pizza was a great idea. They’re coming here and they’ll pick up the pizza on the way.” Rita was so transparent; she was determined to show off her necklace. I’d paid just over $300,000 for it in a shop in the diamond district, transferring the money directly from one of my accounts. The same necklace with more than 40 carats of top quality diamonds would have cost double or more at Tiffany’s or Harry Winston’s. I returned to finish the exterior lights; Rita put out some of the decorations we’d bought for the living room. I was tired when I finished around three. Rita stripped me and led me to the bathroom. What a woman! She had filled the Jacuzzi. I climbed in, leaned back, and closed my eyes. I had been there less than five minutes when I felt a bare naked pussy push into my mouth.

“Aren’t you cold up there,” I whispered.

“A bit, but I’m sure you’ll warm me up.” That was Rita—right again! I covered her sweet cunt with my mouth and sucked for all I was worth. “Oooooo! Good start!” I laughed into her cunt as I sucked again, drawing hot blood into her groin. Moving to her core I began to nibble on her labia. “No fair—you know I can’t resist that.”

“I know…why do you think I do it?” I continued once Rita had begun to laugh. There was a time when I doubted I’d ever laugh again. Now it was a daily occurrence; just goes to show what love can do. Moving my tongue to her core I licked and sucked her tunnel, concentrating on her G-spot. I knew she’d cum and cum hard once I did that and she did not disappoint. I continued licking and sucking until I had wrung every last bit of that orgasm out of her then I gently lowered her into the tub, her back against my chest as my arms circled her waist. I nuzzled and kissed her neck and cheek as she slowly recovered from her sweet torture.

CHAPTER 7

Sara, Brian, and the three kids arrived just before six carrying two big pizza boxes. Rita placed them into the oven while I opened a couple of beers for Brian and me and some Sprites for the kids. We relaxed watching an NFL game; I could see Rita lead Sara up the stairs. They returned almost ten minutes later, Sara carrying the two boxes. She kissed my cheek before sitting next to Brian on the couch. “You have excellent taste, Martin. You’re a bit extravagant, but I can understand why Rita loves you. Tear yourself away for a minute, Brian. You have got to see these.”

She opened the box of earrings first. “Nice,” was Brian’s reaction. Then she opened the necklace box. “Holy shit–that probably cost more than I make in a year.”

Rita came in and sat in my lap just as I replied, “I doubt it. We’re glad you’re here. Can you get away Friday afternoon, the twentieth? That’s when we’re getting married.”

“It’s just going to be a small ceremony, Sara, but we’d like to have you and Brian involved as matron of honor and best man and we’d like Michael and Moira, too.”

“That’s an offer that’s too good to pass up,” Brian replied. “I’ll have my calendar cleared by noon.”

“Great…Moira…Michael, can Rita and I speak with you for a minute?” They turned away from the TV. “Aunt Rita and I would like you to be in our wedding. Moira, we’d like you to be the flower girl and Michael, we’d like you to be ring bearer.” I went on to explain their duties while Rita and Sara pulled the pizza boxes from the oven, bringing them to the living room where we’d already put the paper plates and some silverware. We ate around the coffee table having a great time. They left at 7:30 so the kids could get to bed—school tomorrow.

Rita and I walked outside to see them off. I hugged Maria and Michael before moving to Moira. “I like your decorations, Uncle Martin, but why don’t you have Frosty?”

“That’s a good question, Moira. I think Aunt Rita and I will have to get one tomorrow, okay?” She gave me her answer by hugging and kissing me before climbing into her car seat. We waved good-bye as Brian drove down the street. “Let’s go in and clean up. We can talk then, too.” I had yet another topic to discuss.

Rita warned me on the way to work, “Expect some yelling once my staff sees this ring. It’ll be all over the firm within ten minutes.”

“Less than that, I’d wager. What are you going to do?”

“Simple…I’ll call Sandra in to pick up a file and I’ll have my hand on top of it so she can’t miss seeing the ring. I’m so happy, Martin. Once I take care of that necessary business I’ll want to talk about our Christmas party.”

“We’ve never had a Christmas party.”

“I know…that’s why we should have one, although I don’t know if we can find a place to hold everyone. We also have to discuss the bonuses.” I nodded my agreement—we had a lot to do. Like most businesses in the financial arena the bulk of one’s earnings came in a year-end bonus, the amount in direct proportion to one’s success over the year. The clerical staff was an exception, although each of them would receive a suitable bonus, too. They made a significant contribution to the firm’s success and they deserved the recognition. This year there would be a little extra—sort of a wedding present in reverse.
We walked into the building just before eight, signing in with Elkins this beautiful morning. “Morning, sir…ma’am. Have a great day.”

“Thanks, Brad—how was your weekend?”

“Ate too much as usual; how was yours?”

“Unforgettable!” I took Rita’s hand and walked into the elevator. We shared a few minutes over coffee then I kissed her and we got down to business. Sure enough, it was just around nine when I heard a scream just down the hall where Rita had her office.

A red-faced and panting Sandra poked her head in a few seconds later. “Contrats, Mr. Bellamy; I wish you all the best. God knows you deserve it.” That’s how things went most of the morning until I closed the door for what everyone knew was the “bonus meeting.”

“Before we start I want everyone to get an extra thousand as a wedding present from us.”

“Aren’t the presents supposed to go to us?”

“Sure, but I’d feel terrible taking gifts from any of the employees. What do we need? I give most of my earnings away. How much does a person need, anyway?” We took care of the clericals first. All except the personal assistants and executive secretaries made between thirty-five and forty thousand in salary. They’d get a bonus of $10,000, plus $1,000 for our wedding. The salespeople were more time-consuming. We had to go through each of them individually. On average they’d receive $150,000 each although a few earned as much as $230,000. The fund managers were big money, between seventeen and twenty million each.

“Finally, we come to the Director of Human Resources. How does $250,000 sound?”

“Like it’s too much.”

“It’s not. Do you know how the staff felt about Clark Roberts? Basically, they thought he was a colossal ass. He was pompous and arrogant. I’d given serious thought to firing him even before he spied on you. Any idea what they think about you?”

“I hesitate to ask.”

“They love you…not as much as I do and not in the same way, but more than a few people have told me how much they enjoy working with you. You’re accessible and open and honest—two hundred and fifty thousand it is. What’s next on the agenda?”

“A trip to the basement; I want to show you where I want to put the company gym.” Three minutes later we were down at Security. Elkins was waiting for us. He opened three storage rooms, although there was more junk than storage in those rooms. They were all big–twenty-five by twenty. None of the walls bore any weight so they could come down easily. “I’ve already spoken to the landlord and he has no objection. I hinted that you’d sign a long-term lease.” I looked at my wife-to-be in amazement. She’d thought about everything. “If we begin now we could open by the first week in January.” She looked at me expectantly. I kissed her as Elkins chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

We were about to return to our offices when the phone rang and Elkins rushed to answer. He was smiling once he hung up. “I just heard, sir…congratulations. You’re getting a wonderful wife.” I already knew that.

Rita worked hard on the bonuses—so hard that they were delivered that Friday, much to the appreciation of the entire team. Clark Roberts always managed to deliver them a day or two before Christmas, creating shopping problems for many of the staff. I was very pleased that he was gone.

Finding a place for party proved impossible, especially at this late date. Instead, we decided to give each employee a gift. The women each received a diamond bracelet valued at approximately $2,000. Each of the men received an Omega wristwatch of equal value. We also closed on December 22nd and reopened on the 28th, giving everyone the chance for a long holiday with their families.

Rita and I engaged the Sands Point Golf Club for both our wedding and the reception to follow, but before the ceremony she asked the question I’d been expecting—“what about your family, Martin? Won’t they be coming?”

“No, I’ll tell them once it’s all done. We don’t have much of a relationship. You see, I used to have a brother. He went to college, but was in ROTC and went into the Army when he graduated. After training he was assigned to Afghanistan and then to Iraq where he was killed by an IED—one of those homemade bombs. My parents were devastated. They have a big monument in their house—in Tim’s room and in their living room. That’s all they do—pine for Tim. I’m sure you’ve noticed that neither of my parents came here once I was free of Dana, nor did I receive even a single phone call even though the story was run on CNN and all the other national news channels. I’m their only surviving child, but I might as well be as dead as Tim.” Rita held me for almost a half hour as I cried to release my pent-up emotions.

We moved forward with our plans and the day arrived sooner than we could have imagined. Brian and I wore tuxes. Rita refused a wedding gown, but did accept a strapless designer gown in off-white with about a thousand seed pearls sown into the bodice. It looked marvelous with her diamonds as her dad walked her to the raised platform where Brian and I waited with the judge. Truthfully, she never looked more beautiful than at that moment. The ceremony was short and to the point, but it was legal and binding forever. We walked into the bar for drinks while the restaurant staff set up the tables, chairs, and the equipment for the band. Fifteen minutes later we returned for the official cocktail hour. Waiters moved through the room with hot and cold hors d’oeuvres, shrimp, lobster bits, and caviar. Holding hands Rita and I moved together through the crowd, stopping often to speak with and receive well-wishes from our guests. We had a wonderful time, even dancing almost every dance.

We were getting into bed and Rita was wondering if I’d bought her another gift. She pushed tentatively on her pillow as I laughed. “Cold, darling—frigid, in fact.” She sat next to my body, taking a second to stroke my cock. “That’s cheating.”

“No, it’s not; this is our wedding night. I’m allowed to play with this tonight…and every other night, too,” she said with a giggle.

“Well, I’ll tell you this…it’s not here. It’s not coming until tomorrow morning and I’m not telling you what it is, either. You’ll just have to wait.”

“Okay…I guess, but I can still give you your present.”

“I already got my present. You’re the best present I could ever receive.”

“Okay, here’s the second best present.” She reached into her night table to remove a small box wrapped in silver foil.

“Did we corner the market on this foil?” Rita laughed then handed me the box. I opened it and…. “I love it. Will you put it on me?” She lifted the gold link bracelet from the box and put it on my wrist. It was heavy, with big links—18 karat. It was a wonderful present. I’d treasure it forever; it was a gift that would last the rest of my life. “I think it’s time to consummate this marriage, don’t you?”

“If I recall correctly we did that our first night together, but I doubt I’ll ever turn you down. I want it as much as you do…maybe more.” She dropped the box onto the floor and rolled onto my body. Her lips found mine as her small sensitive breasts rubbed across my chest. Rita kissed me. I was ready for a long deep one, but she was quick then, tongue extended, she began to lick down my body. Down my neck and around my Adam’s apple she teased me.

She continued slowly down my chest, stopping to run her tongue around each nipple. I had no idea what she was doing, but I wasn’t about to stop her. I was praying she’d stop at my cock, but she didn’t. Instead she licked all the way down to my toes. Looking up she grinned. “I can be such a tease, can’t I? Not to worry—I’ll take the very best care of you…just like always. I love you, Martin and I think I always have…ever since you first hired me.” She moved up my other leg, all around my scrotum and –at last—up the sensitive underside of my cock. I shuddered in delight.

“I hope you realize that our marriage will be only half consummated if you continue that. Why don’t you…?”

“I will, but I want to make sure you’re really ready.”

I laughed so hard I hurt. “I wouldn’t worry about that, my love. I am and always will be ready for you.” I reached down, grasped her shoulders and pulled her up. When her mouth was even with mine I shifted to her hips and, lifting with both hands, slowly eased her down my stiff organ. There was an urgency to her movements tonight. She was frantic, not rocking, but jolting forward and back and side to side. She bent me almost in two—I loved it. Her soft velvety vise clamped down on me with a tightness I’d never experienced. There was no way to resist even though I wanted to—to save my orgasm until Rita was ready. I drove her up—a foot or more—with every thrust as my cock emptied itself into her again and again.

I was totally drained when I whispered into Rita’s ear. “I’m sorry…I wanted to take care of you, but whatever you did….”

“Those were my Kegel muscles. I’ve been practicing at work…every spare minute. I’m glad you liked it. And, don’t worry—I owed you a couple anyway.” She kissed me again and slid to my side laying her head on my shoulder and placing her leaking cunt on my thigh. I had a strong feeling I’d change the sheets again tomorrow.

Rita’s present was delivered early the following morning. It was there in the driveway with a huge silver bow on the roof when I led her outside. Rita’s car was a piece of shit—an eight year old Plymouth that seemed to spend as much time in the shop as out. The BMW X6 in Deep Sea Blue Metallic had virtually every option. It was fast and safe—as safe as any car could be. The look on Rita’s was priceless. She gave me a tremendous hug and kiss before taking the smart key from my hand and stepping in. “I think you’d better check out the manual before you do any driving.” She reached across the console to open the glove box then she stopped cold. There inside was a box, approximately twelve inches square. It was wrapped in silver foil.

“I guess we are cornering the market on this paper. Wasn’t this enough?”

“No, it wasn’t. Open your gift. The car is a necessity, not a gift. I hated the idea of you driving that old piece of crap. Now I know you’ll be safe. Just don’t open it up on the secondary roads. Save that for an interstate. Now…open your gift.” I held her head as I leaned into the car to plant a sweet kiss on her lips.

I knew she was expecting jewelry so she was in for a surprise. Inside the box was an envelope and inside that was a gift certificate for $20,000 at one of the city’s trendiest women’s store. “I want you to have the best. We have a charity ball coming up in January and you need a gown…and shoes and a purse and a bunch of other things, too. Take Sara with you and spend to your heart’s content. Go over the twenty if you wish. I’ve already cleared it with the store owner. You’ll find the prices there are high, but I can afford it and I’ll always want you to look your best.” I kissed her again and then hopped into the passenger seat for Rita’s first drive in her new car. Of course, we drove to Sara’s. She and Rita drove into Manhattan the following day, filling the SUV with new clothes of all kinds. She spent much more than the $20,000, but that was fine with me. I’d square it with the store Monday morning.

Christmas was wonderful. I hadn’t celebrated Christmas since my marriage to Dana. Rita and I visited Sara and Brian on Christmas Eve and watched their two girls so they and Michael could attend midnight mass. We went home around 1:30, taking the time to open our presents. As per agreement we had bought only one present each. That was the agreement, however, there was no limit on what could be spent, a concept that was lost on Rita. She insisted that I open my gift first. Inside the box was a beautiful merino wool sweater imported from New Zealand. I loved it; I knew very well how warm a thin sweater like this could be. It would be great playing golf on a cool day. I thanked her with a kiss and handed her the big box with her gift.

She opened it and looked up—a bemused look on her face. “Funny,” she said as she pulled the slightly smaller box out. Inside this was a still smaller box and inside that was yet another box. “Starting to be not funny,” she said, but she was smiling when she said it.

“That’s the last one…I think.” She laughed as she opened it. Inside was a final box, this one wrapped in the inevitable silver foil. She tore that off, exposing the deep blue velvet box inside.

“You’re going to be in a lot of trouble if this cost more than $200.”

“Then I’m dead.” She opened the box and gasped.

“Will you help me put them on? I love you, but I’m sure you’re in big trouble.” She lifted the exquisite emerald and diamond necklace, opening the lobster clasp and holding it out for me. I fastened it around her neck. She removed her diamond studs, replacing them with the bangle earrings that featured a ten carat emerald suspended from a cluster of three one carat diamonds. Next was the bracelet—two rows of matching diamonds around a central row of sparkling emeralds. Finally, she removed the ring with a twelve carat emerald surrounded by a ring of diamonds. It was a truly incredible set, made all the more beautiful when worn by my wife.

“How much?”

“$201…not a penny more!” Rita just laughed and laughed.

“I know that emeralds are even more expensive than diamonds. I’ll bet this cost even more than my diamond set.”

“No bet…Merry Christmas. They look beautiful on you, but your beauty puts them to shame.”

“You are such a fibber, but I love you anyway. I think I’ll wear these tomorrow just to see Sara’s reaction. Let’s go to bed. For some reason I need you now even more than usual.” She took my hand and led me upstairs, her emeralds glistening in the dim light. “You’re going to spoil me rotten, you know.”

“Yup..that’s my goal and I’ve just begun.” We climbed into bed to hold each other and make the most exquisite—the most delicious—love to each other. We fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Sara, Brian, and the kids came over for lunch. I had promised them my special hot dogs. I was working with the grill, my breath showing in the cold December air, when Brian came out to join me. “I’m glad to have the opportunity to speak with you, Brian. Where’d you attend medical school?”

“Stony Brook, why?”

“Know anyone there in obstetrics? Rita and I would like to start a family and we think we’d like to try in vitro fertilization. I’m prepared to pay for the opportunity. What does a year there cost, do you know?”

“Tuition and fees probably come to almost $50,000 for an in-state student and then there’s room and board, too.”

“I’d be willing to cover a year’s expenses for a med student’s donation and I’d be willing to donate ten million to the university. Think you can set up an appointment for us?”

“I’ll do my best.” I thanked him and finished up the dogs, carrying the platter in to the eager kids.

We distributed the gifts after lunch. Rita had coordinated everything with her sister so we knew we were buying things they wanted. The four adults were seated, enjoying a glass of wine, when Rita chose to tell Sara about our presents. “Did you know that Martin and I agreed to buy one gift only for each other? I bought him a nice merino wool sweater.”

“Oh, that sounds great.”

“He bought me this.” She produced the box from under the couch.

“Oh, my! It looks like you got the better of the deal. Knowing you Martin I’m sure these are real. They’re beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like them. Here’s a present for my favorite sister-in-law.” I gave her a box that was slightly smaller than Rita’s. Inside were emerald and diamond earrings and a matching pendant on a platinum chain.

“They’re beautiful Martin, but I can’t accept this.”

“Of course you can. Not only are you my favorite sister-in-law, but you’re an incredible person, too. I can see that in everything you do.” She smiled, kissed my cheek and rushed to the mirror to try them on. They looked just as great as I had hoped.

“You’re so lucky, Rita.”

“So are you, Sara.”

“I know…what a great Christmas.”

“Rita and I are hoping to have a family soon. We’ve asked Brian to help us. The torture I experienced destroyed my ability to sire children so we’re going to try in vitro fertilization. We’re sure Brian never said anything to you, but neither of us likes telling lies or having secrets from those we love. I know it takes more to be a father than just being a sperm donor.”

“It does,” Brian responded, “and I’m sure you’ll be a great one. You’re a kind, loving man. You’re strong inside and gentle. I can see that in how you react with our kids. I promise I’ll do everything I can.”

Rita and I left work early the first Friday in January. It was the night of the Charity Ball. We took a limo into the city, sharing a bottle of Dom Perignon on the way. I could see heads turn when I escorted Rita into the ballroom. Many of my acquaintances had read of my ordeal so they were not surprised when I introduced Rita as my wife. We had a wonderful time and it was clear that Rita fit into this level of high society well. I knew then that we do this again.

I received a phone call at work the following week from a Dr. Gottlieb who identified himself as the head of OB/GYN at Stony Brook University Hospital. We spoke for fifteen minutes and set up an appointment for the following week. Rita and I met with him; he assured us he could be of help, especially considering what I was willing to spend and donate. He assured us that everything would be strictly confidential and that only he would know our identities. He examined Rita carefully and, not surprisingly, found her to be in excellent health. Then he described the process involved—the three times daily injections of fertility drugs, the injection of a drug to control ovulation, and finally the process of the actual fertilization. He already had a willing donor—a second year medical student who was 6’2” tall, weighing 185 pounds with brown hair and blue eyes, pretty close to my description. He gave us a timetable and prescriptions for the drugs and hypodermic needles. We agreed that I’d inject Rita every morning, at lunch, and again once we had returned home.

The next month was spent checking the calendar and setting alarms, giving injections, and loving my wife even more than I had before. We returned to Stony Brook for the procedure roughly a month later. I had a certified check payable to cash for $100,000 in my pocket for the donor. I had promised the donation to the medical school once Rita was proved to be pregnant. That news came a month after the procedure. It was the happiest day of my life and it was the best money I’d ever spent. Not surprisingly, Rita agreed completely.

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