The story does not contain sexual activity involving minors.
Of note: Some readers do not accept stories about a relationship between a son and his stepmother as incest, but I do.
...
I grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth. Mom was a professor of Chemistry at the university, and Dad was an entrepreneur who became a billionaire after founding several successful startups. They were very happy together and lived normal life without too much extravagance, but I was never spared anything I wished. I had the newest phone, video games, bicycle, and later a new BMW.
Once I turned 18, my parents summoned me and explained that now, that I was considered an adult, it was time to act like one. From then on, in addition to studying in college, they expected me to find a part time job, like tutoring other students in my free time, and stop overspending. It was unexpected, but I understood their rationale. Fortunately, I didn't have to struggle to achieve good grades, and I had ample time to teach high school students math and physics.
After finishing my studies, I became an environmental physicist and was accepted to Argonne National Laboratory. I loved my job and, over the years, got multiple awards and promotions. My parents were very proud of my success at work.
...
The accomplishments in my profession hid a deep hole in my life. I was only 5'6" and weighed 175 pounds. I thought my face and body were unimpressive. Growing up, I noticed the handsome, tall, athletic guys got the attractive girls. Students like me had no luck. Twice I attempted to talk to girls and invite them to a movie, but got rejected unceremoniously and was reluctant to try again. In my youth I masturbated a lot, and later in life, I was doing it on average about twice a week, mostly fantasizing about pretty actresses.
Six months after I turned 40, my loving mother began losing weight. Dad joked, "Honey, stop exercising so much and eat more. At 63 I'd like you to have more meat on your bones. I love you the way you are, and have no wish to have Twiggy for a wife."
Mom giggled and promised to eat better. However, her weight kept dropping, and one day she decided to check it out. After 2 weeks the diagnosis was clear: End stage ovarian cancer. She underwent every therapy known to men, including experimental drugs, but died 3 months later. Dad and I were devastated. He cried to me, "I was sure Mom would bury me and later find love in the arms of a young Latino lover..."
"Dad, she was a perfect wife and mother, but life goes on. I am sure she would have wanted you to remember her, yet continue living the good life."
For 10 days my father was inconsolable, but then he met his old friend Morris K. They were childhood friends and both became very successful entrepreneurs. Morris told Dad that it was time to work less, give to charities, and enjoy his riches. I was very busy on one of our projects, and visited Dad a month later. He behaved differently: He looked tan and... smiley.
I stared at him quizzically, and he said, "Morris pulled me into his inner circle. They have parties, using his yacht for trips along Florida's fantastic beaches, and having fun with alcohol, weed, and pretty women. Initially, I was skeptical, but after seeing it with my own eyes and trying it, I was captivated. All my life I worked hard and became a billionaire, but never had time to enjoy my money. If not now, when?"
"Dad, I am happy to know you found a way to enjoy life again, but you are 64 and I wish you'll take it easy."
"Son, Morris told me, 'George, I do not wish to add years to my life; I wish to add life to my years.' I agree wholeheartedly, and if god decides it is my time, I'll accept it."
We had good time together. He introduced me to Morris K., whom I heard about but never saw in person. I met him in his swimming pool, surrounded by 2 twenty-something girls: A blonde one and a black girl. He was smoking a Cuban Cohiba cigar, sipping expensive cognac, and telling dirty jokes. Dad and Morris got along very well, and soon, young chicks were looking for Dad's company as well. Except for Morris and Dad, nobody else knew me, and nobody approached me. I felt like a voyeur in a Playboy mansion. I was jealous...
...
Months went by. I continued investing the majority of my time at work. One day, I got a text from my father, 'Rob, we need to talk. Please call me at the earliest possible.'
I dreaded the worst and phoned him immediately. He sounded cheerful, "Son, I decided to marry again."
"WHAAAT?"
"Her name is Yolanda, but I call her Yoana. She is 25 years young and was Miss South Beach 7 months ago. I want you to meet her and give us your blessing."
"Dad, isn't 40 year difference too much? Are you sure she marries you for love? You might find out she is a gold digger."
"Rob, I wasn't born yesterday, and I took into account everything you are saying. Come here and we'll talk about it, but the bottom line is, I want you to be happy for me."
Two days later, I flew to Florida. Yoana and Dad met me at the airport. He looked good, but slightly older and with less hair than before. Yoana was absolutely gorgeous! Her figure was something else: She was busty with narrow waist and widening hips. A classic sexy girl one would drool over in porn magazines. Her long, blonde hair reached her back, and her blue eyes inspected me curiously. She extended her hand to me and mumbled, "Nice to meet you, Rob. I heard a lot about your excellent work."
I blushed, "Nice to meet you too. Dad was right. You are as beautiful a woman as I have ever seen."
"Thank you. Does it mean you approve of your Dad and my marriage?"
I blurted diplomatically, "It's my father's life, and whatever makes HIM happy, makes ME happy too."
Next, we went to a luxurious restaurant and had dinner together. At home, I usually ate simple food, so I savored the meal and watched the couple exchange lovey-dovey glances and hold hands. Everything suggested true love, yet the age difference bothered me. An hour later, Yoanna left us to meet some friends, and my father and I went to his home in Miami Beach.
I said, "Dad, I love you and I see you are very fond of Yoana. I agree that she looks amazing, but how do you know she marries you purely for love and not take advantage of your status and money?"
Fe laughed, "My life is short, and as I mentioned before, I wish to live my remaining years the best way possible. My lawyer and I prepared my will together. In short, if the wedding takes place, she would vow to have sex with me at least twice a week and never cheat on me until I die. If she is loyal until my death, she'll get half my wealth, and you get the other half. If there is proof she betrayed me with somebody, after my death, she'll get only $1000 per month, and you'll inherit the rest."
"How can you be certain she won't do it behind your back?"
He grinned, "Among my current employees I have a security group. I notified the boss that after the wedding, I wish to install video and audio devices in her car, her phone, in the house, and even on her jewelry. They'll replace batteries and check the data on a regular basis, and document everything relevant. I have no intention of finding out the results of their surveillance, and prefer to get the maximum from our life together. However, after my death, before reading the will with Yoana, you'll get all the information and see if there is any incriminating evidence. If there is, you show it to my lawyer, and he will continue accordingly."
I hoped my father made the right choice marrying Yoanna. Before the wedding day, I spent 3 days with them, and they seemed like any other loving couple I've seen before: Walking hand in hand, kissing frequently, and dancing exclusively with each other at a party. I tried to ask her for a dance, but she sweetly rejected the request, telling me she would dance only with Dad.
The wedding ceremony was a big deal. There were hundreds of guests, most of whom I hadn't seen before. I stayed away from the happy couple, letting them chat, dance, and take photos with everybody for posterity. I sat in one of the corners, unrecognizable, and munched on the delicious food. I also had one beer, but unlike a few others, I did not overdo it and did not get drunk. Everything ended around midnight. I helped Yoana and Dad place the presents in a large container, and noticed that most guests gave envelopes with checks rather than something more personal.
When the party was over, I stayed in one of the guestrooms and left early in the morning. Before leaving, I congratulated them, shook Dad's hand and kissed Yoana's cheek. She let me do it, but her facial expression was, how should I describe it, less than cheerful...
In the months that followed, on average once every 2 weeks I talked to Dad. He sounded happy, telling me about the trips they made, their adventures, and even that Yoana was great in bed. I had a sigh of relief; Apparently, Yoana took her devotion to Dad seriously and made his life pleasant.
About 2 years later, I was at work and got a phone call. The screen told me it was Dad. I said, "Dad, let me finish something and I'll call you back in 5."
Seven minutes later, I called his number. Yoana answered, "Sorry, Rob. Dad dialed your number by mistake. He didn't feel well, attempted to call his doctor, and misdialed you."
"May I talk to him? Does he wish me to come?"
She laughed, "Oh, don't worry. Everything is fine. You know, he is getting older, and occasionally he forgets things. It sounds like a viral infection. I gave him Tylenol and hot tea. He is now in bed, and I prefer that he sleep. After a good nap, he is usually at his best.
Three days later, I phoned Dad again. Yoana told me that he just left the house to stroll in the neighborhood. I asked her to tell him to call me when he returned. He never called back. The next morning I phoned one more time. When Yoana picked up the phone, I insisted on talking to Dad. She said, "Rob, he doesn't feel well and refuses to talk to anybody."
For me, it didn't sound like my Dad, and I blurted, "I am coming down there tomorrow." I hung up the phone, not waiting for her reaction.
I arrived at the house late afternoon. I rang the bell, and Yoana opened the door with her eyes red. "What's going on?" I asked.
"Overnight he deteriorated and vomited twice. I wanted to call an ambulance to take him to the hospital, but he refused. Now he seems unconscious, and I don't know what to do."
I went to his room, and realized Yoana was right. Dad seemed to be in a coma. I called 911, and an ambulance arrived within 10 minutes to take him to the hospital. I stayed with him during the initial tests. The doctor came to talk to me 3 hours later. His face was stern, "Sorry to tell you, but your father is in a critical state. Based on our tests, he is dehydrated, has sepsis, and has been for too many hours without proper treatment. Right now he shows multiple organ failure. We'll try our best, but his chances of survival are slim."
For almost 24 hours he was in a comatose state, and then he expired. Yoana was there with me when Dad died. She cried and looked very miserable. I felt sorry for her and attempted to hug her, but she pushed me away and took a taxi home.
...
The next morning, after freshening up, I went toward the kitchen. On the way, I passed by my father's room and saw Yoanna checking his drawers. I asked her what she was looking for, and she said, "Dad's will. I never had access to his account, and each week he gave me the money I needed for everything I asked. I thought of going shopping with my friend, and I have no money."
I was surprised, "Why is it so urgent? There is plenty of food in the fridge and on the shelves."
"My BFF told me she wanted me to accompany her to the mall."
"Yoana, Dad died barely 24 hours ago. Doesn't it mean anything to you?"
"Rob, when your father was alive, I was a very good and loyal wife. Now that he is no longer with us, what does it matter if I go outside the house or stay here and cry myself to sleep?"
I stared at her, "I thought both of you were so happy together, that you developed more feelings for him and would feel terrible for at least a couple of days..."
"Rob, please do not preach. It wasn't easy to be married to a much older man. I did the best I could, but in return, I got only money."
"And what did you think would happen when you married him? You were a trophy wife and knew it in advance."
"Never mind. Do you have $500 to spare?"
