Ryan chuckled, her eyes crinkling up as she nodded. "Mmm … not Conor, but Rory and I were always finagling to get to be the only one left at home."
"Maybe that was your father’s plan to keep you all from constant self-abuse."
"You’re starting to sound like my granny," Ryan warned, "and she’s the last person I want to have in my head when I’m watching porn."
"I’m surprised to hear that Conor wasn’t interested in dirty movies," Jamie said. "Of course, he was probably too busy actually having sex to bother with it."
Ryan chuckled and said, "No he wasn’t. He just liked getting paid for his pleasure. When he hadn’t had a date in a while, he’d go donate sperm. It used to piss me off that he could get $50 to watch porn, and I had to do it for free."
Blinking slowly, Jamie said, "He really did that?"
"Yeah. All the time. He only stopped when Da caught him boasting about it. Conor tried to convince him that he was doing a humanitarian deed, but when Da found out he got paid for pullin’ his wire, he put a stop to it immediately."
"Pulling his wire, huh? That’s new one." Jamie giggled softly, but then her brow furrowed. "God, I wonder how many little Conors are running around San Francisco."
"Given how often he went, I’d say there could be hundreds," Ryan said. "But, a donor can only father so many children. I’m not sure how many you can have, but it’s not a lot." Cocking her head, Ryan said, "How did we get on the topic of Conor’s pleasure? Let’s concentrate on our own, okay?"
Jamie turned her head to the screen, and was immediately rewarded by a very appealing sight. "Oh, my," she murmured. "Now that is a nice pair of breasts."
"What makes them nice?" Ryan asked. "Since you’re such a breast-o-phile, I’m sure you have criteria."
"Of course I do," she sniffed. "Those are nice because they have a nice heft to them. Not too big, but they definitely move. They’re fairly symmetrical; they both point the same way, and have nice skin tone. Nice nipples, too. Not as nice as yours, I might add, but nice."
"Why, thank you," Ryan said, grinning.
"Mmm … the blonde knows how to play with them, too," Jamie said. "Oh, I love it when you do that to me."
Ryan shifted around and slid in behind her partner, pulling her against her chest. While the woman on screen played with her co-star’s breasts, Ryan mimicked her, tickling and teasing Jamie through her T-shirt. "I’d go to the movies every night if we could do this," the smaller woman murmured.
"Nine fifty would seem like a bargain price, too," Ryan said. "Pay attention now. The other woman’s shirt’s coming off."
"Not bad," Jamie said. "A little meager for my tastes, but they’d do in a pinch."
"Speaking of pinching …" Ryan predicted.
"Ouch! That looked like it hurt!"
"The pinchee doesn’t seem to mind," Ryan said. "There go the jeans."
Jamie was completely silent for a few minutes, watching the women strip completely. Once they were nude, they went out onto the deck, tossed some pillows onto the floor, and lay next to one another. Their hands were everywhere, stroking, sliding over each other, playing gently with each other’s breasts, and squeezing firm ass cheeks. Ryan noticed her partner shifting around a bit, and she guessed that the movie was having its intended effect. "Damn, it’s beautiful to watch two women make love," Jamie sighed. "A woman’s body is such a work of art."
"All of those nice curves," Ryan said, drawing her hand over all of Jamie’s that she could reach.
"The nice, smooth muscles," Jamie said, squeezing the muscular thighs that surrounded her. "Everything’s nice and round and soft and squishy."
"Squishy?"
"Yeah … like when my breasts squish against yours."
"Squishy’s nice," Ryan murmured.
"Wanna squish together now?" the blonde asked softly.
"Perfect timing." Ryan switched off the VCR and started to tug her partner’s T-shirt off.
"What else do the women in the movie do?" Jamie asked.
"Mmm … they go down on each other in the next scene. Other than that, I have no idea. I’ve never gotten farther than that."
"In dozens of viewings?"
"Hey, I’m easy. If I can get off in ten minutes, why waste time?" Her eyes grew wide, and she hastened to add, "That only applies to getting myself off. I like you to take all the time in the world."
"Your wish is my command," the blonde said, and proceeded to love her partner nice and slow and unhurriedly.
Part 5
On Thursday night, Jamie lay nestled in Ryan’s arms, listening to the steady, slow beat of her heart. "I love listening to you breathe," she sighed, making Ryan chuckle mildly.
"I’m kinda fond of it myself," the dark woman murmured. "I’d miss it if I stopped."
Reaching up a few inches, Jamie managed to get her fingers up under Ryan’s last rib, a sure-fire tickle spot. Amid the startled laughter, she said, "I’m so excited about seeing your first game tomorrow. I went to the store and loaded up on film, just for the occasion."
"Oh, no!" Ryan cried, her chagrin only partially faked. "Is this gonna be like ‘first day of school’ pictures that Da always made us pose for?"
"Yep. I’m gonna take at least two rolls of you. I think I’ll have you in those action poses like they do on the real baseball cards."
"Well, that will assure that I win the biggest dork competition on the team," Ryan teased. "Oh, well, it’s nice to be the best at something."
Jamie hugged her tighter and said, "You know I’d never embarrass you in front of your teammates. I’ll make sure I have you pose in private."
"It’s a deal. I won’t complain about the pictures, if you don’t make me look like a nut in front of my teammates."
"There’s only so much control I have over that, but I’ll do my best," Jamie said, dissolving into laughter when Ryan returned the favor and tickled her mercilessly.
On Friday morning, the junior Senator from the state of California met his old golfing buddies near the driving range of the Olympic Club. The first to arrive was Adam Christopher, Mia’s father, and one of Jim’s oldest friends.
Even though they were close, they rarely spoke for more than thirty seconds on the phone – and it was rare to even do that; they usually had their secretaries make arrangements for them to play golf or go sailing. The status quo didn’t change once Jim left for Washington, and as his friend rolled up in a cart, he considered that he hadn’t spoken to Adam since he had left. Thus, they had not discussed the tumult of the carjacking, nor had they broached the subject of Jim’s divorce.
The tall man had absolutely nothing in common with his daughter, physically, Jim mused as Adam walked towards him. He was broad shouldered and lanky, with blue eyes and a shock of fine, straight, blonde hair that constantly tried to fall into his eyes. Having recently spent a little time in Mia’s company, Jim decided that even though the pair looked nothing alike, Mia had inherited a good portion of her father’s laid-back attitude.
Adam was the prototypical California beach bum when Jim met him during their freshman year at Stanford. Very easy-going, with a razor-sharp mind, the young man had impressed Jim immediately with his ability to glide through Stanford without obvious effort. Always up for a party or a road trip, Adam had been the one to introduce Jim to both marijuana and a long line of beautiful women.
Women found Adam completely irresistible – possibly because he acted like he was fully able to resist every one of them. He was always fun-loving and attentive when he was in a woman’s company, but he never sought them out – preferring to make a woman chase him – which many did. Jim learned a lot from watching his worldlier friend, and by the time they were ready to graduate, they had cut a wide swath through the field of eligible women in Palo Alto.
Things didn’t change much when they entered law school together. Their brothers of Sigma Chi were not at all surprised when hard-working Jim Evans was accepted to the law school, but many jaws dropped w
hen Adam Christopher was admitted as well. Most of their frat brothers assumed Adam would ride a surfboard for most of his life, with a healthy supply of women to tend to his needs; but that wasn’t Adam’s plan.
Beneath the carefree exterior was a very competitive, ambitious young man, and when he entered law school that side of his personality started to emerge. He focused his talents for the first time in his life, and was soon near the top of his class … usually a spot or two above his frustrated friend Jim.
Near the end of their first year of law school, Adam met the woman he would marry. A more diametrically opposite pair it was hard to imagine; but for the first time, Adam did the chasing. Anna Lisa Poncirolli was a full-time employee working in the law library, and from the first time he saw her, Adam set his sights on wooing and winning the attractive young woman’s heart.
Anna Lisa was a lovely young woman with dark, curly hair, her eyes so dark as to appear black in low light. Her olive-toned skin and petite frame contrasted starkly with the tall, fair, blonde man, and their physical differences were not the only ones that revealed themselves.
Anna Lisa was not a Stanford student – her immigrant parents could never have dreamed of being able to afford the tuition, but that didn’t stop the determined young woman. She had talked her way into a job at Stanford when she was fresh out of high school, and had been spending the last four years taking evening classes through Stanford Extension. It wasn’t the same as earning a degree, but she was learning a great deal and improving her mind, which was her main goal. There were many ways the young woman could have obtained a degree, including the affordable city college route, but she saw the respect that Stanford graduates were afforded, and she cast her lot with the school, even though she had neither the grades nor the money to be admitted into a degree program.
At first, Adam’s friends assumed that he was stooping below his social class with his determined pursuit of the young, working-class woman. But as more of them got to know her, their opinions quickly changed when they saw what a perfect, albeit mismatched, pair they made.
After a whirlwind courtship, Adam had his prize; and he and Jim subsequently exchanged best-man duties at each other’s weddings. Adam and Anna Lisa were married in August of that year, and ten months later, their son Peter was born. Mia came along ten months after Jamie, and to Jim’s knowledge, the pair had been happily married throughout.
Adam approached and gave his old friend a hearty handshake. "You look great!" he exclaimed, slapping Jim on the back. "I always knew that senators led a charmed life. You’re the living proof of that, Jim. Jesus, you look ten years younger!"
"Thanks, Adam," he said. "I wouldn’t let this get around, but it’s the truth. I haven’t had a schedule this relaxed since we were in law school. Oh, I have most of my evenings filled with receptions and speeches, but it’s not the grinding pressure of practicing law. I don’t know how I’ll ever go back," he said, shaking his head.
"Well, you can cross that bridge when you come to it. I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities that come from this. Besides, you could always retire and spend the rest of your life sailing, if you wanted to."
Jim decided to get the topic out of the way, so he said, "I could have a year ago, pal, but I don’t have Catherine’s money to prop me up any longer. The divorce will be final in five months."
"Tough break," Adam said, giving his friend another pat on the back. "How’d it go for you?"
"It went fine," Jim said. "Well, as fine as a divorce can be, I suppose. It was the most amicable divorce in California history near as I can tell. I defaulted."
"You what?"
"Hey, people are trying to play golf; lower your voice," Jim said. "You obviously heard me. Catherine initiated the idea … I made a proposal … she incorporated my proposal into her petition, and I defaulted. The judge granted her petition, and in a few months it’s final."
"Jesus," Adam gaped, "Catherine is obviously the person to divorce if you’ve gotta divorce someone. What did her attorneys say?"
"She has the most disappointed attorney in the entire bar," Jim said. "She paid the guy for about two hours of work, as a matter of fact. All he had to do was review the document I sent to her and file it."
"Wait a minute," Adam insisted. "Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, it’s great that you got a good deal, but what if it gets out that a senator screwed his wife over in a divorce? I mean, look what the press did to Newt Gingrich when they found out about him filing when his wife was in the hospital."
"Adam, Catherine did not, in any way, get screwed over in this divorce. I asked for my cars and the gifts she’s given me. That’s it."
"Are you insane?"
"No, no, I’m not," Jim said. "I make a very good living … or at least I did when I was with the firm. If I can’t figure out how to live on a million bucks a year, I ought to be ashamed of myself."
"But you’re used to so much more!"
"Yes, I am, but I’ve had a great ride for 22 years. She doesn’t owe me more than that, but she very generously transferred title to my apartment in the city, so at least I’ll have a place to hang my hat."
"Unbelievable," Adam muttered. "That’s going to be some adjustment, Jim. Not to say it’s not a nice apartment, but …"
"Look, Adam, she’s been much more patient than I deserve. Believe me, she’s put up with more shit than most women would tolerate. She should have kicked me out on my ass fifteen years ago." He was shaking his head at himself, his remorse showing in a way his friend had never seen.
"This has really shaken you up, hasn’t it?" Adam asked with sympathy.
"Yeah, it has," Jim said quietly. "It’s been a hell of a year."
"All the mess with Jamie sure must have made it worse," Adam said, acknowledging he was aware of the facts, but trying not to pry.
"Yeah … that was a wake-up call, Adam. You don’t step back and think how lucky you are until you almost lose a child. I’ve had more nightmares than I can count."
"Mia says she’s doing well now," Adam said, not having any desire to talk about the details he had learned from the media and his daughter.
"She’s great," Jim said. "I’m actually in town mainly because we’re having a birthday party for her this Saturday." He looked at his friend and said, "Six months ago I was fixated on her revelation that she was in love with another woman. After everything that’s happened, I kick myself when I think about how stupid I was. She’s a wonderful young woman, no matter who she loves, and I’m damned lucky to have her."
"I’m glad to hear that, Jim," he said, with a smile curling up the corner of his mouth. "I’ll try to remember that when Mia pushes me to the edge of my sanity."
The softball tournament was in San Jose, and since Jamie didn’t have any classes scheduled, she waited until traffic was bearable, then went down to Hillsborough to pick up her mother.
Catherine was waiting for her – dressed and ready to go when she opened the front door. "Shall we?" she asked, picking up her purse.
"We’re not in that big of a rush, Mom. Let me go say hello to Marta."
Smiling at her own eagerness, Catherine stepped aside and consigned herself to waiting until her daughter had greeted the cook. I couldn’t be more excited if Ryan were my own child.
They arrived in plenty of time, and caught up with the team right before they went to an empty field to begin to limber up. "Have you grown since this morning?" Jamie murmured into Ryan’s ear when she sidled up behind her.
"Nooooo," she said, turning to give her partner a dazzling grin. "Why, do I look taller?"
Jamie gave her an appraising look, starting at her head, caressing her long body with her eyes until she reached her black cleats. "You look like you’ve got six feet of legs alone," she insisted, dropping her gaze to give the long limbs another look.
"It’s the pinstripes," Ryan said, giving Catherine a smile as she arrived. "Good morning, Catherine," she said. "Have you ever seen so many softb
all teams in one space in your life?"
"How many are here?" she marveled, giving Ryan a hug in the bargain.
"16. A lot if them are very good, too – Florida State, Nebraska, Iowa State, Ohio State. It should be a good tournament."
"Do you have time for some pictures?" Jamie asked. "I’d like to get you before you’re dirty."
Ryan shot a glance at Marge Hellencamp, one of the assistant coaches, and mouthed, "When do we take the field?"
"Fifteen minutes," she replied, then added a wink when she saw Jamie and Catherine.
"I’ll be back," Ryan said, grabbing a bat with one hand, then grasping Jamie with the other to lead her back behind where the team buses were parked.
"Is this the best we can do?" Jamie asked, as Catherine chuckled.
"This will be fine," Ryan said. "You can shoot towards the berm over there. It’ll be a nice, green backdrop."
"All right, stretch, hold that bat like you know what to do with it, and strike a pose."
"Such an attitude," Ryan said. "Was she always so domineering, Catherine?"
"I’m afraid so," Catherine said. "She’s always been a natural leader."
"Nice spin on it, Mom," Jamie said sweetly as she framed Ryan in the viewfinder. "Most people would say I’m bossy." As she concentrated on her task, Jamie mused, "You’re so darned cute in that outfit. It was made for you."
Catherine cast a long glance at her daughter-in-law, noting the traditional baseball-style white uniform with the crisp blue pinstripes. The pants were very snug, not a wrinkle showing down the long, lean legs. Dark blue stirrups covered plain white sanitary socks, with low-rise, black cleats on her feet. A neat, dark blue mock-turtleneck was covered by the sleeveless jersey, with Ryan rakishly leaving the top two jersey buttons unfastened, letting even more of the dark sweater peek out.
A large, dark blue "9" backed with gold covered Ryan’s broad back, and a similarly colored "Cal" was emblazoned in script across her chest. As the tall woman loosened up by swinging the bat, the Cal grew distorted, then snapped back into place, with each completed motion.
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