Empty Nesters

This is the second chapter of my story Empty Nesters. I strongly recommend reading the first chapter, titled simply "Empty Nesters" before reading this. This part of the story will make more sense if you do.

This story is a work of fiction. Some real places and institutions are mentioned or implied, but they are used fictitiously here. Insofar as the author knows, no real person affiliated with any of those places or institutions has done anything akin to what is described in this story. Any similarities between any character in this story and any real person are coincidental and unintended. I encourage comments on this story, both favorable and unfavorable. Thank you for reading.

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The realization that I had just seen my 19-year-old daughter at the nude bubble party in Cap d'Agde and that she had grabbed my dick was too much for me. I'm afraid I pissed people off as I stumbled out of the bubbles and into the street. April, my wife, was waiting for me. Gwen, our daughter, followed me.

The first thing my confused brain processed was that April did not seem at all upset to see Gwen nude in Cap d'Agde. The second thing I realized, though I'm sorry to admit it, was that Gwen looked fantastic nude. Fortunately, she got her looks from her mother. The third thing I realized was that Paul Harz, Ute's and Iens's son, had followed Gwen out of the bubbles.

We were standing in the street outside the bar holding the party. Gwen stood next to her mother. Paul stood on the other side of Gwen. "You wanted to see Gwen while we were in Europe," April said, smiling.

I was still speechless. Gwen, I think to tease me, said, "This is almost all there is to see Dad. What do you think?" Gwen turned to April and said, "I always thought Dad probably looked good naked. It must feel good when he's in you."

"It does Dear," April said. "Conceiving you involved a wonderful orgasm. Your father always gives me great Os." April glanced at Paul Harz's large dick and added, "It looks like you're getting something pretty nice too."

"Yeah," Gwen said, "Paul feels great."

This could not be real I thought. Surely my wife and my daughter are not talking about being fucked while the three of us stand naked in a street in the south of France. At least Gwen had traded up to Paul Harz. I had not been impressed with the boy whom I suspected was fucking her in high school.

April looked at me. "I guess you are due an explanation, Dear," she said. "Let's go back to the apartment and talk." April turned and started walking away. Gwen and Paul turned and walked with her. I was still trying to process what was happening.

They had walked several steps before Gwen turned back and said, "Are you coming Dad or are you just going to look at my bare ass?" I realized I had been looking at Gwen's bare ass and comparing it to April's. No one had an ass as stunning as April's, but Gwen came close.

April extended an arm in my direction. "Will, come on. All will become clear." I walked up to them. April lowered her arm, took my hand in hers, and held it for the several blocks we walked to the apartment.

Ute and Iens were in the apartment. Ute gave her strapping son a bare hug. Paul and Iens shook hands. Ute and Iens didn't seem surprised to see Gwen and Paul. Apparently, everyone knew what was going on except me. Ute said, "Will, you look like you need a drink. I'll get you something." She went into the kitchen and came back a few moments later carrying a glass with ice in a clear liquid. I took a sip and recognized the taste of gin and tonic. I had stopped drinking spirits completely around the time Gwen was born. I finished the G & T in one gulp.

"Sit down Will," April instructed. She sat next to me. "Ok," April said. "First, and I thought you realized this, Gwen and Paul fell for each other back at Christmas. She wanted to spend the summer in Paris because Paul was going to be there."

"I asked Mom not to tell you that part," Gwen interjected, "because I wasn't sure how you'd react."

"When Gwen told me that the two of them would be traveling around Europe in August before Gwen went back to school," April said, "I gave Gwen our itinerary with the idea we would meet them somewhere."

"Ute regularly e-mails and texts Paul about what the four of you have done together," Gwen said, picking up the story. "Paul shared those e-mail and texts with me."

"We don't keep anything from Paul," Ute interjected.

"Paul thinks what you two are doing with Ute and Iens shows I have really great parents," Gwen said. "I think so too. I'm proud you guys have become nudists. I've wanted to go nude in public for years. I hated wearing a suit back when I was on swim team in high school. I kept my mouth shut because I thought you would be upset. I had heard of Cap d'Agde and wanted to see it. When I saw it on your itinerary, I thought this would be the perfect opportunity for me to come out of the closet. How can you get upset with me for being nude if you are nude yourself?"

"I'm a bit guilty," April said. "Gwen called me and told me her plan. Frankly, I enjoy being nude so much I was glad Gwen wanted to go nude too. I thought you would take it better if we just sprung it on you as a fait accompli."

Gwen had a point, although I was reluctant to concede that. Since she had left for college almost a year ago, April and I had gone nude in many public settings. We both loved doing that. We had also made love with friends, and in Jamaica strangers, watching. I hoped Gwen didn't know about that. I could hardly fault my daughter for doing what her mother and I were doing. There was the issue of her grabbing my dick a few minutes ago. I decided to let that go. Besides, it had felt good until I realized whose hand it was.

"I, I'm sorry if I reacted badly," I said. "You caught me by surprise. I never thought of my little girl with no clothes on. That my little girl has turned into the beautiful naked woman I see now just blindsided me."

"I'm glad you're ok with it," Gwen said, "because I enjoy being nude too much to stop." Gwen was always a bit headstrong. She stood up from her chair. "You cannot have gotten that good a look at the bubble party," she said, ignoring the fact that we'd been standing in the street and had walked here nude. "Take a good look Dad. You're a part of me." Gwen stood facing me for a moment before slowly turning in a complete circle. When she was facing me again, she raised her right leg, grasped her calf with her hand, and extended her leg almost straight above her head in a dancer's move. Her flexibility was impressive, but she had completely exposed herself.

I felt a little uncomfortable, but I looked at Gwen. I thought again as I'd thought in the street that she was very beautiful with nothing on. Paul was a lucky man to be making love to her. Then, I thought that I was even luckier: I made love to her mother.

"When did you get in?" I asked to lower the temperature.

"This morning," Paul said, speaking for the first time. "I called Father, who said we could stay in the apartment also." Paul had a deep voice and an odd mix of German and English accents. His English was faultless, though.

"When are you going back?" I asked.

Gwen smiled. "When you do," she said. "We got tickets on the same flights you and Mom are on."

"I upgraded us all to First Class," April said, "because Gwen and Paul could get seats across the aisle from us."

"Paul is going with you?" I asked.

"I found an excellent doctoral program in my field in Boston," he said. This sounded serious if Paul was transferring from London to Boston, obviously to be closer to Gwen.

Over our last few days in Cap d'Agde, I did my best to see Gwen not as my daughter but as a very beautiful and personable young woman. That worked up to a point. I also spent a lot of time talking with Paul, not that I was vetting him or anything like that. I ended up liking the guy. I knew his parents were good people. It appeared to me that had passed down.

To my surprise, Glenda called me in France. Things were happening at our law firm. She wanted to give me a "head's up" that trouble was brewing.

The firm's profits had never been shared equally. Two of our partners, Doris Greene and Charles Redmon, had been designated "founding partners" and got 60% of our profit. That had made sense initially because Doris and Charles had provided most of the capital to get the firm going. They had recouped that investment many times over in the years since. They also devoted increasing amounts of their time to non-legal activities such that their contribution to our gross revenues, through fees they billed and work they brought in for the rest of us, had dropped below eight percent annually.

There had been varying degrees of disgruntlement among the six "non-founding partners" for the last three or four years. Since we generated almost all the revenue, we collectively had a lot of leverage. However, getting lawyers to act collectively is harder than herding cats. One or two of us leaving wouldn't be that big a deal and the departing lawyers would have a fight with Doris and Charles over who "owned" the clients. The grossly unequal distribution of the fee from my copyright case had further antagonized the six lesser partners. I had known all that before I took my summer off.

Glenda was calling to tell me that our intellectual property guru, Jack Rast, had spent the summer on a deep dive into the firm's accounts, traditionally the exclusive domain of Doris and Charles. Jack had discovered that, for each of the last seven years, our annual gross revenue had been at least $ 2 million greater than the sum of our annual expenses, reserve fund contributions, and profit distributions. This excess was simply not accounted for. Jack and Glenda got our bank to let them look at the individual deposits and withdrawals. That showed these annual excess revenues had gone to Doris and Charles, "off the top" if you will, before they calculated the profit to be distributed 60% to them and 40% among the rest of us. My fellow "non-founding partners" were waiting for me to return to confront Doris and Charles.

The meeting with Doris and Charles was unpleasant, to say the least. "Ungrateful pricks" was one of the nicer things they called us. However, a lawsuit publicly disclosing that Doris and Charles had been ripping off their partners for years would ruin their carefully cultivated reputations. After more name-calling and threats, an agreement was reached to dissolve the firm. The reserve fund plus a contribution from Doris and Charles was distributed among the "non-founding partners," giving each of us about $ 4 million after taxes. We all had to find new offices though. Doris and Charles owned the building containing the firm's offices (for which our firm had paid substantial rent). They made it clear we could not stay there under any circumstances.

The six of us should have started our own firm. That did not happen. Jack and another partner joined an existing firm. A third partner went in-house at a non-profit. Glenda decided to start her own shop and asked me to join her. Glenda was an ideal person to partner with. However, the dishonesty I'd encountered during the copyright case, coupled with discovering that my own partners were screwing me, left me doubting whether I wanted to, or could, continue practicing. I declined Glenda's invitation.

Much like Gwen's departure for college a year earlier, the end of our law firm left me with a lot of spare time and no ideas how to use it. For want of anything else, I started helping April with the non-technical aspects of her business, like billing and sales tax reports.

April ran her own one-woman business doing tech consulting. Once or twice a year, she wrote custom programs for clients. She advised some medium-sized and small businesses, like Ute's doctor's group, on upgrading and new procurement of hardware and software. She also fixed those clients' computer problems. The beauty of the business was that April could do most of it remotely. It wasn't uncommon for her to earn a couple thousand dollars of a morning sitting nude at her laptop beside the pool. Her skills and reputation let her charge premium rates, netting six figures a year. It was great for her, but after a couple months, I was bored silly.

Salvation came, once again, from Ute. Ute had treated a patient, successfully, who was a photographer. During his treatment, he had talked with Ute about some ideas he wanted to pursue. Ute asked April and me to meet with him.

April and I met Chris Feldman and his wife Doreen at a coffee shop near his studio. Chris told us that, although he did any photographic work that would pay, his interest was in photographing nudes. He had a gallery in our city and one in New York that sold his work. The models he found were in their twenties. "Don't get me wrong," Chris said, "they are great people. But not everyone is a twenty-something. I'd like greater diversity in my models." Chris looked at us for a minute or more before saying, "you look very promising clothed, but I'd really like to see both of you naked."

We paid for our coffees and the four of us walked the couple of blocks to Chris's studio. April and I had become very accustomed to stripping off in front of people we had just met. We stood naked in the center of the room while Chris and Doreen walked around us slowly, looking at our nude bodies. They finished their inspection, walked several feet away from us, and had a short, whispered conversation. That ended with each of them nodding their heads.

Chris turned and took a step towards us. "You guys look great for your ages," he said. "I especially like that neither of you is pierced and you have no tattoos. I'd like to work with you." With April and me still nude, we began discussing terms. Chris offered to pay us each $ 20/hour to pose and he got all rights to the images. Chris would not ask us to pose performing any sexual acts. The issue of showing our faces came up, which Chris viewed as essential. April didn't care because her business was built on her skills, not what her clients thought about her "character" or about what she did in her spare time. I had effectively quit practicing law, so I decided that it didn't matter if my face appeared in nude photographs.

We were back a couple days later for our first session. Chris shot what he called "figure studies" of us standing individually from front and back. Chris had each of us stand with our legs spread while he lay on his back between our legs taking pictures of our pubes from below. The session ended with a few pictures of April and me standing side-by-side, and hugging.

A rare warm day was forecast for that November and Chris called to ask whether April and I were willing to do a nude shoot that day in a state park. Of course, we were willing! Chris had us climbing trees, lying together in a field, and chasing each other through the woods. It was a weekday, so the park was not crowded. A few people saw us, but nothing came of that.

Chris had hoped we could persuade Ute and Iens to pose. They were happy to go naked in situations where everyone else, or almost everyone else, was naked too. Having nude pictures circulating was another matter. Ute particularly was concerned since, as a foreign citizen, her privilege to practice medicine in our state was always somewhat tenuous. Chris then went in a different direction, posing April and me nude with clothed models. One picture I remember well was taken from above and showed April nude in the center of a group of men wearing suits.

The following spring, Chris hired about a dozen models. Just after dawn one Sunday, we all went downtown. The models were in suits carrying briefcases. Chris posed them on a sidewalk as if they were office workers going to or from work. April and I were among them, also carrying briefcases. April wore only heels, and I wore only wingtips.

We learned that Doreen was an artist, doing primarily sketches and oil paintings. Her pictures all had erotic themes. She persuaded April and me to pose for her by showing us how she could render our faces in her pictures so that they didn't look exactly like us.

The first work we did with Doreen was a series of sketches she called "discovery." The first sketch showed only my limp dick and balls. April's hand appeared in the second sketch. The third sketch showed April's hand holding my balls. The fourth showed her hand around my dick. The series continued for three more pictures, showing my dick getting harder, until the final sketch showed me very hard with April's hand around my dick and semen starting to shoot. The second part of the series focused on April's pussy with my hand coming into the series and ultimately finger-fucking her. The final sketch, which Doreen called "unity," showed April's pussy with the head of my erect dick just beginning to enter her. It took Doreen thirty to forty minutes to do one of those sketches. Holding my dick in position just entering April for that long was work, but fun work. Doreen sold the sketches to a single buyer through her New York dealer. April and I often laughed about sketches of our pubes lining a hallway of a mansion in the Hamptons.

Doreen did four more sketches in our first round of work with her. The first pair were two views of April sitting on a bench with me between her legs eating her. Doreen drew one view from behind me that showed most of April, including the expression on her face. The other view was over April's shoulder and showed most of my face pressed against April's pussy and mound. The other pair were basically the same thing except that April was sucking me. In the "over-the-shoulder" view of that pair, Doreen had April back her head away from me slightly so she could show the shaft of my dick in April's mouth. Doreen gave us prints of these sketches. We hung them in our bedroom.

Our daughter Gwen spent summer after her sophomore year in Europe again with Paul. I was glad April's business was making money. In June of that year, my friend and former law partner Glenda Porter sucked me back into practicing law.

Glenda represented doctors, before the state board, in hospital credentialling proceedings, and in disputes with other doctors. One of her recently acquired clients was a relatively young cardiac and peripheral vascular surgeon, Dr. Daniel O'Donnell, whom we called "Dr. DOD." What set Dr. DOD apart was his mastery of very new technology that reduced the need for invasive treatments and made the invasive treatments much less invasive. An out-of-state hospital chain trying to break into our market built a hospital on the east side of town equipped for Dr. DOD.

Insurers liked Dr. DOD because he shortened hospital stays. Patients liked him because he did less surgery, and his surgeries were much less uncomfortable for the patients. The established surgeons in town hated him. Typically, the established surgeons could eliminate an upstart competitor by using their control of the medical staffs at the older, established hospitals to deny the upstart surgical privileges. That did not work on Dr. DOD because he was, in effect, the medical staff at his hospital.

The established surgeons tried to get the state board to suspend or revoke Dr. DOD's license. Glenda thwarted that before any formal proceedings began. Undeterred, the other doctors began running TV, radio, and newspaper ads saying that Dr. DOD's treatment methods were dangerous. The established surgeons also began calling the primary care doctors who made the referrals and threatening them with consequences unless they stopped referring patients to Dr. DOD. That was when Glenda recruited my help.

Glenda had filed a lawsuit alleging a variety of claims, including state and federal antitrust claims, against our city's two large groups of cardiac surgeons, vascular surgeons, and cardiologists. They were the moving force behind the campaign against Dr. DOD. Glenda asked me to help her litigate the case. Our primary claim asserted that the ads were defamatory. After all, the FDA had approved Dr. DOD's methods of treatment as "safe and effective." The doctor groups defended primarily on the basis that the FDA was wrong and their ads about Dr. DOD were true.