“Now don’t be nervous, Aaron,” Aunt Wilhelimina declared. “It’s only six weeks I’ll be in the cure at Speyer.”
Aaron wasn’t the least bit nervous. What more could he want, privacy at the Presidio estate, ten servants to do his bidding? He’d already decided he’d experiment with girls on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. And save the boys for Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Sundays would be reserved for his left hand.
“Give your auntie a kiss and be done with it. My flight to Zurich leaves in two hours.”
He kissed his aunt and watched James drive her down the hill to Highway One. Aaron closed the door – and jumped up and down. Okay, first things first. Where were the jewels? Oh, yes – in Auntie’s safe in the drawing room. He’d model them in the mirror when he put on Uncle Emory’s tuxedo.
And then he’d take the Aston Martin for a drive over the Golden Gate Bridge up to Napa. When he was done with that, he’d run his favorite movies in the downstairs theatre. Along with his bisexual porn, of course – but on Sundays, only.
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