Chapter 38

Tuesday, the bar Laudermist was in the second day of a two day closing. The staff refurbished. A few of the older barmaids began to pack up for a months paid vacation. No amount of tips was worth dealing with college kids. The walls behind the stainless steel urinals were reinforced with a half inch of welded steel.

The fence enclosing Laudermist’s sand beach was erected. During normal business, it didn’t matter ... for the coming month that 200 feet wide stretch of sand from high tide to the bar would be jealously guarded ... wrist band wearing fingerprinted 19 year old customers only. Don’t lose the band ... don’t loan it out. No band? wade or walk around.

Bobby and the Spur arrived at the scene of the approaching storm. They moved into the warehouse storage building with the instruments.

Bobby, Tommy and George, following my directions, found my house. They were vetted by the Del Lago gate guards. Photos were taken and posted in the guard shacks.

The first thing Bobby said, “Good God, Almighty, Karen ... Hi Hilda, Bethanne ... you bought this?”

“Yeah, like it?” I said, “Did ya see the boat?”

“Just now. Can we go aboard?” Tommy said.

“Holler first, I don’t know where the rest of the girls are.”

Essie said, “The girls are on the roof patio teasing the neighbors. I think Mel and Mona were cleaning the boat. They should be done.”

Tommy and George took off to the boat.

“Bobby, you have GOT to see the garage,” I said. “C’mon. I’ll show you. Essie ... does Mel have the God Gun?”

Essie reached in her pocket and handed me the garage door opener. “Lunch is at two ... is everybody staying?”

“Bobby?”

“Yeah. Miss Essie. If it’s not an inconvenience, we’d love to stay.”

We walked out the kitchen door. “Bobby. Don’t use the front door again. I hate putting the butler out. Kitchen door is good enough.”

“Okay.”

We walked past the 1934 Cadillac Cunningham 10 passenger shooting brake. The Cunningham gets left out because the garage is full. Bobby looked the question.

“I bought it when I got here ... none of the Rent-a-car agencies will rent to a minor. It was in the Auto Trader listed with the limousines. Twenty four hundred. I couldn’t pass it up. Mel is going to start on the body work soon. The damn thing has a 454 under the hood.”

We walked around the corner of the garage. Bobby sprung an instant woody.

The Cobra and Mel were getting a bath ... Mel was giving the Cobra a wash and it’s hot. She was wearing those jean shorts and that man’s shirt tied up under her breasts. When we walked around the corner she had the hose stuck up between her breasts. The hose was bubbling and she was getting a drink ... the only way it could have been more suggestive would be if the hose was a banana. The soaking wet shirt was invisible.

Mel should be in Playboy.

Bobby choked. Mel slowly turned to face us. She took another sip ... laving her tongue over the surface of the water. She pulled the hose out from between her breasts and ran her hand up to the water, caressing the hose as she did so.

Bobby had an accident in his pants.

I doubt he noticed. She turned and stretched over the hood and wiggled her ass.

It was totally contrived and completely natural. I’d never seen anything like it.

“Washing the car, Mistress,” she said.

“Try and get some of the water on the paint,” I said.

“Yes, Mistress.”

George and Tommy walked around the corner. George stopped dead in his tracks. Mel noticed him and blushed beet red.

“Get some clothes on ... or take those off, slut.”

“Yes, sir.” She started stripping on the spot.

“Bend.”

“Yes Sir!”

George pulled out his belt and I’ll bet the neighbors across the water heard the smack of leather across her butt.