Life At Islands Estates Ch. 02

Sunday dawned with rain hammering the big windows and lightening and thunder crashing. I like rainy days but, summer storms this close to the coast in Florida; can sometimes be severe. I rolled over and gazed at the clock and was surprised to see it was after 9:30. I usually wake up earlier but I must have been more tired than I thought last night.

After the morning routine I climbed up to the deserted kitchen and fixed myself coffee and waffles. Marie had not shown her face. With Louise in Atlanta, I was alone in the house. I decided it would be a good day to spend in the video room getting ready to erect the equipment mounting racks.

We made great progress yesterday and I took measurements for the glass panels, which would fit into the frames in the wall looking into the stage area. We had a long way to go before we would be ready to shoot a movie, but I felt good about the work. I finished painting the wallboard in the room and started to move the metal pieces closer to it, so we could assemble them inside. The day seemed to slip by unnoticed and when I took a break for a beer, it was already after five.

I was sitting at the bar when the phone rang and Louise came on the line. "Hi Brat," she yelled into the phone.

"Nice talk," I replied, "but I guess you know the truth."

I heard two people laughing and surmised that Camille was close at hand. "Hi, Cammy, you miss me?" I asked.

"Every minute. You taking good care of Marie?" she asked.

"You know it, Brown Sugar. But without my two favorite darkies, I'm a lost soul," I answered.

"You big bull shitter, you getting' so much trim it's almost against the principles of man," she wailed.

She had me there. I'd been overrun with opportunities lately. I'm not gonna complain, it would do no good; I was alone in the house.

"So when you coming home to bug me?" I asked.

"My furniture gets picked up Wednesday morning and we'll leave as soon as the movers are gone. So late Wednesday evening," she answered.

"I'll be here with bells on," I said.

"You had better be there with a big hard-on, White Boy, we're gonna be wantin' some leg when we get in. Understand?" she said.

"Perfectly," I answered, "loud and clear."

"Gotta go, Hon, see ya soon," she finished and we hung up.

I stood up and walked to the door and looked out at the river. The rain had persisted all day and it was still drizzling. I noticed Chrissie's car down at the boathouse and Denny's lights were on. As I turned, I nearly ran over Marie. She had come in unnoticed. "Hi," I said, "I'm always trying to run over you it seems."

"Long as you fuck me when you knock me down, it's okay," she explained. "What'cha doin' for dinner?"

"I was thinking about driving down to Kings and have a Shipwreck. Join me?" I asked.

"Give me a minute to powder my nose," she stated and disappeared.

I changed pants and found a shirt and was ready by the time she returned. I fired the big Chevy engine up, in the Nomad, and we drove south to Flagler Beach. Marie had doused herself with some very exotic perfume and I was heady with her scent. We pulled into Kings lot and had the place to ourselves. We ordered a Shipwreck pizza, and sat looking out the window at the Atlantic Ocean. The waves were about four feet high and breaking way out. I'll have to check in the morning and if it's like this I might bring my board down and surf for a while. Marie smoked a cigarette and we talked about our music and Camille. She was curious how I felt about her wanting my baby. I told here I really hadn't gotten over the initial shock, but I guess it was all right. I told her Camille and Louise would make great parents and she kicked me under the table.

Our pizza arrived and we ate in silence until Terry and Al came in and asked to beg off on the job at the White Lion, so they could get ready to leave for college. I told them it was all right and asked Marie to remind me we needed to contact Jeff and Ronny.

"That's a good deal," I said, "we need to start working with the new guys as soon as we can."

Marie was thoughtful and then asked, "How would you feel if I started to look for some bookings in Daytona or Orlando?"

I told her I thought that was fine and we needed to start playing some bigger arenas if we wanted exposure. She agreed and we finished our pizza and got up to leave.

We drove back to the house and I couldn't believe we hadn't had a sexual encounter the whole time we had been out. "Not feeling well?" I asked as we entered the studio.

"Fucking period," she complained, "started this morning. I'm off line until Friday at least."

"Oh well," I said.

"I can still suck dick, though," she laughed. "C'mon upstairs later and let me buy you a drink for a change."

"Deal, give me a while, I want to work on a melody I've been chewing on for a couple of days and I'll be up," I said.

She nodded and was gone. I switched on the tape decks and picked up the new Jazzmaster guitar and started the song Marie and Dennis and I had been working on most recently. I listened through a headset for a few minutes, rewound to the beginning and muted the lead track and played a new track along with the vocal and rhythm tracks still audible. I rewound again and picked up my old bass and played a new bass track. After putting a new tape on deck two, I started deck one and mixed the new tracks with the original five tracks and left the first bass track out altogether. It sounded like a completely different song. I'd had this lead line buzzing in my head for days and it really added to our mix. Oh what joy, a plan comes together.

It was almost an hour before I climbed the stairs to Marie's apartment. I had not been in here since she moved in. I could see she had been busy settling in. She was evidently serious about fixing things up, because everything in the living room had been stacked in the middle of the room. She had been making small repairs in the plaster and touching up the woodwork. Her workmanship was very nice and I was glad to see it taking place. She came into the room, from the bedroom, wearing a slinky robe, and crossed over to me. She gave me a warm kiss and then walked into the kitchen. She mixed me a nice Johnny Walker Black over a couple of ice cubes and handed it to me. She even has my brand.

"Good choice, how'd you know I like Scotch?" I asked.

"Woman's intuition," she smiled.

I should have known. We walked back through the living room into one of the bedrooms, which she was using as a den. I settled into a chair and enjoyed my drink.

Marie sat across from me and said, "You must think I'm some kind of a rotten filthy slut, the way I've been acting around you."

"Hey, like I explained to Camille about Dianne," I said, "some people just have different ideas. You like it a little sleazy. Dianne has her thing, and Camille wants her brother to father her baby. Just think about mom and dad and Louise, and me and Louise and the girls. Who cares as long as nobody gets hurt?"

"I know I'm running crazy these days, like a pony that got out of the fence," she said. "If I do something to offend you, let me know, Okay?"

"Sure," I said, "I'll let you know. So, tell me about Jeff."

"He's a jack rabbit, just like Dennis. Two or three minutes, and they're shooting it off. He's probably better the second go round, but who has time when you're fuckin' in the toilet," she said.

"Denny thinks you're the most exotic creature in the world," I explained. "But he's such a nervous guy, he can't settle down around women. Gail and I had to drag him over and plug him into Chrissie the first time. Then, I fucked her in the ass with him on the bottom. Gail still talks about it. You should have seen his face when Gail slipped a rubber on his dick with her mouth, and then drank his cum out of it after he fucked Chrissie with it."

"Now that's kinky," Marie whispered. "That's the kind of stuff Dianne would do."

I chuckled and took a pull on my Scotch. All the talk about fucking was having its affect on me. I could feel my dick rolling into position in my pants and I noticed Marie watching it move.

"Getting horny, Chum?" she asked.

"What do you think?" I answered her question with a question.

Marie reached for my zipper and jerked it down and unsnapped the front. I wriggled out of my pants and stood there with my cock sticking straight out. She leaned forward and licked the head and circled it with her lips. She slowly sucked me down as far as she could and then released the suction. I rocked back and she sucked me in again. This time she let me pop out of her mouth.

I sat back down in the chair and took a sip of my drink. She stood and slipped her robe off and stood there naked. I saw the string from her tampon hanging out of her pussy and was glad that I was not female. She knelt and took me back into her mouth and spent a ling time savoring my hardness with her hot mouth. I was sitting with my head laid back on the soft chair and my eyes closed. I could barely feel her mouth on me. It's like I was suspended in her time space continuum, and she was consuming me slowly into her self. Damn, she can really suck cock.

Suddenly, she stopped and pulled me to my feet. "Lets go to bed, Cool, I want your cock in my butt," she announced.

She crawled up on her hands and knees on the bed and I mounted her easily from the back. I buried my stiffness deep into her and humped her with long even strokes. I reached around and handled first one hard tit and then the other. Our rhythm intensified until I was pounding into her ass with tremendous force. My cock slobbered in her bowels filling her to overflowing with semen. She thundered into orbit seconds later and we collapsed on the bed.

I woke up, a long time later, still spooning behind her with my soft prick still embedded in her tightly clamped hole. I rolled away and her sphincter made a sucking noise as I extracted myself. She moaned her protest but I decided it was time for a shower and some sleep. I finished me warm Scotch and picked up my clothes and walked naked back through the house.

I switched the lights on in my bathroom, and surveyed myself in the mirror. My abs seemed to be tighter and I could see that my biceps were starting to improve. The physical labor of the past weeks must be starting to take effect. I looked at my hanging cock and winced at the sight. I hung loosely down between my legs and I had a red lipstick smear close to my balls, brown stains from having just had anal sex and I was crusted with my own cum. Such is life around Marie. A shower was indeed in order.

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Monday and Tuesday were spent assembling the mounting racks for the television monitors and video recorders in the control room. Roger and Dennis pulled electrical cables into the room and installed plugs and power strips on the walls behind each rack. They also pulled reams of video cables out into the stage area for connections to the cameras. Cables were also pulled from the location of the dimmer panels and hung for the lighting, which was yet to be installed. The huge pile of wires and cables we had unloaded, had diminished significantly, in the past few days, but we still had a bunch to go.

I had discovered that there was a plumbing chase from the basement up into the bathroom in The War Room and we fished a camera cable up through this chase so we could put one of the dolly mounted cameras up there to record any activity I might wish to. All the rolling cameras would operate the recorders by remotes on the cameras so you didn't have to be in the control booth to start the recorders. You just had to be sure they were activated and on standby; then you could record at any time. Very complicated but once we started to install the different phases, it all became clear as to how they operated. This was going to be great sport in the future.

The control booth was quite large, 35' x 50'. The camera control panels and dimmer panels for the overhead stage lighting faced the stage area through four large windows. The recording and editing equipment was on the left and rear walls. The camera monitors were mounted just above the control panels under the window so you could look out over the monitors at the staging simply by raising your eyes. Roger had designed the booth using the same basic setup as the one in the TV station he had worked in previously. Everything was handy and close at hand.

The glass company called and informed us our glass window panels were ready and they would be there tomorrow to install them. Things were moving right along and I was pleased. Working in the basement was hot work and I came to the realization that a cooling system was required so I made some calls and had a man come and give us an estimate on installing ductwork and all the necessary equipment. He could start the following Monday so that was one more item taken care of.

We knocked off around four on Tuesday. Roger had business in St. Augustine and Denny wanted to hit a couple of music stores in Daytona, he was looking for strings and a new strap for his guitar.

I grabbed a couple of beers and a fish pole and walked down to the dock and thought I'd relax with the river for a while. We still had a few live shrimp in our live well next to the pier so I netted one out and cast out into the water and popped the top on a beer. I had no more than settled on the bench when the line went tight and I had a nice four-pound red bass on the line. Fish this size are fun to catch because they fight so hard. I dropped the fish in the catch bag and hung it in the water and threw another shrimp at the river. This time I sat on the end of the pier with my feet in the water. This end section of the dock was a floating section and it rose and fell with the tied.

I had just opened my second beer when I heard footsteps on the wooden pier behind me. I looked around and saw Denny's mother walking out on the dock. She walked up and sat on the bench just to my right and asked how the fishing was.

I showed her my fish and said, "One cast, one fish, so far. That'll feed me tonight."

She shaded her eyes with her hand and looked out over the river. The scenery is wonderful. The river makes a long gentle bend here, and is quite wide. A sandy beach stretches along the far shore with scrub palmetto hammock beyond the marsh. The birds are always present and humanity has kept a respectful distance. The river always moves with the tide, either in or out, but we are sheltered from strong winds and fast currents.

I turned and looked at the woman. Her light summer dress clung to her slightly overweight body. Her bosom is rather large. She had pulled her skirt up to stay cool, her shapely calves gave way to thicker thighs which junctured at a pair of dark blue panties. She was unaware that I was looking right up her skirt as she sat with her legs spread. Her face was soft and round, tanned from time spent outdoors. Mousy brown hair hung straight to her shoulders. No visible signs of makeup at this time. The direct sunlight was causing her to sweat.

"Seen my son," she asked.

"He drove to Daytona to pick up some strings for his guitar and I think he has a date with Chrissie," I answered.

"Oh, that redheaded tramp. He moved out of the house so he could screw her whenever he wants and me not know about it," she complained. "This is nice, though, it's very calm here."

"I like it," I said. "Would you care for a beer or something else?"

"Sure, a beer sounds good, it's hot out here. I'm just dripping," again the complaints.

I put my fish pole in the boathouse and pointed up toward the house. I followed undulating hips her up the incline to the patio and opened the door and ushered her into the studio. After washing my fishy hands I opened us each a beer and we sat facing each other on the sofas.

She rolled the cold beer bottle on her forehead to cool herself off. She took a long pull from the beer. "So, I take it you're not impressed with Chrissie?" I asked.

"She's a little slut," she began. "Dennis runs after her like a bitch in heat. Every time she calls, out the door he goes chasing her to God knows where."

"He's young, he'll get over it," I said.

She pulled on her beer and sat the empty on the table. As she leaned over, the top of her dress hung open displaying a generous amount of cleavage, held together by a dark blue bra. She sat this way for several seconds before leaning back. I thought to myself, 'Easy fella, this is Denny's mother.'

"Tell me about your music, Virgil, are you guys any good?" she asked.

"I'll play a tape for you if you'd like," I said and jumped up to start the playback deck.

I played the last tape Dennis and Marie and I had worked on with the new instrumentals I had tracked. The harmonies are particularly good on this piece; we call it, Walkin' On The Beach. She stood with her hands on her hips swaying with the beat and her eyes closed. A couple more of our original tunes played and then we had a couple of other songs recorded that played for her.

"Dennis and Marie sing very well together," I stated. "He's a pretty fair guitar picker too."

"The woman has a lovely voice, who is she?" she asked.

I told her she had been our English Composition teacher and she was duly impressed. I doubted she would feel the same if she had seen her son and Marie in the back of my car last Friday night, fucking like bunnies. I decided she had all the information she needed on Marie. I offered her another beer, which she accepted and we chatted for a little while longer.

"Mrs. Ryan," I began.

"Oh, Virgil, please call me Susan," she interrupted, "we've known each other too long to be so formal."

"Only if you promise to call me Cool," I said.

"Cool, I like that," she said, "I'm so hot. I don't know what my problem is. Seems I sweat for no reason, these days. Dennis used to help me when I got hot, but now he's living here and I don't have anyone to sponge my back for me.'

She looked me straight in the eye. I couldn't get a read on her intent, but I felt like something was coming I might not like, or maybe I would.

"Oh?" I asked.

"Yes, like in a cool shower," she whispered.

"Together?"

"Yes."

Here it comes; I had to ask, "Naked?"

"Yes." Her response was almost inaudible.

"What else do you do?" I asked.

"Oh, you know," she stumbled on the words. "We'd help each other."

"To?"

"You know."

"No, you tell me, Susan, this is your story, you tell it," I scolded.

"Well," she spoke slowly, "to get off. He'd rub me and make me feel good. And I would touch him, you know, to help him to get hard."

"What did you do when he got hard?" I asked.

"Sometimes he'd shoot his sperm on me," she confessed.

"Where?"

"On my tits."

"Where else?"

"Sometimes on my face after I put him in my mouth."

This was too much information. I was starting to feel the stirrings of a woody and didn't think it was a good idea. But what the hell, she started it.

"You sucked his dick?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Do you like that?" I was getting aroused.

"Yes."

"What else do you do?" I asked.

"I let him lick my pussy."

"Do you cum when he eats your pussy?"

"Oh God yes. I blast off when he does that." She was spilling her soul. "My husband refuses to do that and Dennis is so very good at it. I'm wet thinking about it."

"Have you ever fucked him?" I had to know.

She paused for almost a full minute before she whispered again, "It's so wrong, to lust after your own son. But I can't help myself. He makes me talk dirty to him and say things I'd never say. He makes me so wet between my legs, and he makes me orgasm so hard. Ben has never been able to make me do that. I miss him already."

"He didn't move to the moon, you know," I said.

"I know, but I need him," she sobbed.