Like Pieces of a Jigsaw Puzzle – Chapter 8

Erotic stories: Like Pieces of a Jigsaw Puzzle – Chapter 8

Author: senorlongo

Henry was hired in nearby Garden City; we took an apartment in Manhasset, right next door to Great Neck. First year attorneys work long hours, even when the boss’s daughter—hell, especially when the boss’s daughter–seventy to eighty hours a week and sometimes more. Luckily, I knew that Henry would be busy at home between his lesson planning, grading, and cleaning.

We scheduled dinner for 9:00, going to bed as soon as he had cleaned up. We showered together as always and made love virtually every night—I needed Henry’s soft touch and strong tongue to cope with my stress. I thought things were going well for both of us right up until my first holiday party at Rizzo, Rizzo and Samuels. Sometimes I just hate attorneys.

We sat with a number of first year lawyers, away from my parents, on purpose. There are more than one hundred attorneys in the firm and I wanted to get to know as many as possible. That wouldn’t happen if we were sitting with my parents and grandparents. I had instructed Henry to introduce us as, “I’m Henry Fuller and this is my wife, Nancy.”

We had just been seated when I asked Henry to get us some drinks. He was at the bar when he was cornered by three associates I knew by reputation were probably the biggest assholes in the firm. One of them seemed intent on giving Henry a hard time. He was taller and I guessed about thirty pounds heavier with thick brown hair. Most importantly, he was full of himself and—yes I know what you’re thinking—full of shit, as well.

“Hey, man—you look familiar.”

“Well…I did work here a few summers ago in the mail room.”

“That couldn’t be it. I never go to the fucking mail room. That place is for losers. What are you doing now?”

“I’m a teacher in Garden City.”

“Oh, yeah? What do you teach?”

“Third grade.”

“You teach fucking elementary school? Man…you really are a loser.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” I said from behind the group. “I married him.”

He gave me the once over, his eyes undressing me in the crudest possible fashion. “So, that must mean that you work here.”

“Yes indeed,” I said, playing the game. “I’m Nancy, a first-year.”

“Well, first-year Nancy, I’m Mike Forester and in another six months I’ll make partner. When I do I’ll be looking you up.”

“Why, pray tell, would you want to do that?”

“So I can give you a much better fucking than you can get from loser-boy here. I’m gonna hang the biggest set of horns on him and once I do you’ll never want him again. I’ll stretch your sweet pussy so much you’ll never even feel his pencil dick. That’s why.”

“I should mention that my dad thinks the world of him and so do I.”

“Why should I give a shit what your old man thinks?” Then, grabbing his crotch obscenely, he continued. “Honey, what I have here could never even fit in loser-boy’s pants. I need to have my suits custom made just to accommodate my package.”

“I’m sure I’m suitably impressed. Please excuse us. We need to pay our respects to our hosts.”

“Go ahead, but don’t forget my name—Forester as in Fuck and that’s what I going to do to you. Think June—that’s when I’ll make partner.”

“I doubt I could ever forget you, Mr. Forester. C’mon Henry.” I extended my hand to his and led him away. “God, sometimes I hate attorneys. Luckily they’re not all assholes. Let’s go say hello to my folks.” We did and—surprise!—the next morning Mike Forester was summoned to Daddy’s office to discuss his becoming a partner. Five minutes later he was escorted from the office by two huge security guards.

I walked up to him, a smirk on my face. “Instead of bragging about the size of your package you might have asked who my father was. I’m Nancy Rizzo. Enjoy the rest of your miserable life.” His personal property had already been collected in a brown cardboard box. I’ve heard they’re looking for attorneys in Argentina. That might be far enough away for him to escape my father’s and grandfather’s influence.

Surprise again! I did make partner after four years and when I did I decided we needed a house for our family. We went to dinner on a Friday night. Henry ordered a Foster’s; I ordered an iced tea. “No margarita for you tonight, Nancy?”

“No, Henry—you’re not supposed to drink when you’re pregnant.” Henry’s jaw dropped so I leaned across the table to lock his lips to mine. “Congrats, Dad; I’m only off the pill ten weeks and I’m already knocked up. That must be some potent juice you’re squirting into me every night.” I pulled the home pregnancy tests from my purse. I had three and they all said “YES.”

“I want to explain what’s going to happen. I hate the thought of our children growing up with a nanny or in day care. They will need a parent to help and cherish them.”

“Yes, I’ll have to quit my job.” I gave him time to continue. “It makes sense. You make much more than I do and I already do all the chores and cooking. Plus, I have the experience of working with kids.”

“You’re right, my darling. I know how much you love children. If it’s a girl I’m going to name her Henrietta.”

Henry sat up straight and tall. “Over my dead body!”

I couldn’t suppress my smile. “Not even born and you’re already the mother hen. Damn, I love you so much.”

“I knew you were only teasing.”

“You’re forgiven for your outburst. Say, don’t we know that waiter?” We did. It was Mike Forester—hot shit lawyer. I thought things might get really interesting when he came for our order, but he didn’t seem to remember us so we played dumb. However, we laughed like hell once we were in the car.

“I guess he never made it to Argentina.”

“Huh?”

“That’s how far I figured he’d have to go to escape Daddy and Grandpa. You saw how pissed they were when they heard about him. I didn’t tell you that he was fired the next day on a sexual harassment charge. Any attorney—even Clarence Darrow—would find it impossible to overcome that. Grandpa and Daddy know almost everybody in the legal field. Any prospective employer would call personally and he’d never be able to get a reference. That’s how you wind up in a waiter’s job. You know something?”

“What?”

“I never noticed a bulge in his pants.”

“I can’t believe you’d even look.”

“Well, I don’t want you to think I’m not impressed with yours, but after all that bragging he did I will admit to being a little curious. C’mon…let’s go home. Just thinking about your package is making me horny, besides we have something to celebrate, don’t we?” We did have a good reason and we did celebrate all night. Then we slept and celebrated again.

I made an appointment with my OB/GYN for late afternoon so I could get at least a half day’s work in and so Henry could join me. We met at home, our recently purchased four bedroom ranch with an expandable attic in Garden City. Like many in the city our house was older, built in 1977, but with several renovations including a new roof and replacement windows.

There were solar panels on the south-facing rear roof which provided plenty of hot water, both for drinking and heat. It was a great starter house for us and one we could easily afford. By now Henry was earning almost $80,000 a year while my earnings were roughly five times that with almost unlimited potential.

Housing in Nassau County is expensive and the property taxes can be murder, but we have the finest services and the best schools imaginable. Almost 1.4 million people live in the county and traffic into Manhattan is a bitch. That was why I always took the train. Henry’s school was within walking distance from our house so I always took the car to the station. On the day of my appointment we reversed and Henry picked me up at 3:42 for my 4:00 appointment. It was only a ten-minute ride.

We sat in the office for close to forever. Apparently, the doctor had a delivery that morning and everything was backed up about two hours. Luckily, we didn’t have to actually see the doctor. A nurse took a blood sample and I peed on a few more test strips. Three days later our hopes were confirmed. We made arrangements to visit my parents the following Saturday.

Daddy always greeted me the same way—“How’s everything on the civil side?” Daddy was a criminal defense attorney. I hated the idea of dealing with smarmy criminals every day so I took up civil law, what’s commonly known as a plaintiff’s attorney, meaning that I sued the shit out of people. Sometimes the work was trivial, but occasionally I was able to do some real good representing people who had been screwed over or even killed because of corporate greed or stupidity.

We had just sat down to dinner after meeting Lisa’s fiancé, Tom. He was a resident in thoracic surgery at New York Presbyterian Hospital where she was an occupational therapist. Unfortunately, Mom still wasn’t as good a cook as Henry. The roast was a trifle overdone and the baked potatoes underdone. The vegetables were from a frozen package. Henry never made frozen vegetables. I was accustomed to better, but then Henry was the best, not only in the kitchen, but in other rooms, as well. We’d made love in every room in the house and even in the basement, my butt sliding back and forth on the dryer.

Daddy spoke first once the food was served. “How’s your class this year, Henry?”

“It’s great, Dad, but, it’s going to be my last.”

“You’re not going to be fired, are you?” Henry’s remark was met by shocked looks on my parent’s faces. They knew too well what a great teacher he was.

“No…they love me there. I’m going to quit over the summer. We’ll need someone to take care of our baby.” That was as far as he got. My parents and Lisa were out of their seats in a flash with hugs and kisses and exclamations of sheer joy. Mom left the table to phone my grandparents; they came just as dinner had ended. Henry and I had to endure the celebration again. Grandpa hugged Henry so tightly that he was lifted off the floor.

We had chatted for more than an hour when I saw Henry and Tom walk out to the patio. “Can I ask you a question, Henry?”

“Sure.”

“Um…Lisa tells me that you’re subordinate to Nancy. Is that true?”

“Subordinate? No, that’s not true. Back during our freshman year at Penn State Nancy gave me a choice—end the relationship or become her slave. That’s what I chose. I gave her total control over me and I’ve never regretted it; well, maybe once or twice. You probably think I’m some kind of wimp.”