The Mistress and the Mouse: Honeymoon Blues

by JJ Giles

  Reticent to stir any fury in him, Alex whispered, “Brian, you’re really alright with this arrangement?”

  The list clutched in his hand, Brian sat back in the chair and peered at Alex. “Alex, nobody ever told me the truth about anything. Not even you. You knew you could have been my father and never said anything, not even in the last ten years after Jerry and I parted company. It seems incomprehensible, but it took my mother to tell me the truth even though it was hurled at me like a thunderbolt from Mt. Olympus.” Brian rose and moved deeper into the room, closer to Alex. “Surely, you understand, I never knew how they lived. But after what Cheryl’s put Jerry through these last few days, I do understand.”

  “You understand what?”

  “You and Dad. She’s used me to keep you apart.”

  Alex drew in a deep breath. “I’ve missed him desperately, Brian. But you are not the cause of what went on. Only last night, Jerry admitted to me that biologically...” To say that he was a father felt like something foreign and misunderstood. “...that I am your father.”

  “How do you feel about that?”

  Alex gasped as he turned away. His shoulders shimmied a little with discomfort. “So very strange,” Somehow the very concept strikes a chord of terror in my heart.” Only slowly, his gaze returned to Brian. “It doesn’t mean I don’t love you, will leave everything I’ve got to you and Cherry. And I do think of you as my son. I love you like a son. You are my son.”

  “I know. I’ve always known that you’re my mother.”

  “Oh, God.” His eyes ruptured with tears as he fell into Brian’s eager arms. To be embraced by his son like this was more than he could have ever hoped for, more than he ever dared dream.

  Tenderly, Brian kissed his soft cheek, a cheek free of male facial hair thanks to a lifetime of hormone injections. “Morgan is going to ask Dad to move in here with us. I’m asking you to stay, too.”

  “Oh, Brian! You don’t know what that means. Of course, I’ll be with you.”

  Brian held a little tighter and nuzzled a little closer. “And I hope now you can feel a little freer to be who you are.”

  Alex suddenly went limp in Brian’s arms. “You can’t know what this means.”

  “I don’t want you to be the family’s fag anymore. I want you to be my mom. So please...go change.”

  Alex’s tears were profuse on Brian’s naked chest. He couldn’t tear himself away from this affection, this acceptance. Only slowly, Brian guided him to the closet and removed the very stodgy silk robe in favor of the chiffon negligée. He pulled the boxer shorts down and off, sliding the panties up.

  “Oh, Brian…” Easily, he stepped into the satin slippers.

  “You’re okay.”

  “I think I am.” Alex sighed. Easily, he was led to the bathroom where he was placed on a stool before the mirror to apply make-up.

  “Be as comfortable as I am.”

  * * * *

  Morgan lay entangled in Jerry’s arms, letting the last orgasmic tremors melt within her. Yet her only concern was for him and Brian. The disappointment Brian must feel over his mother, the anger in Jerry.

  “You know, I’ve watched you long enough now to know that you never play defense,” she commented.

  He grinned. “Too hard to fight your way out of a corner, isn’t it? Gets messy, doesn’t it?”

  She nodded. “So how ‘bout this? How ‘bout we invite a reporter and a camera in for the wedding. Do a quick little interview with them. Show the world that even people who have everything can be in love, too.”

  He paused staring into her, assessing her. His smile stretched into a grin. “And answer all those ugly little rumors with what...the truth?”

  “Offense, my love.”

  “Do you really think you can handle that?”

  “If some bitch named Renee can impress you, at least give me the opportunity.”

  “Ahhh. Why, Morgan McFaye, that sounds like jealousy.”

  She unwound herself to slide onto his body. “I’m better than any bitch you’ll ever pick up off the street.”

  “Why, yes, you are.” He stroked her a little. “And the idea does have merit. So you’re suggesting we just open up all the closet doors?”

  Her shoulders shimmied a little, setting her breasts in motion. “With maybe a few ribbons and bows wrapped around it.”

  So wholly amused, he smiled. “I, uhh...Cheryl isn’t someone I’d want to talk about, though.”

  She paused. She watched for any little sign of affection he might still feel for his ex-wife, but found none. She understood he didn’t need revenge, only distance. “You’re a good man.”

  “No one has ever said that before.”

  “You’ve never let anyone have the best of you...until now.”

  He opened his arms and drew her to him. So warm, still bubbling it seemed.

  “You’re mine, you know.” He grasped a little firmer, the hold on her breasts impossible to break.

  “Am I the only woman you’ll ever need?”

  Jealous little thing, he thought. “You wanna hear a secret?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Before you... I’d never disciplined a woman... ever.”

  Her breath escaped to think that she could have possibly been the first. “Kitty was first.” Then she thought about it. “And then there was Brian’s old girlfriend.”

  “Oh...” He wasn’t ready to reveal that sometimes Renee was also Randi. Most of the time, s/he was Cousin It. “I don’t think Renee counts. Renee’s kinda like...I don’t know...furniture. You just get used to it.”

  “Furniture?” Morgan was now even more curious about this woman, a woman who more than anything liked to go fishing, described first as a slut puppy and now furniture.

  “So...let’s go check on your wedding plans.”

  * * * *

  His arm around her shoulder, hers around his waist, they walked the length of the hallway to the last door on the right. At the door, she wrapped around him for yet another hug. He held his lips to her forehead a moment and then rapped. “Alex!”

  “Come, precious,” Alex cried.

  Jerry opened it and let Morgan pass before him. Brian brightened immediately and rose from the chair where Alex had him crossing lines through a list.

  “I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” Brian sang.

  Broadly, she smiled, so eager to go to him, yet reticent in the presence of Jerry. But Jerry pushed her forward and she ran into Brian’s waiting arms.

  Alex stared self-consciously at Jerry. He hadn’t expected to see Jerry tonight, and certainly not while dressed as a woman.

  Jerry stared back, unable to turn away. The soft brown hair lightened by dyes, the narrow nose. The dark eyes, hollow cheeks, lips dusted with rose. The moment drew long as they stared.

  “How ‘bout a drink?” Alex asked of Jerry.

  “I was afraid you’d forgotten your impeccable manners.”

  Alex snapped his fingers loudly and screeched, “Scotch!” The slave rose, his body so gorgeous with a flowing gait, a terribly sturdy physique, and such incomprehensible grace. Curiously, Alex smiled to see Jerry so horribly engrossed.

  “What is all this?” Morgan broke Alex’s attention. She saw the floral arrangements of royal blue and black, beautiful satin bows and tiny strands of pearls flowing freely. “They’re beautiful.”

  “All for you, Precious,” Alex said surely. His eyes glittered as he went to her and Brian. “These lovely things are just the mock-ups I did in silk so the florist would know what to do...even though I had to send to Bolivia for black roses. And France for ribbon, good Lord. Everything in your wedding will be as fresh as you.”

  Slowly, she tore away from the elegance stated in something so simple as flowers. “You are the sweetest man.”

  He pointed to the end of the room where her bouquet hung from the armoire door.

  She sighed, her lovely long nails pressed to her lips to see the chain of lilies opened
as if to the morning sun, the ropes of pearls playing shamelessly between them as might tiny sprites in the woodlands. Miles of royal blue ribbons would loop lazily to her feet, daisies and baby’s breath, and only the softest hint of green in the tiny leaves. “Alex,” she breathed. Wantonly, she stared and then broke loose to rush to it, to carefully remove it from the door and hold it in her hand. So filled with delirium, she turned, straightened and started to weep.

  “Perfect,” Jerry breathed to his brother.

  “Ah but there’s more,” Alex assured him. “Come, baby, let’s make sure your dress fits.”

  “No,” Brian gasped. “That has to be a surprise.”

  “Well, how are we going to know if it fits?” Alex screeched.

  “Take her measurements right now,” Brian shot back.

  Alex only rolled his eyes. “Alright.” Brian grabbed the bouquet and slung it over the door and then he stood behind her, his heat so near and opened the sash of her robe. Gently, his fingers slid over her shoulders to puddle the satin on the floor at her feet.

  She hadn’t noticed that Cherry slipped through the opened door, terribly engrossed in this. Never had anything been so erotic as this, and she swallowed it down like rare wine. To have the undivided attention, the wanton stares; most of all, Brian’s hardness pressed behind her.

  To see her standing so languidly in a shimmering pool of satin, Alex cooed, “Ohhh, like Venus risen from the sea.” He advanced and wrapped the tape around her upper body and snugged it across her breasts. Brian wrote it down. Alex wrapped the tape around her rib cage and let his eyes roll back to do the math. “Forty. You were right. Double D. Perfect. Twenty-seven...thirty-six hips. But, honey, if you gain so much as a pound, we won’t be able to pour you into it. Take off five and you’ll look smashing.”

  “Consider it done.” She swelled with the attentions of these men. Even Jerry was smiling, so entertained to watch her being handled, knowing how much she enjoyed it.

  “Baby.” She turned quickly to see a poster-sized picture hung from the closet door. Incomprehensibly she stared at it, an exquisite structure of white lattice and intricate fretwork sporting bins of flowers and bows, torches to burn brightly and the arch in the middle where they would stand to be married.

  “I can’t believe this.” She fell to a swoon.

  “You love it?”

  “It’s beautiful.” She looked from the picture to him. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Ah, sweetheart. I’ve missed you so much.” Tenderly, he wrapped her in his arms and she shook a little, but he released her. “And of course, I have a honeymoon planned...a private yacht to float around the Caribbean for a couple of weeks.”

  “Sounds wonderful!”

  “Yeah, but I was thinking. Given this rather exciting turn of events...” He turned to his father. “...how would the Villa suit you? For the entire family.”

  Jerry seemed to tighten as he glanced at Alex. “You want all of us to be there for your Honeymoon?”

  “I’d like that a lot. It’s not like the place can’t accommodate all of us and then some.”

  Jerry looked away for a moment. To have to see the villa again made his heart cease. But to be there with Morgan and Brian... Perhaps they could help him through it. “Sounds wonderful. I’ll arrange it tomorrow. Thank you.”

  “Villa?” Morgan cried.

  “In the rolling hills of Tuscany, darling. Where the grapes ferment on the vine.”

  The prospect astonished her. “You own a villa in Italy?”

  “Yes, Baby. Alex and I.” He was so wholly in love with her naiveté. “And we’ll go on our private jet, and get driven in limos, take our servants and stay for probably a month. When was the last time you saw the Vatican?”

  “Never.”

  “Then we’ll hang out in Rome for a week and you and Alex can get properly outfitted for next spring.”

  She could do nothing more than stare blatantly as Alex shivered to hear the acceptance in Jerry’s statement. And then she turned to Brian, a bit overwhelmed.

  “It’s alright, baby,” Brian whispered affectionately. “We’ll take care of you.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Jerry said. He drank down the scotch. “And you’ll put my clothes together?”

  “Of course, precious,” Alex cooed.

  Morgan turned to Alex, simply beaming. “You are incredible.”

  “No, baby, you are. You’ve made my son so very, very happy. My entire family is living and breathing again.”

  She rolled her eyes a little to express her own happiness. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

  “You’ve done quite enough for me, and I thank you for that.”

  “Thank you. Thank you so much for all of this.”

  Quietly, she stepped away and went over to Brian, who held her robe. The strain in Jerry’s voice was evident when he said, “That’s enough for today. We’re going to bed.” What caused that strain wasn’t so obvious.

  Quickly, Morgan darted toward him. “C’mon, boy,” he offered to Brian.

  “What about me?” Cherry chirped.

  “Move it,” he commanded.

  Alex smiled as one by one they disappeared through the door leaving a little kiss hovering in the air. Morgan had definitely reawakened Jerry from a thirty-seven year horror. All Alex had to do was give him a reason to live.

  Chapter Three

  Comfortably nestled in what was once a king-sized bed shrunken with the mass of four adults, Cherry lay in Jerry’s embrace, and Brian in Morgan’s. Morgan lay on her side, her head propped in her hand the same as Jerry.

  “We need a bigger bed,” Jerry commented.

  “Dad,” Brian started. “Morgan and I were talking...”

  “Finally,” Jerry said sarcastically.

  Brian winced. “Anyway, we we’re kinda hoping you’d move in here with us.”

  It sounded wonderful. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. Simply wonderful. “That’s very generous. I’ll think about it.”

  Rather than let him think about it, Morgan offered, “You’re welcomed to bring in your construction crew and knock out a few walls if you’d like. Get you a little more space.”

  “I thought this will be a bed and breakfast someday,” he retorted.

  Broadly, she smiled. “I think you know me well enough to know that this place wasn’t gonna be on the list of ‘Places to Visit’ put out by the State Board of Tourism.”

  And now he smiled. “Excuse me?”

  “It was going to be something a little more private so guys like you could bring your slaves, your Mistresses, or borrow one of mine for the weekend.”

  “Ahh...a little S/M place with bondage and discipline served up for dessert?”

  “The best little whorehouse in Ohio,” she said happily.

  So terribly amused, he smiled. “And now?”

  “All bets are off. So if you and Alex would like to turn the five rooms in the east wing into adjoining suites you’re certainly welcomed to do that. Or if you’d like to build an addition, or a house next door...whatever you’d like.”

  Graciously, he smiled. “That’s very generous. I know I’m not going back to the Mansion or the penthouse. Whatever it is, we need a bigger bed. Go to sleep, children.” He switched the light off, terribly exhausted.

  In the dark, Cherry cried, “What about me?”

  “What about you?” Jerry breathed holding her in his arms.

  “Where am I supposed to live?”

  “St. Maarten.”

  “What if I don’t want to live in St. Maarten anymore?”

  “You work in St. Maarten.”

  “But I was thinking about a career change.”

  “You’re thirty three. You’re not old enough for a career change.”

  Audibly, Cherry huffed. “Brian, talk to him.”

  “You can stay here, too.” He turned toward Morgan to nuzzle between her breasts.

  The sounds of the night filtered thro
ugh the open atrium door. Jerry closed his eyes, the back of the body forced against his front warm and soothing.

  Only moments passed and he drifted away from them, away into the soft sunshine where he and his lover had just come from the gardens. His lover entwined in his arm, they wandered up the gently curving staircase to their bedroom. The air in the villa was filled with the scent of roses.

  Gently, he laid his lover back on the bed. The passion was enveloping, transporting him away from the mundane to exist in the ethereal lights. His lips closed on the soft flesh of the neck. His tongue licked at the depression of the collarbone, captured the nipples. Soothed by the softness of that silken underbelly.

  “Don’t ever leave me,” he gasped. Tenderly, he nuzzled at that fur between the legs.

  “No,” his lover murmured. Jerry’s head was clutched with such need, such desire.

  That first penetration of the day was always the sweetest, the moment they joined like opposite forces to quell each other’s need. To satisfy each other’s desire. To simply exist in a vacuum, afire with some supernatural energy. The warmth of the body beneath him, the gentle sighs drawing him deeper, the hands that so softly stroked him.

  About to reach the summit of ecstasy, the most horrible of all sounds assaulted his ears. A single ear-shattering sound of splintering wood, as if Leviathan had risen from the deep to devour him came through the door. Panicked, Jerry looked up to see his father standing before him with that expression of horror, that look of moral indignation visited upon him at regular intervals.

  Audible over his lover’s screams, he heard, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, boy?” His lover backed away, the screams growing more intense against a closed throat.

  But Jerry couldn’t scream. His father’s fingers had wrapped around his throat. His body had been jerked away from the bed and landed on the cold floor some distance away. It seemed he heard more splintering, felt it in his arm this time. But the more immediate pain was in his head where his father’s fingers wrapped into his hair and pulled him to stand. But that pain was quickly dulled by the feel of broken ribs.