Gynophagia Chronicles: Samantha
Sunday, September 25, 2218, 6:15pm
The Wells Home 1110 Beagle St. San Ramon CA.
From Samantha Marie Wells’ Memoirs
Glen parked Pop's Bentley Mulsane in the driveway of the modest home. Pop rode shotgun with Mother and Astrid in back.
“What a dump,” Astrid said.
“You will behave yourself, Meatgirl!” Glen said.
“Glen!” Mother exclaimed.
“Mother, you have to be kidding me. You brought me all the way down here to meet the Wells girls and you're going to let Astrid F it up? Why did we even bring her?”
“Because we're a family,” Mother said. “And families stick together. Astrid, you will behave yourself.”
“Whatever,” Astrid said. “I'm hungry!”
“I'm sure of it,” Mother said. She'd put Astrid on a strict diet since last weekend. That had been when the original visit to the Wells home had been planned. But, unknown to the Carringtons at the time, Samantha had written the piece on Franklin High. Glen imagined it was Samantha herself that was not emotionally prepared to receive guests, though Jessica Wells made the excuse that she was simply sick.
Mother had been very disapointed that Jessica had not shown up for their usual Wednesday evening either. But, by that time, the whole country knew about what Samantha had witnessed.
Glen had followed the story since it came out. Visiting as many schools as he did, he had become well educated in the issues involved. At Livermore High School, for instance, the kitchen staff came under intense scrutiny, and a supervisor was assigned to witness all cullings. At Las Lomas High School in Walnut Creek, each of the staff had to take a battery of tests, starting with English.
The unions were going insane. They were calling police reporting brutality when there was none. Dolores High in San Francisco had a fire that as set by a disgruntalled food worker who had been fired for not following simple proceedure.
Glen normally was as interested in the news as he would be watching paint dry. But this affected his job, even if indirectly, and it was by someone his mother was trying to sell him on: Samantha Wells.
Glen forced himself to read more of her stuff. The review of the show at Tropicana Blue was interesting. Most of the rest was difficult, if not impossible to finish. Glen was sure Samantha was as good a writer as everyone said, but who gave a rats rear end, anyway? Seriously! Not one damn thing she wrote about affected him save for that one story about her own high school.
On Wednesday, he avoided coming back and being mother's “Date” by running an errand to Orinda. Meeting with Johnny again with revenge against Michael in mind. Christ, this revenge shit was convoluted. Johnny wanted the layout of the Wells home, which, he said, he was sure Michael had bugged. Johnny wanted to know where those bugs were likely to be. So Glen's tie clasp had a tiny camera in it and would record everywhere he went. He'd get a tour of the house and Johnny would get his layout.
“So what's the angle, Johnny?” Glen asked, confused about how this was going to hurt Michael in any way.
“Because, if we expose his bugs, he'll be forced to get the hell away from there. Don't you want that?”
“I want him out of town,” Glen said. “I want to fuck his shit up!”
“This is the first step,” Johnny had said.
Glen checked the tie clasp by pulling his PDA out of his blazer. It was working fine. He was facing Astrid, damnit. At least he could have been facing Mother, he'd rather not look at her pudgy disgusting self.
Pop opened the trunk and called Glen over to collect two bottles of Ribera del Duero wine and grabbed the other two himself, and the four Carringtons made their way to the Wells' front door. When they were halfway up the path it opened. Jessica and Matthew Wells appeared with big smiles on their faces.
“Thank you for coming,” Matthew said. “It's good to see you, Sly!”
“Good to see you too, Matt. Beware Bankers bearing gifts!” Pop held out a bottle which Matthew took.
“You're very good at bribery, Sly. I think you missed your calling!”
“Not at all,” Pop said. “That's half my job!”
Pop, Mother, Matthew and Jessica all laughed heartily as Astrid stood looking bored next to Pop.
“Come in,” Matthew said. “Nice to see you again, Astrid.”
“Sure,” Astrid said.
“Glen, good of you to come!”
“Thanks for inviting me,” Glen put on as friendly a face as he could to the man who's wife he wanted to fuck silly.
Why don't we all come inside,” Jessica finally said. “My sister and her children are here as well. It's such a nice evening, I thought we'd have dinner outside on the new deck. Matthew and the boys built us a table this morning.”
Inside, the wells clan were all present, and Glen's intense awareness of body types kicked in.
Glen's first impression of Eric was that he was a leaner, geekier version of his father. Ruggedly handsom, of course. Not beautiful. Michelle and Patricia Wells were beautiful. If Glen had not been told he would never have thought they were part of the Wells clan. They were much taller than the rest of the girls and looked like they came from a very different family. Strawberry Blonde Patricia and Brunette Michelle both stood about five seven, both had far more curvy figures and both had tits out to there! The only one that had that was Grace, the eldest girl, but she was so obviously Jessica's daughter the way Patti and Miki seemed not to be. The rest of the girls and Jimmy all had their mother's softly stunning beauty. If Jimmy's hair had been longer, he could have passed for a girl.
It was when Glen was introduced to Samantha that Glen, normally at ease around the most beautiful woman, became uncharacteristically tongue tied. He held her hand too long, started at her too long, made overt gestures and felt completely foolish in front of her. Like the rest of her sisters (save Miki and Patti) she was tiny. She might have been 5'9” the way she was built but miniaturized. Her head was a little big on her body, but that was true of all those that took after Jessica.
Glen collected their names carefully as he was being introduced, another talent from his childhood football days. Eric, Gracie, Jenna, Samantha, Patricia, Michelle, James, Mara, Danielle and Celine.
What threw him a bit was being introduced to Julia McGill and her two children, Sean and Lucy. Julia was a bustier version of Jessica with darker freckles. Her children, like Jessica's children, looked like their mother with one difference. Both of them had eyes that reminded Glen of Matthew's. They were the same hazel green and very close in shape to Matthew's. Was he their father? It wouldn't be unheard of for a sister in law to be a concubine, but he wondered how Matthew could afford one. Unless, of course, she were working at a decent paying job.
It was hot in the house. The boys and Matthew wore collard t-shirts of different colour and brand with shorts or cut-offs. The girls all wore loose halter tops that must have been home made because there was only one floral print fabric pattern. All the girls shorts were the same green denim. It wasn't difficult to see that most, if not all of them were braless. Their breasts moved freely under the thin fabric.
Glen found himself talking football with Matthew, Eric and Pop in short order as the women took Sean and Jimmy with them outside to have girl chat. When the kitchen door swung open and Grace Wells brought a tray of wine glasses he noticed Samantha was in the kitchen helping cook. How domestic of her. Maybe she's not completely useless at home like most professional women. Snarky thoughts were occurring to him about her. What the hell? Why am I hostile to her? I don't even know the bitch. I just know I really want to fuck her Mom and fuck her too! What the fuck?
She's Michael's cunt, Glen thought. That's it! She's Michael's cunt, he's fucked her and left his stench on her and I can smell it all the way out here.
“...but
the Osric brothers, I dunno,” Pop was saying. “Glen has a
better take on them. I've just never been a fan. I think they're
overrated.”
Glen turned his attention back to the conversation at hand and dove into his knowledge of the Osric brothers, who he respected, but also thought were overrated as players.
“So, what are the Raider's prospects?” Eric asked. “The season hasn't started off veryw well.”
“I think they'll go four and fourteen,” Glen said. “That's a guess, but I'll bet I'm close. I don't think they'll be a viable team for some time.”
“Damn,” Matthew said. “I wish I could say I thought you were wrong, but I can't...”
“Sorry,” Glen said. “I have to call it the way I see it.”
Mother appeared.
“I have come to bid you gentelmen to come to dinner,” she said.
“Excellent!,” Pop said. “But I'm guessing that's the end of our football talk.”
“Probably,” Matthew said. “Though I'm sure we can do some of it later. I have some decent beer in the garage.”
Places had been set up. Astrid had been seated between Jessica and Julia with Mother across from them. Pop sat between Miki and Patti, who, it turned out, were cheerleaders and had just today been elevated to the Varsity level.
“We're going to compete with the big girls!” Miki said excitedly to Pop, and Pop, to his credit, gobled up their energy.
Matthew and Eric sat opposite Pop with young Celine between them.
Glen found himself seated between Samantha and Gracie, with Jenna opposite him, who seemed to be making eyes at him.
“I've seen you before,” Jenna noted.
“Really?”
“At our school,” she said. “You were sitting on the bleachers one day. Maybe two or three weeks ago? I can't remember exactly. But I've seen you.”
“Now I remember!” Samantha said. “Are you the guy from the U.S. Olympic Commitee?”
“Yes, I am.”
“See?” Jenna said. “I didn't think my memory was that bad.”
“It's true. I am.”
“And you were with this other guy. Drop dead gorgeous, not as tall as you, but tall, like maybe Daddy's height. Who was he?”
“That was Michael Gianni,” Glen said, glad he was able to say the name with some level of innocence. “Good friend of mine.” He sensed Samantha stiffen next to him.
“Michael Gianni?” Grace asked. “Sammie, isn't that the name of the guy who took you to Tropicana Blue?”
“Hmm...” Samantha nodded as slightly as she could with tight lips and downcast eyes and very, very stiff. Hmm... Trouble in Paradice, Miss Wells? Did he dump you? Or did your Parents dump him for you? What happened here?
“Anyway,” Glen said. He struggled for a moment about how to deal with this. In the end, he chose to evade. Maybe Samantha would appreciate not having to deal with whatever it was. “I had no idea who you girls were at the time. My parents never spoke of your family to me. It wasn't my business anyway, Pop being your banker and all...”
“I simply love those tops you girls are wearing!” Mother hollared.
“Trashy,” said Astrid with languid hostility.
“They're beautiful,” Mother said. “Wherever did you get them?”
“Miki made them for us today,” Celine said. “She sewed all day. I helped a little.”
“Actually,” Miki said. “Celine helped a lot.”
“Did you use a pattern?” Mother asked.
“No,” Miki said. “I just made them.”
“Miki's our resident clothing designer,” Jessica said proudly. “She's designed the new school uniform which was just approved by the School Board.”
“Barely,” Jenna said. “They voted Five to Four in favour. Didn't think that was going to happen, but it did! Everyone's very happy about it.”
“But we still have those stupid bathing suits,” Mara complained.
Glen listened with mild ammusement as he listened to the tale of woe from all the girls in turn, with the exception of Samantha, who never spoke. How they had to do gym class every morning and all morning Friday with wet bathing suits on.
“We wanted to get optional naked swimming,” said Danielle. “But they won't let us.”
“Naked swimming?” Pop exclaimed. “Why naked?”
“So we don't have to do gym in wet suits!” chorussed the three youngest, Mara, Danielle and Celine.
“Parents signed petitions,” Jenna said. “And it was like ninety percent in favour.”
“Really!” Pop said. “I'd have thought parents would dissaprove of that sort of thing.”
“Well,” Matthew said. “I was going to vote no... but then the girls told me about what they had to do every morning. It was... well, I still wanted to vote no for an alternative. I hope that'll happen. But I couldn't say I was condoning the school's requirements. I think they're just stubborn, and it pisses me off that my girls have to be that uncomfortable. The boys don't have to do their PE time in wet clothing.”
“This bottle's done,” said Pop. “Glen, I put the other two bottles in the kitchen. Would you go open one?”
“Sure,” Glen said. He excused himself and stood. As he did so, he happened to look over and see that Julia's son Sean had his hand inside Jimmy Wells' open fly. Jimmy was letting himself be stroked. Glen managed to get away without throwing up. Holy shit! Holy shit! “I'll be back in a few moments. May I use your bathroom, Matthew?”
“Sure,” Matthew said. “There's a private one just under the stairs.”
Glen nodded. Inside, he washed his face. Holy shit! Fucking faggot in the Wells Family! I could get the whole fucking family culled now! Holy shit! What now? He dialed Johnny's number. The line went live and he could hear the lively music coming through the phone.
“What's up?” Johnny asked.
“You're not going to believe this!” Glen whispered.
“I can't hear you! Speak louder!”
“I can't! Get to a quiet spot!” Glen said through gritted teeth.
“Hangon!” Johnny said, the annoyance in his voice. When the music was replaced with Johnny's heavy breathing, he answered again. “What's going on?”
“Man, you are not going to believe this!”
“This better be good. I was in the middle of something.”
“Yeah? Get this: one of the Wells boys is a fag! He's a fucking fag! And so, by the way, is his cousin. And, his cousin might very well be Matthew Wells son by a concubine!”
“Who the fuck is Matthew Wells?”
“Samantha Wells' father, shit for brains! That's who!”
There was silence on the other end.
“Oh, this is good. This is very good,” Johnny said. “This is fucking fantastic!”
“You could have the whole family culled!”
“Yep! You are sure about this?”
“I am.”
“Oh, this is good! Alright. I'd still like that video tour. OH! Did you have your recorder on when you saw?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Shit! See if it's on there!”
Fucking A Right! Why the hell didn't I think of that? Glen pulled his PDA out of his jacket and sure enough, it had been on. What was it? Five minutes? Maybe ten? He fumbled to rewind the recording and found the point at which he stood up, watched... and sure enough! There it was! Kissing Cousins, I'll bet!
“It's on there!”
“Glen! You are worth your weight in gold!”
“I'll hold you to that!”
“I want that right away... just send me the whole recording as it is now. Just do it. I want it now!”
Glen was not a novice with electronics, but he was not as proficient as he'd like. It took him a few minutes before he managed to get the recording into an email and sent. He called Johnny back and confirmed he'd received it, then made his way back to the kitchen.
The wine bottles were gone.
“We were getting worried!” said Jessica.
“I'm alright,” Glen assured.
“I hope it wasn't dinner,” Samantha said, obviously concerned.
“Oh, no. Dinner was wonderful! Jessica, you're an amazing cook! I hope you'll invite me back!”
“Actually,” Jessica said, pride showing on her face once again. “It was Samantha's doing. She cooked the whole dinner.”
“Is that so?” Glen asked. “It was wondeful!”
“I just followed a recipe Mom gave me,” Samantha said sheepishly, cheeks flushed.
“Maybe you can do it again for us, I hope,” Glen said, then he remembered something. “I heard about your interview with Congressman Jackson. I'm impressed, by the way.”
“It was a lot of fun speking with him,” Samantha lit up with a smile that would melt ice in the depths of cold outter space.
“Tell me about that evening...”
Glen spent the entire rest of the evening listening to her talk, and thinking how much he'd love to fuck her up the ass... just like the jungle dancers did in Johnny's club...