4 comments/ 13796 views/ 2 favorites Opening Portals By: Egmont Grigor PORTAL: entrance, gateway, opening, ingress Chapter 1 Spring was nearing its end when First Sergeant Argus Mitchell received his honorable discharge. Invalided home from the Middle East with a shattered hip, the marine had been made whole against after a complete hip reconstruction and receiving extensive psychological therapy, The size of his gratuity made Gus' eyes water. Gus was roaring to go. Those months of intense hospitalization had come close to breaking him but one particular thing had helped him through and it wasn't the prayers of the well-meaning chaplain: it was the nursing. Until falling into the hands of compassionate care, Gus had lusted after and left numerous women in his wake like discarded toys. Under that prolonged nursing care he'd learned about the individuality of women, there was more to women than the power of their return hip thrusts and even hardened females more often than not could reveal a soft center. The nursing staff chided him, educated him and reformed him from his former heartless attitudes. But the Queen Bee amongst them was a buxom redhead physiotherapist assigned to teach him to walk on his rebuilt hip and eventually swim, run, climb and vault until finally he was unable to determine which was his stronger side. At the stage when gradual improvement convinced Gus his left leg would return to good-as-new condition, he joked with Mrs Bennett: "What about sex?" Her reply was succinct: "What about sex?" "Will I be able to work a woman until she's screaming in delight and my left hip won't let me down?" The trainer save an ambiguous reply that left Gus puzzled: "We'll have to see, won't we? Time's up Gus. You've done well today. Please return to your unit." Gus returned briskly to the six-bed unit wondering about the use of Mrs Bennett's word 'we'. Next morning at Mrs Bennett's workout room she locked the door, which was unusual. Minutes later they have their first sexual engagement that left Gus panting and grinning hugely. Mrs Bennett left her Cowgirl position, checked he was physically okay, and then had him stand behind her while she touched her toes, instructing him to bang her doggy style -- although her choice of words were somewhat more refined. Finally she lay on her back and instructed Gus to pump her he ran low on energy. "How do you feel?" she asked. "Like I've been put through a Laundromat. I'm rather out of practice." She chuckled and said she meant his hip. "What's wrong with my hip. Do you have a complaint?" "No, you were even better than I'd anticipated. We could do this every second day, revising your rehabilitation program. It appears the perfect physiotherapy for you." Gus licked his lips. There wasn't much Mrs Bennett could teach Gus about sex apart from the importance to some women of foreplay and graduated from Mrs Bennett's class as expert in clit teasing. Gus was given small ceremony where the Sergeant Major presented him with yet another service medal, to go with his other service medals and awards for heroism. Most of the hospital staff turned out for the parade because Gus had been a popular patient, always ready for a laugh and a tease that had softened since his admission to the rehabilitation facility. The Sergeant Major read out details of First Sergeant Argus Mitchell's citations for bravery. The oohs and aahs flowed from the nursing staff, joined by an auburn-headed physiotherapist who'd now idolized Gus because she'd lost weight in recent months due to the revised workouts. An hour after leaving the camp Gus had purchased clothing, nothing flashy, and a pre-owned nondescript gray Ford. Gus hit the gas pedal and whooped, "Go car go. I've had enough of the Marine Corps and North Carolina." Where to go hadn't been narrowed right down. With his parents deceased, his sister working in an embassy in China and his brother engaged in post-graduate medical studies in Edinburgh, Gus finally made his choice. He aimed for California and decided to see what happened on the way. All he wanted was adventure in reconnecting with civilian life. At Knoxville Gus impulsively changed direction for Cincinnati and after a look around then went on to Indianapolis. That broke the long trip to California but since he was reasonably close he thought he'd head for Illinois for no other reason than he'd always liked the name of that state. Gus entered Illinois having no idea what he'd do as a career. One thing he was sure about after his illicit affairs with soft-centered Mrs Bennett was he'd find a suitable woman to marry and have kids if that's what she wanted. Now thirty-four, he'd been trained as a marine to navigate in the dark over difficult terrain, to parachute, to shoot people dead, kill armed people with his hands, play poker and perform honorably at all times except when mashing the enemy. Of those attributes, playing poker and being of fine upstanding character would be useful in civilian life but he doubted if aware of his other attributes the Mafia or Murder Inc. would take kindly to his ethical attitudes. He had no intention of being retrained. After leaving Indianapolis Gus stopped for lunch at a small town and feeling horny twice attempted to chat up waitresses. Both asked how much would he pay, so he told them to get back to work. Gus returned to his vehicle and noticed he'd parked almost outside a physiotherapy clinic. In the marines he'd been taught survival techniques including infiltrating the enemy's home ground. This time his quarry would be a nicely rounded physiotherapist because he knew what they were good at doing: coordinating physically. Gus thought out a plan. Collecting his medical file from the trunk he marched forward with a faint smile of a man on a secret mission from which he expected success. Dead easy, huh? "I'd like to see a consultant practitioner please ma'am." The tired-faced fat woman receptionist asked, "And you are...?" "Gus." She glared. "I mean your full name so I can check my appointment book." "I want to consult a consultant first." "You'll need an appointment for that," said the woman, growing noticeably cross. Gus remained staunch, as trained. "The consultant will decide whether I need an appointment." The rude woman barked, "Just a minute. She muttered into the phone, "Billie, trouble at front desk. Do I call the security firm? Okay." She turned to the most unpopular guy she'd faced in a month and practically spat, "Miss Jones the owner of this practice will be with us in a moment." "You mean she'll be with me, don't you?" Gus heard the thin-lipped receptionist pass wind. A cute blonde came through an office doorway looking a little peculiar in her body stance. Gus took it as an amateur she was adopting a defensive unarmed combat position. She looked at Gus -- he was six-two and appeared three feet across -- and she said "Oh God." Gus figured she didn't mean him. Cutie asked the receptionist, "What is your problem?" Before the enemy responded, Gus said, "This rude receptionist insists I make an appointment to see a consultant when I want to see a consultant about whether I should make an appointment." "Is this what you call a problem Mary?" "Well yes, but frankly I don't like his attitude. He's too demanding." The blonde appeared uncertain what to do. "Are you Billie?" The blonde looked at Gus surprised and said yes. "This room beside us is free. Give me a quick consultation. Get Grumpy here to tell your patient you have dysentery and you'll be back in ten." "I really don't think..." The blonde began laughing. She turned to Grumpy and said, "Mary, please tell Mr Owens I've been unavoidably delayed and will return in ten. I mean ten minutes. Come this way Mr...?" "Gus." Billie walked into the side-room and Gus followed, closing the door. "Um, I would prefer the door being left open." "Are you afraid of me?" "No." "I thought not. Here's my file. I've been driving long hours and thought I should get my hip checked out expertly. So check me out advise should make an appointment." Examining x-ray film of the fragmentation of his left hip and surrounding area, Billie said. "It's amazing you can walk even when patched-up. Did you fall into a rock crusher?" Gus grinned. "Good guess but no, a bullet from a sniper with high-power hardware." "You mean a rifle?" Gus laughed. "You wouldn't recognize it as a rifle." 'You have wonderful teeth," Billie said, and then looked as if she wished she hadn't said that. Gus was encouraged. "And you have wonderful breasts." Billie looked as if she wished he hadn't said that and blushed. "Hop up on the examination couch and I'll check your hip." Gus dropped his trousers. He wore very brief briefs. He was offered a gown but jumped up on to the bench without it. "Oh God, that surgical incision scarring." "Yeah, they reckon it was a really major job. I had multiple operations. The jerks put me out when I'd requested just painkillers because I wanted to see what they were doing to my body." Billie felt around the hip and then extended the left leg slightly, pulled away from the body and folded that leg across Gus' right leg, each time asking was there any pain. He said no. "Well Mr Mitchell..." "How do you know my name?" "It says Argus James Mitchell on the cover of your file." "Ah, you got me there. May I date you tonight?" "Mr Mitchell, I really do think..." "I'm just out of long-term in hospital. How else is a guy to get a date unless he asks? You are very cute Billie." "Gus, I'm engaged." "That's lovely Billie. All I'm asking for is a date, starting with dinner; I'm not out to engage in providing you with a life-changing new direction. Where is your fiancé tonight?" "About 200 miles...I shouldn't have said that." "We can eat at the next town if you're embarrassed." "Can we?" "Give me your card. You've thinking yes but I'll call at 6:00 to ensure it's on. Do I require an appointment for manipulation or whatever you guys do?" "No you're fine but somehow I've seemed to have ended up with the appointment." "It's how it's done, isn't it? I'm off to book in somewhere." "Don't bother, Billie sighed and looking awfully cute. "You can stay with me. Whether we sleep together depends on how we get on. Don't phone, call in at 6:15. Everyone will be gone by then. You're a hard-case Gus and very likeable." "Sorry I embarrassed you by complimenting you on your breasts." "No guy has ever come out and said it before dating me Gus. That's what got you the date." "Great Billie. Can't wait to get at them." Three hours later Gus lay on Billie's bed holding a sizeable length of soft tissue. "But Gus, I've never stripped for any guy, ever." "Billie, this thing is no good to you in deflated status. Why aren't you stripping?" Humming and slowly waggling her ass, Billie began removing her clothes and watched what Gus supported in his hand until it became self-supporting. Gus was used to women looking awkward as they shed their panties. Billie looked anything but ungainly and did it with so much grace that when the trimmed pussy slid into view Gus's dick dribbled a bit. Billie saw the glistening and said she'd fetch a tissue. "No, lick it dry." Watching Billie's cheeks bulge and deflate and then sighting the outline of one-third of his cock against that cheek Gus erupted. Billie gobbled and choked. "Okay?" Billie nodded, soaking up tissue after tissue when mopping around her mouth and chin. Eyes huge, Billie asked: "Have you not had fellatio since being shot? I feel as if I've just had supper?" The grin across Gus' face was akin to having a couple of Purple Hearts pinned to his chest. Billie asked shyly, "Could you teach me Cowgirl and Reverse Cowgirl?" "Sure baby. And anything else you want from my extensive repertoire." The fiancé was away for three nights so in the morning Gus was invited to stay another two nights. Finally when they waved goodbye Gus was sure he was leaving behind a more seasoned woman who now had added the qualification of practical sexologist to her qualifications. * * * Gus enjoyed the freedom of being on the highway but he became a little too relaxed. In open country three miles after passing a gas station the Ford ran out of fuel. He began to walk back for a can of gas, with virtually no vehicles passing him on the narrow two-lane road. Minutes later two cops on highway patrol did a tire-screeching wheelie and came up behind him, siren stabbing out little warnings to stop. Gus stopped and maintained a submissive stance, unusual for him. "Good morning officer." His cheerful greeting had no effect. "Walk back to the vehicle, hands clear of your body," said the cop, hand against his holster. The driver by then was also outside the vehicle, grinning and popping a new piece of gum. "Spread!" "What for?" "It's an offense in this county to loiter on highways. We suspect you of being a male prostitute." "You have to be kidding." The beefy guy, half a head shorter than Gus was keen to have his day. He kicked Gus' left leg for the spread and dunked his head on to the hood with a thump. "Give it to him Charlie," urged the bigger cop. "Show who's boss." As the cop reached for the back pocket wallet Gus, already coiled, spun aground and swatted the cop, hearing cheek bone crunch. The guy fell, screaming. Gus dived across the hood and brushed the other cop's hand away from his gun. By the time Gus regained his feet the cop had his handgun out. Gus kicked the cop's knee and grabbed the handgun, whacked it across the cop's nose and then put him to sleep with another whack over the head. Gus was relieved the road was very quiet but just as he lifted the second cop off the road a bearded guy in a red one-tonner came by. "Oh no!" Gus groaned The driver honked his horn and yelled at Gus, "Way to go brother' and drove on with no sign of accelerating away heavily to summons emergency services. Gus laid the cop out beside the other cop who was groaning, holding his nose. He disabled the vehicle and opened the trunk to find what he wanted: No, not the shotgun, rather the emergency can of gas. Back at his vehicle, Gus threw the empty can far into a small wilderness and changed into a white shirt. He donned a baseball cap and removed his sunglasses, changing his basic identity as much as he could. Passing the disabled cop car Gus saw the guy with a broken nose talking on the car radio and swore. Obviously they'd had a backup battery. He drove on and the cop, holding a handkerchief to his nose, didn't bother looking at Gus. Within a five minutes three cop cars went by coming from the direction Gus was heading. They were racing towards the two cops in trouble, lights flashing, sirens sounding. Obviously a manhunt would be underway within minutes. Gus knew to keep calm and think. The good thing was the base for the cops was up ahead; not very far away it would appear. Gus booked into the safest place he could imagine. A boarding house just opposite police HQ and parked the gray car in the rear parking lot as soon as he'd booked in. The woman who ran the joint was nothing to look at and had a big mouth, stupidly telling Gus her husband was away at work and guests who were staying were out doing their business and other guests coming in would not begin arriving until after 3:00. She then invited Gus out the back to have coffee. So he used that opportunity defensively. He invited her to perform fellatio and she didn't have to be asked twice because he was big and handsome. Cleaning up she revealed her son was a cop and worked across the street. "Maud, if I shaft you across this table will you forget I was ever here?" "Yes, provided you give it to me again tomorrow morning about this time. I'm surprised you will do this to an older woman like me. You are a naughty man." As Gus plugged away with some distaste he hoped her son hadn't been one of the two cops he'd bashed. Next morning he read in the local newspaper about two cops being bashed by a cop-hating hitchhiker suspected of being a male prostitute. The cop photographed with his nose in plaster described the assailant as five-eleven, hooked nose, weak chin, blonde hair and balding and wearing a smart striped suit. Gus chuckled at the mis-description and wondered if these cops in this town ever got their man unless they caught him red-handed. As he was leaving after paying his discounted bill, a blonde cop entered who rather fitted the description of the assailant. "Good morning officer," Gus said confidently and the cop nodded and smiled. The cop then continued on and called, "Hi mom. Gosh, you look well, like a cat that's just feasted on cream." Gus drove carefully that day, not wanting to attract the attention of cops. * * * In Chicago, Gus was hired as doorman at a club, popular with young people. But it lasted only five hours. Lenny has led Gus into 'the boss' to be interviewed. Gus had to grin. The boss was tubby, wearing a striped shirt and drop suspenders and a hat and smoking a fat cigar, aping a 1940s Hollywood concept of a gangster. "What are you grinning at punk?" "You," Gus laughed. "Toss him out Lenny. He don't look or talk mean enough to work the door." Lenny grabbed Gus by the arm, so Lenny howled in pain, looking at his two dislocated fingers. The boss reached for his right-hand drawer. Gus pushed the desk, pinning the boss and his chair against the wall, ripping the desk phone from its floor connection. Gus growled, "Do I get the job?" "The boss nodded and said, "Providing you pull my desk back into its proper position." "Okay, but if you reach for your gun I'll swat you." "What gun?" the boss asked, looking puzzled. "In your top right-hand drawer." The boss said his cigar had gone out. He kept his lighter in that drawer. "Get your instructions from Jessie in the office downstairs but don't fuck around with her, she's tough." "Okay boss," Gus said, earning a big smile from his employer. Gus stepped over tough-guy Lenny, on the floor sucking his fingers. At reception he received instructions from Jessie and they were pretty straightforward and the pay was good. But he decided to take the boss's instruction and not fuck around with her. Jessie looked to be at least sixty-five. She was wearing a hat so it was difficult to be more precise about age. That night at 9:00 Gus took his position at the door. Looking menacing in his black clothes and black hat with white band, Gus told the waiting people, mainly females, to line up in pairs and proceed in orderly when the doors opened. He allowed thirty-six in and then barred entry until a big bunch of noising guys, mostly drunk, arrived. He let them in. An hour later the manager barked into Gus' earphone, "Let more babes in you asshole. That heap of guys you sent in are fighting because there are not enough females in here." "Right, only females are to go in," Gus said, riled at being called an asshole. He admitted some three hundred females until only guys were left. Someone inside phoned a complaint that the club was illegally over-crowded and women were fighting to get at the insufficient number of guys. The cops arrived. The angry boss arrived. The club was closed down and the cops took the boss and club manager away to book them. "You're fired, you asshole," the boss screamed at Gus. Gus waited until nobody was around. He kicked down the door and ignoring the alarm smashed through into the office, ripped the locked steel cabinet under Jessie's desk off its hinges and from the pile of money exposed took his $600 (he was to work till dawn) and walked off, watching two security cars, lights flashing, race to the premises he'd just vacated. Opening Portals Gus left Chicago within the hour. * * * Drifting between towns Gus had a free bed and meals clearing the overgrown half-acre property of an elderly couple, erecting a new fence around a cemetery (sleeping in the church but eating with the pastor and his wife), assisting to sell pickles at a farmers' market and then spent a month assisting a debt collector in his work fraught with danger. At times Gus wondered why he'd left the marines until remembering it was his decision. He decided to move on to the next city and attempting to enter found his way blocked by a traffic diversion. "What's up?" he asked to the blonde red-eyed female cop who came over and ordered him to turn on to the bypass like everyone else. "It's a hostage situation at a school. Two of our female offices went in to negotiate and now they are hogtied. The guys who we were chasing after they robbed a bank used the school video equipment to film their hostages and then emailed the clip that's now showing on one of those Internet tube sites It's humiliating the police, the mayor is furious and my darling is the teacher in there with the seventeen 7-year-olds." "Your lesbian lover?" "No you fool, my younger sister." "Let my through. I'm an ex-marine who came out of covert action in Iraq alive." "That's obvious," sniffed the cop, indicating she was thinking incisively. "Look officer. Let me through and I'll take a look. My training is much more advanced than even what your Swat team guys receive." "All right, but no weapons do you hear? We want everyone out alive." "And the felons?" "You can fuck and kill the felons for all I care." Gus grimaced. "Steady on babe, the felons are guys." The sobbing cop undid the tape and waved Gus through. Gus stopped just short of a bunch of cops having a pow-wow in the middle of the road. Swat guys with rifles surrounded him. A police lieutenant emerged from the group huddle and faced Gus. "How the hell did you get in here?" "The cop re-directing traffic up there a bit let me through. I said she had the choice of fucking me or letting me through." "Baker and Moss, arrest this guy for obstructing the police in execution of their duty and putting a police civic emergency at risk." "She said two female cops are hostages as well as her sister and her sister's second graders. I promised to get them out. Imagine the bad press if another two cops go down and half the kids die in crossfire if the Swat teams let rip." "Wait, Baker. Who the hell are you?" "Former Marine First Sergeant Argus Mitchell, ex Special Forces Lebanon, Palestine, Iran and Iraq. My ID is in my shirt pocket." "Get it for me Moss." The lieutenant examined the ID. "Okay, you appear to be who you say your are. What now?" "I want to go in and take a look." "Okay, you're passing through so if you get blown away that's no loss to this city. You are ex-marine. We can't arm a civilian." "That's fine, I don't want to shoot up kids anyway. Just give me two cans of pepper spray and a mirror." "We don't have a mirror with us." Gus sighed. "Moss, wrench a mirror off a vehicle. No, not that one that's my car. Get one off that pick-up and keep the extension attached." The cop trotted back with the mirror. "Well done Moss," Gus said. "You're promoted to temporary sergeant. Okay if I go in lieutenant?" "Yes, try not to gut a bullet up your ass." The lieutenant called to another minion, "Elliot, advise all units we have a guy in jeans and a black shirt going in." Gus eyed a detective in a flak jacket. "I want his white shirt." "Give Rambo your shirt, Jacobson. We'll replace it." Gus walked down towards the entrance of the school block where the felons were holed up, carrying a stick from which the white shirt flapped. He recalled the 1990 film 'Kindergarten Cop' and wondered if he would be as successful as Arnold Schwarzenegger had been. Of course this wasn't Hollywood. The lieutenant bellowed through his bullhorn to the hostage-takers, "We have an expert civilian negotiator coming in." Fucking amateurs, Gus thought. The lieutenant should have warned this was the bank robbers' last chance. An expert civilian negotiator was coming in. If that failed everyone in that classroom would be blown into pieces. Everyone." Two guys pointing sawn-off shotguns met Gus at the doorway. Before they could speak he said he was carrying two cans of water but had two .32s strapped under his armpits. The guys looked at one another nervously and then, as they looked in the direction of his armpits, he pepper sprayed them and dropping the cans clubbed both of them over their Adam's apple. Pulling police handcuffs hanging from his belt over his backside he cuffed them. Gus pulled a knife off one of the guys and nodded approvingly -- well balanced for throwing. Using the mirror Gus could see a guy across the adjoining empty classroom with a short-barrel rifle guarding the door into the next room. The bandit had earphones on, plugged into an I-Pod on his belt and movement of his head suggested the beat was Hip-Hop. Holding the two shotguns by the barrels Gus walked toward him and called loudly, "The boss wants these." The guy, obviously an amateur, opened his eyes and didn't even looked startled when he lifted his earphones and asked, "What?" "The boss wants these." "What boss?" That's when Gus swung both unloaded shotguns and dropped the stupid guy, stone cold. He cuffed him. Using the mirror again Gus saw a guy just inside the door with a long-barrel shotgun and was very happy about that. It would take the guy some time to lift it to shoot him. Another guy was ten feet away, just a little forward of presumably the teacher with a great looking bust. Gus knew he'd have to go for him first because the guy only have to take half a step back to shelter behind the adult hostage and he could pull the revolver in his belt and fire at Gus at will. Steadying his breathing, Gus calmly pulled the glass door back, handed a shotgun to the guy with his back to him saying, "This is for you." The guy automatically took it. Gus took aim and threw the knife. It flew past the teacher and the lead-weighted handle struck the other felon between the eyes. He fell against the teacher who screamed, disturbing the kids who yelled. Gus turned and knocked cold the guy holding two shotguns who'd been unable to decide what one to use. Gus then kicked open the outside doors facing the police and sharp shooters and yelled, "The kids are coming out." "Come on kids, no running. Walk across the playground and up the slope to those friendly policemen who want to save you. Walk quietly in one line. You darling, you walk in front. Start singing 'Baa-baa Black Sheep'." "That's for little kids. We know better songs than that." "Do as you're told dear or I'll paddle your butt. Go on. Um -- please." "Okay. Everyone follow me. 'Baa-Baa Black Sheep...'." Television news cameras recorded the exodus for the networks. Meanwhile the schoolteacher slapped Gus when he kissed her and patted a tit. "You fool," she screamed. "You almost killed me with that knife." "If I had wanted to kill you, you wouldn't have seen the knife," Gus said, thinking what an ungrateful bitch. Perhaps it was shock. There was only one set of handcuffs left, so Gus cuffed the teacher's hands behind her back so she couldn't slap him again and pushed her out the door after the kids, helping her on the way with a shoe pushed against her butt. He cut the two women cops free. They kissed him and promised him unrestrained sex. That gave Gus some erotic thoughts. He slapped both robbers awake and handed each policewoman a shotgun. "March them uphill and be on TV news as heroines." Gus then disappeared. The Swat team rushed the building and found the other two robbers and in the robbers' vehicle from which they recovered all the bank loot. But there was no sign of Grade 2 Hero. Grade 2 Hero had circled around the school, watched by Swat team riflemen wondering what he was doing now, and returned to his vehicle still parked in the middle of the street. Gus drove off quietly, wanting to get out of town. He picked up the newspaper next morning aghast. There was a front-page picture of himself plus a picture of the sobbing teacher surrounded by her students. The heading screamed, 'Where's Grade 2 Hero ex-Marine First Sergeant Argus Mitchell?' The story made him sound like a one-man-army who'd done what fifty police officers and two Swat teams had been unable to achieve -- the release without injury of seventeen second graders, their teacher and two female police hostages, as well as the five bank robbers who after treatment from the ex-Marine hero, were a little worse for wear but alive. The reporter wrote, "Schoolteacher Sue White said she wished to reward the hero 'The best way I know how'. Amazingly the two freed policewomen, whom the hero had attempted to turn into heroines, used exactly the same words in separate interviews; they wanted to reward the hero the best way they knew how. All three women refused to elaborate." The police lieutenant, who obviously had remembered Gus' name while someone had covertly photographed Gus, said the hero had gone in unarmed. "No wonder that guy walked out of Iraq in one piece. We'd like to pin a police medal on him and find out how he did it. Our arrested suspects seemed to be rather vague about what happened. There are also perhaps seventeen lots of parents and grandparents who'd like to shake super hero's hand." Gus thought that squared up things after the incident earlier in the month when he'd bashed up two stroppy cops, but he rather thought those police guys and police HQ might not see it that way. He paid for his overnight accommodation and slipped out of Illinois, crossing state lines and ending up in Colorado. Chapter 2 Gus had spent three weeks on leave in Denver a couple of years back, and had met a sweet gal called Debra, married to an airline pilot. Who knows, perhaps they'd had enough and had parted. He decided to visit Debra mid-afternoon, thinking a working husband was unlikely to be home then. Gus rang the bell. A very pregnant Debra came to the door and was delighted to see him. "You're still married," he sighed. She patted her stomach. "I hope so, but my best friend Betsy isn't and I tell her she should drop her current guy for you. Come in. She's on a chair beside the pool sunbathing." Instantly, from what he saw, Gus didn't have to guess Betsy had great boobs -- they were bared and spread across her chest. Gus stayed an hour and when it became apparent Betsy was not taking to him at all, he finished his drink and said goodbye. "Where are you staying?" Debra asked. Gus told her and Debra said she'd get someone to give him a call. Two nights later a slightly breathless female said, "My sister Debbie thinks we should meet. Are you interested?" Gus yawned and said, "I don't know why Debra is doing this?" "She said she owes you one for giving her a whole heap of them." "Of what?" "It doesn't matter, you don't seem to be up to speed. How old are you?" "Thirty-four." "Oh, that explains it." "Okay, how old are you?" "Had my twenty-first birthday five weeks back." "Oh." The caller laughed. "This is not going to work is it granddad?" "Cheeky bitch." "Oh, the tail wags." "Listen, do you want to fuck me or not?" There was a pause; Gus could hear her breathing so knew she was thinking, probably working out how to kick his butt. "I've never had anyone talk to me like that before." "Well, my apologies. I'm used to talking to adult women." "I thought it was the guy who did the fucking?" "Depends who wants it most. Good lovers work in unison." "I've never gotten to feeling of real urge. Being in bed with a guy has been rather ho-hum for me." "Look, you seem rather too tentative for me. It was very lovely of you to call but..." "My name is Farrah." "Lovely name." "Thank you. Am I permitted to change my mind?" "Women expect men to say yes, so yes but just this once." "You sound interesting. I'd like to meet you." "Very well. At a bar?" "No, my parent's home. They will be nervous about me meeting a much older man. My mom is touchy about such things. It's been a nightmare for my brother and my next oldest sister. However Debra was such a rebel she just ignored mom and dad and got away with whatever she wanted. I guess you knew Debra intimately?" "Very intimately. It's great she's about to have a baby. She'll be a great mother." "Mother doesn't think so." "Tell you mother there's more than one way to skin a cat." "I'm glad you care for Debra." Farrah gave Gus the address and said to be there tomorrow at 7:30. "Mom and dad always have pre-dinner drinks them. That could lessen the shock." * * * Anticipating he'd be expected to make a good impression, Gus had his hair tidied next day and purchased a pair of very dark blue Italian kid leather shoes. He wore them with his gray suit, collarless white suit and the gold medallion he'd purchased to convince Farrah he was with it. Daddy and mommy are in the money, Gus thought, as he skipped up the steps to the impressive white house. Debra had never talked about her family so he hadn't a clue what daddy did. Perhaps he printed money? Electricity seemed to fire between them as Farrah opened the door. Gus knew he'd knocked her for a six because she stared, slowly put a hand to her throat and swallowed. He could be wrong, badly off center, but Gus thought that added up to a favorable impression. Farrah was in a simple white dress, scooped neck that ended mid-thigh and topped by a gold pendant that seemed similar to the one Gus was wearing. Farrah was almost as tall as he was, a bit light in the boobs department but she had raven hair and a very beautiful face. Her waist and hips gave her a very slim look and her legs where looooong. She wore dark blue Italian kid leather shoes and when Gus looked up he realized she was staring at his shoes. "Do we kiss?" he asked confidently. "Yes, but I must advise it's not the done thing in this neighborhood to fuck on the doorstep." Gus was only just quick enough to catch the wicked smile before she concealed it. "That's good, I've stopped doing it on the doorstep. Too many women complain of butt rash from the stiff-haired doormat." Farrah gurgled as she suppressed her laughter. She looked for signs that he was joking but met only a straight-faced stare. They kissed gently, both with eyes remaining open. Then Gus dropped his hands over her ass and caught the lower secondary skin folds -- there wasn't much there -- and squeezed. Farrah jumped a couple of inches and said, "Thank God, I had the thought I was plunging into disaster with a guy without hot blood pulsating through his veins. "I'll give you something else hot and pulsating to hold later this evening." "Down boy," Farrah said, taking his arm. "Tell me where Gus comes from as mother will ask me. Is it from Augustus or Gustave or Gustav?" None of them. It's shortened from my given name, Argus. Do you think you're going to like me?" "I think so." They walked into a room that wasn't the lounge, which was just beyond it, nor a den nor a TV lounge. Gus thought it must be the pre-dinner drinks room. "Mother, this is a new acquaintance of mine, Gus Mitchell. Gus please greet my mother Miriam Ashton-Walsh." Gus watched what he thought was rejection rise up to cover the woman's face. "Good evening Mrs Ashton-Walsh or should I call you Miriam?" "Well I...Miriam I suppose." "Hello young man. I'm Mr Ashton-Walsh but Clive will be just fine. A Martini?" "Yes thank you, Vodka based." "Ah, a man after my own taste. These women favor gin. Tell me Gus, how did you meet my daughter?" "Our relationship is very tenuous. I saw her in a bar and asked around and a friend of Farrah's gave me the phone number." "At bar?" asked the mother, almost choking. "Yes, but Farrah wasn't one of the young women dancing on the table tops. I called Farrah last night, became my most persuasive, and here I am." "Table top dancing?" "Yes Miriam. It was a bit of a dive but the group Farrah was with stayed for only one drink. They were all women and appeared shocked to find themselves amid lesbians, divorcees and hookers." "Oh God." "I'm new in the city and my landlady recommended that bar. I only had one drink and was out of there myself. I assure you Mr and Mrs Ashton-Walsh, should Farrah and I connect I can assure you we will go very much more up-market." "Connect" Miriam quavered. "It sounds like sex, doesn't it Miriam, and now that you've raised the point that it's bound to happen because your daughter is a stunning young woman in need of the very best. No, by connect, I was just meaning if we find ourselves on the same wavelength we'll see where that takes us." "Y-you mean bed d-don't you?" "Very perceptive Miriam or was that also the way in your day you were a socialite gadfly?" "I-I..." "Another drink Gus?" "Just iced water Clive. We'll have a glass of wine with dinner, which will be enough for me because I'll be driving." The pause allowed Gus to look at Farrah, who was staring at him wide-eyed. "Both your parents appear very modern Farrah, as you say, up with it." "Y-yes." Clive arrived with Gus' water and a plate of beautifully arranged nibbles. Gus said no thanks to the food; he wanted to remain in fighting trim." "I must say you have the figure of a gladiator Gus," Clive said. "What is your profession?" "At present I'm unemployed." Miriam spluttered into her napkin. "Well what were you doing before that?" "Oh blowing up bridges, recovering hostages, assassinating dangerous assholes, going in at night looking for missile sites, that sort of thing." "You mean working for the Mafia," Miriam whispered. "No dear. That sounds like Special Forces on foreign service," Clive said. "Ohmigod...just a moment." Clive left the room. Miriam said what Gus had done sounded dangerous work Farrah looked at Gus and said anxiously, "You didn't tell me you were without work." "I will find something soon but there's no pressure. When I was paid off from the marines I also received three extra payments including one from Washington for performing extraordinary acts. But forget the bullshit about heroism. The payments swelled my bank account to almost $1.6 million." Clive entered the room triumphantly. "Found it, almost at the bottom of the newspaper pile. This is you isn't it, First Sergeant Argus Mitchell?" As Clive was pointing to the photographs of the successful ending to the school hostage drama involving bank robbers, he nodded and quietly said yes. "Ohmigod, I'm dating a hero," Farrah said while her mother looked as if she'd been run over by a truck. As Farrah and Gus were leaving, he kissed Farrah's mother and said, "Do you find me acceptable Miriam." "The jury's out; I'll have to think about it." "Well, just remember it doesn't matter to me what you think Miriam and I'm sure it will be Farrah who decides when and whom she dates. Good night, and thank you for the lovely hospitality. Good night Clive. Nice meeting you. I rated you as the perfect host until you walked in with that newspaper. You and I have given your wife a rough evening." Gus received an earful outside the house. "I can't believe you dreamed up that story and lied to mom how we met." "So you would have preferred me saying you called me because your sister told you I was a good fuck. You mom would have then wanted to know how did Debra know that, or the very least how did I know Debra. Where would that have left you?" Opening Portals "Oh, you saved Debra and me from embarrassment didn't you? You are an astonishing thinker. But you did embarrass me -- you practically told mom you and I would be fucking tonight. I can't believe you would upset her like that." "Don't you see, I threw her into a spin, attempting to convinced her it was she who raised the subject. It appeared to have worked -- I opened the portal for you to move into freedom, and emphasized that again just when we were leaving. Falter and you'll be back under her thumb. Walk through the portal and you'll have your freedom as a young adult and she'll know it. Very little else will change -- you'll still be mother and daughter and she will still be free to express an opinion but not to boss you around. The only change will be is two people acknowledging both are responsible adults. Period." "Well do you mind if I think about that?" "No, take you time but remember what I said about the portal. Tomorrow evening when you tell you mother you are going on another date with me the portal will be there in front of you. The only action that will count will be yours." They walked down to the small gray Ford. Farrah snorted, "I can't ride in this thing." "Well, it was my decision to buy a nondescript car and to keep a low profile. Incidents just seem to happen around me. That's why I haven't gone back to that city for the civic honoring they wish to give me. I've been following it on TV and in the newspapers. The bank wants to give me $30,000 for indirectly recovering the stolen money. I'll go back to receive that soon, asking the police lieutenant I worked with to arrange a secrete meeting. I'll hand him a check for $3000 to the Police Welfare Fund. That's what I mean about keeping a low profile. Who wants fame when it can be a pain in the ass?" "All that is fine but I'm not getting into that car. Call a cab." "Well, in that case this is the end of the line for us Farrah. Goodbye. Walk safely back into the house. We've both wasted our time but it's been fun for both of us I guess." Gus sat in a bar looking sullen. This was not like him. He wasn't having much luck with women. He thought of Billie the cute physiotherapist he'd banged over three nights after she'd given him a free appraisal of his hip. But she'd been happy with her fiancé before Gus had come along. Leave them be, to do otherwise would be villainous. He switched his phone off in case Farrah called. He didn't want to speak to her again, ever. She'd appeared to measure up but when the crunch came, she didn't. Gus was halfway through another bottle of beer when it all clicked into place. If she wasn't married or spoken for, that cop was the one. Chapter 3 Gus watched the blonde policewoman, now changed into civilian clothes and showing an athletic ass in jeans -- not all women showed a good ass in jeans. Gus followed her along the street and smiled when he saw her call in for coffee. She sat looking out the window, in a dream. Gus purchased coffee and approached her table. "Officer, may I join you?" The cop turned carefully to look at him. "Ohmigod, it's our hero. Of course you may join me." The first thing Gus asked was crucial. "Are you with a guy?" Looking puzzled she said yes. "I mean sleeping with him?" "Yes, but not all night if that's what this is about. What is this about?" "My first and only look at you was on the edge of town, re-directing traffic on hostage day. You looked very sexy. Your sister was in danger, you'd been crying, obviously in distress, but you'd been ordered to stop traffic entering the area so you did your duty, steadfastly. I looked at you, blonde hair spilling from under your cap, your eyes red and your cute rounded chin stuck out determinedly, and you were not going to take no shit from me. My mind captured that heroic image. "Heroic, me?" "Sort of. Most other sisters would have collapsed in tears or gone racing up yelling to the cops and the Swats to do something." "I had my orders and was expected to act professionally. I did want to go down there...but...well Mr Mitchell, you'll know how it is. A heroic image you say; that sounds a little sexy?" "Yeah, I've fallen for you." "So that's why you asked was there someone else?" "Yeah, tell him or walk or if you wish I have him disappear, quietly." "Mr Mitchell, enough of that talk. Bruce has rights too." "Bruce? Are you aware that's one of the top names for homosexuals?" "No, I wasn't aware of that. Actually, now you mention it Bruce is ...oh God, what am I saying. Change the subject Mr Mitchell, now!" "What's your name blondie? The newspaper identified you as Officer Cody." "Blondie." Gus caught the slight grin. Ah, a bit of a tease. Give it to me baby." "I'm only giving you my name; it's Geneva -- I hated Genevieve." "I agree, Genevieve is fluffy, rather too cute. Geneva Cody, how sexy." "Would you please stop using that word sexy. It's making my mind become disorderly." "Atta girl Geneva." Geneva blushed and Gus grinned toothily, deepening her blush. "God you are wicked." "Geneva, all you have to do is to tell him you've met someone else and then step back and allow him to make his own decision. Believe me, a guy called Bruce will wipe away a tear and say to you it was great while it lasted, that it wasn't the sex, he also loved you for your femininity. He'll then walk, quietly, turning to say his final goodbye." "Bullshit, he'll become enraged and probably try to knife me." A guy called Bruce? I don't think so Geneva. God, that name has reached my testicles." "Mr Mitchell!" "Gus is okay. Use it." "Gus, you can't talk to me like this, to any woman in fact. It's just not done." "Well, I've just done it." Gus stood after scrawling his phone number and handed it to Geneva. "Give me a call when you've given Bruce his bad news." "I-I have no intention..." "You have coffee on your chin," Gus teased, and left, grinning. Geneva called just before 9:00 and sounded bewildered. "Bruce walked, just as you said he would. He did wipe away a couple of tears and he did compliment me for my..." "Femininity?" "Yes, that exact word. How could you know he'd react like that?" "Oh, just masculine intuition. You ought to try it sometime." Geneva laughed, a little shyly Gus though. Very strange for a frontline police officer. "Is it true you've never met him and nor did you rehearse him what to say otherwise you'd remove his head?" Gus laughed and said that was true. He'd never met Bruce or spoken to him. "But you'd observed him. You spied on us?" Gus pulled away his phone and stared at it, a little startled before resuming the conversation. "Well, ah, what can I say without lying to you?" "It's this thing with you military guys, isn't it. Try to get into the mind of the enemy before engaging him?" "City cops aren't supposed to know such things." "Oh yeah." "Yeah." "I'm coming over to take you out to dinner." "I've had dinner and anyway you don't know where I live." "Oh yeah?" "Oh Christ, you know everything about me as well, don't you?" "Not the innermost things, the girly things. I want to find out about those things the good way, as you slowly reveal them to me." "Oh yeah." "Yeah." "You are such a tease. You were a marine. You won't be romantic." "Oh yeah? I've learned some things and you're stroppy enough to ensure I'll measure up." "So your plans for me go deeper than performing with me in bed?" "That's perceptive. I want you to resign and come to work with me. I'll attempt to buy the main security firm in this city or will set up in opposition to them. I'll direct operations and you'll direct administration but will assist me with training and supervision. But we can talk about set-up and policy job-sharing." "Me resign from my police work?" "Everyone needs a change. We can talk about finances and you'll have the opportunity to become equal partner. We can talk about that." "We certainly do have a lot to talk about. When?" Gus sighed, "We can talk about that while you watch me eat. I'm on my way." "You know my degree is in business administration don't you?" "What make you think that?" "Gus, stop being evasive. You've been through my home, haven't you?" "Well Bruce lives with his mommy so I searched your house to find out about the presents he's given you, etcetera and any letters or poems he's given you. You have a stunning panty drawer for a cop." Gus took her hand and as he expected, it wasn't pulled away. "I see us making a fine team Geneva. We have so much in common. What I'm doing is opening a portal for both of us." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah." THE END