Time passed quickly and the kids grew like weeds. Our development continued to grow. We liquidated all of the real estate holdings except Islands Estates and Palm Coast.
Marie stayed on at Islands Estates and started to teach Caroline to read and write. She applied for permission to school the children at home and soon Caroline was writing her own name and reading simple words. We were so proud of her. Marie agreed to continue schooling the children until they were ready for high school.
We built Gerald and Susan a beautiful home on the southwest corner of the estate. There were now four houses, the boathouse with apartment above, mower shed with apartment above, the stable and barn within the two square miles inside the stone fence.
Helen and Camille had taken complete control of the development, leaving me free to pursue whatever fantasies entered my head.
It was in the summer of 1972 that Louise was diagnosed with stomach cancer and in December, she passed away. We were in a state of mourning for a long time. It seemed like part of me died with her. I missed her.
In the spring of 1973, Lisa Holiday and I flew south to see dad and Jan. When I saw him, for the first time in a year, I almost collapsed. He was over eighty now and in failing health. Janice was totally at a loss to help him. His prostate was shot and all he wanted to do was sit and stare out at the ocean. He begged me to take him out on his boat one last time before he died and that nearly killed me.
We loaded a weeks worth of food and some beer and booze on the boat and when he told Janice and Lisa to stay behind I had a real bad feeling. We cruised south along the keys, curving west around Key West, and out to the Dry Tortugas. Dad stayed sick most of the time but refused to allow me to turn back until we saw the old fort at Fort Jefferson.
We anchored out, just on the west side of the island and took some tape with the video camera. Dad was camera shy but I kept aiming the camera at him and had lots of tape. On Sunday, five days after we had sailed, we were in need of provisions so I motored back into Key West. Dad was very ill at this point and I didn't want to take him back out on the boat. But he could be the most butt-headed person in the world sometimes and after a lengthily argument, I condescended to sail again, but we were headed for Biscayne Bay, with no diversions. He died on board at eight thirty that evening, drunk as a shithouse rat after drinking a pint of Jagermeister. If he hadn't died on me, I think I might have killed him myself.
I radioed the Coast Guard and they sent a cutter to intercept us. Dad was pronounced dead at the scene and we were sent on to Biscayne Bay after the authorities had been notified. I talked to Lisa by radiophone and had her call Dianne and Camille. I was getting pretty tired of my people dropping dead around me, even if they were old.
Jan and Lisa met us at the marina, along with the Dade county medical examiner and the cops. Dad was transferred to the morgue. Lisa informed me that she was on her way to New York to fetch Dianne and bring her back to Islands Estates.
I stayed on in Miami to make the arrangements to have the old man sent up to the mortuary in Flagler Beach. Arriving back at dad's house, Janice was terribly sad and I didn't know what to do to comfort her. We ate a great Spanish dinner she had prepared and afterwards as we sat out on the balcony, she wept. I held her in my arms for a long time after the moon made it's way up out of the water and suspended itself over our heads in the sky.
"Papita," she said, "the old bull is dead. I will miss the old bastard. He was good to me and his memory will always be strong."
"All of us will miss him," I said. "He was one of a kind."
"Oh, no," she quipped, "you are just like him in many respects. Only lazy!"
"Thanks," I whined. "But I'm not lazy. I simply delegate the work to others."
"Shit!" she whispered.
"What are you going to do, now?" I asked.
"I don't know," she answered. "This house is so big. I really don't want to be alone."
"Then you'll come back to Islands Estates," I said. "And live with us."
She hugged me tightly and said nothing. It was late and we were tired so we went to bed.
I heard her footsteps as she entered my room. She couldn't sleep either. She crawled into bed with me trying not to wake me. I gathered her close to me and our lips came together. I was hard as marble and she just rolled on top of me and pushed her wet sheath down over me. We rocked gently for a long time until we exploded together. Neither of us spoke a single word. We just used each other to make it better. Then we slept.
The morning sun invaded our world as it seeped over the eastern edge of the Atlantic. It's piercing rays snuck in around the heavy draperies and made vertical lines on the wall next to the bed. I had an enormous hard on which required a trip to the potty but as I tried to rise from the bed, a Spanish hand wrapped itself around my throbbing dick and Jan's voice broke the silence.
"This one's mine," she said softly.
"Not until I piss," I complained.
"Do you remember what I told you so many years ago, Little Bull?" she asked.
My brain was floating so I couldn't remember what she was referring to. "No, what?" I asked.
"I told you I would always be your piss whore," she whispered. "The Old Bull took care of that for me for many years. Lately he has had no desire. But now, Papita, I need for you to make me know I'm yours," she said, still holding my cock firmly clenched in her hand.
She pulled me to the side of the bed and she moved off the bed onto the floor. I followed her. She knelt on the tile next to the bed and I stood over her. Her hand still held me. I relaxed and released a thin trickle of warm urine. Janice directed the stream onto her soft titties and moved my cock back and forth across her rock hard nipples. My flow increased into a torrent of yellow liquid, which she directed over her face and hair until she was drenched. My prick stayed hard as steel after I had finished pissing. Jan's lips covered me and she sucked me deep into her hungry mouth. She twisted her face on me sending vibrations all the way to my toes.
As I reached my release, she pulled me out of her mouth and jerked me with her hand. I sent a wash of thick milky cum splattering on her piss soaked face and tits. Jan looked up at me smiling. She was covered with my discharges from the top of her head to her knees and toes where she knelt in a pool of piss on the tile.
"Now," she said, brightly, "a shower and some food to make you strong."
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We closed the house and made arrangements for a caretaker. We loaded Janice's clothes and as much of her personal stuff as we could carry on the boat and after topping off the tanks, made way for Islands Estates up the outside where we could cruise on plane.
At just before seven in the morning, we cruised out of Biscayne Bay and turned north. The twin four hundred horsepower Perkins diesels would push the fifty-two foot boat along at about thirty-two knots, or just over twenty-five miles per hour. The tanks had a four hundred mile range at that speed so we had fuel enough to make it home in about ten hours, weather permitting. The sky's were clear, the seas at about two and a half feet. I plotted our course on the Loran and throttled the big cruiser up, and out of the water. The big engines gave off a deep snarl as they pushed the hull up onto the surface and smoothed into a steady drone as the resistance of the boat diminished with speed. I notified the Coast Guard of our presence on the coast and switched the autopilot over to the Loran.
This boat had a fly bridge, which is a covered area on top of the main cabin, from which the captain of the vessel could control the boat. It contained a duplicate set on instruments and controls the same as in the pilothouse. Primarily used when fishing, the fly bridge was a great place to sit when you are cruising just off shore, so you can see farther. I climbed the ladder up top and armed with a pair of binoculars, I spent the next two hours scanning the beach and looking at other boats as we made our way north.
Jan came out on deck in a very brief bikini and joined me on the bridge. I marveled again at the brilliance of the colors of her dragon tattoo. At sixty-four years old, her body was still tight. And her pussy was as good as any you'd ever want. Besides, I was a sucker for older women.
About six hours into our journey, we were cruising straight out from Merritt Island when a Coast Guard cutter swiftly approached and hailed us to come along side. We were informed that a rocket was scheduled to launch from Cape Kennedy in a few minutes and all watercraft were instructed to sail outside a twenty-five mile radius until after the launch. We floated around for about a half hour and finally, the thunderous roar of the rocket came across the water and we watched in awe as the Big Saturn V sailed into the heavens over our heads.
That out of the way, we throttled back up and continued on our way. Jan removed her top and went without for much of the afternoon. She brought sandwiches and iced tea to me and sat for a long time with the field glasses scanning the shore. Boredom over took me and I reached out and squeezed her plump nipple. This of course gave her a reason to attack me and before you knew it, her bikini bottom was on the deck, she was bent over the console and I was slamming my cock in her wet cunt from behind. I filled her to capacity and we laughed at the spontaneity of what we had just done. It was good for us both because it reminded us of the old man.
I made the turn into Ponce Inlet at three-thirty and we made our way up the Intra-Coastal Waterway to Islands Estates, arriving just after five-fifteen. All hands in residence ran down to the dock to welcome us home and there was much crying and wringing of hands over the passing of dad. Camille was devastated and Rita looked as though she had been crying for days.
We had a small service and dad was laid to rest in the family plot on the estate where Grandma Nel, Grandpa Ben, Grace and Louise had been buried. I had a great granite headstone made and placed at their heads and we all pined for the old days when we had them around.
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But alas, time marches on. I spent a lot of time on the river in the smaller boat, often taking Billy and Bobby with me. Billy became a great explorer and we would walk on the beaches along both sides of the river looking for shells and other ancient things of interest. We bought us a metal detector and discovered a multitude of interesting junk after that. One particular item of interest was an ancient Spanish soldiers helmet, made of bronze. We also found some parts of old firearms and a dagger that had been carried by a pirate, as Billy decided. I was proud of the kid. He had become a regular student of the river. At seven he knew as much about the river and the water as I did when I was twenty.
Marie was doing a wonderful job of educating the children. Caroline was testing at two grade levels higher than her age group in public school and Billy was off the scale. Bobby was just getting started but at five she could write lots of words and read all the little books Marie gave her. She also had my number and we explored all over the big estate. All the kids could swim by age four and Rita spent a good deal of time with them in the pool. All three would become expert horsemen.
One day when Billy and I were tramping in the scrub across the river from the house and to the south, we came upon the ruins of an old building several yards back up off the water. We plundered around for a couple of weeks, uncovering the old stone foundation of a fairly large structure. It appeared to have been a large frame building on a coquina foundation. It measured some thirty by fifty feet. Remains of rough cut wooden beams were strewn along side the foundation and we found some rusted iron hinges and a huge door pull. Billy would sit in one place for hours sifting through the sand to find small shards of broken pottery and other bits of history.
Lisa's father had been a history buff and she put us in contact with a man in St. Augustine who came to our site and spent over a week with us trying to reconstruct an image of what the old ruins were. We never came to a final conclusion, but we figured it must have been a fisherman's house from back in the seventeen hundreds due to the age and style of the metal hardware present on the site. Beings it wasn't our property, we notified the state historical folks in Tallahassee, and they sent an archeological team out to investigate the find. Billy even got his picture in the paper but because the state got involved, they wouldn't let us go there any more. Billy has a low opinion of the state historical people. I tried to buy the land but I was rebuffed. So much for being a nice guy.
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In the fall of 1977, Caroline entered public school, at the age of 13 1/2, as a high school freshman. Age wise, she was more than a year younger than most of the others in her class. Scholastically, she was two or three years ahead of the rest. She grew bored with the classes quickly and we spoke with the school councilor about putting her in advanced classes. She was accelerated into higher math and science classes and settled in much better. History, grammar and language classes were more interesting so she stayed with the rest of the class.
