America 1982-Chapter 667 - 8: Let’s Scrap the Golf Clubs_2

"You fucked a guy who claims to be a woman?" Pam asked, suddenly interested.

"Of course not, if so, I’d rather my own stick rotted away! I had just never tried lesbians before, and there was this woman at Stanford University named Quinn. She actually was a lesbian, and she always intentionally flirted with me, playing games with me. Then, one time when she provoked me again, I really did it to her...you know. That woman is not easy to mess with. I screwed her once, and she screwed my girls many times to make it up to herself, so don’t mess with white-haired lesbians," Tommy said to Pam:

"She freaked out that time, probably didn’t expect me to be so shameless. Even though I knew she was acting, I still took it seriously. I regretted it afterward because she even threw up. It was only later that I understood that those kinds of people can’t really handle intimate contact with the opposite sex. To keep her quiet instead of suing me, I donated a large sum of money to her laboratory, so much that she could probably fuck every woman in America," he said.

"Wow, you forced yourself on the dean of Stanford University?" Pam laughed as she searched for Quinn and Stanford on her phone, and then found her picture: "I can’t think of any reason you wouldn’t be thrown into jail unless Tony arranged an assassination for her."

Noticing Tommy looking at her, Pam shrugged: "I’m guessing, Tony should be able to send out elite agents to take care of anyone just like those big shots in the movies by now, right?"

"Of course not, I now have to enjoy Quinn’s SM once a month, it’s really effective for releasing stress, except I can’t fuck her. But sometimes she feels so sorry for me, she lets me do her girlfriend," Tommy said, taking out a cigarette and handing one to Pam, smiling.

Pam placed her hand on the car door, hesitant: "I think... maybe the right choice is to apologize to Carly and then go home. The gap in social status makes it hard for me to understand the daily life of a bastard like you."

And so, Tommy, who’d rather fuck LGBTQ individuals or even car exhaust pipes than touch his own wife, rushed to New York with Pam. Jim Manzi had retired and was living in New York; he was over seventy years old. When they met him, the overweight Jim was lying in the massage room of his luxurious mansion, like a doll, being meticulously given an essential oil SPA by a woman over eighty years old.

Tommy recognized that old woman as Jim’s old flame, Julia.

After Julia finished the massage and left with a kiss on Jim’s forehead, the two of them walked in: "You really are loyal, Jim, letting Julia apply oil on you for forty years without getting tired. Can’t you hire someone else to do this job? Massaging is very tiring," Tommy said.

"She came on her own, it’s not my fault!" Jim snapped as he got up irritably, sat naked on the sofa:

"She’s got Alzheimer’s, understand? Originally, she also lived in this community, was my neighbor, but every day she would think I had booked her to come to my house for a home massage service, and she would always come to my place and make me lie on the massage table. In reality, I hadn’t booked her in a long time. Her kids were sorry at first, but then something happened that made both our kids think this wasn’t simple; it was all just a misunderstanding. What could I do to an old woman in her eighties?"

"So, what did you actually do?"

"Once, I called a young massage girl to release some stress with me in bed, and it so happened my kids and Julia’s kids all saw it. They then thought, since Julia comes every day to massage me, I must be forcing her onto the bed too. They wanted me to marry Julia. I refused, and then...Julia’s kids got mad and called the police accusing me of harassing their old mom, and they moved to another district. This ankle bracelet is something Julia’s kids and mine prepared, to keep me from going to that district and harassing Julia," Jim said while raising his ankle to show them.

Only then did Tommy and Pam notice that Jim’s ankle was fitted with a small electronic monitoring device. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

"But when Julia got sick, couldn’t they stop her, an eighty-year-old lady, from driving across districts to give you a massage?" Tommy asked.

"Exactly, that’s another reason my kids want Julia to be their stepmom. They think Julia truly loves me, plus she’s very rich, very elegant, and kind, a perfect match for me, even with Alzheimer’s, she didn’t forget me. It’s so touching," Jim said as he picked up a cigar, rudely bit the cap off, and puffed out:

"But who wants to marry an old woman, even though I’m nearly eighty myself, I’m still faithful, I only like young girls. That hasn’t changed since I turned eighteen all the way up to now, at eighty."

"Me too," Pam chimed in from the side.

Tommy looked at Jim: "I’m remarrying Odelia, getting ready for a pre-wedding party."

"I can’t go. If I step out of this damn villa without reporting to my kids, the anklet will send a signal to them, telling them this old pervert is sneaking out to do something bad, maybe giving them half-siblings to split the inheritance with," Jim said with regret as he lit his cigar and took a puff.

"Why don’t you just take that thing off?" Pam walked over and looked at the electronic anklet: "Tommy’s company’s crappy information positioning product. The navy had a similar device to restrict some of the punished soldiers, it’s easy to deal with."

Jim immediately got excited, lifted his leg to show it to Pam: "Pam, if you can crack it, I’ve decided to buy all the used cars in your New York branch as a payment for unlocking it, this damn thing has been troubling me for a long time."

As Pam was examining the anklet, Tommy curiously asked Jim: "I’ve got a question, why are you willing to wear that thing? If you forcibly took it off, your kids wouldn’t do anything to you."

"Because with it on, my children agree to my request for calling in high-end escorts each week to provide home service, and they help me find girls who are willing to do home visits," Jim said with a gloomy face:

"Tommy, you don’t know, many high-class clubs in New York no longer welcome old guys my age. They’re afraid I’ll get too excited and die there. So, as humiliating as the anklet is, it allows me to enjoy a happy holiday like a kid at the weekend."

"If you anger your kids, you’re left with just Julia, which would be really painful."

Jim Manzi said seriously: "I would never touch Julia, that’s my bottom line. My dignity can take humiliation, but not the club, even if it’s about to be scrapped."

At that moment, Pam easily removed Jim’s electronic anklet without setting off any alarms, lifted it up for both to see: "Done, easier than dismantling the propeller on the Cleveland cruiser."

"Let’s go retire that club!" Jim said cheerfully, puffing hard on his cigar.