Chapter 5: Vacation is over

No matter how I tried, I could not find out what Mrs. Collingsworth had meant when she asked when I was going to receive my reward. She'd made it sound mysterious, and Suzanne did nothing to clear it up for me.

"I don't know. It must be something the investors are planning."

Wanda, whose mother was one of the investors, claimed she didn't know anything either. "Don't you think I'd tell you if I knew something, Sammy? My mother never talks to me about what is discussed at those meetings, and I'm her only daughter."

I put the reward out of my mind, and concentrated on enjoying my leisure time with Megan.

This was Megan's first trip to Florida and I wanted to show her the various reasons my parents were building a vacation home here. We went on day trips, took in the attractions, but we mainly stayed by the pool in the backyard of the house I'd rented.

Eventually, Megan went topless for a few days before shedding the bottoms also. She said it was to get me to stop pestering her about buying another bikini, but I believe it was her adventurous side coming out.

I took her to see the new house. It was about noontime on Saturday, and the workers were just leaving for the day. I introduced her to Philippe Mendoza. He was extremely courteous to Megan, telling her to ignore the prying eyes of his workmen, and cautioned us to be careful, and to lock up when we left.

We entered through the double doors. "This hallway will be tiled, all the way to the back door," I began.

"It's wide, and just look at the size of the hall closet!" Megan exclaimed.

"The layout is similar to the house at home; only some of the rooms are smaller or have a different purpose than the ones a home. For instance, these two rooms would be our living room. The one on the right is the reception area, and the one on the left is a work room."

Megan looked into both rooms before asking, "Reception and work room?"

"This is the business end of the house. I'm coming to think that my parents intend to spend a lot of time here. In addition to entertaining business associates, the work room is going to be set up as a communication center. See how many electrical outlets, telephone jacks, and cable blocks there are? I envision equipment around the perimeter, and a small conference table in the center."

Megan nodded, and we went back into the hall. "Our front door at home would be to the left, but here, we've got an oversized bathroom. The stairs would be to the right at home. Here, we have a hallway leading to the sleeping wing. I'll show you the bedrooms later.

"The room on the right is my dad's study, just like at home, only this one is not as big. On the left is the formal dining room, only this one is larger than the one at home.

"Next, on the left, is the kitchen. It's set up the same as the one at home, with a breakfast counter and a pantry. The room to the right is the sunroom. It's the same size as the one at home, but the swimming pool is closer to the French doors than at home. We've attached a tent to the back of the sunroom at home to accommodate crowds. We won't be able to do that here. Guests would wind up in the pool."

"Is that hole in the ground going to be the pool?" Megan asked.

"Yes, and those skids of tile are to be used to line the pool."

She nodded, looking impressed. I took her to the back door and pointed out the hallway to its left, which was to serve as a passageway to a single car garage.

"The garage is so we can leave a car here. At home, the garage is a free standing building with space for six cars and Ned and Penelope's apartment above."

"Six cars?"

"Don't look shocked. We don't have that many cars. Ned uses some of the space to store tools, lawn furniture and equipment."

We went back to the hallway leading to the sleeping wing. "We only had space for four bedrooms. They're smaller than the ones at home, but we won't be spending as much time in our rooms as we do at home."

"Which one is going to be yours?" she asked.

"It's the one in the back corner. I'll be sharing the bath with the guest room."

Megan entered the room, opened the closet door, and peeped into the bathroom before turning to me. "Want to?"

"What?"

"Christen it. You'll be able to always remember that I was your first conquest in this room."

I hesitated. The floor had a layer of dust from the wallboard, and there was a stack of hardwood flooring in the center of the room. Should I take her up on her offer? Would I hurt her feelings if I turned her down?

"Let's go for it," I said, removing my shirt and reaching for my belt.

"Sammy ... you didn't think I was serious, did you?" she asked, looking shocked at the thought of rolling around on the dusty plywood floor.

Ah, she was teasing me again. How did I miss that?

"On your knees, Woman," I said, dropping my short pants to the floor.

"You're not going to make me ... the floor is filthy."

"Megan, you're a college graduate and smart as hell. You're also old enough to know that if you tease a guy it may backfire."

"I know, Sammy."

"Look, I'm aroused. You should know that you can't get a guy aroused, and then walk away without there being consequences."

I was pretty sure that she knew I was making an idle threat. She proved that by the way she played along.

"What if... ?"

"Yes?"

"What if I make it up to you?" she asked, confident now, all outward signs of apprehension having disappeared from her face.

"What do you have in mind?"

"You name it. I'll do anything you suggest as long as its not here in this ... place."

"Megan, the disgust you're showing of my future room may leave me with irrepressible memories of your visit to my room. You don't know the damage you're doing to my opinion of myself."

"Sammy, if you'll take me back to the house, I assure you that I'll restore your self confidence. If you like, I'll let the lady that lives in the back watch me strip down in broad daylight, suck your cock, and let you fuck me doggy style."

"I don't know, Megan. That would mean that I would have to strip down, too. You're a lot more adventuresome than me when it comes to nudity."

Exasperated, Megan stepped out of her sneakers, removed her T-shirt and bra, dropped her shorts, and lay on her back on the filthiest spot on the floor. "You win, Sammy," she said without a trace of resentment in her voice. "Take off your shorts and fuck me right here."

"You didn't take off your panties."

"You do it. I know it gives you a feeling of power over the woman."

"I didn't say that. What I said was that it's a sexy way for a girl to express herself."

"Whatever," she said, looking at the way her clothes were absorbing the drywall dust.

I made sure we rolled around and got our bodies covered with the white dust. We got it in our hair and in our lungs. We ended up exhausted, but I'm not sure either of us climaxed. I know I didn't. We put on the minimal amount of clothing, and drove back to the house without speaking a word.

After showering, and washing our hair, Megan followed me outside, without objecting to our being nude.

I kissed her. She noticed I was getting an erection and kept glancing at the house behind us.

"I'm not sure which room is going to be mine. We're going to have to do that three more times," I informed her.

"We are NOT!" she said, emphatically.

Megan looked down at my cock, saw that it was rigid, and took it in her hand. "Sammy, I'll fuck you right here, but I'm not getting dirty with you again and that's final."

I lifted her ass. She lined up my cock with her slit, and locked her ankles behind my thighs.

"Sammy, what are you doing?" she asked when I took the first step toward the pool. I took another step, and she became alarmed. "Sammy, you're not going to..."

I jumped into the water and we came up laughing, still fully joined. Megan held on, and we made it back to the side where we had very intense sex. Her backside was hitting the wall with such force that I don't know what kept me from hurting her. Perhaps it was the water that absorbed some of the shock.

When I released my cum inside her, I took stock of our position. I had one hand under her ass and was using the other one to cling to the side of the pool. Megan's ankles were locked behind me, her arms were around my neck, and she was kissing me between gasps for air.

"I don't care if she saw us," Megan said, as we disentangled ourselves.

"You're a good sport," I complimented her.

"I've had fun. Every time with you is fun."

"Even when we're rolling around on the floor in drywall dust?"

"Not so much, but you're a fun guy. I'll never forget you."

I didn't know what to make of that statement. It sounded ... final. I knew she was speaking to her mother almost daily. It came to a head a couple of days later when I returned after visiting the construction site. Megan was in tears.

"What's wrong? Is your mother still insisting that you come home?"

She shook her head, trying to hold back the tears, but losing the battle.

"What then?"

"She came to pick up the inventory. You have to sign it."

I knew immediately what had happened.

"What did she say that made you so upset?" I asked, knowing Megan would not become flustered simply because an older woman came to collect the inventory.

"She said that you ... she said I can't ... I don't do you as well."

"Come on, Megan. What did she tell you that made you upset?"

Megan composed herself, sort of. "She asked if I let you fuck me in the ass, and when I shook my head, she told me that you liked to fuck her ass."

"That's a lie," I said, but Megan was bawling so hard that she didn't hear me.

I found the inventory, perused it briefly, and signed it before driving to the realty office.

Adeline was on the phone, and the same coworkers I'd seen before were pretending to be busy when they saw me walk in.

"Hang up!" I demanded, banging the inventory down on her desk with such a force that it shook the desk. Adeline looked up at me, startled.

"Hang up!" I repeated.

The male coworker got up from his seat, as if to intervene.

"SIT!" I shouted at the man.

"Do as he says, Larry" Adeline told her coworker, placing the receiver in its cradle.

"Why did you tell my girlfriend a lie? You know I never fucked you in the ass. You must be confused. It must have been someone else."

Adeline looked nervously at her coworkers before standing up, defiantly refusing to take any of my shit.

"You could have. You know you could have, don't you?"

Surprisingly, she had a point. She would have done anything I ask her to do. I nodded, and watched her smile with satisfaction, like she'd won a round.

"Your little college girl won't let you fuck her ass, will she?"

I was tense, and felt edginess in the room. A ringing telephone distracted me. The other female answered and I heard her say, "She's busy right now."

"Who is it?" Adeline asked.

This caused me to recover. "Never mind who it is. I want you to write on a sheet of paper that it never happened, sign your confession and date it today."

Adeline looked through me, and asked the coworker who was calling.

I banged on her desk again. She jumped. "Take out a clean sheet of paper. Write the following words..."

Adeline laughed at me, sneered really. "I'm not confessing to anything."

I took a deep breath. "Let me tell you what's going to happen if you don't begin writing the words I tell you to write."

"Come on, Sammy. I've had things done to me that you never thought of doing. Leave before I have to tell you about some of those things I've had done to me."

"Have you watched your daughters being fucked? If I leave without your confession, I'll seduce your daughters and make you watch me fuck them."

"You ... wouldn't ... I know you wouldn't do that ... you only met Delores once. You don't know my older daughter. She has a boyfriend."

"Do you doubt me, Adeline? Are you daring me to seduce Delores first? After a couple of times with me, I'll make her show mommy how much she enjoys fucking me. I'll get her to introduce me to Marilyn. I'll make Marilyn toss her boyfriend aside. You'll come home some afternoon; see my car parked in front of your house, and rush in to find me fucking Marilyn. I'll have her programmed to say, 'Hi, mommy, watch Sammy fuck me.' She'll be so..."

"Stop! Please stop. What do you want me to write? I'll sign anything you tell me to write."

Tears were streaming down Adeline's face, spreading her makeup to look like a dirt road after a rain. As I told her what to write, I turned to watch her coworkers' reactions.

"Would you like to hear the despicable things Adeline's had done to her?"

Neither of them responded, and I didn't press them. Adeline handed me the piece of paper. I checked the content, her signature and the date. The confession seemed to be in order.

"One more visit from you and you can warn your daughters I'm coming to see them. Understand?"

Adeline was unable to speak. I took her nod to mean that she agreed with me.

The confession did little to console Megan. She told me that she never doubted my word, but I knew Adeline's visit had shaken her.

I waited a couple of days before coming home to find her sunbathing in the nude. She turned over and smiled up at me.

"Get ready, we're going shopping," I said.

She didn't argue with me. We found a dress that I liked, except for the color.

"Is it Kelley?" she asked.

I nodded.

"That's not Kelley green. It's a much lighter shade," the clerk was quick to say.

"We know," Megan explained. "Sammy had a girlfriend named Kelley. She wore every shade green imaginable. He doesn't want to see me in anything green."

We settled on a dress of the same style, but in a light yellow. The material was sheer, and the dress clung to Megan's body like a glove.

I kept her in the dark until we stopped in front of the club in the community where the house was being built. I'd only been there once. It was the previous spring when we decided to build the house. That was the week I'd had the bad experience on the beach. It was also the week I met Adeline, and stopped seeing Kelley.

This was a much smaller club than the one where Mr. Oldham and Suzanne were members back at home. It was set up differently. The person at the front desk did not recognize me, and I couldn't blame her. I'd been in a fog the other time I was there, and didn't remember much about that visit.

Fortunately, the manager recognized me. Although he was a little old for the part, Mr. Fernandez was what I considered the prototype for a Latin lover. He smiled when it was appropriate; he spoke fluent English, barked vulgar commands in Spanish to his workers, and gave us his assurance that we would receive excellent care. He was especially attentive to Megan. He made her blush when he told me that I was a lucky man.