Her Seaside Property

I claim editing errors for myself. Started as a flash story, then grew, so there may be some flaws I missed. If you have read any of my writing, you know what to expect. If you haven't, well, hope you enjoy it all the same.

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"I think I should get home. The trick-or-treaters will be coming around soon, and I don't want to be late." Her statement was a bit of lie, he knew; the younger kids had gone out this afternoon and did their begging form five until dark. She had already missed that window of opportunity. Older teens went from darkness until around nine, and he really doubted that she gave a shit about them. It was almost nine now.

The 'she' in question was Bernadette Jenkins, a buxom raven-haired beauty fifteen years his senior. Age had never really mattered to him when it came to women or property. Both were there for the taking. Eric Johnson was trying to make the best of the situation. For two weeks now he had been using his normally tried and true full court press to get into Bernadette's portfolio as well as her panties. Lunch dates to discuss the potential sale of her ocean front property had gone nowhere and, until tonight, she wouldn't see him after dark. He did his best work after dark.

She was in somewhat dire straits financially. She was having problems with supplies for her online business and had thought about selling the house despite it being in her house for generations. Once he had that wedge, Eric pressed the point, explaining how the sale of the house could eliminate her monetary concerns. His initial probing had also revealed that she had a boyfriend, a fact which had never deterred him before. Especially not with this much money on the line.

And now he had done it. Finally gotten a dinner date to 'discuss further options, one way or another', and somehow screwed it up. Maybe too much wine for her, or too much scotch for him. Just what, 'it' was he did not know, but she was suddenly distant. As he fished out his wallet to pay the bill, he tried his patented charm once again. "I'll get the car-" he started.

"No, that's okay." He was getting tired of those words from her. "My property actually abuts the restaurant parking lot, so it's actually quicker if I walk."

"Those boots don't look like they were made for walking long distances," he commented. He nodded in response and walked her out to the parking lot. "Look, Bernadette, about what I said back there..."

"It's not you, Eric. Well, maybe it is. I wasn't... I'm not looking for a romantic relationship. I'm very happy in the one I have. I'm just looking for a way to survive, and I thought about... well, I need to do what I need to do. I think now that putting that sign up in my yard may have been a bit premature. I had a few nibbles, but after talking to you I've realtors calling me with offers morning, noon, and night. You must have let it slip that I was thinking of selling through a reality, and word got out. Now I'm getting so many calls at the house that I had to take the phone off the hook. I think you talk too much."

He knew exactly who was to blame. Fucking Daryl, Eric thought. He must have been eavesdropping again and spread the word. Now all the sharks were circling, despite the care Eric had taken to keep the relationship quiet. Perhaps if this night had gone better, his charm could have worked.

He smiled to himself that she had been upset about the realty comments, and not the innuendos had had been dropping about her body. The sweater. The skirt. Her lips. His cock.

Did she ever wear the boots when she had sex? The scotch had loosened his tongue, surely, but she hadn't shut down that topic.

Eric stopped at his car and grabbed a beach blanket he carried in the trunk. "Any chance I would walk you back, then? Maybe sit and listen to the waves crash? It is a full moon tonight, and I wouldn't want you attacked by any werewolves on my watch."

"A full moon hidden by clouds; you mean." She gave him one of her rare smiles. "I guess so. Just to be safe from the werewolves, should the moon come out. Ghosts and vampires too, I hope. It is Halloween, after all."

"From all manner of beast, I promise."

Eric got a chance to admire her figure once again as she walked before him on the narrow path. Snug black skirt with an oversized sweater, black nylons and knee-high leather boots. With her hair as black as it was, it was all he could do keep her in sight in the darkness. The sandy path would occasionally widen, allowing him the chance to walk beside her, if it could be called walking, but his attempts at conversations were quickly rebuffed. It was more like meandering; she kept stopping to look at the rocks or plants that dotted the bluffs.

"I have to tell you, you have me a little worried with all this talk of other realtors," he finally said, pushing her talk even if she did not want to. "I'd hoped that we had something more than a realtor-client relationship."

As if on cue, the moon escaped the clouds, lighting up the clearing they had just stepped into.

"We might be friends, I guess," she said tentatively, "but I don't even know if I want to sell. Must we constantly talk about my house?

"You see those trees over there? Those are Devil's Apples. Not good for much, but they are exceedingly rare, and worth a lot to the right person. They had to be cultivated, you know. The fruit has no seeds. Same with that one, there. Midnight Mint. Those little green leaves on the plant can be crushed to make a tea to bring down fevers and increase blood circulation. I think it was the inspiration for Viagra. And this sand, well, you would think that it couldn't grow anything more than apples and tea, and it can't, but it feels really good between your bare toes. It's much finer than normal coastal sand; almost a powder." She sighed.

"I could make sure this all gets preserved after you sell. A special garden sanctuary. If you want."

"I guess I'm not sure I am ready to give this all up after all. Maybe I should take the offer from the conservation place and go back to farming it. But you just keep pushing, don't you?"

"Then I will stop trying to convince you to," Eric lied. She was almost ready to give the entire estate up for seven hundred thousand when, developed properly, it could be worth tens of millions. "What would it take for me to reassure you?"

She tilted her head and gave him a grin. "I don't know..."

"How about a kiss?" His arm slipped around her waist, drawing her in. He could smell the wine on her breath as his lips touched hers."

She draped her arms over his shoulders, pressing her blood red lips against his so quickly that he was taken completely off guard. Her lips parted, her tongue probing as she sought more than a simple peck.

It was the first sign of physical attraction she had shown since they met. Eric finally responded, pulling her in tight as their tongues battled for dominance.

She pushed away, blushing. "I shouldn't. I can't. I have a boyfriend!"

"It was just a kiss between two friends, nothing more. But I can tell that there is something more that you want right now, isn't there?" He hadn't let her go, but he wasn't pulling her in any closer.

"You're very attractive, Eric, but -"

"Sometimes you just need to go with the flow, Bernadette. I think you're beautiful, and sexy, and that there is so much more that this world has to offer you, if only you would take the chance."

Her eyes met his again, and she stepped in close for another kiss. When they separated, she said, "I'm no schoolgirl, Eric, I recognize a seduction when I see it."

He gave his best 'who, me?' grin.

"Looks like that tongue of yours can do more than say things about my house or my tits. That's not what I'm looking for at this moment, though. Why don't you show me what a realtor has to offer other than a quick sell?"

With a flick of her hand she undid his belt. "You know, something I can dream about while I relax in that condo you promised you would find for me."

Eric kicked off his shoes, squirming out of his underwear and pants while she stood next to him. He was unbuttoning his shirt when he realized that she was just standing there, staring. "Something wrong?"

"No, not at all. I just want a good look at you before we start. This won't ruin our client/patient relationship, will it?"

He laughed. "I'm good at keeping them separate, trust me." He realized too late that the comment made it sound like he slept with a lot of his perspective buyers and sellers. With a shrug he dropped the last of his clothing into the pile and, not knowing where to put his hands, placed them on his hips like Superman. She approached, lightly tracing her hands over his cooling flesh as she walked around him.

"You must work out a lot, Eric." She slipped in, giving him a playful nip on the neck as she passed behind him, and he jumped when she grabbed his butt cheeks. "Very firm."

Eric felt like a piece of meat. He turned to reach out for her, but she danced back. "You'll get your turn if you do what I say. Now, no touching. I want to see if you can back up all that bragging you did during dinner. Don't say anything though, okay?"

Stepping to the edge, Bernadette crossed her arms and grabbed the bottom of her sweater, lifting it up and over her head in a single gesture. Eric was surprised to see that she was in a black satin basque that looked to be a size too small to hold her generous breasts. With a flick of the zipper she dropped the skirt, placing both at the edge of the open area. His cock, which had already been growing hard at the thought of being with this beautiful woman, stiffened even more when she revealed panties that matched the basque, as well as a black garter belt to hold up her stockings.

"Now, don't move until I tell you. Okay?" He eyed her suspiciously as she stepped behind him and crouched down. Dragging her fingertips in a teasing, tickling way up his legs, he felt his cock begin to pulse as his body tried to force more blood into it. As her hands reached his hips he started to turn, but she smacked away his hands as he reached for her. "What did I say?"

"Sorry," he grinned.

"And keep quiet while you're at it. That's especially important."

She sank down again and started the process again, this time pushing his legs apart a little more as she reached his engorged cock. With the middle finger of her hand extended to reach between his cheeks as her other hand wrapped around his dick, and she began giving him slow, purposeful strokes.

"Shh," she said, when a moan escaped his lips. "I said to keep quiet. You wouldn't want some passing werewolf or vampire to find us, would you? Who knows, maybe they used to summon demons here, and your cries of pleasure would attract a lonely succubus."

He chuckled in response, and whispered, "No, wouldn't want that."

She dipped again, taking more time to slip her hands around his legs as she teased him. The feeling lingered, and Eric closed his eyes to lose himself in the experience. She kept her stroking brief this time, continuing her exploration upwards to caress his nipples. Her hot breath slipped over his neck, reminding him that the October air had quite a chill to it.

Eric's breath was becoming ragged as she started again, and this time the feelings lingered even longer, so that it felt like her hands were still tickling his ankles as his knees were stroked, and his ass relaxed to her touch as his cock was again soothingly stroked. He could feel her breasts brush against his back as she gently tweaked his nipples, and her teeth nipped at his ear as her tongue swirled the sensitive flesh. He let out another moan, and she pulled her mouth away.

"I told you already," she said in a slightly irritated voice, "not to make any noise. You'll ruin everything."

Her voice was loud but distant, and his eyes flicked open to see what was happening.

Bernadette knelt at the blanket at edge of the illuminated clearing; legs spread as she gently touched the front of her panties. She was staring at him, her mouth open and her breaths coming in short little gasps.

The stroking of his body hadn't stopped, and Eric jerked his head away from the sensation at his ear to look down. He had sunk into the sand mid-thigh so slowly and gently that he hadn't felt it. Tendrils of the white dust were snaking and around his body, slipping and sliding around him with a lover's touch.

"Holy shit!" he yelped and felt his body suddenly jerk as it sunk another six inches into the soft substance. It felt like dust made from silk, and whereas it had let him drop like it was water a moment ago, it was not supporting him again. "Bernadette, what the... what the hell! Get me out of here!"

He sunk again, the tendrils turning from soft and loving to rock hard as they pulled him down. Beneath his feet it felt like nothing, while around his legs and covered chest, the granular material continued to whisper across his skin, tantalizing him to an inevitable orgasm.

Bernadette's voice was soothing but hard at the same time, like she was explaining the facts of life to a crying four-year-old that she had to placate. Her words slipped across the sand just loud enough that he could catch what she said over the sound of the distant surf. "A full moon on Halloween is an unusual thing, Eric. It is the only time you can plant the seeds for Demon Apples trees and Midnight Mint. Seeds that normally plant babies if you know what I mean. It's the moonlight that does it. It causes the sand to soften at the warmth of a human body, makes it seek out a lover. But the sand is all about whispers, Eric. It likes quiet. I tried to keep you quiet while it did its work, but you wouldn't shut up. If you don't say anything, you'll be alright when it's done. When the moon sets, the sand will return to normal."

His heart pounding, the speech was not without effect. Not to Eric, who had hung on every word, but on the sand. While she was talking it continued to caress him, probing now against his anal ring. There was a roughness now to the contact on his cock as he was tugged and twisted.

He continued to sink as well. Despite the softness of her voice the sand reacted to it, pulling his arms under, then his shoulders. His jaw rested on the hardened surface now, and he stared at her, pleading for release.

Bernadette was watching in anticipation. She froze for a moment, head tilting forward, and her desperate voice hissed, "Are you going to cum?"

Eric felt his whole body begin to shake as well as he reached climax, a pocket of emptiness opening before the tip of his cock so as to not inhibit his ejaculation. The sandy tendrils twisted and stroked with a silky sandpaper touch, wringing his cock dry. Bernadette rocked back in forth, smiling, and gave him an affirming nod, then lay back on a patch of the blanket.

Eric waited. Ten seconds, thirty, a minute, waiting for her to move. The sand around him had stopped moving, but he was now buried up to his ears and it felt like he was encased in cement. Slowly she got up, shivered for a moment, and began to get dressed. She started to walk away, turned, and walked back out on to the sandy expanse. Eric breathed a sigh of relief.

She stood there, her boots inches away from his mouth. "Can you show me know the respect you give all the rest of your clients? Or do you still think of me as just another stupid, slutty woman, a person that you could take advantage of for sexual and monetary purposes?"

Eric felt the sand liquify immediately, causing his body to sink another few inches. He arched his head back to keep his mouth and nose free. "I'm sorry, Bernadette. Please believe me. It's just that you are so beautiful, I couldn't help myself." cried his hoarse whisper. He slipped a little more before the sand again solidified. "Please!"

"Even now, you can't stop lying, can't stop thinking about how to makes this a better deal for you. Eric... "she said, pressing her booted foot onto his head with her entire weight. "I've changed my mind. YOU'RE FIRED!!"

Everything around him turned watery soft with her shout.

Bernadette pulled her booted foot from the calf deep sand, shook it a few times to dislodge most of the grains left behind, then picked up Eric's clothes and walked down the trail to the shoreline. Carefully depositing them above the high tide mark, she made her way back to the glade to gather the blanket as the moonlight shunted by clouds. Even in the fading light, she could see sprigs of mint sprouting forth from the sand, and there were at least three Devil's Apple tree twigs making their presence known.

The boots made walking the sandy trail difficult at times, but she eventually made her way back up to the path and her house. Walking through the front yard she grabbed the 'for sale by owner' sign and tossed it on the porch. Her boyfriend Craig sat on the couch, watching, Arsenic and Old Lace', a tradition of theirs.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"I decided not to sell after all."

"I hope the realtor isn't too upset."

"He was headed to the beach the last time I saw him. Something about a midnight swim."

"I hope he's careful. All sorts of monsters out on Halloween, especially with a full moon."

"We don't need him anyway. I'm sure business is going to perk up soon. I did get some seeds planted on the way back," she replied, a little glumly. "And fertilized. Sorry I missed the whole trick-or-treat thing tonight, babe. I promise I'll make it up to you."

He cocked an eyebrow questioningly at her. The sweater hit the ground, and then the skirt. He loved it when she wore the basque and the boots. Taking his hand, she pulled him back to the bedroom. He smiled and said nothing as he followed.

Good lovers knew when to be quiet.