Chapter 16: Turf Builder

Several times, now, Ella and Phil have hosted the club. They were discreet and kept Dan out of their activities, not wanting the incest to be more widely known. Along with the hose parade that kicked off the festivities, Phil was happily joining in when Marcia, the female member, asked for double penetration volunteers. DP was her favorite thing at club events after the sloppy beginning. After some coaching, Ella was becoming addicted as well.

“Phil and Dan can DP me, too!” she thought, eagerly.

On a sunny afternoon, Phil walked out and surveyed the backyard grass. There were several ugly spots where urination had overcome the turf.

“I’m going to ask at the links. They must have an expert to keep the fairways and greens so lush and green.”

Phil was lousy at golf and didn’t want to pay the high membership fees at the country club. Instead, he was a restricted member, which gave him access only to the driving range and the putting green. He owned only two clubs: a $200 driver and a $100 putter.

Asking around, he was connected with Scott MacEwan and arranged for him to visit. Ella offered him refreshments when he arrived; he asked only for a glass of ice water. Ella was struck by how good looking Scott was. He was tall, red-haired, and well-built. A spray of pale freckles across his face added to his appeal. One other thing, he had a “Scottish Burr” accent to his speech.

Scott thanked her and took the glass outside. Ella and Phil watched him traverse the large lawn, making comments to himself. He also stopped a couple of times to take a swallow from his hip flask, followed by a good drink of the cold water.

“Gotta be whiskey,” observed Phil.

When he returned, they sat on the patio loungers.

“What’s the verdict, Mr. MacEwan?” Phil asked.

“Please, call me Scott. So, how many dogs do you have?”

Phil thought quickly.

“Zero. But we foster our friend’s Great Danes when he’s traveling. We pick up the solid waste but can’t do anything about the urine.”

“That explains the damage. I can fix this, though. They don’t call me the ‘Turf Builder’ for nothing. Before I give you an estimate, I have a suggestion. You need to alter your mower so the blade(s) are three centimeters—sorry, one inch higher. Your lawn will still be attractive, but a little more length is much healthier. So, let’s see, you have about a third of an acre in this lawn...”

They agreed on a price, and Scott got to work right away.

Two weeks later, he happened to arrive about half an hour early. Ella had checked the clock and rushed out topless, dropped her skimpy nylon shorts, and squatted on a greener spot of grass. Just then, Scott passed through their side gate and came up to the corner of the house.

Seeing Ella, he watched as her stream trickled to a stop. Then he announced himself.

“Ella?”

“EEK!”

She jumped to her feet, then realized her shorts were down at her ankles. Hurriedly, she reached down to pull them up, then faced him with her arm across her breasts.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to spy, I’m a few minutes early, I know. I guess there aren’t really any Great Danes, are there?”

“Yeah. Besides me and Phil, we also have friends coming out here too. It’s hard on the grass, I know.”

“That’s why I go piss at the back of your property, where the trees are. They don’t mind it like the grass does. Actually, would you mind fetching me another glass of ice water while I go back there and water those thirsty trees?”

“No fucking way, Scott. It’s only fair, we’ll go together. This time, I can watch YOU.”

Ella dropped her arm, took his hand, and they strolled across the lawn toward the back fence.