Chapter 2: Deck

The following Saturday morning Ken showed up with a load of wood and supplies in his pickup truck. He took apart the old deck and determined that the place where it attached to the house would still be usable. Per our agreement, I kept him supplied with iced tea (my special blend, one bag of Sleepytime tea added to the pot for flavor), and that afternoon we all went to the dump to unload the old wood. Becky thought it was great fun.

Sunday, he seemed to spend almost the whole day measuring and making notes, and then measuring some more. When I brought him some more tea at one point, he was staring at the house with the plans we'd printed in one hand. They were covered in notes.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm stepping through it all in my head."

"Why? Do you know what you're doing?"

"Yeah mostly. But I'm not a professional builder. I'm stepping through it in my head to make sure I know how this is going to work."

"Are you sure I shouldn't get a professional?"

"Relax, okay. Just because I need to think about it, doesn't mean I can't do it. It just means that I have to think about it."

By the end of the day the only thing that had been accomplished (that I could see) was that the supports were up. I tried not to say anything since he was paying for it all, but I was starting to get skeptical.

The following Saturday Ken was a whirlwind of activity. By lunch the deck was framed and by dinnertime it had railings and steps. By dinnertime on Sunday we had a deck. I was impressed.

"Becky sweetie," Ken said, "Don't go out on the deck this week bare-footed, okay? It still needs to be finished."

"It looks finished," Becky countered.

"Not that kind of finished," said Ken brightly, "I need to put finishing on it. That means I need to treat the wood to make it smooth and protect it from the rain. But first I need to let the wood breath for a few days."

The following weekend didn't look to be fun, at all. He was covered in dust from the sanding and the mask, for the fumes when he treated the wood, was really hot and uncomfortable. On Sunday night, a week before Memorial Day, I had a new deck. It was perfect.

Ken showered at my house while I put Becky to bed. God I was horny. His sweat and smell combined with the anticipation of the following weekend had me squeezing my thighs together all day. If he had any fantasies of being raped, I'm sure I fulfilled them that night. As we lay in bed afterward I was thinking of the following weekend.

"Mom and Dad said they would pick Becky up from school on Friday. I just have to notify the office when I drop her off that morning."

"Good. You ready for this?"

"Well yes, but I'm nervous."

"It'll be fine, just remember that I love you."

"No pain, right?"

"Maybe a little spanking, but I won't harm you."

"Hmm," I wasn't sure about that. "So how's this going to work?"

"Do you have any black high-heels that you can wear for a while without hurting your feet?"

"I've got one pair that's pretty comfortable, but the heels aren't real high."

"That's fine. I just want enough heel to sculpt your legs and butt, without hurting your feet."

"That it?"

"No. When you go shopping this week get a big bottle of conditioner and a small hair waxing kit."

"Hair waxing!?"

"Just relax. Trust me?"

"Okay," I grumbled.

"I'll take care of everything else. Call me when you get home from work on Friday and I'll tell you what to do."