Money Shot (72 page)

Miriam smiled knowingly, “Oh, of course, Winston, thank you.” She beamed at Richard. “No trip with Richard is ever anything but a pleasure.”

“He is an exceptional young man, is he not?”

“Yes, he is. He is indeed.”

“Alright, you two, if you’re finished making me blush over here, I’m going to grab our luggage and then we can go track down those siblings of mine.”

“Nonsense, Master Richard--I won’t hear of it. My back is not so frail that I will allow you to stand here and imply I’m not able to do my job properly. Now before you come out with any more foolish ideas, you and your lovely young miss run off after the others, and when you return I shall have your suitcases properly placed.” Miriam wasn’t certain she wanted to see the old man straining under the weight of her bags, but she needn’t have worried; Winston clapped his hands twice and a pair of burly porters appeared as if from nowhere, scooped their bags from the car, and disappeared off towards the bedrooms almost before she knew what was happening.

“Well, honey, it looks like Winston has things well in hand here.” He took her hand and led her through the foyer; every sight greeting her eye made her want to gasp, so bedecked in opulence was the Standell home. Seemingly every wall contained some amazing artifact or beautiful piece that in any other home she might have assumed to be skillful reproductions or high-resolution prints--but in this home she knew must be original works, of similar caliber as the finest museums in the world. Was that a Blue period Picasso over the mantle? No time to investigate closer, as Richard pulled her behind him, everything familiar to him as the back of his hand, yet new and entrancing to her.

Passing a large-scale Pollock drip painting as chaotic as a thunderstorm, the pair emerged into a luxurious family room, meticulously clean but inviting and comfortable. A woman sat reading at the far end of the room, breaking into a smile in recognition of Miriam’s traveling companion.

“Son! Oh Richard, it’s so good to see you!”

“Mother! Winston said you were tending your garden!”

“Oh, that man…he won’t ever admit he’s missed a step, as if we’d ever let him go no matter what. He still insists he could carry any of you children up to bed if need be, you know? As if that’s ever to be an issue now that all four of you are grown.” She hugged her son dearly, then released him and looked at Miriam. “And this must be Miriam. So good to meet you, please call me Annabel. We’re so happy you were able to join us this weekend, dear.”

“Oh, I am too. Happy, that is.” She hugged Richard’s mother, somewhat awkwardly, but warmly.

“I’m sorry Richard’s father isn’t here to greet you, but you know men and their business. If it’s any consolation, he’s promised to be home the moment he’s able, so hopefully he’ll be here any minute.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, Mrs. Standell.”

“Now, now…I told you to call me Annabel, Miriam. I’m going to have to insist on it!”

“Annabel.” She smiled. “It’s no problem at all. I’m looking forward to meeting everyone in the family.”

“Even us?”

She looked over to the source of the voice and saw three young people just entering the living room, two men slightly shorter than Richard, but close enough in resemblance that either could have used his driver’s license without raising an eyebrow. Trailing a step behind was a young woman with a downcast expression, her lithe body sulking against the requirements being placed upon it, her every move expressing annoyance and disdain for her surroundings.

“Well, here are my other angels now! Miriam, these are Richard’s older brothers Graham and Evan.”

“Pleased, ma’am,” they uttered simultaneously, embracing her as one and pulling her to them somewhat more tightly than she had anticipated; as she found her body crushing into the hard muscles of their torsos, she closed her eyes against the pressure of their arms holding her and was surprised at how their musky male smell reminded her of Richard’s.

“That’s enough, boys.” Their mother broke their grasp; Miriam felt herself gasp in relief as air rushed into her lungs. “And bringing up the rear here we have my youngest angel, Cassie.”

Cassie rolled her eyes, “God, Mom, could you be any more embarrassing?” She popped her gum and looked Miriam from head to toe as if evaluating a piece of meat or a servant being considered for service. “Well, Richard, this is pretty much what I expected from you. I mean, she looks good, sure--but can she eat pussy?”

Miriam froze at her remark; fortunately before she felt obligated to respond, Annabel leapt in to intervene.

“Young lady, you know full well that is not how we speak to company. Miriam, I apologize on my daughter’s behalf; she’s just going through one of those ever-so-charming rebellious phases.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “Ugh, don’t talk about me like I’m not here, Mother.”

“Ever since she turned eighteen she thinks she knows everything, and her poor old mother is just an obstacle to be overcome.” Annabel winked at Miriam, and somehow the impropriety of the gesture made her giggle despite herself. “But Moms know a thing or two, yes we do. And whether eighteen years or eighteen months old, she’s still my little girl.”

Cassie’s eyes rolled so hard Miriam thought they would fall out of her head. “If you’re done, I’m gonna…”

Cassie trailed off midsentence as a distant sound caught her attention; looking from face to face, Miriam could see the other Standells heard it too. Straining her ears, almost too faint to make out beneath the Saturday morning stillness was the whining roar of a high-performance automobile, rapidly increasing in volume as the machine approached the house. She turned to Richard, eyes ablaze with questions:

“What’s…?”

His eyes locked with hers, as wide as china saucers and full of panic:

“Daddy’s home.”

“D…?”

The Standell children straightened themselves noticeably as if presenting for attention--even Cassie, Miriam noticed--while Annabel merely bookmarked her page in the vintage tome she had been perusing and set it aside. A drop of sweat broke on Richard’s brow as the roar right outside increased to near-deafening volume, then cut off abruptly and died off into the twitter and chirping of the birds in the trees.

With thunderous steps, she heard the car’s driver exit the vehicle and mount the home’s entryway, unhurried but with purpose, each footfall resonating as if placed with determination, marking and alerting all to his progression down the hall--and then suddenly he was there, dominating the doorway in a way she would have thought impossible for anyone but a basketball player.

He was taller than Richard by three or four inches, easily, and though his temples betrayed a dusting of gray his physique hardly seemed that of a man old enough to be the father of four grown children. His grin was intoxicating, and she felt dizzy looking at him, as if his presence alone was enough to deform reality.

“I tell you, that Bugatti makes the Lamborghini look like a Ferrari. It’s really something. I knew I should have just bought two the first time, that’ll teach me to dick around.” He took off his driving glasses, and the force of his gaze nearly knocked Miriam off her feet. “And who do we have here?”

Annabel answered, “Steve, of course you remember Richard was bringing the lovely Miriam home to meet the family this weekend?”

“Of course I remember--thank you, dear. Miriam, so pleased to welcome you to our humble abode.”

He looked her up and down, and she could feel his mind evaluating her potential value on every level: physical, mental, emotional, economic, social--and foremost, sexual. It was the cold stare of superiority not asserted, but known as an inborn, undisputable fact; he didn’t think he was better than she was, he
knew
it, the same way a child knows they are higher on the food chain than a worm or an ant. It wasn’t that he was inconsiderate of her feelings so much as he simply didn’t have the time, inclination, or patience to pretend they mattered.

“Hm. Well, you could have done worse, in any case, boy. Not sure about what’s going on under the hood, but the chassis is a decent structure to build on.”

After a lifetime of little boys kowtowing to her every whim, simply begging for a chance to get into her pants, the fact that this man couldn’t have cared less whether Miriam lived or died was the most arousing thing she’d ever felt. He made her feel like trash--and she loved it.

Miriam looked over at Richard, knowing that if anyone else spoke to her that way, he’d have been in their face in a microsecond, promising to break a number of their teeth equal to the number of seconds it took them to apologize. Now, however, he simply maintained his downward gaze, nodding almost imperceptibly in reception of his father’s evaluation: “Thank you, father. I’m glad you’re pleased.”

“Pleased? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. A nice trailer doesn’t mean a good turnout at the box office, after all.”

“Nevertheless, father, I think you’ll find Miriam is among the finest stock, well-bred, educated by the best, and mannered well enough to take into any situation without fear of embarrassment.” Richard raised his gaze and looked over at Miriam under his brow; the devotion in that fraction-of-a-second glance speaking volumes of the depth of his love. “I am confident in my assertion that she is the finest young woman I have encountered in my life to date.”

“Oh, I’m sure of that, I’m certain you’re sure of that,” Steve dismissed his flattering assertions with a wave. “But your field of experience is, ah, still far shallower than mine, is it not? Your old father has seen a few things you young bucks couldn’t even imagine, ha ha, yes he has. But…come over here a moment, boy.” Richard meekly shuffled in front of his father, head hanging low; towering inches above him, Steve put a hand on his shoulder lovingly. “Before anything I want you to know that I can tell you’ve done your due diligence here, and I appreciate that. You’ve done good work here, boy; it’s nice to know someone puts in the time to ensure we won’t be having another incident such as we had last Easter.” Out of the corner of her eye, Miriam saw Graham’s head hang in shame as Steve clapped his other hand on Richard’s other shoulder, emphasizing his point: “Will we, now?”

“No, sir. We will not.”

“Good. I love you, son.”

Richard beamed up into his father’s face, proud to have pleased him, while his siblings grumbled and muttered behind his beloved: “Bitch ain’t all that,” “Flat ass,” and the like, until their mother shot them a withering look of warning and they clamped their mouths shut instantly. Their complaints silenced, Richard turned and rejoined them at the far end of the room.

Steve spread his arms expansively, addressing all in a booming voice Miriam imagined he used to transfix boardrooms and investors into hanging on his every word: “Well, my family, it’s good to have you all together as Richard introduces this young woman to the Standell household, and I’m sure you’re all anxious to get the weekend started. But you all know the house rules: Daddy comes first.”

He dropped his pants in one swift motion, exposing his prodigious manhood--still flaccid, but larger than any Miriam had ever seen--and sat in what was clearly his chair, a throne dominating the room and all its contents the way Steve’s presence did the people within. Miriam stood motionless in shock at his audacity; here was a man who not only played by his own rules, he imposed them on the world around him. Her nethers flooded with wetness, her panties suddenly sopping with her juices.

Miriam looked to Richard’s face for guidance, praying this wasn’t some cruel prank or joke at her expense, but neither his face nor those of his family gave any indication that the situation was anything but deadly serious. Looking back to Richard’s father, she could tell even such a miniscule delay was an irritation to him; this was a man who was used to having his orders carried out without delay. He drummed his fingers in annoyance; she could tell even such a signal was a concession to her ignorance, and she appreciated the gesture.

“Well, come on, girl--it’s not going to suck itself.” Miriam shuffled in front of Richard’s father and knelt before him, trying not to look either too eager or too unwilling; his cock dangling before her like the imposing trunk of some monstrous elephant. Settling back on her folded legs on the hard limestone floor, she cautiously took the tip of his penis into her mouth and felt it pump in response to her touch, growing into her with each flick of her tongue against its rough intrusion. She moaned in pleasure, feeling him inflate within her, pleased to be making him happy as he sank deeper into his chair, groaning low under his breath as she worked to raise his manhood to its full stature.