Chapter 25

“There is one obvious problem in trying to close these newest accounts,” Andrea pointed out, “the banks are all closed this late.”

“Not a problem for me. Just wire the entire balance to my Swiss account. Your banks will eventually close the account themselves if nothing is deposited after a while. Either that or wait until tomorrow to withdraw it. Depends on how much you need those funds right now,” Marjorie observed.

“And how soon we could get access to what’s left of the internet outside of Jersey. There’s plenty of liquidity for now, I suspect, due to the sheer amount of supplies we have, but we may be best off spending one more night in this state, just to hit the banks in the morning ... and get more supplies, or at least more gold or silver that we use to buy more supplies later,” Claire suggested.

“Too true. So, we spend one more night in Jersey after all. We hit the banks in the morning, and then we cross the state lines in broad daylight, hoping that there isn’t a manhunt or something like that,” David decided, settling the issue.

“Oh, I can deal with that problem myself. Let me charm any guards into it. Pretty please? I haven’t had too many chances to be a seductress yet. How about it?” Connie spoke up, volunteering to entice any border guards to let them through the checkpoints (if any existed).

“Very well, then. Connie gets that role this time. Alright, then. Let’s grab a bite and turn in for the night,” David answered, pulling into a steakhouse just outside the Pennington city limits.

Naturally, a group of thirty-five patrons got priority seating, and especially since they were so flush with cash. Allen paid for it this time, not exactly being poor himself, especially now. It was his treat and people were rather thrilled with him for it. Gretchen, whom he had seduced at the mall, was all over him for her part, adding to his existing love nest that already included Connie and Amanda. The waiter, a rather brazenly gay man, was far more interested in Clement, of all people. His attraction to the guy was fascinating to watch.

“You’re Russian, aren’t you? I’ve always had a thing for Russians,” the man drawled, his South Georgia accent coming out and then some.

“You’re a Southerner yourself, am I right? I am part-Russian, part-Armenian, just so you know. I am still new to this whole ... bisexuality idea, but it seems to have some merit to it. What brings you all the way here from Dixie?” Clement countered, warming up to him at least partly due to the sheer flattery and encouragement from Mercedes.

“I’m ... just looking for more acceptance of who and what I am. That was truer of Jersey in the past, but the current regime isn’t too favorable, if you catch my drift. Stanley Moorehead, by the way,” the fellow lisped slightly, adding to his appeal, at least to Clement.

“You’re all the way gay, aren’t you?” Mercedes interjected.

“That’s ... true. I’m also a bottom. Just so that you understand me,” the guy pushed back his blonde bangs, pleased that Clement’s favorite lady was obviously on board with the idea of including him.

“Good, because that way, I get to peg you if you join us,” Mercedes winked at Stanley, making him slightly nervous.

“I have to warn you now ... if you get what you want ... you’ll never be normal again,” Clement told him, “Clement Howard, by the way. Born Kliment Alexeyvich Nishanyan. In Yerevan, Armenia, in fact.”

“That sounds like a challenge. I do love challenges. And older guys, like yourself,” Stanley told him, “Challenge accepted. Meet me for my ‘smoke break,’ if you get me.”

“Well, I’m definitely older. I’m old enough to be your father, easily. Maybe even your grandfather. Yes, I’ll do that,” Clement agreed, both of them slipping off to the men’s room.

It was a bit rushed, had to be, because the Howard clan and others needed their orders filled, but not five minutes later, a relieved Clement returned to his seat. Stanley walked by, wiping his mouth, of course. It was pretty clear what took place in just that time. Their condition had spread again, and once again orally. Stanley definitely got his high-protein snack, no doubt of that. Not surprisingly, the whole group got excellent service that night, adding to their tips.

“Dollars to donuts, he’ll be joining us as the thirty-sixth member, won’t he?” Narciso chuckled while Elena played with his balls under the table.

“Yeah, I think so, too. Another bank account to close, I do believe,” Jenny mentioned as she caressed David’s dick through his pants.

“Hey, the more, the merrier, at least in my book,” Salome licked her lips at the prospect, “he won’t be strictly gay much longer, even if he still is for the moment.”

“You got that right, honey,” Karen agreed while playing footsie with Salome.

“Eat my ass!” Salome told her saucily.

“Give me five minutes in the ladies’ room, and you know that I will, babe,” Karen reminded her.

“You want to lick this Italian-Indian booty, don’t ya?” Salome teased her.

“Like you don’t want to rim my sweet black ass? Yeah, I thought as much!” Karen retorted with a kiss.

“That would be quite the vision, I must confess,” Melanie winked at both of them.

“Yeah, I bet that you’d think so! Madame bisexual Domme hot wife! Hell, you’d fuck every patron of age here, wouldn’t you? You’d eat every pussy and butt, too! You’d suck every last cock, too. I know what you’re like. I’m the same way, in case you missed it,” Marjorie told her.

“Oh, I didn’t miss that at all. Takes a slut to know a slut! I’d bend you over and fuck you with a strap-on, too, while Kyle here licked your bottom or used your face!” Melanie bragged now.

“I’d do all of that and then some,” Brandy boasted for her part.

“Oh, no doubt of that!” Clark teased her himself.

“I would love to watch someone tongue that ass!” Fujima told them now.

“So would I ... lover!” Azita declared.

“As would I,” Denise added her sentiments.

“All of this sex ... talk ... damn!” Jordan reacted now.

“Yeah, tell me about it!” Lena reacted, grabbing Horton and dragging him to the ladies’ room, where she proceeded to make noises that indicated a rough and forceful quickie.

When the Danish lady returned with Horton, from his second lay ever, he was noticeably more relaxed, to say the least. His prior incel attitude was long gone by now, too. From the way that Lena walked, it was evident that she had taken one for the team ... in the ass. He was much less resentful these days. Something about having a sexy Eurotrash blonde let one sodomize her would tend to do that to a guy. His remaining pent-up aggression and bitterness had been vented along with his spleen it seemed.

“Wow ... a lot of bathroom action, it seems,” Orville noted.

“That’s very true,” Amanda concurred.

“Hey, I’m getting my money’s worth. That’s all I know,” Allen beamed in response.

“No, this is getting your money’s worth,” Melanie told him as she pushed Curly’s head down, parted her legs, and shoved his face into her own gash under the table.

“Lucky bastard!” Kyle half-complained, but Jordan stopped that by yanking down his pants to suck his cock right there as well.

“Listen, cucky boi, from now on, whenever you gripe, even slightly or half-seriously, about what I do with someone else, I will invite anyone who wishes to have their way with you. Man or woman. If they want to fuck your face or your ass or ride you or whatever, they get to do it. Are we clear?” Melanie told him with a wink that indicated a playful game rather than a system of punishment and reward.

“Yes, of course ... Mistress!” Kyle stammered a bit in shock.

“So, if I did ... this, it wouldn’t be an issue at all, then,” Edda asked playfully while still wearing Azita’s hijab, as she turned and planted a wild and passionate French kiss on Kyle’s mouth.

“Go for it, honey! My cucky deserves all the kisses he could ever get,” Melanie encouraged the Mafia princess.

“Face it, Mistress loves to share me ... almost as much as she loves to be shared ... almost,” Kyle grinned.

“You nailed it, honey!” Melanie agreed with her hubby.

“I have to admit ... this lifestyle is a bit Bohemian, to say the least, but I’ve always been attracted to that kind of scene. Just never had the nerve to go for it. Now, however, I do,” Gretchen told everyone in her very pronounced German accent.

“True ... it’s unconventional, to put it mildly. We have Marjorie here and she just barely put on a dress before stepping into this steakhouse!” David observed.

“And she’s still not wearing panties at all!” Denise told them after looking briefly underneath.

“See something that you like?” Marjorie teased David’s niece.

“Something that would make a great dessert, probably,” Jenny winked at each of them.

“You’re Jewish, aren’t you? I know that it’s been said forty million times, but for the record,” Gretchen started to say, before Amanda cut her off.

“If this is an apology for the Holocaust, please don’t. You can’t be blamed for what your ancestors did, plain and simple. I blame all of the Germans of that generation, but no Germans afterward. The Germans of that generation all share in Hitler’s guilt to at least some extent, but they would never apologize and I could never forgive them. Least of all because I wasn’t of the generation butchered by them or with their complicity. Hitler’s dead. The whole Nazi regime is dead. That generation of Germans is largely dead. That generation of their victims is largely dead, too. All of the Allied soldiers who liberated the camps are dead, too. What’s done is done,” Amanda reassured Gretchen with a hug and kiss.

“What she said. She is my wife, after all,” Allen smiled.

“Yes, but I was never THAT kind of wife, was I?” Amanda pointed out.

“Nope. That’s Melanie who’s that kind of wife,” Allen needled Melanie, who stuck her tongue out at him in response.

“And I’m his girlfriend, of course. Strictly speaking, we’re all going to be married to everyone else here. I’m Jewish. Allen’s Jewish. Amanda’s Jewish, as you noticed. That’s three Jews married to you. Trust me, no one’s gonna think that you’re a Nazi, least of all your three new Jewish spouses,” Connie promised Gretchen with a kiss of her own.

“And I’m Russian. Well, half-Russian, I should say. My ancestors did God awful things to yours and yours definitely did them to mine. We have to move beyond that now, don’t we?” Clement reminded Gretchen now.

“The other half is Armenian, you said, right? Another people butchered horribly. Sad to say. The Armenian Genocide. Disgraceful. The Young Turks regime of the Ottoman Empire,” Gretchen recalled from her history.

“Very true. Anyway, let’s not speak of such depressing matters. We have a lot more interesting and pleasant topics to ponder while we chow down on this steak,” Clement agreed as Stanley brought them their steaks.

Kyle went for T-Bone, Clement opted for the blue cheese special, a medium-rare ribeye steak with blue cheese and mushrooms, Melanie chose filet mignon, Amanda threw kashrut law to the four winds with surf and turf, Marjorie stuck to prime rib, David preferred New York Strip, Orville selected porterhouse, and the rest of them received standard sirloin and ribeye. Vernon and Brony, for their part, though, proved to not eat red meat, the former being a pescaterian and the latter a full-on vegan. Vernon had the bourbon-flavored salmon and Brony stuck with the soup du jour, which wasn’t fully vegan, but close enough to avoid starvation.

“I notice that you let Kyle have what he wanted,” Fujima teased Melanie a little between bites of her sirloin.

“Sure. I’m mostly bark more than bite. It’s mostly just the sex stuff that I control. Otherwise, I’m a classic wife, I think. Fairly ordinary. I’m just very wild, aggressive, promiscuous, and dominant in bed. Kyle’s a big boy. If he wants to eat a T-Bone steak, good for him. Filet mignon is just more my style. Especially rare with bacon!” Melanie winked at the Japanese cutie.