DRIVING MISS DAISY–Part 4 of 5

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Sara stayed for the weekend, placing many of her new clothes in what had been Daisy’s closet and dresser. Neither of us had discussed her moving in with me, but it was in process none the less. I certainly had no objection. The more time I spent with Sara the more I realized how much I loved her and how much I wanted to be with her every second of every day. I went to work exhausted, looking for a much needed rest at my computer.

I had been in the office about two hours and Cara was on her break when the phone rang. I usually answered if she was away from her desk so I picked up the phone saying, “Tritech, John Gotti speaking.”

“You fucking bastard! I know you’re behind it.”

“Hello, Daisy—what part of ‘I don’t want to hear from you again’ didn’t you understand?”

“I know that you stole my mother’s money and I know you were behind my father’s disappearance. You’re not getting away with this. I promise you!”

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Daisy and, even if I did, I certainly wouldn’t say anything to you about it. You know, I’m really glad that all of my calls are recorded. I’m sure my lawyer will make great use of your remarks….” I never had the chance to finish. Daisy had ended the call in a huff. All the same, I passed the information to my attorney. My request for a restraining order was granted the following morning.

I had just finished the final touches on the contract with the Department of Defense three days later, having signed and my signature notarized by Cara. All that was needed now was the signature of the Secretary of Defense. That would occur tomorrow after the forty page contract was Fed Ex’d to the Pentagon. I could have cleared a hundred million a year on the deal, but I settled for thirty percent of that. There is a limit to how much I can spend and I knew I couldn’t come anywhere near that. I had just ended a phone call with my contact at the Pentagon when Cara informed me that two special agents from the FBI were here to see me. I handed her the completed document and stepped forward to greet the men I had expected for more than a month.

After shaking hands I asked to see their credentials. Before speaking I pulled up the New York office of the FBI on my computer, dialing my phone a second later. “May I speak with Agent Thomas Connor or Agent Michael Brennan, please?” I listened silently as the receptionist informed me that they were out of the office. “Agent Connor–he’s that old guy with the white hair, right?” I listened closely while she described the gentleman seated opposite me to a “T.” I thanked her and ended the call.

“Now, gentlemen—what can I do for you?”

“That was pretty slick. We’re investigating the disappearance of one Thomas O’Neill from Springfield, Massachusetts and the theft of his wife’s money from her investment accounts.”

“I can help you with Mr. O’Neill, but I know nothing about any theft of money from Mrs. O’Neill. Mr. O’Neill is in Budva—I hope I’m pronouncing that correctly–Montenegro setting up a branch of my company in Europe. I can reach him on the phone if you like, but before I do I want you to see several photos I have on my computer.”

I turned the monitor so they could see then I scrolled through several photos. “Mr. O’Neill was essentially his wife’s slave and…hold on a second…okay, here it is. She controlled him with this stainless steel cock cage. See the part under it that has captured his scrotum? The front part of this contains a tiny radio receiver and a mechanism that would shock his testicles at her whim. Here are a few photos of burn marks on his scrotum. And here are a few shots of his back and butt where she whipped him mercilessly with a cane and a paddle. She and her daughter–my ex-fiancee—had the same plans for me. Unfortunately for them, I overheard a phone call between the two of them and threw her out before the wedding. I readily admit helping Tom to escape his wife.

“May I ask how much money was stolen?”

“Somewhere between three point five and four million, near as we can tell so far.”

“Excuse me for saying this but that’s chicken feed. I just finished a huge contract with the Department of Defense that should bring me more than thirty million dollars the first year alone. That should be my profit on the deal. Why would I risk that for such a trivial amount? Do you know how it was stolen? You said it was invested?”

“Yes and the thefts seem to have been via computer. That’s why we’re here speaking with you.”

“That figures. I’m sure you have people who can trace the source of any sell orders. I assume that would have to occur before any theft would take place. It doesn’t make any sense to steal securities that can be easily traced even though there really aren’t any paper shares these days, except maybe there are for some bonds. I’m hardly an expert in the field of finance.”

“Yes, we’ve done that. We know where the orders to sell originated.”

“Okay, may I ask where?”

“Actually, we can’t comment on any details in regard to an ongoing investigation.”

“Well, knowing Margaret O’Neill as I do I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that this is some kind of ruse perpetrated by her or her daughter. They’re evil people. Do you want to speak with Tom?” They did so a minute later he was on the phone with me and then with them as I left the room to use the men’s room. Their conversation was completed when I returned.

“Is there any other way I can assist you,” I asked.

“No…I think we’re done here. Thank you for your cooperation. I would like to know why Mr. O’Neill left the country and why Montenegro?”

“As I said earlier, Margaret O’Neill is an evil demented person. I wouldn’t put it past her to try to either kidnap her husband if he was local or to try to make up some spurious charges against him…like stealing her money, for example, even though he’s the one who earned it and was forced to give it to her because of the device on his genitals. He told me that she initially drugged him while on their honeymoon then shocked and beat him into submission. That’s the same plan they had for me, by the way. I looked into his eyes the first time we met and all I could see was a hollow shell of a man. He’s a decent guy and he deserves better.

“Now he’s going to head up my European office and he’ll make more than enough to live in the same manner or better than what he had here. My technicians–most of them have PhD’s–earned a minimum of $800,000 last year plus benefits. I’m sure you know that there is no extradition treaty with Montenegro at this time. Once we’re sure he’s safe he’ll be free to travel across Europe as needed.”

“Well…thanks again for your time. Okay if we phone you if we have any additional questions?”

“Of course; I’m always happy to help our government.” I rose and we shook hands again.

They were almost out the door when Mr. Connor turned for one additional question. “You really think four million is chicken feed?”

“Yeah, last year we earned almost a hundred million and I had expenses of less than half of that. I gave thirty million to charity and kept the rest. I think my income tax liability was about six million. I believe my investments are around twenty-four million so I really have no need for more even though I’m going to earn much more this year and most years in the future. My business is expanding faster than I can manage. Right now I’m about twenty employees short.”

Connor shook his head then said, “I think I’m in the wrong field.” A few seconds later they were out the door and gone.

I told Sara about the FBI that evening as we ate dinner then had another thought. “Would you like to have Thanksgiving here? We could invite Cara, your mom, and grandmother. I’m sure my folks would come, too. What do you think?”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, but Grandma has moved to Florida to live with her sister. Who would cook? Thanksgiving dinner is a lot of work.”

“I could handle the turkey and most of the rest. I’m sure I can convince my mom to do whatever else is needed. Speaking of which, I think you should meet them.” A minute later I began to laugh. Sara had the most incredulous expression on her face. “Relax, they’ll love you. They even liked Daisy until she tried to enslave and destroy me. I’ll phone them after dinner and see if we can’t get together over the weekend. Okay?” Sara took my hand in hers and looked straight into my soul then she smiled and I couldn’t wait to finish dinner.

Apparently, she couldn’t either. She pulled me from the table and pushed me down to the floor. Her fingers tore at my belt and then my jeans. Her Capri’s were almost ripped from her body and her expensive silk thong actually was. I lay on the rug, motionless as I waited for her to fuck me. And fuck me she did, grinding her clit into my abdomen relentlessly. Her almost bare pussy and my neatly shaved cock and balls glistened with droplets of her nectar. Up and down, forward and back, side to side, and round and round she moved on me. No living man could resist those movements and—for the life of me—I couldn’t think of a single reason why I would want to.

Using my thumb and forefinger I gripped her clit tightly and pulled and twisted. “OH, GOD, OH GOD, OH GOD,” she screamed and I was glad that our nearest neighbor was more than 200 yards away. She came violently, her body shaking and twisting as she completely lost control. Only my hands tight on her hips kept her head from striking the heavy wooden table or one of the chairs. She was still shaking when my balls emptied into her vault. Slick white semen oozed slowly from her cunt as I pulled her down to my chest. My hands gently stroked her head and neck and back until she rose up and asked, “Do you think we should finish dinner?” I laughed and helped her up. We sat naked and dripping onto the seats for the next ten minutes while we ate our cold steak and baked potatoes. We cleaned up quickly, I took the trash to the curb, and we met again in the shower, again taking the time to express our love for each other.

We were lying in bed—naked, as usual—when I decided it was time. “I think we should go shopping tomorrow right after work…maybe even before we finish so we can go into the city.”

“What are you babbling about, John?”

“I’m talking about buying you a ring…a big and really expensive engagement ring. Will you marry me? You’ll make me the happiest man on the planet.”

Sara’s response was to grip my head strongly and pull me into a long tongue-laden kiss. “Your answer is emphatically YES! I’ll be the happiest woman on earth. We’ll be a perfect pair. In fact, I feel that way right now.”

“Good; let’s take the day off. I don’t have anything pressing tomorrow.” Sara agreed. We kissed again and tried to sleep, but we were too excited. Instead, we kissed and stroked each other for an hour before I slipped into her and we made the sweetest most incredible love imaginable. We moved slowly, extending our time together as long as possible. Sara did cum twice before my cock dribbled semen into her. I wrapped my arms around my love, pulling her closely to me as we finally fell asleep.


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Of course, I had forgotten to phone my mom so that was the fourth thing I did the next morning right after telling Sara that I loved her, kissing her deeply, and phoning Cara to tell her I was taking the day off, but not telling her why. My phone call began like this: “Hi, Mom, would you like to come for dinner Saturday or Sunday?” She commented briefly on my cooking skills or lack thereof before inviting me instead. “Okay, Mom—would you mind if I brought someone with me?” I continued a minute or so later with a laugh. “No, Mom—it’s definitely not Daisy. That train has left the station and it’s never returning. I’d tell you more, but I have to run to catch a train into the city. Okay, see you Saturday afternoon around three. Bye, Mom…love you.”

“There you go—you’ll meet my folks around three Saturday afternoon…more than enough time to get over any nervousness.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” I just laughed and pulled Sara from the bed and into the shower. By now we were completely familiar with each other’s bodies, not that we had ever been shy with each other. We washed, rubbing soapy hands over chests and abdomens and over sex organs until we were squeaky clean. Only then did we exit and dry each other with loving tenderness. We dressed quickly so I could get us a cab to the Huntington Station. I knew that finding a place to park would be nearly impossible without a permit. Bottom line—taking a cab was easier and possibly cheaper than a parking ticket.

I bought round trip peak tickets leaving to Manhattan around 9:15 while Sara bought us two coffees at a shop next to the station. We were relaxing on a bench when Sara asked where we would go for her ring. “I could take you to Harry Winston or to Tiffany’s, but we’ll do a lot better in the Diamond District. I’ll save a lot of money there so I’ll be able to buy you some other things, too.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Oh! But if I tell you there won’t be any kind of surprise. What do you think—take a cab from Penn Station or walk? It’ll be about fourteen blocks…the short way.”

“The what? I don’t know anything about Manhattan.”

“Okay. Blocks running north and south are shorter, maybe a third of what they are running east and west. We have to go about fourteen blocks so do you want to walk or shall we take a cab?”

“It’s a beautiful day. Why don’t we walk? Maybe we should take the cab on the way back, you know, to be safe.” I agreed even though her concerns were silly. Walking in Manhattan was probably as safe as walking in our back yard, maybe even safer.

We caught the train and an hour later we stepped out of Penn Station onto 8th Avenue and 33rd Street. I pointed to the right and off we walked. Neither of us had dressed up so it was sneakers on both of our feet—perfect for a leisurely stroll.

We held hands all the way up Eighth until I stopped us at 46th where we crossed the street, continuing west until we reached the doorway I wanted. “Do you know where you’re going…where we’re going?”
“Yes, if it’s okay with you I’d like to use the same jeweler I used with Daisy. He told me the ring’s appraisal would be at least twice what I paid and he was right. Trust is very important in this business.” I pulled the door open and held it for Sara. I took her hand again and led her through what I knew from experience was a maze of vendors.

The Diamond District has several hundred vendors each with one or two showcases, a work area for making or fixing jewelry, and a huge safe probably weighing a ton or more.