Decisions

All Characters In This Story Are 18+ Years Old

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Monday, November 9, 1992

5:00 p.m., Palm Springs, CA

*

At the same time that Dr. William Carter was balancing his bouncing eighteen-year-old personal assistant on his lap in Los Angeles, his nineteen-year-old granddaughter, Luz Guerrero, was balancing bags and dress boxes in her arms while she struggled to enter her studio apartment at the Desert Terrace Arms in Palm Springs. At last the door sprang open and she stumbled across the threshold, packages flying. Her fluffy gray cat, Pablo, nimbly dodged the jettisoned parcels, then scurried back to inspect them for any loot he might claim. As his mistress lovingly shooed him away, the telephone rang.

Luz stopped picking up her strewn purchases and moved toward the beige Trimline phone mounted on the wall beside her make-up/writing desk. Her deep olive complexion darkened. Her jaws tightened. Hoping the caller was not her father, she mentally prepared herself, in case it was, then answered tersely, "¡Bueno!,"

Humberto Santiago Cruz blithely replied, "¡Hola Luz! ¡Estoy en San Diego!"

It had been less than seventy-two hours since Luz allowed Humberto to hump her in his Oldsmobile low-rider. Her face burned as she remembered the twenty-two-year-old boy's needle dick sliding into her coño; depositing its semillas. It had been necessary, but it shamed her all the same. Torn between her guilt and her duty to the new life she was sure her grandfather had already planted in her womb, she could not hide her surprise when she asked, "¿Qué? ¿San Diego?"

"Yes, Luz. San Diego," Humberto repeated. "But, listen! There's lots of guys here waiting for the phone and I can only talk a few minutes." Excitedly, he poured his words out in a rush. "I'm in the Marines! That's what I wanted to tell you Thursday, when I came by your place and we went for the ride. But I got... all, uhm, distracted... ¡Lo siento!"

Luz gasped as she heard the shocking news. Before she could respond, however, Humberto ran over her. "No! Don't say anything, yet! I'm not done!" Drawing a great breath, he went on rapidly, "Will you be my girl? Will you send me your picture, or your cross, or anything to keep while I'm away? I don't know when I can call you again, but I'll write you my address... it's important! I like you and I kinda thought we had, you know, something going on! ¡Decir que sí! ¡Por favor!"

Despite being stunned, Luz recognized her opportunity. She thought, "What is it that Yayo once told me? Oh, yes: 'Carpe diem!' ¡Gracias Dios! Gracias abuelo!" Aloud into the Trimline, she said, "That's amazing news, 'Berto. You sound all fired up. I'm happy for you. YES, I will be your girl and send you a picture." Biting her lip, she decided there would be no better time to lay the critical groundwork to protect her incest with her grandfather. In her mind, she said to Carter, "Es todo para ti, Yayo."

"But, 'Berto," Luz continued with quiet determination. "You may already have given me something to keep while you are away. When we made love, you were unprotected and I think I had an egg waiting for you. We may have made a baby..." She left her last word hanging on the wire.

A land mine blew up in Humberto's brain. He cursed silently, "¡Mierda! ¿Un bebé?" Voices from the men in line urged him to hurry up his call. Covering the mouthpiece for maximum privacy, he rasped, "Don't worry, Luz... maybe you are pregnant, maybe you are not... if I make it through boot, I'll graduate the first week of February. We'll know for certain by then and I'm sure I can get a three-day pass to marry you. I was a boy last week. Today I am a man - a Marine! No son of mine will be a bastard!" The recruits behind him increased their clamor. He signed off quickly, "I gotta go, Luz! I'll write you! ¡Hasta luego!"

The line went dead and Luz shook her head. As her long black curls swirled around her shoulders, she hung up the phone and exclaimed softly, "¡Perfecto... pendejo!" Pablo purred at her ankles. Looking down, she smiled and said conspiratorially, "He can think what he likes, gatito. So long as he thinks Yayo's baby, son or daughter, is his, then everyone will be safe. But now, what shall we do about Papá?"

Returning to the fallen packages, Luz gathered and arranged them neatly on her hide-a-bed couch's nubby brown-gold-and-green plaid cushions, then sat beside them. She had decided early that morning not to report her rape to the police. It was more important to cleanse Eduardo's stench and spunk from herself than to preserve it as evidence. Besides, she had reasoned, she might not even be believed, and then there would be hell to pay.

Following Eduardo's instructions, Luz took the bankroll he left her and spent the day on a shopping spree. Even though she had been lavish, she still had more than thirteen hundred dollars left and, except for getting her hair done, she could not think what else to spend it on. Her head spun as she wondered, "Should I use it to move away? Buy a gun?" One thing was completely certain: Never again would she be alone with him.

While she fretted over how to move on from last night's unwanted triple fuck, Luz's phone rang again. Once more her heart rose to her throat and choked her. She walked to her vanity and warily picked up. Much to her relief, Mariana Guerrero's warm voice asked, "¿Luz? ¿Como estas?"

Luz' bravery crumbled. Feeling ten years younger, she wept, "Oh, Mamá!

Mari's chest swelled as she heard her daughter's pain. She instantly put off her first plan to announce her impending move into Carter's home. Instead, as only a mother can, she empathetically commanded, "Luz! Stop whatever it is you are doing and come to me. NOW! At the Casa Cody Hotel. I want to hear everything... but in person. ¡Darse prisa! ¡Te sentirás mejor!"

Meanwhile, in Cathedral City, Eduardo Guerrero stood naked before the dresser mirror in his bedroom. He stared past his reflection at the turned down Egyptian cotton duvet on the king-size bed behind him. Tossing back his tequila, he slapped the empty double shot glass onto the teak dresser top. Then, picking up a gold picture frame, he spat viciously onto his wife's image and swore, "¡Pudrirse en el infierno, puta!"

Eduardo put Mariana's photo face down on the polished wood and lifted another identically framed picture with his right hand. Gazing at Luz in her crisp white quinceañera party dress, he licked his lips and contemplated his next project. His stubby derringer reacted naturally as he said pensively, "Next time, it won't matter if I come fast, hija. You will be sucking on me!"

Dropping his hand, Eduardo bumped his stout hard prick's head onto Luz's portrait then replaced the frame upright on the dresser, centered before his crotch. A clear pre-cum glop glistened on the girl's nose. Smiling, he envisioned her flat oval cheeks advancing toward his proud red mushroom cap. He closed his eyes to better see her as he continued his soliloquy.

"Perhaps tomorrow, hija, right here, in my bed. Or, if you are reluctant, maybe I will have to tie you to a chair in the dining room." Eduardo cuddled his huge testicles with his left hand while he closed his right thumb and forefinger into a circle behind his cock's broad helmet. "I think, though, that after last night, you will be hungry and want me. You were a noisy squirmy kitten. Oh, yes, you will drink all my cream and be happy. I am sure of it!"

Imagining his daughter's full wide lips opening, then closing, upon his short fat prick's hard neck, Eduardo stroked himself while he spoke into the room. His cupped palm tightened and pulsed around his rocks. Thrills ran from his asshole to his ears while his chest expanded and his breaths grew short. He fell silent and concentrated on the surging sensations in his groin and gut.

While his mind dwelled on fantasy, Eduardo's body lived for his flashing fingers' reality. His nuts churned in his shrinking ballsack as his glutes autonomically flexed and quivered. As always, he finished quickly and powerfully. Thick white ropes streamed from his aggravated slit, splattered Luz' icon and festooned the lace dresser scarf beneath it.

Eduardo opened his eyes, looked smugly at the cum cascading on his daughter's photograph and exclaimed, "¡Ahí! ¡Lo tienes, hija! Ahí está tu gusto!" Stepping close to the dresser, he again picked up the picture and brought it near to his still stiff four-inch erection. This time he swiped the photo broadly against his depleted balls and wide oval shaft. His ejaculate smeared from corner-to-corner, then squished between the covering glass and the metal frame.

Eduardo insouciantly flipped the defiled portrait back onto the dresser, walked over to his high-boy bureau and pulled out clean Jockey briefs. Then, having dressed in a fresh starched white shirt and dark silk business suit, he returned to the dresser. After adjusting his cravat's knot in the mirror, he kissed his right middle finger tip, touched it to Luz' sticky face and said softly, "Hasta mañana, hija." Switching off the bedroom lights, he left his casa for La Familia Authentic Mexican Restaurant, to supervise the dinner shift.

Luz crunched across the Desert Terrace Arms' pink gravel walkway toward its open parking lot, happier than she had been all day. All her life, when she had troubles, she was glad that her mother was there to help her work through them. "Mamá will know what to do about Papá," she thought. "Also, I shall tell her I am embarazada. But, don't worry, Yayo... I will not tell her of our special love. She can think it was 'Berto."

As she sat behind the wheel in her mustard-color 1989 Yugo GV3, Luz frowned at the cherry-red duct tape she had used to mend the passenger's bucket seat's torn upholstery. Turning the ignition key, she said to herself, "Tomorrow I shall go the salvage yard in Indio and see if they have a better seat. Maybe I can replace that lost hubcap, too!" Pleased that she had thought of more things she could spend Eduardo's money on, she shoved the shifter into reverse and backed out from her parking space.

Luz was still grinning when she pulled up to the curb near the Casa Cody Hotel. Her boot heels clicked sharply on the sidewalk and her hard leather shoulder purse bounced on her butt as she strode. The bellman at the front door seriously studied the approaching pulchritude bobbling behind her snap-front green plaid western shirt and swaying in her definitely shrunk-to-fit Levi's blue jeans. He gave her a smart salute and a broad smile, then snapped his head around to ogle her disappearing rear view.

Across the lobby, Mariana rose from her low bucket armchair and held out welcoming arms. Luz trotted the last few steps and enfolded herself in her mother's warm hug. Both women spoke at the same time, then fell politely silent to give one another the floor. When neither one restarted the conversation, they laughed together at their awkwardness.

Mari pulled back from the embrace, beamed at her daughter and noted, "It is obvious we both have much to say! Let's go to my bungalow. We'll order a nice meal from room service and talk until we are hoarse."

Luz' teeth sparkled as she answered, "Si Mamá, hagámoslo." Then, to the bellman's delight, the voluptuous women paraded past his post, arm-in-arm, toward the poolside suites.

As Eduardo walked into the La Familia kitchen from the back alley door, Tracy, the senior night waitress, was reaching for a carne asada order on the pass-through shelf to the dining area. Perturbed that Carlos, the cook, was nowhere to be seen, Eduardo demanded curtly, "¿Donde esta Carlos?"

Tracy well knew her boss hated to use English if he could avoid it, and she had sufficient bilingual skills to accommodate him, but, she also knew when it was best to say as little as possible. Eduardo's clouded face and gruff tone flagged his mood. Deciding to fly low, she pointed at the door he had only just entered and answered, "No se. ¿Quizás está afuera fumando?" With a quick shrug, she turned and departed to serve her table.

Since it was impossible for him to have walked past his smoking cook, and because he could see through its open door that the employee bathroom was empty, Eduardo turned his attention to the pantry. "Perhaps he is getting more arroz or something," he thought. Pushing through the ajar storeroom door, he saw his employee was getting something, but it was not rice. Carlos had the brand new Anglo waitress, Alice, pressed to the wall with his hand up her pleated black cotton skirt.

Proving the adage about three being a crowd, Eduardo consumed all the excess personal space around the pair and shouted, "¡Hola! ¿Qué es esto?" Then, pulling Carlos back from the girl, he pushed him away, yelling, "¡Ve a cocinar! ¡Hablamos más tarde!"

Carlos slunk from the pantry without looking back. Eduardo kicked the door completely closed and growled in heavily accented English, "You work pretty fast. This is only your second shift." Stepping forward, he stood even closer to the frightened waitress than had Carlos, but, unlike the cook, he did not touch her. With his nose only an inch from hers, he hissed, "Would you like to be fired? Do you want to be responsible for Carlos losing his job? What about his wife? Do you want me to tell her the father of her two-year-old daughter is screwing around on her at work?"

Alice's gray eyes widened in her small round face. She fought back tears and stammered in a tiny tinny voice, "N-no, Eh-eh-dwardo."

Eduardo drew in Alice's shampooed ash blonde hair's sweet perfume and returned it with his own sirocco-hot teqilla-scented breath. "Well, all of that will happen, unless..." He paused strategically and watched the blood drain from her already naturally pale complexion.

Alice quavered, "Uh-uhn-less what?"

Eduardo narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice to be barely audible. "Unless you are very nice. You were not fighting with Carlos. That was nice. Can you be nice to me if I don't fire you, but only put you on probation?"

Alice hesitated. She heard what she heard, but she could not help wondering, "Is this really happening?"

Eduardo carefully placed his left hand on Alice's upper right arm, on her white cotton peasant blouse's puffed quarter-sleeve, and directly addressed the reluctance he sensed. "Alice, I saw on your application that your birthday is October 28, 1971. You turned twenty-one almost two weeks ago. You are an adult and you can make adult decisions." He gave her soft slim biceps a gentle squeeze, then quickly released his grip as he added, "There is no pressure here from me. You know the score. You make your choice."

Alice swallowed hard, then said, "Yes, Eduardo. If you put me on probation, I can be very nice. But, please don't fire Carlos, or tell his wife. I promise I will not do anything like this with him again." She dipped her chin and half-mumbled, "I don't really know why I let him make out with me tonight. It just sort of... you know, happened."

Eduardo relented and backed off a foot. Nodding his head, he said, "Esta bien. We'll see how it works out. But, before I can... adjust your schedule, let us say... I want to look more closely at your qualifications." Pulling up the nearby step-stool his shorter employees used to reach to pantry's top shelves, he sat with his legs spread and his hands on his knees. "So, mi pruebita, take off your skirt and blouse. Let me see what interested Carlos so much."

Alice gulped again, but she saw no options. She slipped her hands inside her full skirt's elasticized waist and pushed it straight past her hips. Falling to the floor, it hid her black New Balance tennis shoes and her low-cut pom socks, but fully revealed her smooth shapely legs tapering nicely to her snow-white National bikini briefs. Eduardo noted the evidence left by Carlos' finger play. Below the shadowed sooty patch behind their drier upper panel, the panties were transparently wet and indented along her coño's thin central crease.

"Hasta ahora tan bueno," Eduardo breathed. Then, louder, he urged, "Go on. The blouse."

At five-foot-one and ninety-nine pounds, Alice was distinctly petite. Her draped peasant top's loose fit concealed that she also had a decidedly hourglass figure. When she raised it above her head and shook her ponytail free from her blouse, Eduardo sucked in his breath. Her pert breasts jiggled like pale white pomegranates in her brighter white bra's soft polyester/cotton cups.

Unconsciously licking his lips as he exhaled noisily through his nose, Eduardo exclaimed softly, "Muy bueno. ¡Muy bueno, de verdad!" Alice's high school Spanish was good enough for her to blush at the sincere compliment. Her rosy flush excited the fire hydrant in his pants. Patting himself inside his spread knees, then beckoning with curling fingers, he lowed, "Ven aquí, pruebita."

As Alice obediently stepped forward to stand between his shins, Eduardo stared transfixed at her tummy's most significant feature: a large copper-red and black scorpion tattoo. Its curved segmented stinger tail encircled her belly-button while its bending stylized body and legs crawled down over her abdomen to her bikini waistband. He realized the darkness under her thin briefs, which he had mistaken for pubic hair was, in fact, the scorpion's head and pincers.

Resting his left palm lightly on Alice's small bottom, Eduardo barely touched his right index finger to the scorpion's sting, the quickly pulled back as if he had actually been stabbed. He chuckled at his little joke and averred, "So, mi pruebita has a friend from the desert." Returning his fingertip to the tattoo, he sensually traced its S-curved shape from tail-tip to panty's edge. Then, bumping over the elastic, he patted the hidden head before continuing his downward journey.

"I wonder," Eduardo quietly speculated. "Did Carlos know how near danger was?" Inverting his hand, he pushed it between Alice's thighs at their critical junction and pressed his thumb pad firmly where he knew her clitty would be. A sharply pleasant jolt raced through her. She sniffed and flexed her taut glutes as he pulled her closer in.

Hooking Alice's undies' waistband and freshly re-soaked gusset, Eduardo jerked them swiftly to her knees as he went on, "I want to see where your pet is burrowing. Scorpions are famous for getting into warm dark crevices." He moved his hands to her hams and held her tremulous legs immobile while he examined the tattoo's detail.

The arachnid's left pincer pointed directly to Alice's bald prepuce; its downward arcing right claw hugged her mons near her thigh cleft. Eduardo thought her hairless pussy could not be prettier. Deliberately letting it simmer slowly in its juices, he stroked his hands upward past her hips and over her ribs. She was slim, but not skinny; her flesh slipped wonderfully beneath his sliding palms.

Boys and young men had loved on Alice before, but she had never felt so electrically charged as she did now. She could not speak. She could barely breathe. Her entire body was strung out to its breaking point.

Beneath her breasts, Eduardo splayed his hands and shoved Alice's bra above her full upright tits. Her tiny beige pop rivet nipples stood as tall as they could against their excited little platforms. He captured the crowning nubs and spun his finger tips on them as if he was fine tuning radio equipment. She squeaked, then purred, then leaned into his palms and moaned.

Eduardo exclaimed huskily, "Oh ho! Mi pruebita begins to sing!" Craning his neck, he kissed her sternum and rubbed his cheeks against her hills' inside slopes. Then, looking up and making eye contact, he cautioned, "But, not too loudly. You don't want Carlos to feel bad by hearing what he is missing!"

Alice closed her eyes and tipped her head to the ceiling as gentle waves turned to swelling rollers in her chest. Eduardo dropped his hands back to her tight ass and gripped her harder than before. Pulling her still closer, he vised her thighs between his and latched onto her left butterscotch gumdrop. She wound her fingers in his hair and held him in place, in case he changed his mind and tried to quit sucking.