Fifty Shades of Silver Hair and Socks - Chapter 14

My mother staggers and nearly faints at Bea's revelation. I would catch her, but I'm stunned as well.

"What a wonderful surprise!"
"Isn't it?" Bea concurs as she gives my mother a hug. I scratch my head.
"Let me see the ring," my mother begs.
"Oh, we haven't picked one out yet."
"Perfect. Have you decided on a date?"
"No, Mother, I just proposed last week."
"Well, come on in you two. You must be starved. Neal, your brother has some fantastic news."

My brother emerges from the family room shakes my hand and gives me the "bro" hug.

"Neal, this is my ... eh, hem ... fiancée, Beatrice Plastique."
"You sly devil you. I've never known you to be able to keep a secret."
"Right, that's your thing, bro."

Neal goes to shake Bea's hand, but she stops him.

"We're practically family now. Families hug."

Neal hugs her and gives me the silent "not bad" look with his lips. I shrug.

"So, Bea, how did the old man manage to snag such a young beauty?"
"Oh, your brother is quite charming."
"It doesn't bother you that he's eighty?"
"Nice, dickhead."
"Language!" my mother yells from the kitchen as she unwraps enough food for an army.
"Have you ever been to San Diego, Neal?"
"Can't say that I have."
"Well, the boys out that way have priorities that begin with surfing and skateboarding and end with drinking microbrews and eating cheap Mexican food."
"Surely, they'd make room for loveliness such as yourself."
"They have little space, considering all the roommates and sloppy pickup trucks. Your brother is sophisticated, mature, and he doesn't play games ... much."
*cough*

We chat around the table for an hour or so while nibbling. Bea fits here too. What should I do? Mom says she has my childhood room upstairs all set for us.

"Honey, why don't we unpack and take a little nap. Flights always wear me out," Bea suggests.
"Good idea," my mother agrees, "you two rest up and we'll have a nice dinner around seven."

I open the upstairs door for Bea and grab the suitcases. She wiggles up the steps, slowly, teasing me. I lean forward and bite her ass. She shrieks and giggles.

"So, this is the room you grew up in?"
"Indeed. Had my first orgasm right there on that bed."
"Ah. Who, pray tell, was the lucky girl?"
"She's right here, actually. Let me introduce you, wife-to-be."

I spank her.

"Ha, ha, Rosy Palmer--a woman's biggest rival."
"Yep."
"So, you've never had a woman in your childhood bed?"
"Nope. Fantasized about it a lot."
"Mm, let's change that right now," she insists as we undress in seconds and go at it like teens.

It seems so naughty with my family downstairs. That's the brand of danger and excitement she has brought into my life. I'm growing addicted to it ... to her. Surely, she's playing games with me about the engagement, but a lifetime with my kinky Lovergirl might not be so bad.

(sometimes control is best relinquished)

Fifty Shades of Silver Hair and Socks - Chapter 13

Great conversation with "The Hammer" made the flight go quickly. My disappointment about not having my love with me returned when we landed. When I came through the jetway, there was a man waiting with a sign reading "Mr. Silver." Really? A limo, perhaps? I approached him.

"Are you here for Mormon Silver?"
"Indeed. Come with me, Sir. May I take your bag?"
"All right."

That saves me a car rental, I guess. When we exit the airport, his limousine is parked at the curb. The driver hits the remote, opens the trunk, stows my carry-on, comes to the side, and opens the rear door for me. I could get used to this lifestyle.

I duck and step in. There she is.

"Hello, Uncle M."
"What? How did you beat me here?"
"Is that excitement or disappointment I detect in your tone?"
"Oh, definitely excitement." I give Bea quite a squeeze. She fits so nicely. "Before I forget, thank you for the upgrade and it was amazing meeting my idol."
"Who?"
"Don't play coy with me, Lovergirl."
"Honestly. I have no idea whom you're referring to."
"Dave Shultz?"
Nothing.
"Flyers? Broad Street Bullies? Enforcer?"
"I know who he is. Was he on the flight?"
"In the seat next to me. He shared some amazing stories."
"How serendipitous."
"And, now you're here ... with me."
"I am."

The driver pulls away and Bea reaches across my lap to press a button on the console raising the window between us and the driver. Her scent drives me wild and her positioning gives me the urge to spank her. So, I do.

"Ow!" she exclaims as she looks back at me mischievously.
"You've been naughty; you deserve a spanking."
"I do."

I lift her skirt and peel down her undies.

"He can't see, can he?"
"No, silly. And, I really don't care if he can."

A few tiny spanks and she arches into me. I caress the area after each strike, work my way to the middle, and slide in a finger. She's so wet already. Can I fuck her here? I so want to.

"Take me, Uncle M," she begs as she starts unbuckling my belt. It's a ninety minute ride to the house I was raised in, and we use most of the time pleasing each other. As we regain our composure in the last ten miles, Bea can't escape, so I ask her.

"Bea, tell me something about you. I'm honestly crazy about you and I know almost nothing, other than you're a gorgeous billionaire hockey fan."
"Thank you. Actually, I'm not a billionaire, my love. A few years ago, maybe. No longer. The markets turned and I'm on the brink of bankruptcy."
"I'm sorry."
"Have I scared you away?"
"Bea, nothing you can say would scare me. I've fallen for you. Can't you tell?"
"I've fallen for you too. Are you OK with this?"
"You being here? Are you kidding? Hell yes!"
"OK, now you tell me something: What is your ultimate fantasy?"
"I'm sure it's not nearly as exciting as yours, but I've always dreamed of pitching for the Padres."
"Cute."
"Seriously. I guess it's something women can't relate to."
"It can happen, you know."
"Not in this lifetime, my dear. Your turn: What's your ultimate fantasy?"
"It's boringly typical, actually: A sunset beach wedding with the man I adore."
"Aw. I expected something darker from you."
"See? There are many shades of me--some light and delicate. I am a lady, after all."

The limo pulls up to the house where I was raised. My mother is waiting at the front door with a big smile. Arm-in-arm we walk up the steps. I give my mother a hug and kiss on the cheek, then introduce her.

"Mom, this is my ..."
"... fiancée," Bea interrupts.

(uh oh)

Fifty Shades of Silver Hair and Socks - Chapter 12

She tortured me with radio silence the rest of the day. Is a genuine relationship possible, or will this be fun and games until we run out of ideas? Guess I'll enjoy the ride while it lasts.

I'm up before dawn and waiting in line at the US Airways ticket counter. My texts to Bea went unanswered, still I scan the area for her--wondering and hoping. When I hand my license across the counter, I have a pleasant surprise.

"Hello, Mr. Silver. Will you be checking any bags?"
"No, I'll carry this. It's a short trip."
"I see here that you've been upgraded to First Class."
"Huh?"

That's wonderful, but there's still no sign of Bea. I wait at the gate, browsing my Kindle, peeking over my reading glasses every few minutes. Nothing.

They call First Class to board. I try calling Bea. No answer. I try calling Eric. No answer. I hand my boarding pass, walk the jet bridge, enter, and find seat 2A. I place my carry-on overhead and relax into my seat. Where is she? She must be 2B.

I check my cell again. Nothing. Suddenly, a FaceTime request comes through. I answer and see Lovergirl's smiling face. She's in the jet's restroom, wearing a red wig, dressed like a flight attendant.

"Hello, Uncle M."
"Bea, what's going on?"
"I always wanted to do it on a plane. Are you game, Uncle M, or are you already a mile-high member?"
"Technically, this would be only around twenty feet but, where do I apply?"
"Walk to the rear of the plane. I'm in the restroom on the right. Tap twice and I'll let you in, lover."

Like an anxious teen at his prom, I stride back with an uncomfortable lump in my jeans. I arrive and tap. The door unlocks and opens.

Sex in a jet bathroom is anything but easy. We giggled like mischievous children as we contorted our bodies to find a comfortable angle. I banged my funny bone on the faucet. She accidentally pressed "Flush." Yet, we managed to make love.

We finished quickly before the plane began filling up. Bea suggested she leave first and wait for me at our seats, as to not raise suspicion. I agreed and cleaned up after she left. I stared at myself for a moment in the mirror, wondering how I'd explain our relationship to my family. My face showed beaded perspiration, lip gloss glitter, and an unfamiliar blissful smile. Bea is holding my heart now. I shrug and head back to our seats, annoying the travelers by going against the grain.

When I get back to First Class, there's a man sitting in 2B. I check above the seat to make sure I have the right row.

"I'm sorry, sir. You must be in the wrong seat."
"No, actually I'm in two B," he said as he showed me his boarding pass. He looked familiar to me.
"I'm in two A and my, um, girlfriend is sitting there."
"Sorry, buddy," he tells me as he rises to let me in.

Did she do it to me again? I flop down into my seat and check around. No sign of her.

"You OK?" my row mate asks.
"I guess so."
"Want a drink? I know I could use one."

He waves to get the attendant's attention. I notice a huge ring on his right hand and it hits me.

"Holy shit! You're Dave Fucking Shultz."
"Dave William Shultz, actually, but you can call me 'The Hammer.'"

I shake the hand of one of my heroes, a Philadelphia Flyers legend, and wonder how much of this she has orchestrated.

(my love is taking me higher)

Fifty Shades of Silver Hair and Socks - Chapter 11

It's not my first choice for places to get it on, but definitely a first for me. My friend pokes her head in the bathroom door.

"Yo, Boss, you best be finishing up. Bogeys are closing."
"Bogeys?"
"Cops."
Shit.

Bea plants a deep kiss on me, jumps off, lifts her panties, and leaves the stall. My legs are half asleep and my ass is killing me. She insisted we do it with the toilet seat up to teach me about manners since I left the seat up at the Hyatt.

"Goodbye, my love. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Wait ... hold on," I demand as I struggle to my feet and stamp my foot, trying to get the blood circulating again.
"Ciao."
"Bea, I'm flying east tomorrow. Bea?"

It's no use; she's gone again.

I check myself in the mirror and splash water on my face. Ladies rooms are gross. Women can be such slobs. I wash my hands and open the door with the hand towel. Outside the bathroom are two police officers and an elderly woman. Yep, I'm fucked.

"That's him officer. I saw him give money to what I assume was a pimp and then he went in there and had sex with that woman who just walked out. I could hear them. It was gross."
"What do you have to say for yourself?"
"Officers, I can see how this strange situation could be misunderstood," I dance with lies while Bea walks away smiling. She waves and winks. Got me again. "I actually saved that woman's life."
"Really."
"Oh, yes. You see, I was just passing by when another woman came out and asked for help because somebody was in the bathroom ... um ... choking."
"Choking? On what?"
"His penis, I bet," the old woman interjected. We all stared at her incredulously. "Just sayin'."
"An Altoid, actually. I ran in, performed a Heimlich maneuver, and saved her life. You're welcome."
"Look, sir, I don't know what kind of sick bastard you are, but you need to leave this courthouse immediately."
"What? You're not going to let him go, are you?"
"Thank you, Officer. Good day."
"He ... but ... he's a pervert. Lock him up!"

I made haste. That could have gone much worse. What did Bea mean about seeing me tomorrow? She can't be seriously considering coming east with me, can she? I can't introduce her to my family. God, she's so fucking amazing, though. I can't believe I'm falling for her, even after all she puts me through. Bathroom stall or not, her kisses have changed. I think she's falling for me too. We share something more substantial with every tryst. I'm losing control ... and I love it.

(I'm lost in a daze.)

Fifty Shades of Silver Hair and Socks - Chapter 10

Lovergirl won't answer my texts, so I call Eric.

"Dude, what's up with your crazy boss?"
"What do you mean?"
"She's ignoring me."
"Actually, she just has a full schedule this morning. I'm glad you called, though."
"Why is that?"
"She asked me to set up a lunch appointment today between you two."
"When and where?"
"The Courthouse Cafe at noon."
"All the restaurants in town and she wants to eat at the fucking courthouse?"
"Yep."
"Fine. I'll be there."
"Oh, and can I ask you a question, Mr. Silver?"
"You just did."
"Clever. No, really."
"Shoot."
"Why did your parents name you Mormon?"
"They didn't. It's a nickname, Eric."
"Cute."
"I was a chubby kid. Whenever mother made my dinner plate I'd say, 'More, Mom.'"
"Aw. So what's your real name?"
"Jew."
"What?!"
"It's short for Jude."
"Oh, thank God ... or whomever."
"Tell Bea I'll see her at noon."
"I will. She asks that you bring the signed document."
"We'll see."

I tie up some loose ends around my house and pack for tomorrow's trip back east. I wonder what was captured by that camera and what it will cost to get it from her. I can't stand being at a disadvantage. Right now, she owns me.

Still confused about her choice of lunch venues, I park at the courthouse and enter through security. It's as one would expect: police, lawyers, and criminals. I find the cafe and scan the area for Bea. No luck. It's five after noon. Have I missed her? I grab a cup of (awful) coffee, pick a table for two, pull out my phone, and wait. The text rings in.

Bea Plastique: Dearest, Uncle M: It seems I've been assessed a five-minute major for fighting. I'm stuck in a penalty stall. Please rescue me.

Oh, Jesus. The games never cease with this woman. Penalty stall? What the hell is she referring to? It's a penalty box, not a stall. Oh, shit. She's in a bathroom stall! No doubt she's picked a ladies room stall to make my hunt more difficult.

Mormon Silver: Bea, stop playing games. Where are you?
Bea Plastique: 4:30 remaining.
Mormon Silver: There must be four bathrooms on this floor alone. Where are you?!
Bea Plastique: 4:15 remaining.

I can't let her beat me. The clerk behind the counter points me to the closest restroom. There are police everywhere. I can't walk in or I'll be fucked. In fact, I'll be fucked either way, but I prefer the kind that doesn't involve a TASER. I need to find an accomplice. There's a Latina woman sitting outside a courtroom--obviously a call girl. I approach her.

"Hi."
"Hi, yourself, handsome."
"Are you busy right now?"
Bea Plastique: 3 minutes.
Fuck.
"Court is in recess until twelve thirty."
"Perfect. How'd you like to earn twenty dollars?"
"Man, you are brave, soliciting a woman in a damn courthouse."
"No, no, not for that. I just need your help. I'm looking for someone and I think she's hiding in a restroom."
"Kinky."
"Forty dollars?"
"Make it fifty."
"Let's go."

I show her a picture of Bea on my phone as we jog to the first bank of restrooms. She darts in and checks. 

Bea Plastique: 2 minutes.

"Nothing?"
"Nope. I am getting some dirty looks from people when I look under the stall doors. I may need another twenty." 

Bea Plastique: 1 minute.

We head down another corridor past angry couples obviously there for divorce hearings. My new friend enters. I hear voices, then she reappears.

"Yep, she's in there. Center stall."

I attempt to enter. She stops me.

"What are you doing? You can't go in with other people in there." 

Bea Plastique: 30 seconds ... :(

"Damn it! Look, here's another fifty if you go in and get everyone to leave."

My friend takes the fifty, goes in, and starts yelling like a crazy person. Women come streaming out. 

Bea Plastique: 10 seconds ... >:(

Finally, the coast is clear. I sprint into the bathroom and throw open the center stall door. There's Lovergirl, sitting on the john, phone in hand, skirt up, panties down.

"Hello, Uncle M."

(if the stall is shaking, it's love we're making)

Fifty Shades of Silver Hair and Socks - Chapter 9

I'm walking through a field of marijuana plants. The scent is overpowering and delicious. Suddenly, I feel a sting on my left arm. A psychedelic bee licks his lips, winks, and flies away. I fall and lie in a clearing, staring at the clouds as they take various forms.

*Tap, Tap, Tap*

What is that noise? I try to sit up but I'm weak. I tilt my head forward and see a door in the middle of the field.

*Tap, Tap, Tap*
"Hello?"

I squeeze my eyes tight, trying to rub them clear. I realize my arms are bound. A room comes into focus.

"Housekeeping."

The door opens. Two maids stand in the doorway of the master suite, eyes wide and giggling. I'm bound to the bed, naked except for ... oh, no ... underwear--Bea's Montreal Canadiens underwear.

"I'm sorry, sir, would you like us to come back later?"
"No, actually I'd like you to untie me."
"Is someone else here?" one of the maids asks as she approaches me cautiously. She looks into the closet as the door is ajar. I see the tripod with one missing camera. Fuck! The camera! How could I have forgotten?
"Nobody is here. Please untie me and stop looking at my package. I'm not a damn Canadiens fan."
"If you say so."
"Flyers rule."
"Who?"
"Never mind. Just untie me."

They each untie my arms. I sit up and undo my feet.

"Thank you, ladies. Perhaps you could come back in an hour or so."
"Of course," they respond. I hear them chatting and giggling as they leave the suite. Bea will pay for this.

As I run my tongue under a fat lip I realize my left shoulder is sore too. The bee sting. She must have drugged me. On the bedside table I find my love glove. It has been posed with the fingers curled in, except the middle one. Cute. There's something in the palm. I open the fingers and find a $25 Amazon gift card. Well, at least she doesn't welch on her bets. Under the glove is my copy of Bea's Rules with a "sign here" sticky note pointing to the line above my name.

Thankfully, my clothes are here, folded neatly. I quickly remove her panties, toss them, get dressed, and go down to the lobby in search of a large espresso to clear my head. The kind barista brews a strong triple and offers an apple fritter. I grab a Union Tribune, sit, and plot my revenge. Suddenly, I hear the patrons seated behind me giggling. They're reacting to odd noises coming from the TV. Holy shit! I'm on TV, and I'm not doing the news--I am the news.

I leap to my feet, stand on a chair, and power off the TV before somebody recognizes the embarrassing shot of me tied to a bed in panties. Fuck.

My phone rings. It's my mother.

"Hi, Ma."
"Hey there stranger. How have you been?"
"Fine. You?"
"Just getting the guestroom ready."
"Ma, that was supposed to be a surprise. Did Neal tell you?"
"You know your brother can't keep his yap shut. I'm so excited. What a nice Mother's Day gift. You'll be happy to hear there's no rain in the forecast."
"That's nice. I sure need a vacation. I've had a rough night."
"Did it by chance involve the future mother of my grandchildren?"
"Not likely."
"Really?"
"Ma, I have to run. Let me call you back later today."
"Okey dokey. Say, will your lady guest be sharing the room with you?"
"What lady guest?"
"Bea."
"What?! How on earth do you know Bea?" Lovergirl is completely under my skin now.
"She sent me a lovely package with my favorite gourmet teas and a kind note saying she was eager to meet me."
"No, Mother, she won't be staying with me."
"Why not?"
"It's complicated. I gotta go, Mom."
"If you want to talk about it ..."
"Not now, Mom. I'll call you later. Love you."
"Love you back."
"Bye."

Advantage Lovergirl. Not for long.

(Silver is now a man on a mission.)

Fifty Shades of Silver Hair and Socks - Chapter 8

When I see my love she's struggling to free her hands. I wink and point at her with a gloved finger. She lies back, exhausted. I walk past her bed into the bathroom.

"What are you doing, Silver?"
"Uncle M."
"Untie me."
"Nope."

I lift the toilet seat like a gentleman and relieve myself.

"Are you peeing?"
"Yeppers. I was trying to hold it because, you know, once you break the seal ..."
"And, I can't believe you brought a gun here."
"I didn't."
"You threatened Eric."
"Truth be told, your kind Uncle M simply bribed him with a movie print."
"Ugh, The Wizard of Oz, no doubt."
"Very perceptive, Lovergirl. You see? I do my homework too."

I shake twice and dab the tip with a sheet of TP. Bea has somehow managed to free her right arm. Her wrist is chafed. Serves her right.

"Where do you think you're going?"
"You didn't flush, you pig."
"The Rules clearly require me to give samples. I'm one-fourth of the way there. Help yourself when I leave."
"Gross."
"Hmm, now, what other samples are required? That's right, saliva."

I crawl up from the foot of the bed, reach under her right thigh with my gloved left hand, and gently tug at the top of her glistening cock holster with my index and middle finger vibrating as they straddle her clit. I dive in tongue first as she grabs my hair and steers with her free hand. In mere minutes she arches into orgasmic bliss.

"That's one orgasm and two fluids. I'm almost there."
"Almost where, Uncle M?" Bea asks as she relaxes in the afterglow.
"I have one very hungry Kindle, my love. That Amazon gift certificate is two orgasms from being mine. There's a new erotic series I'm dying to read."
"Now, for that third fluid."

I reach into my satchel, pull out a silver condom, unroll it down my average-sized penis, kneel in front of her, and slide myself in only a tiny bit.

"Shall we play 'Just the Tip,' Lovergirl?"
"No, Uncle M, I need you to fill me," she begs as she grabs my hip, trying to pull me in.
"Answer one question and I'll give you all my lovin'."
"Fine."
"What's the story with your Uncle Tomas?"
"Oh, Jesus. I'm going to kill Eric."
"Tell me," I order as I withdraw a bit.
"You might not like it, Uncle M."
"Tell me."
"OK. He took my virginity."

I withdraw entirely and try to process what I just heard. Kind of creepy; kind of gross; kind of hot, actually.

"That sick bastard! I hope that fucker is in jail."
"Mmm, stop swearing and do me!"
"How old were you?"
"Eighteen and, actually, we were in love. He's not a blood relative, Silver."
"It's still twisted."
"Yet you seem hard as a rock."

She's right. Why does this turn me on? Yuck! Someday I'll meet this man and make him pay, but right now I'm her uncle. I enter her fully as she arches in joy and comes again ... and again, this time with me. I lie on top of her kissing her neck as she caresses my head and shoulders. I pull out, push myself up, slide off my condom, place it on the nightstand, and smile.

"Well, Lovergirl, that's at least three orgasms, three fluids, and one gift card for Uncle M."
"You're one fluid short."
"What? Blood? You don't think I'm actually going to leave you a blood sample, do you?"
"No. I'm going to take one."

I catch a glimpse of her right hand as her fist crashes into my jaw then, lights out.

(a bloody mess ensues)