The Wilkerson Institute

I fell asleep again and napped the rest of the trip. I didn't get nervous again until we were about to land, figuring Federal Marshals would take us off the plane in cuffs or such. But luck held, and the infamous air pirates got off the plane in one piece. Well, sort of. As we were walking off the plane, all the stewardesses asked if my wife's malaria was cured.

"Oh, yes!," bubbled Elyse. "And my husband is feeling much better, too!"

I grabbed her elbow and hustled her out, as she broke up in paroxysms of laughter, waving back at the hostesses. I resolved to fly a different airline in the future. Any different airline, down to and including Bobby Joe's Air Cargo and Catering!

We went down to baggage claim and collected our remaining luggage (Amazingly, it was actually there.) and a Red Cap and headed out to Valet Parking. Elyse looked around in amazement at JFK, taking in the sights of one of the larger airports in the country. I recalled that she had never been to New York before. I turned my claim check over to a valet, and about five minutes later my car was brought around. I tipped him and the porter and we loaded our bags in the trunk. I pulled out a small gym bag from the trunk. I let Elyse in and closed her door, then got in behind the wheel. I handed her the bag and said, "Hold this a moment."

"What's in it?," she asked.

"Show you in a moment." I pulled out into traffic. A couple of minutes later, I looked around carefully and pulled off onto the shoulder of the exit road.

"What's up?," asked Elyse.

I didn't answer right away. Instead I unbuckled my seat belt and leaned forward, taking off my leather jacket. I handed this to her and took the bag back. I unzipped it and took out a holstered gun. I put the shoulder holster on and adjusted the fit, then threw the bag in the back. She stared wide-eyed as I retrieved my jacket and put it back on. Her eyes opened even wider, and her jaw dropped open, when I pulled the gun out. I inspected it briefly, popped the clip, worked the action, checked the safety, and put the clip back. Satisfied it was in the same condition I had left it in, I reholstered it and adjusted my jacket.

"Robert? Why do you have a gun, Robert? What's going on?" She was looking at me like she was meeting a Martian for the first time, and discovered she didn't like Martians.

I looked in the rearview mirrors and pulled back on the road before I answered. Then I turned back to her briefly, and said, "Security."

"What?..."

"Security. Listen, I'm a rich man, and there's a lot of crazies out there who'd just love to kidnap me or kill me or rob me. Whatever. So I have to take precautions. You will, too."

"I will not carry a gun. I don't like guns and I simply refuse to carry a gun," said Elyse in a tone that brooked no opposition.

"You weren't being offered one."

"And I don't want you to have one, either."

She might as well learn the facts of life now. "Tough. You lose. I ain't stopping now. And this ain't the only one I own, either."

Elyse sat back to study the Martian. "I don't understand. Why do you need to own and carry guns?"

"I told you, security. Every year executives and businessmen are kidnapped. Some get released or rescued, but most, the vast majority, end up dead in a ditch. That ain't going to happen to me. Or you. You'll have to learn to think about security, too," I finished.

"Like how?," asked Elyse.

"Well, for instance, this car. I can afford a Caddy or a Lincoln or a Mercedes. Instead I drive an Oldsmobile. No vanity plates. Bulletproof glass. The doors are always locked, even when moving. The co-op is a secure building, and I installed a separate system for my place. I never travel to unsafe places, so Beirut is out for vacation trips. And my firm has substantial resources in place as well."

"So why the gun?"

"Because I don't want drivers and bodyguards. So I guard myself."

"Wow! It sounds like living in a prison."

I just laughed. "Not at all, not at all! Just being careful. You know my best protection? I look like a normal guy. Nobody knows who I am. I make sure of it. No interviews or pictures, no fancy parties or jetsetting around. Just another guy tooling around town on the subway. I just blend in. But I keep a real close eye out and watch what's going on. Don't worry. It's not hard, and I'll teach you what you need to know."

Elyse was quiet for several minutes, digesting this. "Robert, have you ever been..."

"What? Kidnapped? Nope. I was mugged once, years and years ago, before I got to be a bigshot."

"What did your ex-wives think about all this?"

"Janie and I broke up before my firm really got off the ground. Now, Tanya, she was a problem, she wanted to be conspicuous. Part of why we broke up, I suppose. I needed a driver by then, and he was one of the guys she was balling. So now I have neither Tanya or a driver." I grinned over at her.

Elyse had to laugh at this, and slowly she came back out of her shell. I probably should have warned her, but it never occurred to me it would be a problem. I've been living like this so long now it's like second nature to me. Oh, well, live and learn.

After a few moments, she asked, "Don't you need a license for that thing?"

"Yeah. I have to register it with the police, and you need a special 'carry permit' to walk around with it. Now that was pretty tough to get, let me tell you. But any idiot can own a long gun, you know, a rifle or shotgun, as long as they aren't a convicted felon. And even then, they can buy one, just illegally. I have my suits cut for them."

"I wondered why your jackets seemed a little baggy."

"If they aren't tailored right, you end up looking like you're carrying a piece, which kind of defeats the purpose," I remarked.

"So what other guns do you own?," she asked.

"I picked up an M-16 a few years ago, actually a retooled AR-15. That's sort of semi-legal, it's not supposed to be capable of full auto fire. An M-1 Garand, match quality. Uh, a Springfield, again match quality, and a trench shotgun. Another Colt 45 like this one, and a new Berretta nine millimeter. Oh, and I got this gorgeous Kentucky long rifle, you know, black powder type."

"What in the world do you need so many guns for?," she persisted.

"I like guns, always have. My old man used to take me hunting every fall. I still manage to get a deer and a bear every season," I answered. "Hobby, I guess. I sort of specialize in U.S. military guns. I hunt with the Garand."

"You kill innocent deer? You're heartless!," she cried.

I just laughed. "So I won't invite you along. And you don't have to eat my venison and bear steaks. I always eat what I kill." Elyse dropped the subject.

I pointed out the sights as we drove into the city. The final view I showed her was Central Park as I stopped by the curb along the East Side of the park. "Out!," I announced.

"Here? In the park?"

"No, here at my place. We're home." She looked startled and looked out her window, up at the high rise we were in front of. A short, stooped, old black man shuffled out the door to her door and opened it for her. He wore a red and black coat with more braid than an Italian general.

"Missy? How do you do? Welcome back Missuh DeFrame. Your trip good?...Fine, fine."

"Good afternoon to you to, Jesse. Anything happen while I was gone?," I said smiling. I joined him by the trunk.

"No suh, nuffin' 'tall. Here, let me get those." Jesse grabbed a pair of my bags and shuffled off towards the door.

Elyse skipped on ahead of him. "Let me get that," she said, grabbing for the door handle.

"No, Missy, old Jesse can still get the doors around here. Now don't you be worryin' your pretty head now."

I laughed out loud and closed my trunk. Picking up our remaining bags from where I had set them, I followed Elyse to the door. "You old fraud! Elyse, don't pay any attention to this routine of Jesse's, he's in better shape than the two of us combined." Turning to the two of them, I introduced the pair. "Elyse, this is Jesse Washington. Jesse runs this place. Forget the management company, Jesse's the boss. He's related to half the staff around here, at least. Jesse, this is Elyse Miller. She's going to be staying with me. She's to be allowed to come and go as she pleases. Let the other guys know."

"Sho' 'nuff, Missuh DeFrame. Nice to meet you Miss Elyse, real nice. Missuh deFrame here, he be needin' somebody like you to take care of him. You be needin' anythin', you be lettin' ole Jesse know, you hear."

Elyse nodded and thanked him profusely, tucking an arm through one of mine. After we had dropped our bags at the elevator, I reached in my pocket and handed my car keys to Jesse. He just waved a tired looking arm at the desk and a young black kid came around. "Park this downstairs. And don't you scratch it now, or I'll whup you upside your head, you hear?" The dragooned driver nodded his head in understanding and took off.

"A nephew?," I asked.

"Sho. They all related to me. Just some of they daddys don't know," answered Jesse. Elyse and I laughed at this one and waved to Jesse as the doors of the elevator closed between us.

As we rode up, I told Elyse, "Forget the Amos and Andy routine you just saw. Jesse's got this place so wired it'd fall apart without him. I pay him an extra hundred a month just to keep an extra eye out for me."

"No! You don't!"

"Yeah, I do. Believe me, I'd rather he was on my side than against me. Once this couple moved in and didn't like the idea of a 'nigger' at the door. They tried to make trouble for him. Within six months Jesse had so many people up in arms the couple moved out, begging to break their contract. Make friends with him, for my sake at least. I'd hate to have to move," I told her, laughing.

The elevator stopped at our floor and we got out. Walking down the hall, Elyse asked, "You said you owned a place here, but this is an apartment, isn't it?"

I began to unlock the door. "Yes and no. It's a cooperative. I own my apartment, but still have to pay a monthly charge for heat and water and whatnot. Don't worry about it. It's not like I got a landlord on my ass. Just Jesse." I ushered Elyse inside and tossed the bags after her. Elyse simply stood there and looked around, oohing and ahhing.

I took off my jacket and my holster, tossing it onto a couch. "Come on, nickel tour time," I said, taking her hand. My rooms are actually the size of a fair sized house, occupying two floors on the side of the building facing the park. Downstairs are the public rooms, the living room, the kitchen, the dining room, my den and my study. Upstairs, reached by a spiral staircase in the living room, are two bedrooms and a bath, as well as my master bedroom and bath.

As we walked down the hallway, I told her my plans. "Now this is your room," I told her, showing the bedroom next to mine. You can do whatever you want in here. I figure on putting in a doorway between it and my room, here." I led her into my room, as large as the other two combined. "I'd like you to stay in here with me."

Elyse wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. "You don't have to ask," she said. I wrapped my arms around her and hugged back. Her perfume was doing wonders for me. I leaned down and began to nuzzle her neck, as my hands roamed across her back and buttocks. Elyse began to respond.

Then she pushed me back and began to undo her jacket. "Get undressed," she said. "I want you, now."

I grinned and literally tore my clothes off. Elyse beat me though, stripping off her jacket, blouse, skirt, and bra. She lay back on our bed and drew her knees up to her chest and spread them wide. "Come on, hurry up. I want you to fuck me, hard and fast."

As soon as my pants were below knee level, I knelt on the bed between her legs. I wanted to fuck her, too, and told her so. I tucked my arms under her legs and spread them farther apart, then plugged in for our first ride here in my home.

Epilogue

So we settled in together. For a while, it was like I had never come back from Cancun. For the first few weeks, Elyse tended to greet me at the door in high heels, stockings, and a smile, but eventually this settled down, too. The first Saturday we were back, Elyse actually got fully clothed (Well, no underwear, but only we knew that!), and I took her to Bloomie's for a shopping spree.

Unfortunately for Elyse, shopping for women's clothing with a woman ranks right up there with root canal work as far as I'm concerned. She could have spent the next week in there, but I dragged her out after only a few hours. I did set up an expense account for her, so I wouldn't be subjected to that again. She pouted the entire trip home, telling me repeatedly she hadn't gotten all the stuff she ABSOLUTELY needed.

I was highly relieved when Jesse informed us that two large boxes had arrived for Miss Elyse while we were out. "My stuff!," she cried out, thrusting the bags she was carrying at me. "It came! Where is it? Where?"

Jesse helped me with the bags and boxes up to our door, then tipped his hat and shuffled back to the elevator. What a con man! I worked it out once. If only half the tenants were paying him off like me, and if he was getting any kind of kickbacks at all from suppliers, even if he only earned minimum wage he'd be well off. Very!

The new clothes were dumped unceremoniously in Elyse's bedroom, then she returned to the two boxes. Not waiting for me to open them neatly, she ripped the lids open. I peered in. Thrown in haphazardly were an olio of feminine items and knick-knacks. A music box, several CDs, a few group pictures (No patrons, thank goodness!), a couple of pairs of high heels (One pair split between the two boxes.), a rather scandalous nightie, some lace stockings. All sorts of odds and ends of female post-adolescence. She shrieked in delight as she pulled them from the boxes.

But I had also noticed a few other items, including two vibrators, one of a rather immense construction, and a pair of handcuffs. An idea began to form in my head, and I noticed my cock had sprung to life. Taking the lace stockings in my hands, I unfolded them and looked them over.

"Like 'em?," asked Elyse.

"Yeah, I do," I told her. "I don't think I've seen you in lace stockings before."

"Maybe I'll model them for you sometime," she said.

"Okay. Get undressed," I told her.

"What? Right now?"

"Sure, why not?"

Elyse shrugged her shoulders. "Well, okay. If you want."

"I do, I do," I assured her.

Elyse kicked her pumps off and pulled her skirt up her thighs. Part of my plan was factored on the fact that she had changed clothes at the store into a long halter-topped sundress. She unclipped the garters and peeled off the plain but sheer stockings she was wearing. Holding the lace pair up, she examined their length and elasticized tops. "Won't need the garter belt," she announced, and put her hands under the skirt and behind her back. This came off too. Then she slipped on the lace stockings. Standing, she smoothed them on her legs. Holding her dress up to her thighs, she asked, "Well? How do they look?"

"Great!" And they did, too. Long and black and very sexy. "Here, put these on," I said, handing her a pair of black ankle strapped stiletto heeled shoes I took from one of the boxes.

Elyse sat back down on the couch. She put the shoes on and strapped them around her slim ankles. Then she stood and faced me again. Pulling the hem well above her knees she commented, "They really don't go with the outfit."

"That's all right. Turn around. Let's see how they look from behind."

Elyse turned away from me and let the dress slip from her fingers. Moving her hands behind her, she grabbed the fabric behind her and began to pull it upwards, balling it in her fists. As it rose above knee level, she called out, "Say 'When'!"

I let her continue until the hem of her dress was almost at the tops of the stockings, which were very close to the tops of her thighs. "When! Now just stand there a moment." I gazed contentedly for several moments.

After about a minute, Elyse looked back over her shoulder. "Well? Can I put my dress down now and change again?"

"Not just yet, my dear. Just stand there like that a few moments more."

Elyse shrugged again, or at least as much as she could in that position and faced forwards again, and I went into action. Reaching into the box at my side, I pulled out the handcuffs. With one cuff in each hand I thrust my arms up and out and snapped them around her wrists, behind her back.

"Robert!," screamed Elyse, whirling to face me. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, just experimenting," I said, rising to face her. Gently taking her by the shoulders, I pulled the helpless girl towards me. I thrust my lips onto hers and began devouring her lips with my kisses, as my hands roamed over her naked back. She tried to resist briefly, but in short order was moaning and thrusting her tongue back against mine. Then, holding her tightly, I moved a hand down to the zipper behind her and pulled it down. Then as I moved back and away, I reached up and undid the slipknot holding the halter up. A curious mix of rage and glee suffused her face as the dress slid floorwards, the halter straps trailing off her shoulders and down her heaving breasts.

"And just what does this experiment involve?," she asked stepping out of the crumpled outfit at her feet, moving closer to me.

I never did explain. I just sat down in my armchair and pulled her onto my lap. Only now, as I returned to kissing her, my hands were roaming her front, cupping her full tits, pulling and pinching her extended nipples, and thrusting madly into her hot and juicy box. I took her through three fierce and extended orgasms sitting thus, muting her orgasmic cries with my lips. Finally I lifted her sweat soaked form off of me long enough to pull my pants down, them lowered her, facing away from me so she straddled my legs, onto my straining member, impaling her on it's turgidness. God, was she hot and tight! I pushed her forward so that she was bent over my knees and put my hands on her ass cheeks. Spreading them wide, I wetted my thumbs with the pussy juices freely flowing around my cock and stuck them both up her asshole. She went wild, squirming and twitching in her pleasure, her screams of joy no longer silenced. I didn't last long, spewing upwards into her grasping twat after only about five minutes.

I kept her handcuffed the rest of the day and all day Sunday, dressed only in stockings and heels. I took her repeatedly, sometimes bending her over a chair as she passed, sometimes just walking up to her, unzipping, and pushing her to her knees. After dinner that night, I took the two vibrating dildos and stuffed them inside her, the smaller of the pair up her ass. Then I walked away and left her thrashing on the floor.

I don't think she minded though. Being left helpless like this, I was forced to help her with everything except wiping her ass. I had to feed her by hand sitting in my lap, get her drinks and snacks, dress her in new stockings and shoes the next morning, even shower with her and wash her pretty tits and pussy off. Even Elyse commented how well I was pampering her, and that we'd have to experiment some more in the future.

I moved my den into the study, and converted the den into an exercise room. Nautilus and aerobics mat, but no sauna or Jacuzzi. I'm not that crazy! And about two weeks after we were home, I called in a contractor. I had a door put in between our two bedrooms, and redid my bath to allow an entranceway into each bedroom. But I think the biggest impression I made on Elyse was the final act. While she was out shopping, I had a locksmith come in and put locks on both doors to her bedroom, keyside in. Then when she came home, I gave her the keys. She was literally speechless. She just started crying and hugging me and kissing me, and then when I tried to calm her, she grabbed me by the belt and dragged me into her room. She damn near ripped my pants off me, and thanked me the best possible way, repeatedly.