Mister Jack Miller Ch. 06

Amateur

By way of introduction, let me say that if you haven’t read the first chapters of this story, then much of the next few pages will mean very little to you. So I suggest you go back and read “Mister Jack Miller: Chapters 1 thru 5” to get the background on this tale. That having been said, please…read on…

Before putting on my underwear, I looked at the bottle of hand lotion on the table, and wondered if an application might help to soothe my aching cock. Then I recalled times in the past when I had masturbated using hotel hand lotion, and had ended up with an even rawer dick than this, and sometimes a rash. I walked over to Alex’s bed to see if she had any lotion in her suitcase, and discovered a bottle of “All Natural Vitamin E Skin Revitalization Formula” lotion. I squirted a little on my hand and felt it, and it seemed a little less harsh than the hotel lotion, so I squirted a little more onto my hand and began to rub my cock. It felt great, and even though I got a semi-hard-on from the rubbing, I knew that I had neither the time nor the inclination to make myself come again. I was hoping to spend the night with Shari tonight, and I wanted to conserve as much energy as possible, so I simply rubbed the lotion into my dick until it felt like it was sufficiently “revitalized”, noted the brand of lotion so I could buy some of my own soon, and slipped on my underwear.

Wanting to double-check the reunion event schedule for the next few days, I turned on the television because I knew they had a computerized hotel event agenda that would show on the “hotel channel.” Sure enough, I found it, but had to wait through several other event listings and a handful of ads for different services available at the hotel. Just before the reunion schedule showed up onscreen, there was an ad for the “Rooftop Hot Tub Experience,” which was, basically, that the hotel had a hot tub on the roof that it rented out to private parties for special occasions. There was a picture of the hot tub, bubbling with frothy steam water. there were at least seven people in the hot tub in the picture, and a few others dangling their legs into it, so I knew it would be pretty large. the background was of the city skyline, with all the lighted buildings and the starry sky. I thought to myself, “that looks pretty cool,” so I made a mental note of it. Then the reunion event schedule came onscreen. After the Dinner-Dance from 7:30-11:00 tonight, there would be a Family breakfast in the morning, a pool party tomorrow afternoon, and a Closing dinner tomorrow night. I double checked that my flight left first thing Friday morning after the closing dinner, and pondered what types of interesting situations might present themselves over the next day and a half.

I thought about not inquiring about the rooftop Jacuzzi, considering there was a pool party scheduled for the next afternoon, but the images in my head were more intimate than a raucous splashing cannonball-fest for the kids and sharing the more public hot tub with some of my more disagreeable relatives. Plus the fact that the weather forecast indicated that the low temperature for tonight was in the low eighties (Ahh, August!). So I called down to the concierge and asked if the Hot Tub had been booked for this evening. He said there was a party who had it reserved until ten, but given a half hour cleaning and refill time after their reservation was over, it could be made ready for me by 10:30.

I went ahead and made a reservation for 10:30-1:30, and made sure that the wet bar would be fully stocked with things like Bailey’s, Sam Adams, Jack Daniels and Coke, and a few other things that the people I was planning on inviting might take a particular liking to. Then I dressed and spent the remaining time before the Dinner writing out invitations to my little Hot Tub Party to Alex, Debbie, Shari, and my mom Doris, since I hadn’t really spent a whole lot of time with her yet this week. I even wrote one out for Nana out of deference to her, knowing that she would probably beg out of it, but half hoping that she would be able to make it up.

I wore a decent suit, not a tuxedo by any standards, but a nice loose Italian double-breasted number I’d gotten from my local tailor. Checking myself out in the mirror before leaving the room, I gave myself just enough time to zip down to the gift shop and purchase five identical black and white flower pins to give to the girls I would invite upstairs tonight.

To get to the ballroom where the Dinner was to be held, I had to walk down a wide hallway, at the end of which was my destination. As soon as I rounded the corner into the hallway, I stopped and did a double take. I suddenly realized that on either side of the hallway, all the way down to the entrance to the ballroom, there had been placed about a dozen sculptures, which I recognized immediately as my sister Alex’s work. I had always admired Alex’s particular talent, but I had never seen so many of her pieces in one place like escort bostancı this before, it blew me away. Every single piece had a special meaning to it. In fact, she was in the habit of giving her pieces one-word names describing the feeling or emotion she was trying to convey in the work. there was one of a man who lay face down on the ground with his hands spread wide, called ‘Grief.’ Another was of two little boys fighting over a toy fire truck called ‘Struggle.’ Another of an old woman kneeling with her hand touching her forehead, called ‘Reverence.’ I noticed one I had never seen before at the end of the hallway, basically framing the entrance to the ballroom. It was a huge representation of a nude female whose body was bent backwards forming an arch over the door. The woman had a pair of wings and a look of such sheer delight on her face, you couldn’t help but smile. It was called simply ‘Joy.’ I was impressed. this must have been the one she’d recently sold for a bundle. I was very happy for her.

Then I noticed, just to the right of the doorway, a curtain had been set up, and on the curtain there was a printed sign that read, “Parental Discretion Advised,” so, having a feeling I knew at least one of the pieces that was behind the curtain, I slipped inside. The first thing I noticed was that Shari, Alex and Debbie were all inside, standing near a piece at the far end of the space, talking animatedly to one another. When they saw me come in, they lowered their voices considerably, and Debbie giggled a little bit.

I noted the first piece near where I had come in. It was THAT one. It was the sculpture that Alex had made in class that week, a nude sculpture of me. I couldn’t get over how detailed and perfect it was. She had my face down cold, as if she could have done it with her eyes closed and still got it perfect. I immediately recalled how scrawny, relatively speaking, I had been at that time. Then I noted the genitalia, and remembered how difficult it was for me to keep from getting a huge boner during that series of classes. In fact, as I looked closer at it, it seemed as if it was actually about one-third of the way to an erection, and I blushed immediately. For reasons I was not too sure about, she had called the piece ‘Confidence.’

The second of the four pieces was called “Passion.” It was a couple, locked in a sixty-nine position, but you could tell by the positioning of their legs, arms, hands and faces, that the two people in the sculpture were truly feeling an intense desire for one another, not simply a need for sex. the third was called ‘Lust,’ and was a representation of a woman on her back, legs spread and held back by her elbows, which were tucked into the backs of her knees. She had two fingers of one hand in her pussy, and her other hand was pulling her hood back and rubbing her clitoris. Her facial expression was one of a person having given themselves over completely to the orgasm, but with a sadness behind it that was palpable. I was impressed, and, frankly, a little turned on.

Finally, I reached the spot where the girls were standing. As I approached, Alex took my arm and kissed me on the cheek, saying, “so, brother-of-mine, what do you think of the exhibit?”

“Pretty damn awesome, Sis. I mean, you’ve sent me pictures of a lot of these things, but it’s just not the same as seeing them in person. You are one incredible artist.” Then, as Shari and Debbie both came up and kissed me on the cheek just as Alex had done, I asked, “And what’s this one called?”

Then I noticed it. First off, was the name, ‘Confidence II,’ and the date, which was about a month after the first one had been made. Then I looked at the piece itself. It was an almost identical reproduction of the sculpture of me that was sitting at the other end of the curtained-off space. The only difference in this one was the genitalia. Instead of being more or less limp in this image, I had a full-on erection that was remarkably detailed, down to the veins and the ball-sack tightened up against the base of the shaft as if ready to ejaculate. Mind you, it was not a PERFECT representation of my cock, but the length and the girth were spot-on. My jaw dropped a little, and Shari grabbed my arm and said, “Jack, honey, do you need to sit down?”

I tried to figure out just what this emotion was that was coursing through my heart and mind at the moment. I’m sure there was a little embarrassment mixed in there, but also a hint of pride in my sister’s amazing ability to take a single sensory experience (feeling my cock pressing against her and feeling me coming as we hugged that night) and transforming it into this perfect picture of, well, CONFIDENCE. the look she had put into my eye in this second sculpture was one of just that, a man who knows what he wants and is determined to get it. I looked back at the first sculpture and, though the look wasn’t as strong, there was something of the spark of it in that first image ümraniye escort that I couldn’t deny.

“How did you…?” I started to stammer, but Alex put her finger to my lips and whispered in my ear,” I’ll tell you later, Jackie. I might even tell you a few things about this statue that would surprise you, if you’re in the mood for it later…”

I looked at her, half-guessed what she was referring to, and then my face grew even hotter when she said, “You shoulda seen Mom’s face when she saw it. She got even redder than you are right now, if you can believe that,” at which Debbie held up her compact mirror to my face and showed me just how flushed my face really was. “I need a glass of water RIGHT NOW.”

Debbie replied, “Well, it’s about to get started in there anyway, so let’s go sit down. We’ve already reserved us a table by the dancefloor.”

I took Shari’s arm, wondering what she’d been thinking about me, about Alex, since she saw these statues. We emerged from the curtained-off area, and I think at that point that my hard-on was probably the second-hardest cock in the area right now, second only to the one on the statue. As we walked in through the door, I saw Janelle standing there with a tray of champagne flutes in her hand. when she saw me enter, she brightened considerably and said, as professionally as she could manage, “Good evening, Sir, would you care for some champagne?”

I smiled at her, took one of the bubbly glasses and said, “Thank you very much.”

“Can I help you find a table, Sir?”

“No, thanks, I think I’ve already got one.”

I think Debbie must have noticed some kind of unspoken communication between us, because she leaned over to me as we reached the table and said, “I think that waitress likes you,” and slugged me gently on the shoulder.

“Where do you get that from?” I asked, but I think my attempt at feigning ignorance just piqued her curiosity that much more. I’m sure she would be grilling me about Janelle soon enough. Luckily, Debbie chose not to dwell on it. Mom was already at the table. I knelt on the ground next to her chair, “Good evening, Mother,” I said, and as she turned, I hugged her.

“Jackie, sweetheart. I feel like I haven’t seen you all week! What have you been up to?”

“Oh, a little of this, a little of that. I’m sorry we didn’t get together yet this week, Mom. Things have been kind of weird for me lately.”

“Oh, yes, Wendy. I’ve been hearing things, but I want the whole story before this night is over, do you hear me?”

Deciding that topic would be best saved for when we’d both had a few drinks in our system, I thought it would be a good time to present the invitations. “Yes, mother. Tell you what…” I brought out one of the flower pins, pinned it on her lapel, handed her her invitation and said, “Why don’t you come upstairs with me tonight, and we can relax in the hot tub and catch up on that kind of stuff.”

She opened the invitation and started to read it. I observed her outfit. It was a sharply tailored full-length dress, brown in color (which matched her eyes and hair) with orange piping. It was sleeveless, but conformed to her shape rather well, emphasizing her sizable breasts while drawing attention away from the hips that I knew she had thought were too wide. I kissed her on the cheek as she read, but when she finished, she said, “Well, if you can stand looking at your tired old Mom in a bathing suit, I’ll come along. For a little while.”

“Stand it? Mom, I’m looking forward to it. Thanks, I’m so glad. I can’t wait.” As I stood, I noticed her glancing in the general direction of the bulge in my trousers. I wondered if she might have been thinking about the sculpture right at that moment, but I didn’t want to pry there, so I turned to Shari.

Shari was dressed impeccably. She wore a black dress that had almost a neck that looked like something out of Victorian England, but just below the neckpiece was a hole in the shape of an upside-down triangle which started at the base of her neck and ended about halfway between her breasts and her belly button. Everything was trimmed with a red lace–the neck, the ends of the sleeves, and the hem, which was just below her knee. the skirt was split up the side, and the split was also trimmed with red lace. She wore hose that were dark red in color, and as I checked out how high the split went up her thigh, I noticed what I figured to be a red garter-belt clip clipped to the top of her stocking. “Very Impressive. And the hair looks great, too.” It had been styled that afternoon, no doubt, and was piled high on her head like some WWII-era movie starlet. Her shoes were high heels, the same red as the lace, and had criss-cross straps that went about three inches above her ankle.

“Thanks, I ran into your mom and sister in the lobby after my lunch with Nana, and we decided to go to the mall together. We did a little shopping, and bought some clothes…then we got our hair kartal escort bayan and nails done.” I noticed her nails. They were the same dark red as her stockings. I was very impressed. I reached over to pin a flower on her chest, just above her left breast, and kissed her on the cheek, whispering, “I want YOU to stay the longest.” She read the invitation and then looked me in the eye and said, “I WANT to stay the longest,” kissing me back on my cheek.

I turned to Debbie. She had on a yellow (what else?) dress that was, as per her normal wardrobe, pretty darn revealing. The spaghetti straps were nothing, and the way her breasts pushed against the front of her dress, I was sure she would pop out over the top of it, and all those boys in the ballroom who were now whispering to one another that “Debbie’s here” would be treated to occasional glimpses of nipples and areola all night long. There were a dozen or so big yellow sequin flowers positioned around the dress, and, of course, it was a mini, stopping just short of revealing her feminine charms. Debbie’s shoes were low white heels, as if she were intending on dancing or something…her hair was pulled back and worked into a long French braid that went halfway down her back.

I pinned a flower on her dress, being as careful as I could not to stick any flesh, and handed her the invitation. “Cool, hot tubbin’ with Uncle Jackie! Can’t wait! I’ll be there. Thanks, Jack.” And she kissed my cheek, too. Then I turned to Alex.

“The star artist,” I said as I checked her out. He dress was a deep blue–darker than royal blue but not as dark as, say, a navy. It looked as though she had taken five or six pieces of loose fabric and draped them over her shoulders and tied them around her waist with a black sash. The sides of the dress weren’t really there, as I could see bare skin from under her arms all the way down to where the sash held everything together. I could just make out the sides of her breasts, and surmised that she was braless like Debbie. The skirt portion of the dress was jagged, uneven, almost like the proverbial poor-girl’s skirt, thrown together from scraps. She wore light blue hose and white shoes that looked almost exactly like Debbie’s shoes. Alex’s hair looked at first like she had teased it mercilessly for a half hour and then given up on it, but when I looked closer at it I could see the plan the hairdresser had, and realized that it was, indeed, a pretty incredible hairdo. “Wow,” I said, “some ‘do.’ Dja ferget to tip the hairdresser or something?”

She looked hurt for a second, then realized I was just joshing her, so she slugged me–HARD–in the shoulder. “OWW! Okay, okay. I’m messin’ with ya. It looks great, it really does.”

“I happen to LIKE the ‘chaos’ look, thank you very much…” she said as she began to read the invitation. I pinned the flower on her shoulder and she smiled and said, “Cool, bro. How much is this costin’ you?”

“Never you mind,” I said, “Just show up. Wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said, and, like the other girls before her, she kissed me on the cheek. I pulled out chairs for all of them, and they sat down at the table. I was positioned with Alex next to me on my left and Debbie on her other side. Shari sat on my right with Mom next to her. Just before I sat down, I started to walk over to where Nana was holding court with a half dozen or so kids, none of whom could have been more than about three. She was handing out Teddy Bears to all of them as she sat there dressed in the sparkliest deep dark purple dress I had ever seen. It literally caught every light in that room and reflected it in such a way as the whole corner of the room where she sat glowed purple with her royal presence. I walked closer to her and she raised her head, and smiled wide and beckoned me over. The first thing I noticed about Nana is that she looked tired, and, after again wishing her a happy 100th birthday, I told her so.

“Well, my boy, I’ve been having these blasted meetings all day long, so of course I’m tired. But at least they’re all done now, so I can turn in now.” the way she said “turn in” I wasn’t sure whether she meant for the night, or forever, but I nevertheless moved forward and said, “But I was hoping to have a dance with you tonight. And some of us are going to be hot tubbing on the roof after the party tonight. I was hoping you would be able to join us,” I said as I pinned the flower on her dress

“Now, boy, how old do you think I am, twenty? No, no, I’ll be going to bed soon, but I have one more thing to do…” Someone had handed her a microphone and she talked into it without really looking up at anyone. “It’s been good to see you all this week. I’m hoping you will enjoy the dance tonight, and thanks for helping me celebrate my birthday. You’ve all been so nice. I’ll see you all tomorrow afternoon at the pool party, and then for the final dinner tomorrow night.” Twice during this speech, her voice faltered, and her personal physician, standing at her side as usual, decided after the second time it was time for Nana’s speech to end, so she handed me the microphone. Nana got real still, so I turned to the crowd to draw attention away from it,

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