I had instantly become covered in sweat. My heart was pounding out of my chest. I could only turn and see my dad at the kitchen table twirling a pair of white lacy panties around his finger in a very playful way as he had a huge smile on his face.
My dad Morrison was very pleased with himself. He talked about being surprised by the "oil bandits" phone call. They told him how the K-5 was ready, and they had a surprise. Morrison stated he never would have believed he would be told they found a set of women's panties hanging from the rearview mirror of his 18-year-olds truck.
I stuttered. My mouth was dry. My brain was working a million miles a second, but I had no believable excuse.
Morrison flung the panties at me while laughing "about time." Okay. Now I was confused.
I asked 'What?'
Morrison was no longer leaning on the kitchen island and stated "it's about time. Who's the girl? How long have you guys been having fun. Or can I not ask?" Morrison talked about me being blind to girls for far too long, how I had grown up fast but remained oblivious to girls and their advances.
I told my dad that my eyes had opened '2 days ago' and things had been progressing very fast. I told him I was happy to tell him all my adventures but 'I will not kiss and tell' too much detail". And, that he would likely not be happy with who owned those panties. I showed him the second pair of red lacy panties from my pocket.
Morrison replied "okay okay. Not too much detail. I won't be happy, eh? Who is it?"
I replied "Amy Comer."
If my dad was upset, he did not show it. I knew there was tension between our family and theirs. How much tension I did not know.
Morrison replied "Oh yeah? Is she tall and beautiful like her mom was? Because her two sisters are good looking but a touch above average."
Julie and Di were twins. They were 19 years old and worked in the city. Julie worked at a bank and Di worked at the School Administration building in the center of the city. Both jobs paid well but they still lived at home with Amy and their father Dave Comer. Both were good looking enough and were athletic with brown hair. They looked very similar to Amy but lacked the glowing beauty that emanated.
As we talked about Amy and her family, I never got any impression my father disliked them. So, I asked 'What's the deal with the Comers and us? Do we not like them? Are they not good people? What is it?'
Morrison had no real emotion on his face. He stated "No. We don't hate them. Dave is a big proud man. We have a very large and profitable farm. His is smaller and scrapes by. I have told him several times I am willing to help him out with seed, fertilizer, veterinary care, machinery, and labor since we buy so much of everything, I get huge discounts. Which I would share with him to save money."
"But he is too stubborn and is unwilling to allow anyone to help him or give him advice. He is a 4th generation farmer like us. He has good land, but he needs to use it the right way."
Morrison's last comment was "He also doesn't have a genius son like me."
Morrison turned and walked outside towards the barn/office. I followed him talking about the improvements Dave could make to his farm to better improve growth and efficiency. My father had lots to talk about when it came to farming, animals, and land management. As we stepped inside the door to the office, I saw Tami assembling some small shelves.
Tami looked up and stated, "Hey Big Shot!"
Morrison and I just looked at one another. This was a new nickname, and we were unsure who it belonged to. Tami laughed and stated "You Mark. Your new nickname is Big Shot. And you know why!"
Morrison looked at me with a mix of pride, surprise, and jealousy. Tami had worked here for many years, and she was very popular and friendly. She had always been the friendliest to me and I had until now never noticed any of it.
I swelled with such pride that my face had become red. Anita walked over and slugged me in the gut. Anita was a cowgirl. She rode horses, did farm work as well as the guys, and had the most amazing bubble butt that even Jennifer Lopez would be jealous of. Anita always wore tight jeans and tank tops. If she was outside in freezing weather, she would cover them up with sweatshirts and coats, but she always wore a tight tank top underneath. In the summertime she would ride along on a horse, truck, or ATV and her tits would bounce away. She had nice D-cup tits, and they would bounce to a rhythm that would make every man and women take notice. Did Anita notice? Not sure how she couldn't.
Anita loudly stated "I heard about the quarry. Nice one. Fill her up good did ya?"
I was still reeling from the punch to the gut, and I had not yet told my dad about getting a blowjob from Tami. I looked at my dad. He was smiling as wide as I was. Morrison stated "I knew about the quarry. Nothing happens on my farm that I don't know about."
Now I recalled the sly smile and knowing look over the newspaper this morning. He must have known Tami's running/swimming schedule and surmised she would "break me in."
Tami loudly talked about never experiencing a shot to the mouth in her life like the one I gave her. She never believed one "as big existed." And talked about "picking cum boogers" from her nose for a week. Okay. I'm all and good for crude guy talk but this was a bit much. Anita was laughing as my dad, and I walked to his office.
If you knew my dad was the owner of a multimillion-dollar farm you would not see it in his truck, his house, or his office. None of them looked like they belonged to someone so wealthy. His office was the smallest office. It had one window that opened into the main hallway, it was dirty, had an old computer, and the walls were covered with bookshelves overflowing with loose paper, framed pictures, notebooks, and charts.
The worst part was he still had a rolodex on his desk to keep phone numbers.
His phone rang and he picked up the receiver. I laughed out loud because the handheld receiver was not a normal one. He had built a headband out of a wire clothes hanger, foam insulation, and duct tape. It held the listening end of the receiver to his ear without the need of using your hands. He looked ridiculous. The conversation was short. Morrison stated "Why buy something you can make" as he motioned towards the custom headband.
I asked dad what he meant by me being a "genius."
I learned from Morrison when I was 8 years old the Mason family's farm went out of business. Our farm was barely making money, but I had talked about the water from the Quarry being useful. I drew lots of pictures to show how we could use the warm water to run pipes under our fields to keep them warm during the coldest seasons, we could use the water to keep the cow sheds, garages, and other places heated. And we could use the water to irrigate our fields.
The Mason's never figured out how to use the mineralized water correctly. Turns out. Slow the water down. Place it in large tanks, let the minerals sink to the bottom, and the water will become useful.
My father for some reason believed me, built huge water tanks, and tried out some of what I had drawn. The water went in with some minerals but came out clean and useful for agriculture. The minerals crystalized at the bottom. My father bought Mason's whole farm for a good price. No one was buying farms at that time so there was literally no interest in it.
The Mason's previously had several good years in a row and had lots of extra money. They used the money to build the biggest, most lavish, and "most ridiculous house" anyone had ever seen. The next year they went bankrupt. After only two years of installing underground pipes to keep the fields warm and then also running underground water lines to water the crops yields of 3-4 times normal hit every field.
I told dad 'You are welcome." As I don't remember any of this being my idea. I only remember us buying a large underground boring machine that dug trenches, laid pipe, and covered it all again with dirt in one motion. I also remember carting huge wheels of pipe across fields in the snow, rain, and hail so the employees could install them.
My dad laughed and stated "that's right. We owe you big time. Without the new warmth and water, we could not have afforded to buy the other farms. We went from one farm to a total of 6 in three years. Your grandfather would always complain about our 20,000 acres being a handful. Imagine working 125,000." As he laughed heartily.
Since we were talking about wealth and money I decided to ask for some cash. I told my dad it was time I had a bank account and debit card of my own. Morrison continued his laugh, reached into his desk, and pulled out a folder. Inside was a debit card and credit card with my name on them. The credit card was black and sleek. The debit card was gold with red lettering.
Morrison stated he had placed 25% of the net profits for the farming business in a bank account he had set up for me since I was 8. I had made the farm more money than he ever could, so he felt it was necessary to save it for me. He described how hard work was important, but brains and ingenuity would ultimately change everything.
Morrison stated, "And it's only fair you get 25% of the net from the other businesses too."
My response was 'other businesses?'
Morrison shook his head while describing how he bought the tractor dealership, car dealership, grocery store, and dozens of other businesses in town with the proceeds of the farm.
Okay. The full ignorance of my situation was now in showing. I asked, 'We own the tractor store and the car lot?'
My dad continued to explain "Yes. Didn't you ever wonder why they are called Brooks tractor or Brooks Ford? You are named Mark Brooks after all."
My only answer was 'Nope. Never gave it a second thought.'
