Lucky Beyond Belief Ch 03

Thanks to my editor, Nymphwriter, and my loyal beta readers who found my errors, made corrections, comments, and suggestions to improve my story. Any errors you may find are mine alone.

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If you haven't read 'Lucky Beyond Belief' Chapters 1 and 2 yet, I suggest you return to the beginning of the series. Otherwise you'll have missed some of the best parts of the story.

As you recall from Chapter 1, Emily's family are nudists, but Mike is new to nudism. He finds it impossible to control his boner as he spends Thanksgiving weekend around four nude women. Emily learns about the sexual activities of her hippie grandparents and discovers her mother and father are half-siblings. Her parents are extremely liberal, letting her sleep with Mike whenever she chooses. Mike has a problem with premature ejaculation when he and Emily have sex, but she overlooks it.

In Chapter 2, Mike prevents Emily from being raped and attempts to bring sexual harassment of women to university officials' attention, without success. Later, he joins the Thompson family in Aspen after Christmas for a week of skiing. The first few days Mike's enjoys skiing, but he sprains an ankle, preventing him from skiing the remainder of the week. Mike's mother learns by accident that he's having sex with Emily, and John offers Mike a paid summer internship at his chemical plant. While John and Emily are skiing, Lisa seduces Mike and demonstrates doggy-style sex with him. Chapter 2 ends with Mike on his way home, dreaming of Emily and Lisa's pussies.

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After returning from Aspen, Dad and my sixteen-year-old brother, Mark, wanted to hear all about my Colorado skiing vacation. However, Mom gave me the cold shoulder for the first couple days—she seemed like a pressure cooker just about ready to explode.

When Mom and I were alone the third day after I arrived home, she let me have it with both barrels. I was berated for telling her I went skiing with 'a friend,' when actually my 'friend' was Emily. She rebuked me for having sex with Emily. Mom said there had been plenty of failures of 'the pill,' and that I shouldn't have had sex in the first place, but since I did, I should have used condoms.

"You're much like your father when he was at your age," she said. "He thought mostly with his sex organ back then."

"You're saying I think with my dick?"

"Yes—I always hoped you'd be different. I tried raising you to be a good boy." She sighed, "But I suppose it's just in your genes. I've never told you this before, but you were born with an erection."

She continued, "We aren't paying your college expenses so you can have a good time. You need to be more responsible."

"You're right, Mom. I shouldn't have done it," I responded. However, I was thinking, 'Given a chance, I'd do it all over again.'

When our conversation ended, something triggered in the back of my mind. Mom always said she was 19 when I was born, but the numbers didn't add up. Later, I asked Dad, "Was I a premature baby?"

"No," he said. "What concern do you have about that?"

"You celebrated your anniversary in December, and my birthday is in March. Based on your anniversary, Mom ought to be a year older."

Dad had a sheepish, embarrassed look, "Mike, your mother caught a lot of flak from her mother when she got pregnant, so she's pretty touchy talking about it. You see, she was about six months along when we were married."

"Thanks Dad, you just saved my life," I said.

Mom said Dad was thinking with his dick when he was my age, but apparently she didn't attempt to slow him down, because she got pregnant while they were dating just after high school.

The next day, Mom was cutting me no slack about having sex with Emily. "What if you got her pregnant? How do you think you'd support her?"

I couldn't get a word in edgewise as she kept scolding, "Mike, do you realize I'm not even 40 years old? I'm too young to be a grandmother."

"I don't think..."

Mom cut me off. "You should have saved yourself for marriage," she said in a curt, motherly tone.

"Like you did?"

She squinted her eyes, giving me a look that could have burned through solid steel, "What do you mean by that, young man?"

"I only did what you and Dad did. If my math is right, you were pregnant with me when you were and Dad were married."

Mom turned back to the sink, peeling potatoes with a fury that I'd never seen before. It shut her up, though. The remainder of the time I was home during Christmas break, she didn't mention me having sex with Emily again.

Emily and I texted one another several times. We both expressed our love for one another and said we couldn't wait to be together again.

Before I left home for second semester, I told Dad, "I already have a summer job lined up in California."

"Why not get a job here at home?" Dad asked.

"The pay is $20 an hour, with room and board included," I answered.

"Your mother is going to be upset if you're on the other side of the country," Dad said.

"She'll just have to get over it, because it won't be long until I'll graduate and have a permanent job."

"Yeah, you're right," Dad admitted.

Mom was troubled when she found out I wouldn't be home for the summer, but I explained I'd been offered not only a good job, but it fit in with my electronics interests. I didn't tell her that my job would be working for Emily's father, and that I'd be staying with the Thompson's, but I knew she'd go on another rant if she knew that.

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Back at university, things returned to normal—classes during the day, studying, working at the pizza carry-out, and spending time with Emily. Her roommate, Sharon, had finally found a boyfriend, so she wasn't in their shared dorm room as often as she had been during the first semester. That gave Emily and me a few opportunities to have quickie sex, which we did as often as we could, but not as frequently or as long as we'd have liked.

In late January, the local newspaper published an article about Jason Halbertsen's preliminary hearing for attempted rape in Florida. That caused several co-eds and a couple female graduates to come forward with stories that he'd fondled, groped, or raped them. They also said when they reported his attacks to the university police, they were pressured to change their stories by coach Joder and the university police chief. The local newspaper published a story about a possible sexual harassment cover-up on the campus.

Within a day or two of the local newspaper story, several large news organizations raced to publish the most sensational story. TV news trucks with satellite antennas showed up; TV reporters camped out on street corners, interviewing and recording anyone who had an interesting slant on the story. Investigative reporters sniffed out details, attempting to find the spiciest story.

The university president had no choice but to call for a complete investigation, if he intended to keep his job.

An investigative reporter got Emily's name somehow. She was interviewed about her experience with Jason. She mentioned that she had tutored him in chemistry and he'd asked which dorm she lived in. Emily thought he'd stalked her for awhile, because when she stepped outside her dorm for just a few seconds to drop a bag of trash in the dumpster, he dragged her behind the bushes. She told the reporter that the only reason she hadn't been raped was because I'd pulled him off her, getting beaten up in the process.

The reporter then contacted me. I told him how Jason attacked me and then how I met with Professor Bullin attempting to get the administration to protect women. I said he didn't seem interested in pursuing the end of sexual harassment on campus. I also mentioned Jason Halbertsen was Professor Bullin's stepson. That sent the reporter and camera crew scurrying to the provost's office.

I heard later through the grapevine that when the reporter and camera crew showed up at Professor Bullin's office to interview him, there was no secretary to greet them. Noises coming from inside his office caused the reporter to open Dr Bullin's unlocked office door. The camera crew apparently got some interesting video of Dr Bullin with his trousers around his ankles having sex with his secretary bent over his desk.

Whether our university president knew about the provost's indiscretion or not, I don't know. However, the next evening, he was interviewed on CNN, and questioned about what he intended to do to reduce the amount of sexual harassment on campus.

Of course he said all the shopworn phrases officials at other universities had used over the years: 'We don't condone that sort of behavior—We'll dismiss anyone who's caught—Staff or students who engage in that type of behavior will be prosecuted—We're doing a complete investigation,' and so on.

Interestingly, Professor Bullin suddenly resigned his position the next day. The news crews then focused their attention on coach Joder. He claimed he'd never asked anyone to change their statement to the university police, but there were too many women who stated otherwise.

When the university president invited the state police to join the investigation, they found a number of rape kits which had never been forwarded to the state police lab as required by state law. When the results came back from the lab, Jason Halbertsen's DNA was on three of them.

Jason was extradited from Florida to face three rape charges. The gears of justice ground slowly, and it wasn't until around the middle of second semester when he was formally charged with raping three women.

During the same period, coach Joder and the university police chief were investigated, and the two were charged with making false statements and aiding and abetting a felony. Additionally, the police chief was charged with failure to comply with state law.

The campus slowly returned to normal as the news reporters headed elsewhere for juicier stories after having a field day on our campus. After the investigation, most of the females on campus felt safer.

The semester rolled on. When I had free time, either I was searching the Internet for the best electronic valves and flow meters or having sex with Emily. By the time the semester ended, I'd gathered enough data about various products that I was sure I'd found the best. I'd averaged having sex once a week with Emily.

Emily and I finished our second semester with excellent grade point averages. Her help with chemistry got me a low 'A,' which surprised me. Now it was time to change gears and get ready for an interesting summer.

* * * Summer with the Thompson's

John sent the company jet to fly us from college to California on the Friday after our last exam. We arrived in California late in the afternoon. John picked us up at the airport and drove us back to the Thompson's home.

As Emily and I entered the house, nudist Lisa hugged me, kissed my cheek, and whispered, "Welcome back, Mike. I need a strong, young stud to help me cross the street."

Emily, following behind me, asked, "Instead of sleeping in the guest bedroom, why don't you share my bedroom?"

"Fine with me," I answered.

We removed our clothing and joined naked John and Lisa in the kitchen. They had planned a steak cookout for Emily and me as a celebration for completing our first year of college. It was a surprise as well as a superb meal. Later that evening we all skinny dipped in the pool and spent some time in the hot tub.

When it was time for bed, John and Lisa said they'd let us sleep late the next morning, since it was our first night alone together in a long time.

Emily and I shared a naughty shower—kissing, caressing, rubbing against each other, and touching each other's genitals. It was great to be naked with her again without worrying about her roommate walking in on us. In bed, I used 'Randy the vibrator' on Emily's pussy, bringing her to several pleasurable orgasms. Her moans of enjoyment, the odor of her aroused pussy, her look of contentment, then of sexual ecstasy as she climaxed, made me a happy guy, and hard as a rock.

Later we had sex. Because of final exams, it had been more than a week since we'd made love, so I didn't last very long. When I unloaded, I filled Emily's pussy to overflowing. The last couple strokes sounded like I was pulling a boot out of the mud. Emily hastily grabbed a tissue and thrust it between her legs, heading for the bidet. I followed her into the bathroom, because I was dripping cum, too.

"You completely filled me up," she said, laughing. "Maybe if we keep your balls emptied, you'll last a lot longer.

"I've done some research on the Internet about premature ejaculation. It seems that when a male's prostate is full of seminal fluid, he has difficulty holding back, so we're going to keep yours empty, okay?"

"It might work," I answered, thinking about how she planned to keep them empty. "I'm willing to be your guinea pig."

We went back to bed and had sex again. This time I lasted a lot longer, and I brought Emily to an orgasm. After we'd finished and cleaned up, we climbed into bed, sated from our sex. We both said, "I love you," and fell asleep in each other's arms.

Emily awoke before I did, and when she noticed my morning wood, she mounted me, waking me up. She rocked her pelvis, riding me hard until we both climaxed.

"I enjoy it when you do that," I said.

"If that's what it takes to keep 'One Eye' happy and your prostate empty, I'm your humble servant," she replied.

I looked at the clock and it was 10:30 AM. Emily and I showered together, dried off, and walked into the kitchen. We sat down on our towels at the kitchen table, famished.

John was already there, working on his laptop, drinking a cup coffee. Lisa was at the range, making brunch.

Lisa turned around and shook her finger at us. "It's about time you two got out of bed," she said with a faux-scold. "We heard you playing 'hide the sausage' and that gave me an idea for brunch. We're having sausage-in-a-blanket."

"Eww..." Emily said. "Mom, that was naughty. I think I'll just have milk and cereal."

"I enjoyed hearing you two making each other happy," Lisa said, smiling.

Emily blushed, "I didn't think we were that loud."

"Believe me," Lisa replied. "We could have heard your moans from outside the house."

"Maybe if Mike stuffed a sock in your mouth, you'd be quieter," John added, grinning.

Emily put her elbows on the table and hid her face behind her hands. "Oh god, I'm so embarrassed."

Lisa commented, "Emily, you shouldn't. Be passionate about any activity you're engaged in. If it's sex with Mike, delight in it, and don't worry about making a little noise when you orgasm. You're a woman now and an orgasm is the most wonderful feeling you'll ever have. Don't hold it in."

"Mike, aren't you going to say anything?" Emily asked.

"Probably not what you expect. I like it when you let me know when you've reached your peak," I responded. "If you make a little noise, it doesn't bother me."

"Yes, but I don't want to wake up the entire house."

Lisa came to the table with eight crescent rolls wrapped around some Italian sausages. The rounded ends of the sausages sticking out of the rolls really did look like dark penises.

After we'd finished brunch, I asked John, "Isn't keeping a company jet expensive?"

He answered, "Actually, it's a money maker for me. You see, it's owned by a separate corporation that I set up."

John went on to tell me that he used the jet only about once a month on average. The remainder of the time, it was chartered by executives of other companies who didn't want to travel through commercial airports, or they wanted to land at airports not served by commercial airlines. It was frequently chartered by well-to-do people flying to Las Vegas or Reno. Sometimes, celebrities who didn't want to be mobbed in commercial airports chartered his plane. In the winter, it flew people to ski resorts in the western US.

With four pilots, who rotated their schedules, the jet was in the air mainly during the day, and several aircraft mechanics serviced the plane at night.

John added, "Yes, it's been a money maker for me, and being the CEO, I'm first in line to determine which days of the month I use it. In fact, it's been so profitable that I'm thinking of purchasing a second plane."

John definitely was an entrepreneur, looking for opportunities to make money wherever he could. No wonder he and Lisa could afford to live in such a luxurious home.

Early in the afternoon, Emily and I talked about what we'd wear for our summer jobs. Since we didn't bring many clothes with us, Emily suggested we go to town and shop for work clothing. She borrowed the Miata and we headed to town.

"What kind of clothes should I buy?" I asked.

"Most everyone wears casual work clothes," she said. "A couple pair of new jeans and several polo shirts would work."

We came home with a work wardrobe, ready to go to work.

The first day at work, Emily and I rode with John to the plant. He introduced me to the thirty or so employees there—they already knew Emily. John told everyone that he was training Emily to learn his job and I was there to help him begin automating the plant.

John's office was on the second floor, with a window overlooking the plant floor. Emily was given an office next to his. There wasn't another empty office on the second floor for me, so they gave me a small office on the first floor, next to the lab.

Since I was an hourly employee, I had to punch in and out on the time clock. Emily was considered a salaried employee, so she didn't have to punch in or out like me.

At lunch time, several of the older men at the plant asked if I'd like to join them for lunch. They took me to Wendy's for a burger and paid for my lunch. They said it was a tradition to take the new guy out to lunch on his first day of work.

They also said I needed a nickname. Someone suggested they call me 'the kid with two first names.' That's what they called me the remainder of the summer. A couple of them quizzed me on the purpose of my job. I told them that John had hired me to replace the manual system with a new system using electronic valves, flow meters, and computers to monitor and control them.

Soon, word circulated around the plant that when the plant was automated, a number of people would be out of a job. For the next few days, many employees were stand-offish. When I mentioned it to John, he said, "Neither they nor you know what my plans are."

Back at the plant, John passed word to everyone that we were shutting down early at 4:00 PM on Friday for an impromptu company picnic. He ordered pizzas, chips, soft drinks, and a mini-keg of beer. Promptly at four on Friday, a catering van arrived, and we all went behind the plant to picnic tables under the shade of several large trees.

When everyone was assembled, John made a speech stating the reason he planned on automating the plant was to improve profitability. Everyone would still have a job, he said, even if automation took place. He added that he planned on removing one wall of the current building, then expanding it to twice its size. He said instead of laying anyone off, it was likely he'd need to hire more employees. That curbed the concerns of many employees who felt their jobs were going to be pulled out from under them.

Back at the Thompson's home, John told Emily, Lisa, and me his business had been so successful, that he'd made an offer for a competitor's plant in Houston, Texas, and it was under consideration. He said his company had been getting many orders from Europe, Brazil, and South Africa. Houston was an ideal location to ship products from. So, besides the California and Atlanta plants, there would be a Houston plant, if he could purchase it.

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