NSFW Author

Being single has its advantages. I can work on my MKTWO CMS software anytime I want to without having to conform to the schedule of a nagging girlfriend who complains you are not in bed in the middle of the night.

What if I do my best work at 2am because no client bothers me ?

Of course, I am not always alone either. Despite being a geek, I make enough money to look interesting enough to the various girls I meet in the New York nightlife.

I prefer the tourists because then I can rent a limo and give them the time of their life: a private guided tour of New York for the price of a night in the arms of their knight in shining armour.

It doesn’t always work. Sometimes the girls take advantage of my generosity. Other times I simply can’t find a candidate willing to go.

But at least once per month, I find a nice sexy girl to bring home and spend some company with me even if only for a few hours.

Sure, I still miss Lindsey, that’s a given. I don’t think any girl is ever going to replace her. We spent only a few months together but it was exciting months, the best of my life. It didn’t help I could masturbate while watching any minute of any day they spent in my loft.

How do you get over somebody you can see anytime you want ?

Sure, it’s not the same thing, but it makes every other girl look pale in comparison to her. She is the one who got away!

The worst was that she left only because they no longer had enough money to survive both of us when our Internet porn business failed. Now that I am making money developing mainstream websites both for myself and for my clients, I could simply hire her as a secretary to take my calls.

Heck, I could make her work naked for old time sake, and still fuck several times per day.

But no, I had to let her go to Germany. Worse, I never really told her I loved her. Not seriously. Not something like : “I want to spend the rest of my life with you”, which is exactly what I wanted.

I got what I deserved. Next time, I won’t let her or any other important girl slip through but I couldn’t be sure there would be a next time.

“Driiing”

Great, visitors at the door. I took my loft initially because it was hard to find and in the middle of nowhere. Recently however, the empty lofts around mine got rented and I get wrong addresses all of the time.

I pressed my intercom button, initially telling the person, whoever they were, that they had the wrong address. I used to it…

“Is this the home of Michael Kelly ?”, replied the perfect stranger.

“It depends on who you are”

“We are from the NYPD. Can we talk for a minute with you ?”

Shit. What did I do. If I let them in, they can search my loft for copyrighted material. I have tons of pirated movies and even hacked software laying around.

“I’ll come down to meet you”

It was safer, easier. I left to the main corridor and went down the elevator, until I saw two uniformed cops on the other side of the glass window.

If their intend was to seize my computers or search my loft, they would have sent a detective, but these were simple cops. Was my car stolen and found without me noticing it ? I didn’t use it for the last few days so perhaps I didn’t even realize it was gone.

I opened the door and both men took out their hat.

“What can I do for you officers ?”

“Mr. Kelly, we have the regret to inform you of the death of your mother, Jane Clarkson, in a car accident this morning. Her husband was also in the car and sustained massive injuries but is now out of intensive care and should recover fully. If you wish, we can bring you in a patrol car to the hospital to officially identify the body of your mother and visit your step-father. We are sorry for your loss”

Wow, my mother is dead. When is the last time I spoke to hear ? Oh yeah, a week ago. She called while I was working on a project and told her I would call her back. I never did.

Stunned, I followed the cops and stood in the back of the car. I could always take a taxi to get back.

A million thoughts ran into my mind. Did the police already contacted my sister ? Should I contact my father ? Does he still care about her ? Do I even know where he is ?

Shit, this is rather serious.

At the hospital, even thought they found my mother’s driver’s licence in her purse with her picture and she was found in her car, I still needed to officially identify her. That’s the law or something, but I didn’t really need to see her in that state. Well, perhaps I did. To provide some closure.

The police only had my own coordinates and it was now my duty to inform the rest of my family. I started by visiting Paul, my mother’s second husband in his room. He was in a really bad shape, but what struck me the most was that the normally jovial man was now expressionless.

It’s as if a part of him had died that day. I left him and called my sister. I didn’t tell her what happened exactly, but I told her Paul and mom had been hospitalized and she needed to come with her kids to visit them as soon as they could.

I called all of the numbers I had for my father but only got answering machines. As a last resort, I made a long distance call to my half-sister in Jamaica in order to track him down.

She now manages full time his resort and is more often in contact with him than I am. Fortunately, Cathy is always on the resort and easy to find. Too bad we are related thought, because I wouldn’t mind dating her. Stop it Michael, now is not the time. You always do that when you need to call her. She is off limits to you.

I learned that he was currently with her mother in Mexico on vacation but would come back in three days to their Washington condo.

With Paul hospitalized, did this mean I had to organize the funeral, being the oldest son ?