Chapter 26: A Home Away From Home

In advance of our house-hunting trip, I started doing some on-line research. I wanted to see where the Stanford campus was located, what residential areas were near, and generally what facilities were available in that part of the city. Since we would be university students trying to live cheaply, we needed to think about transportation, where to buy groceries, where to find the kind of necessities that might need a drugstore, and so on.

While I was at it, I also started perusing on-line ads for apartments, especially those primarily aimed at students. While I didn't fancy living in a 'student ghetto', I also wanted to watch out for anything that might look too much like a scam.

One ad in particular popped up in a couple of different searches, and I finally stopped to read it all the way through. It simply sounded too good to be true, so I very quickly labeled it as some kind of scam, yet it still looked very intriguing, and it started to pique my curiosity. The ad described a two-bedroom, two-story house with a full kitchen, a full bathroom and an ensuite powder room off the main bedroom. The house was labeled as 'former servants quarters' and was supposedly located on the grounds of an estate not that far from the university campus. The other amenities listed in the advertisement contributed to my doubt about the veracity of the ad, but my interest simply would not go away.

Finally, if for no other reason than pure idle curiosity, I sent a message to the listed e-mail address, since the ad was placed privately, and not with an agency of any sort. I mentioned that my fiancée and I were looking for accommodations as we would be attending Stanford University together, and were wondering if the house were still available, and if it would be suitable for a couple of university students.

Surprisingly, the next day I received a reply that seemed very friendly in nature, and that mentioned that the house was ideally located for university students, as it was only a single twenty-minute bus ride from the centre of the campus. The owner turned out to be a woman, who said she was looking forward to meeting with us, and showing the house, since there hadn't been very much interest in it.

I sent her a reply to let her know when we would be in the area, and to tell her that we would contact her at that time if we hadn't found anything that might prove more suitable. I made note of her phone number and e-mail address, but didn't seriously think that we would want to follow up on anything.

The remainder of the week flew by with plans for the trip, meetings with parents to discuss finances and living costs, and initial arrangements with each of our employers to arrange the time off for the trip. In the end, we found ourselves strapped into seats on a plane for the two-hour flight, with excitement and anticipation keeping us glued to each other. At one point, one of the flight attendants asked us if we were newlyweds since we both seemed so excited about the trip. I grinned at her, and said, "Not yet, but ask us next year and the answer will be 'Yes.'"

She laughed at the comment, and I explained why we were on the trip. She wished us both good luck, then had to hurry off to help another passenger. Later in the flight she stopped by to chat, and was able to give us some anecdotal information about various areas around Stanford, and what kinds of places we might find near to the campus.

After the flight landed and the car had been rented, we decided to head for our hotel to dump our stuff, grab some lunch, and plan our first afternoon's search for accommodations. We were both a little surprised at the hotel when my father handed me the keycard to one room, and he and her father grabbed cards for the other one. When I looked at him questioningly, he said, "One room has one bed, and the other has two. I don't feel like sleeping with you, and I'm sure your fiancée doesn't want to sleep with her father."

She reached out and took the keycard out of my hand, laughing. "I'll stay in control of this, so if you misbehave you'll be camping out in the lobby."

"I knew I should have administered that spanking on prom night." I grabbed our luggage and made my way to the elevators. Our rooms were next to each other, so staying in touch would be easy. We agreed to meet in the lobby restaurant to plan our strategy over lunch.

With food in our stomachs, we decided to drive to the campus, and then around the area in order to get a feel for the neighbourhoods, before we took a look at the first apartment on our list. The University's web site had listed an accommodations office that was open year-round, so we stopped in there to collect lists of available apartments, and maps of the areas adjacent to the campus. It seemed logical to use any information we could get our hands on, since none of us was familiar with this area of the country.

After looking over the lists and maps, we thought that the best approach would be to use an expanding spiral search, centred on the campus, as the best way to see what kinds of places we had available as rental options. It didn't take very long for us to start getting concerned about the kind of place we might be living in come September.

The first place we looked at had been advertised as '... furnished one-bedroom apartment... ' The furniture consisted of a couple of broken chairs, a wobbly-legged table, and a bed whose mattress showed stains of an unknown, but suspicious, source. To get at the next place on our list, we had to step over a sleeping wino, and watch out for the used needles that littered the alleyway outside the door. I saw at least two used condoms on the ground, so I could only imagine the kind of neighbours we'd have.

The third apartment was in what seemed to be an older but well-maintained building, until we ventured past the lobby area. One look in the apartment and I saw the shudder of revulsion that went over my love's body. When I looked past her, I saw the reason for her reaction as a large rat was doing its best to escape from our gaze.

The remainder of the afternoon went from bad to worse. At two of the places on the University's list, my Dad wouldn't even let us out of the car. Both fathers agreed that the neighbourhoods simply weren't safe, given the boarded-up buildings in evidence and the look of the people on the street.

By the time we had returned to the hotel, we were a little discouraged by what we had seen, but our fathers seemed to think that it was only a minor setback, with better possibilities ahead. Everyone's mood was better at the supper table, and we ended the evening feeling better. We were all feeling pretty tired, given the travel, the driving, and the concerns over what we had seen, so we all decided on an early night.

After climbing into bed, I wrapped my love in my arms and kissed her soundly. She made an agreeable noise low in her throat and squirmed herself into a more comfortable position, which delighted me as it rubbed her naked body all over mine. When she had settled a little, she looked at me with a slight note of concern. "I know that we've got this room all to ourselves, and both of our fathers know that we have been having sex for years, but somehow I would feel weird knowing that they are right next door, and the walls probably aren't that soundproof."

I kissed her gently, and smiled. "What matters to me is that we are, once again, going to sleep with each other rather than just waking up together. Having you here with me is what counts; an exchange of bodily fluids would be a bonus that I can forego for the moment."

She smiled happily, relieved of concern, and instead settled for some long and deep kisses. After one of them, I pulled back a little and smiled at her while brushing some of her hair off her face. "It's been two years since I first discovered how much I like kissing you, and I must admit that I like it even more. It still ranks as one of my most favourite activities."

"I love you," she said as her lips descended to mine again, and I could detect a drop of moisture on my face as a single tear escaped from one of her eyes. I hugged her closely, feeling her heart beating against my own, and knowing that I wanted this forever. Moments later, sleep overcame us both, and we spent the night in each other's arms.

I woke the next morning with a rock-hard erection, which was normal, but it was made worse by the amount of wonderful flesh that surrounded me. My face was full of her hair, but I loved the scent of her, and laid there enjoying it for the moment. Finally, the pressure from my bladder made it too painful to stay in bed, so I kissed the top of her head and began the process of extrication. In the middle of this she woke up, and her smile made everything right with the world. I pushed my needs to the back of my mind for a moment so that I could once again wrap her in my arms and indulge in silent communication via lip-to-lip contact.

She started squirming a little, and I thought for a moment she was about to overcome her concern about the proximity of her father, but when she pulled back from a kiss she grimaced and said, "As much as I love you, and this, I really need to pee."

"You had better be quick, because I was on my way to do the same thing when you woke up."

She reached to grab my rampant penis and gave it a firm squeeze. "Just tie a knot in it and I'll be as quick as I can." She giggled as she rolled over to escape the hand that was aiming for her pert buttocks, then ran the few steps to the bathroom.

While she was in there, the phone rang and my father inquired as to how much time we needed before breakfast. I told him that a half-hour should be sufficient, and that I'd knock on his door when we were ready. As I hung up the phone I heard the toilet flushing and the bathroom door opened.

The draining of my own tank took a few moments, then I started the shower and opened the bathroom door to call her in. Our shower was a little interesting, as we both knew that we wanted it to go on for a long time, and involve at least one good orgasm, but we also both knew that we were pressed for time. We did use the opportunity to make sure that the more pleasant parts were very clean, and there was sufficient fondling and caressing to light up most of the important nerve endings, but there were no orgasms, only deep kisses and lustful squeezes.

Precisely on the half-hour mark I knocked on the door of the fathers' room, and we trooped off to breakfast. Over eggs and coffee we talked about what we had seen yesterday, and looked over maps and brochures to map out the day's itinerary.

By lunchtime we were thoroughly disappointed and dispirited, as well as quite disgusted by what some people felt was adequate accommodation for university students. Any of the places that we thought might be livable were horrendously over-priced, and anything that we considered reasonable in price was not a place either of us would have wanted to live in. My father kind of summed up the experience over lunch when he said, "You know, I've seen nicer doghouses and jailhouses than some of the places we saw today."

My love and I were starting to have visions of living in separate dormitories, and I could see that she was growing despondent at the thought. As I finished my coffee, I picked up the printouts we had been working from, and one piece slid out to the side. It caught my eye, and I realized that it was the ad I had seen the previous week. Thinking that we definitely had nothing to lose anymore, I pulled it out of the stack and took my phone out of my pocket.

The others were giving me a strange look as I called a number and spoke to someone for a few moments, then said that we would be there in about an hour, and hung up. In answer to the questioning stares, I passed around the listing I had printed out, although the stares got even stronger. Her father summed up what everyone must have been thinking when he said, "You do realize that this really falls under the heading of 'too good to be true?' Nothing this good can be had at any reasonable price, and I notice that there is no price quoted. Are you sure this isn't just a gigantic waste of time and gas?"

"I've asked myself all of the same questions, and for some reason this place just keeps popping into mind. I have no idea what we'll find, or what it is likely to cost, but given all the crap we've looked at so far, I think we owe it to ourselves to at least go and look."

He tossed his napkin down and said, "Well, I'm game if you are, if for no other reason than I might get the chance to say, 'I told you so' before the day is out." Even my love was looking at me questioningly, but we climbed back into the car and drove toward the address I had been given.

The neighbourhood was filled with large houses, mature trees, and wide, but very quiet streets. The address we arrived at started out with a wide driveway that ended at an imposing and very tall black gate. The rest of the property was enclosed by a combination of stone pillars and wrought iron that seemed to go on forever; the next closest house looked to be at least a hundred feet away. There was a speaker on a post beside the driveway, and my Dad pressed the button, then announced us to the voice that answered. A moment later, the gate swung open, revealing the next section of the driveway, flanked by towering trees.

We drove slowly along the red brick of the driveway, marveling at the grounds that were revealed, and finally seeing the house as we cleared some of the trees. I heard a gasp from beside me as the house came into view; in truth, the word 'house' was completely inadequate, as the building could have been used as a mid-size hotel. There were columns, and stone lions, and gothic arches, and even some stained glass here and there. The grandeur was obvious, and even more obvious was the fact that this house was not in need of repair; it had a look of loving, caring maintenance about it, as if someone wanted it to continue in its majesty for a long time.

As we pulled up in front of the grand staircase, one of a pair of huge wooden doors opened, and a woman walked out to wait for us at the top of the stairs. She was dressed in slacks and a mannish shirt, with sneakers on her feet. In her right hand was a walking stick with a silver lion as its handle, and I noted that she seemed to walk with a slight limp.

We quickly got out of the car, but spent a moment or two gawking at the magnificence of the building before us. The woman seemed used to this kind of behavior, as she smiled at us like the bumpkins we seemed to be, then directed her gaze at me. "You seem to be the young man I was talking to. Hi, I'm Rhonda. When you get over the shock, please feel free to come up."

I smiled at her a little sheepishly, then reached for my fiancée's hand and headed toward the staircase. Our fathers realized we were on the move and hastened to join us, after one last gawking glance at the building. At the top of the stairs, I held my hand out and introduced all of us to Rhonda. Her grip was warm, and very firm, and she held my eyes for a moment or two, a little longer than I would have expected. My love received more than a passing glance, and I had the feeling that she was being sized up by this woman, and not being found wanting, but quite the opposite.

Our fathers greeted her warmly, and complimented her on the look of the house and its grounds. Her father asked if Rhonda had lived there for long.

"I've had this place for about ten years. It originally belonged to a couple who had descended from one of California's original families. At one time, the land holdings included everything around here; all of the houses in this area are built on land that used to be part of this estate. Over the decades, the land was divided and sold, largely to provide money for the upkeep of the estate, and to pay the workers and servants who lived and worked here." She motioned us to follow her as she started inside, and continued her story about the house as we got to marvel at the grand entrance and sweeping staircases inside.

"The previous owners and I were ... business associates. He and his wife were killed in a plane crash, and I discovered that he had left me the place in his will, since they had no other family of their own. I was seriously thinking about selling it, since I didn't think I could afford to keep it. Just as I was about to put it on the market, I was in a motorcycle accident that laid me up for months. The other driver was at fault, and with California lawyers, I ended up with a huge settlement. It meant I could afford to keep the place, so I moved in and fell in love with it." The opulence of the house was breathtaking, and we all had open mouths as we wandered over marble floors and past intricate wood carvings on the handrails of the staircases and the cabinetry along the walls.

As we reached the end of the hallway, she opened a set of glass doors and ushered us out to the rear terrace. A table under an awning was set with snacks and drinks, and she invited us to eat and drink whatever we liked. "For the first seven or eight years that I was here, there was a live-in couple who sort of came with the house. The husband was kind of my handyman, and his wife looked after the cleaning and much of the cooking. She was always chasing me out of 'her kitchen' and I was always trying to point out to her that since I owned the house, it was actually my kitchen. I like to cook, and I'm pretty good at it, but she ruled that roost."

At a look from me she laughed and said, "Oh, don't take me the wrong way. We got along like a house afire, and we had a lot of fun in the kitchen, even though you wouldn't think it to listen to the two of us." Her look softened, and a flash of something serious moved across her face. "She died about two years ago, from breast cancer, and I felt like a piece of me had been torn out. Her husband left shortly after that; I could see that most of the life had gone out of him. He moved to the East Coast to live with his daughter." She took a drink to help calm the memories, then continued with her story.

"The estate came with a second little house, over there at the back of the lot. It was originally intended as a sort of guest house, but the caretaker couple always lived there, rather than in the main house. It gave all of us a little more privacy. Since they left, the house has been empty, although I've made sure to have it cleaned and aired out on a regular basis, so there's no musty smell to it, or raccoons living in the attic. I decided that having a perfectly good house sit empty was kind of stupid, so I decided to rent it out."

"And I gather that's why we are now all sitting here in your yard, eating your food?" Rhonda raised an eyebrow at me, and the look she gave me made me wonder if I had overstepped somehow.

"Please, don't be offended by him. He is a loutish brute and has few manners at the best of times. I am desperately hoping that I will be able to polish off the rough edges and someday be able to let him out in public."

Rhonda burst out laughing at the remark, and whatever tension I may have caused simply disappeared. She looked sideways at me once again, but just shook her head and smiled. "No offense, but I thought you might have been a bit of a smartass. I have a feeling I'm right, but I don't mind. I'm sure she can keep you in your place." Everyone laughed at the last remark, then Rhonda took up her narrative once more.

"As the ad said, the house has two bedrooms, plus the usual living room and full kitchen. There's also a small dining room, and a den. There's a full bathroom upstairs, a powder room attached to the bigger bedroom, and another powder room off the mud room at the back on the main floor. The place also has its own private backyard with a few flowerbeds. All the usual appliances are there, and they all work well; they're just turned off right now."

My Dad spoke up at this point. "I have to say, especially given what we've seen so far, that this all seems a little too good to be true. I imagine what you're asking in rent would simply put the place out of reach." I was surprised at how tactfully my father had swung the topic around to the issue of money, and I was afraid of what Rhonda's answer would be.

She looked at my love and I for a moment, seemingly weighing and measuring us, then swung her gaze to my father. "I'm not interested in making that much money from it, which is one of the reasons why I didn't put a price in the ad, and why I suggested that it might be suitable for students at the University. I know what it's like to be broke, and people trying to study for their future shouldn't be having to worry about where their next meal is coming from." She named a figure that nearly made my jaw drop, as it amounted to about fifty percent more than the monthly cost of a standard dorm room, without any of the amenities she was offering.

My Dad raised a quizzical eyebrow, and asked, "Are you sure? That certainly seems much less than you could get for it on the open market."

"Like I said, I'm not out to get rich from it, but I hate seeing it go empty. I also don't want to just advertise it, because you never know who you're going to get."

"But, you don't know who we are either. We could be serial killers just putting on a good front." I grinned, and said, "Remember, she's already told you that I'm a loutish brute with no manners."