Gold Digger Wife Wants It All

This is a fictional story with no resemblance to anyone living or dead. All characters are over 18 years of age. You must be 18 years old to read this.

Thanks to Cuthbert Le Tonstain for his editing to make this a more enjoyable story.

My plan, after exiting the Army, was to open a computer and security equipment store in the Chicago suburbs. The first order of business was to find a good location. I tried to locate a residential area that was between two Best Buy stores and had a nice strip mall.

The second day of my search I found such a spot. As I was driving around the strip center's parking lot, I saw a "For Lease" sign on the corner of a nice building. I parked and was trying to look into the dark empty store when the door opened up and scared me. I dropped back into a defensive position then laughed as two attractive women walked out, laughing at me. "Sorry to scare you big guy. We did not expect a Peeping Tom in the middle of the day."

"Sorry ladies, it was a reaction that kept me alive the last couple of years. If I'd had my M4 rifle you would have several holes punched through you. I would hate to hurt two such pretty ladies."

"You can't be a member of the Chicago SWAT team; you get scared too easily." the taller woman grinned.

"Why were you looking in that window? Are you looking to lease some space?" Asked the shorter of the two ladies.

"Yes I am. Is this for lease?"

"My name is Carol Hughs and I am the leasing agent for Midwest Shopping Malls. This is Susan Parker, our banker." At that point the taller pretty lady held out a tanned and muscular arm and firmly shook my hand. A hand I had a hard time letting go of because I felt a jolt of sexuality emanating from her.

"How do you do? I'm Robert Rogler, but please call me Bob. If you need to have the banker around while checking out the vacant space, I think it is beyond my budget to ask about the lease."

Susan said "it's not that at all. I am confirming the rent rolls to update the loan files. When the property reaches a high enough occupancy, we lower the interest rate on the loan."

"Then it is a perfect time to negotiate a lease. How much is this lease per month?"

Carol said "It's $1,200 per month plus you pay electricity."

I turned to Susan and said "How long a lease is needed to allow Carol to get her interest rate dropped?"

She looked quizzically at me and said "We count only the leases that are 6 months or longer."

"OK Carol, I will pay you $1,000 per month for this space for 1 year all in advance. Can you make that happen?"

It did not take long for Carol to do the math and accept my offer. As she accepted, she turned to Susan and said "This guy is a wheeler dealer. He might make a good bank customer for you."

"Yes, he might be the right kind of customer. Here's my card." As she eyed me from shoe tops to haircut and back down again.

Carol said, "I'll go back to the office and get the paperwork completed but I have to take Susan back to the bank first."

"For the sake of efficiency, I can take Susan back to the bank and give her a chance to convince me to move my accounts to her bank." I hoped my smile was not too much of a smirk.

Carol agreed so Susan and I started walking toward the parking lot. I pointed at my brand-new Corvette and said "Here it is, hop in."

"Wow this is a nice car! I've always liked Corvettes but never driven one."

Since it was lunch time I asked "Do you have time for lunch with me."

A smile and a "Yes" was her response.

"Since I don't know the area why don't you drive us to a nice place." Then I tossed the keys to her and went to the passenger side.

Startled, she didn't quite know what to do. "I really don't know how to drive this. Are you sure you want me to drive your new car?"

"Hop in and I'll teach you to drive."

Her skirt rode up on her legs as she slid into the low slung seat. She was focusing on the gauges rather than modesty. I asked "Have you ever driven a manual transmission car before?"

"No but I watched my grandfather drive his work truck so I have an idea how to do it."

Without turning on the engine I had her go through the first three speeds. As she got proficient with the gearing I said "You grip that shifter with authority and purpose. I like the way you slide it from gear to gear." She did not respond to my comment but I did see the sly smile she made toward me.

It did not take very long for her to get the basics. What it did do was give me some time to look over her basics. Breasts, hair, legs and face all met my standards.

We did not talk as she drove so she could concentrate on shifting the gears without me making a terrible face to the grinding sounds.

When we arrived at a very nice Italian restaurant she asked, "What were you doing the last two years that startled you so much seeing two women come out of a vacant store.?"

"I have spent the last two years in the Middle East as a US Army Infantryman. There, when an unknown door swings open on you, you had better be ready to shoot or die. Since the Army took away my rifle, I was going to throw my ink pen at you." I said with a big smile to match the huge laugh from Susan.

"Why did you want to join the Army and go to that dangerous area in the first place?"

"OK a little background about me, I am the son of a US Army colonel and an Iranian nurse. They met while my father was in the U S Army Signal Corps operating the "Ears on Ivan" radio intercept of Moscow phone calls from inside Iran prior to the Shah of Iran's overthrow. They married, I was produced, then lived the first 18 years of my life as an "Army Brat".

"My four years in college resulted in a dual degree in Arabic languages and computer science. They don't go together but they are the two things that interest me. With a sense of patriotism and wanderlust I joined the Army and became an infantryman. Since I have these special language skills, I was sent to the where the action is to be an interpreter with the troops."

"Was it as exciting as you thought it would be? Were you ever shot?"

"It was more exciting than I expected. Yes, I was wounded once. Maybe after our third date I may show you my wounds."

Smiling sweetly, she said, "Third date? Do I have a say in that?"

"Well if you want to see them on the second date I can push my modesty back just for you," I said with a sly grin.

We had a great lunch and she paid for it saying, "It's on the bank. I'm always on the lookout for good customers."

As we drove to the bank she said "The girls in the drive through window are going to die when I drive up in this."

"Then give them a show, step out of the car, show a lot of leg, and toss the keys to me with an attitude," which she did with flair and style. She turned around and waved to me as she opened the door to the bank.

I waited until she would have been in her office a few minutes then called her on her cell. "What time shall I pick you up for dinner on Saturday night?"

"Who is this?"

"A guy lets a girl drive his new Corvette and she already forgets him. What a tragedy."

"Bob, I did not recognize your phone voice. 7:00pm is great for me. Dress nice as I will be dazzling."

Saturday night could not come soon enough for me as I was excited to spend some time with Susan. She was no liar as she was absolutely dazzling when she opened the door to her apartment. Bright red dress with modest thin material that hid what appeared to be a solid C cup breast. It was a dress that a woman wore to impress a guy. I was very impressed.

"You really look dazzling this evening Susan. All the guys at the VFW will enjoy seeing you walk it."

With a smirk she said "If you take me to the VFW tonight I'll never get to see you war wounds."

"I can show them to you on dates 2 or 3."

"No, because there will not be a 2 or 3 and date number 1 would be real shaky."

At that both of us laughed as we enjoyed each other's teasing.

"I have a reservation at Capital Grill for a great steak dinner if that suits you."

"I love the place; do we have time for a glass of wine here first?"

"Yes, we do, I want to see how a successful banker lives in the big city. You have a nice apartment here. It feels very comfortable."

She laughed and said "I am successful but at an entry level range. Working my way into the big time. I got this apartment 2 years ago and one day the reasonable rent will jump to where I can't afford it. Consequently, I'm not spending much on major improvements."

I spotted a diploma from Northwestern as she was pouring the wine. I asked, "What was your major?"

"Business/Finance"

"That fits with your career choice of banking."

"Yes, it does but I would rather be the one borrowing big bucks than lending big bucks. I would like to be a real estate developer and a few years in financing real estate projects is one of the best ways to learn that trade."

We talked more about her college years and plans for the future then left for dinner.

Dinner was wonderful with interesting conversation, great food and drink.

"How did your computer skills work out in the Army?"

"The first combat mission I went on in Mosel changed my duties. We breached the house of an Iraqi fighter and found several computers that some of my comrades were going to destroy but I stopped them by saying, 'We need to bring these to the Intelligence Officer.'

"I gathered the computers and the paperwork around them, and carried it all back to our compound. When I presented my prize to the G2 office they just laughed at me and said, 'So what do we do with that electronic trash when we can't operate an Arabic computer?'

Boldly, I replied "In addition to being an Army trained interpreter, I know how to operate a computer in Arabic, Sir." Whereupon I was hastily sent to the Brigade Intelligence Officer. For several hours I sat at a desk with all manner of men with gold and silver ranks pinned on their shoulders, watching me.

"All of a sudden I stopped working, looked at my watch and said 'Oh Shit.' This immediately got everyone's attention. 'At 0200 tomorrow we will be hit with a three prong attack. Three different battle groups will descend on us from three different directions. This email outlines their entire battle plan.

"If someone could get me a map I will outline what directions they will attack from. The decision makers for this sector were already in the room so I got to listen and watch as they laid out plans for air strikes and artillery barrages while the insurgents were consolidating their troops at their rally points.

"Secrecy was the watchword as the insurgents no doubt had some spies/informants in our compound as cooks and laborers. No one below company commander level knew about the impending battle until our Air Force made their first strike. Then every man was to run to his assigned fighting position, including me.

"The rest of the report outlined where the local forces were hiding their weapons and a general description of scheduled attacks. I was privy to the conversation as to which unit I would be assigned to the next morning.

"My days as an infantryman diminished as I only went outside the wire when our company did a 'Snatch and Grab' of some insurgent leader. I was the last to enter any building to look for any computers and corresponding logs, passwords, or other important information.

"During the balance of my tour I saved many American lives by discovering and thwarting enemy operations. Not only was I working on computers that local troops confiscated, but I was working on computers flown in from other Arabic countries."

What I did not tell her was that many times I would find the banking records of the insurgents. It appeared that a numbered account would deposit funds into another numbered account of the insurgents. No names, organizations, or countries were used, just numbers. These funds were probably used to buy ammo, guns, food, bribes, and wages of the soldiers.

If this money was of value to the enemy, I felt it was my duty to deny them access to those funds. I had the information needed to move the money to any bank in the world. However, there was only one bank that I knew the routing and transit number to and only one account I knew the account number. That was my personal bank account number. I used my personal laptop to transfer that money to my bank in Chicago. I'd do some research about where it went from there later. At least the bad guys wouldn't be able to buy ammo to kill our troops that month.

That was my plan until I realized that my name was on the account the liberated funds went to. I had to change that right away. I asked for and received a four day pass to Switzerland where I set up my own numbered account to transfer the insurgent funds into. No name, no address, just a number, a password and security question. Nobody could trace this to me at that point. By using my personal laptop, the money trail became less traceable than the Army computer.

One of the main criteria of being authorized to view classified material was "A Need to Know." A general with a Top Secret clearance cannot review a "Secret" document without providing a "Need to Know" for that particular document. For that reason, I did not inform Susan about this source of revenue I had created for myself.

I continued our discussion. "From this description you can see why I have named my new book "How I beat the Insurgents sitting at my Computer Desk."

"That's an interesting story. You are an interesting man. How did you get wounded sitting at your computer? Carpal tunnel?" she said with a smile.

"Sorry I only show wounds after at least the second date."

"I think I can make that happen if you are agreeable."

"Let's go dance cheek to cheek and I will whisper to you the top secret story."

Laughing again we left and zoomed to a nice club in my Corvette where we spent the next couple of hours.

As I drove up to her apartment she asked "Would you like to come in for a while?"

"Yes I would like that very much."

After we had a few glasses of wine, I thought it was time for me to go so I asked "Is this date was good enough to have another?"

She said, "Yes, I have to get to at least the second date to see the war wound."

"Ok, I'll arrange something and give you a call."

"You won't go until you get your reward for providing me with a very entertaining evening." She stepped forward, wrapped her arms around me and gave me a hug. The hug was warm and she rubbed my shirt under my sport coat. I was being groped as she found out if my body was as good as the bull shit I was putting out. I received a very warm, wet kiss that was not as long as I would like. It was an encouragement for me to call her soon.

On our second date we had a quick dinner and enjoyed a smooth jazz concert in a park. She asked, "Would you show me the war wounds during intermission?"

"No, I am a modest person and don't want to make a spectacle of this. Can I wait until we get to your apartment?"

She replied "Certainly, by the way did you get a Purple Heart for this?"

I had the feeling she thought I was bull shitting her in order to start a session of taking clothes off. I had prepared for this and displayed a photo on my cell phone of me in my dress blue uniform with the Purple Heart prominently on my chest.

When we got back to her building, I pulled a very official looking case out of the glove compartment and took it into her apartment.

"Are you going to propose to me tonight?" As she saw the box.

Smiling I said "No, you have to hit date number 6 for that. This is my Purple Heart. Open it up and see if my name is on it and the nature of my wound."

Reverently she opened the box and expressed surprise that it really was the Purple Heart with my name engraved on the back. She silently read the orders until she said, "Shell fragment in eye."

"Correct, notice the scar on my left eyelid?"

"How did it happen?"

"I was in my quarters making myself an omelet when I heard a loud pop."

"Gunfire?" she asked

"No, my egg was bad and it exploded. Some of it went in my eye. I went to the medic tent and they took an eggshell fragment out. They had to make a report and it said 'Shell fragment in eye' so some clerk issued me a Purple Heart"

At this explanation she jumped on me and we wrestled on the couch laughing and giggling as to how I had tricked her. As we wrestled, I ended up on top of her, I looked into her eyes and both of us quit laughing and started kissing. I don't know how long the kiss went on as time stood still. It was magical. Incomparable to any other kiss I had ever experienced.

It must have been the same for her as she looked into my eyes and said "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know. That's never happened to me before."

Then another experience started; we both wanted to cuddle, kiss, rub and touch each other. There was no rush to rip each other's clothes off. Just being as one on the couch was totally satisfying for both of us.

Softly she asked, "Will you stay with me tonight?"

"Yes, even if we just stay in our clothes on the floor."

"I feel the same, but I want you naked in my bed."

More cuddling, hugging, kissing, and touching but no sex all night long.

That changed at 7:00 AM as I woke up to her mouth on my dick and her pussy close to my shoulder. It was almost a race to make up for the fucking, sucking, and licking we missed out on during night. It was intense and more personal than either of us had ever experienced.

We did not wear any clothes the entire day. She made me leave at 9 PM so she could be somewhat coherent at work the next morning.

During the next few weeks, I advertised for an office manager and was pleased when a woman named Betty Black came to visit in my office at the store. She was about 10 years older than me and quite attractive. She was married to a policeman and had been let go from Best Buy but knew the computer business better than their staff. She said her manager thought she was too old to identify with the target market of Best Buy. I hired her that day and we were both very happy with the decision.

Susan and I were spending more time together by this time. More time as in all night long together. She had an aggressive method of fucking and we matched well as it seemed my dick was the exact correct size for her pussy, or so she whimpered.

Life was exceptional until two men in suits came to see me. They both flipped out badges saying they were from the CIA and wanted to chat with me. I almost wet myself as I thought of all the things the CIA could accuse me of. They told me they wondered why there were never any funds around the enemy offices that were captured. I just stared at them and experienced the first 'foamy' in the past few years. (A foamy is when you are so scared your ass cheeks close up so tight that they pull the foam right out of the chair seat.). They did not accuse me of anything, they just mentioned that recent computer hacks of insurgent's computers revealed some complaints that an American had looted their bank accounts. They waited for my reply, so I just shrugged my shoulders and looked back at them.

Then came the big surprise. They wanted me to go to work for them as a private contractor. They would pay me $20,000 per month but they had one condition. I got to keep the first $500,000 of any insurgent's funds seized. The CIA would get the balance, no matter how big it was. It appears that I was the most efficient and productive of all the people they had hacking into enemy computers and were willing to pay for it. They were confident that I could liberate far more from the Iranians than they were paying me plus my bonus. Obviously, they planned a close accounting of our agreement.

While it was not said out loud, it was implied that if I turned down their private contractor arrangement, they might do some further research on who liberated the insurgents' funds. I had accumulated a nice nest egg of terrorist resources. Enemy clerks may think that one of their own transferred the money out prior to our over running their headquarters. Even if they knew the Americans took their money they could not trace where it went or to who.