All things considered, Jack was not a bad kid. He was good looking, athletic, intelligent and well-mannered. He had been sexually active since he was thirteen and, being your typical hormone-saturated teen-aged boy, never passed up the opportunity for sex, and wasn't above pressing for it. But Jack had never forced himself on anyone. He really didn't have to. As was mentioned earlier, Jack was a good looking kid. Having turned eighteen just a month before the story starts, Jack had deep blue eyes and a handsome face that hinted at the ruggedly handsome man Jack would become when he left adolescence completely behind. He was fair skinned, and the years of playing football and lifting weights, plus the additional training provided for him by his father, a retired marine major, and given him a fit, muscular body. Plus, Jack always had money, since his father did very, VERY well by the family. And, at eighteen, Jack was a very considerate lover, all things considered. Now, the spending money Jack had in his pocket is the crux of the story. That money was put there by his father's business. Technically, his father ran an import/export business. In reality, his father had another business that involved bookies.
The business arrangement was simple. Bookies give and take bets on all sorts of sporting events. The system was such that, for the most part, the bookies collected more money than they had to pay out. As the saying goes, the house always wins. Invariably, though, certain bettors ran up considerable tabs and then refused to pay. Since bookmaking is an illegal occupation in most states of the U.S., the bookies really didn't have the option of going to a legitimate collection agency. This is where Jack's father came in. The bookies sold these debts to Jack's father for a fraction of their total value. Thereafter, it was Jack's father's business to collect the full debt.
Jack's father was very convincing. As the business got bigger, Jack brought in other individuals he had known in the military. The booming business soon came to the notice of various criminal organizations. No problem. Jack's father gave them a percentage fee for the privilege of operating in their "areas of influence." To most of the organizations, this was a no-brainer. They got cash every three months for letting Jack's father do all the work in peace. For those few that got greedy, the other organizations stepped in quickly. No one wanted to kill the goose that laid the golden egg.
Jack's father lived in a very well-to-do, upper middle class neighborhood. He could have probably lived somewhere more upscale, but Jack's father wanted to stay below the law enforcement radar. And it wasn't as if the family didn't live well. They lived very well indeed. At 18, Jack was driving a Jaguar. Life was good.
And then Jill moved in next door.
More importantly, Jill moved in next door with her considerably older husband, Jim LaRouche. Jill was her husband's trophy wife. Jim was a senior partner in his engineering firm, and as soon as he made senior partner, he dumped his first wife and married Jill, an administrative assistant in his firm. Jim was 54, and Jill was 23, and from the start, it was obvious what each wanted from the other. Jill was looking for a husband who could provide her with a very comfortable living style. Jim was looking for a hot young thing that he could...well, not to mince words, that he could fuck every time the urge hit him.
Jill was indeed hot, though it wasn't the usual combination of things that made her hot. She had a face that seemed to combine the features of Anne Coulter and Celine Dion. It wasn't an unattractive face. It just wasn't the prettiest. And the majority of Jill's feminine curves were a bit muted. They were there, but Jill was built on more slender lines.
No, the two things that made Jill hot were her hair and her breasts. Her breasts weren't overly huge, but they were a nice sized 34D that looked even bigger on her slender frame. And her pale blonde hair that was just long enough to barely cover them promoted her from the realm of hottie to ultra-hottie. When Jack had first met the LaRouches, it took all his will power simply not to stare and salivate at Jill's chest, contained in a tight pink shirt. Jill's husband Jim had confided/bragged to Jack and his father in an all-male bull session that not only were all of Jill's measurements natural, but that she was a natural blonde as well. Jack's father just grunted noncommittally, thinking Jim to be an unsophisticated boob to not only leave his first wife, but to give intimate details of his second wife to near strangers. Jack stored this information for future masturbation sessions.
And masturbation sessions aplenty there were, all of them featuring Jill LaRouche. Even when Jack was with other girls and women, he was fucking Jill LaRouche.
Jack's obsession was not lost on Jill's husband, Jim. As noted earlier, Jim fucked Jill every time he wanted to. Unfortunately, as the saying goes, the spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak. Jim was both old and out of shape, which affected his sexual performance (or lack thereof) greatly. So he took pleasure with his wife in other ways, primarily in showing her off to other men and then denying her to them. It was a game of "I've got what you want but you can't have it. Look all you want, but you can never touch."
Jill, for her part, was miserable when her husband played these games. She had signed a prenuptial when she had married her husband that said if she committed adultery, Jim could divorce her and leave her without a cent. Plus, unlike Jim, Jill held a belief that marriage was sacrosanct. She might have gotten into the marriage with Jim for all the wrong reasons, but once she was in that marriage, she was going to remain committed to it.
So, Jim would ask Jack if Jack wouldn't mind doing some of the outside yard work around the LaRouche house. Jim explained he really was too busy and perhaps a bit too old to do those things himself, and that Jill didn't have the muscle to do it. Jack readily agreed. Jill was instructed by her husband to use those times Jack was there to sunbathe in her bikini. Jill thought this was sick on her husband's part, but had no choice but to agree. By the time Jack was finished with the yard work and spending two hours looking at Jill's scantily clad body, he was so aroused that he immediately went back to his room next door and masturbated. Jill, too, was getting aroused by these sessions, and more than once dashed into the house to "take the edge off." Knowing, though, that her husband was getting off on creating this level of sexual frustration in Jack, and that she was getting aroused at the thought of Jack's cock getting rock hard at the sight of her body, was making her feel doubly guilty.
This might have continued unabated until four months later, when Jack left for college . But then Jill's husband made a mistake. He developed a gambling habit.
* * * * *
It started off small, really. Jim LaRouche had won a couple of betting pools at his firm. He made an offhand remark to a junior partner that he felt so lucky, maybe he should head to Atlantic City for the weekend. The junior partner jokingly replied that if Jim wanted to save money on airfare, he knew the phone number of a bookie. Jim had forgotten the remark until three weeks later, when he won a prize at an online sporting news website for picking the most winners for that weekend's college football games. Jim thought to himself that maybe he out to get that phone number. The way he that he could pick winners would make betting easy money.
And at the beginning, it was just that. Jim put money on a few teams, and won. Then he put more money on more games, and won bigger. To Jim, it was as if he was earning a supplemental income without having to really work at it, and at the same time having a little illicit fun.
And then Jim picked more losers than winners one weekend. No problem, Jim thought, just a fluke. And the next three weekends did indeed seem to prove it was a fluke, as he easily recouped his losses.
And then he lost another weekend. And another. And the losses started stacking up. Jim started betting bigger and bigger to make up for his losses, and his debt just got bigger.
And then one day, Jim was in debt for a hundred thousand dollars. His bookie told him no more bets until Jim made good his debt.
Jim was furious. He begged, threatened, cajoled. The bookie said no dice. No more bets, no more credits, no more nothing, until you pay your debt off. Jim tried to go to other bookies, but word had gotten around. No one was going to take Jim's action until he made good his debt.
Then Jim started ducking his bookie's call. The bookie sent people to Jim's office, and even once to Jim's house. After a week, the bookie decided Jim was going to be a deadbeat and took steps. First, he let it be known on the bookie network that Jim was a deadbeat. Then he sold Jim's debt to Jack's Dad for a fraction of the debt's face value.
* * * * *
