Missy Likes It – Chapter 01 of 05

WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

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The Broadmore family was your typical suburban family according to any of their neighbors. The father and head of the household, Harold David Broadmore, was an investment broker who had done quite well, even in fluctuating markets. He had the knack of moving his money and investments, and those of his clients, just ahead of the manure hitting the ventilator.

Willamina Jane Broadmore, better known as Janie, was the typical suburban housewife who took her turn for the carpool and baked cookies for the school or softball team bake sales. She had once been a beautiful young bride, and through the years had progressed past the MILF phase to the OMILF (Older MILF) stage, but would still turn most heads as she jogged through the park on her morning run. There was just something overtly sexy about her, no matter where she was or how she was dressed.

Harold David was their oldest son. David had played softball in high school and had gotten an athletic scholarship at one of the state colleges.

Rebecca Jane, a year younger than David, was the head of the cheerleader squad in high school, and at the same time was team captain of the volley ball team. She was also riding an athletic scholarship with hopes of becoming a high school teacher and coach.

David William, two years younger than Becky, was brilliant, but shy and awkward. He was not quite a nerd, but he was definitely overshadowed by his older brother. His older brother even overshadowed his name, and he had to go by his middle name, Billy, since Harold went by his middle name, David.

Marion Michele, two years younger than Billy, was neither overly athletic or overly smart, but she was adequate in both areas and was able to maintain a high B average in high school that got her into the local teacher’s college with several small scholarships.

The youngest, and the reason I am writing this, was Melissa Sue Broadmore. Four years younger than her next oldest sister, Mary, and almost ten years younger than her oldest brother, David, she was the baby of the family. She was a 22 year old senior in college when she emailed me and asked if she could sit down and talk to me because she needed some advice about life. She signed the email, “Missy.”

I assumed that she had somehow gotten my email off the internet, and emailed back that I was not a counselor or therapist, but that I would gladly recommend several.

Her response was “SSSuzy said you would understand. I know her because I have stayed some weekends at the campground she and her husband run. She said that you might be the only person who wouldn’t judge me and would just listen to me and help me decide what to do.”

That got my attention. Self-Sub Suzy was a client of mine and would never have given my name and email to just anyone. Still, I was a little suspicious. One of the maxims I live by is “Just because you are paranoid, it doesn’t mean that there isn’t someone out there trying to get you.”

I sent back a response telling her to call me between 9:15 and 9:30 that night. I gave her the phone number of one of my pre-paid “burner phones.” I have boxes of them that I have purchased randomly from all over the nation as I travel. This one would be smashed up and in a dumpster by morning.

Using that phone I called SSSuzy. She answered with the name of the campground. I immediately said, “If you recognize my voice do not say my name. Just say yes.”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Do not say her name, but did you refer a young woman to me that needs advice?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Am I really the only one who can handle this?”

“I think so,” she replied. “It’s really complicated. David, her father…”

As soon as she said a name, I broke the connection. She had already told me everything I needed to know. My actions may sound overly controlling or even rude, but I keep too many people’s secrets. Keeping secrets is part of the service I am paid for.