Loving Claire Pt. 01

I sat us up and clipped the bra with a soft pass over her curves. "How can I do architecting when you keep hitting on me?"

Elise offered the sandwich plate, "He's right. Have a sandwich and stop flirting."

The three of us sat on the ancient sofa, munching and talking house design. Architecture was floating in a sea of sexual innuendo. I asked, "Did you mean it when you said Claire and I couldn't leave until you had a house design?"

She stood and slipped out of the dress. With Claire glaring, she found my lap and said, after a hot kiss, "Yes. Not permitted to leave until the client is satisfied!"

This was too much. I grabbed both of them and lofted the bodies into the middle of last night's unmade bed. "The clients must learn to behave. There is work and there is play. And there is punishment!"

I had them naked in moments, screeching at me as I administered hard swats. I rolled them together and pinned the top body down with my cock. The soft happy noises got louder and louder, turning into wails as I took care of one and then the other.

Their bodies lay back, sighing and turning into me with giggles. "Is this a special perk for architecture clients?"

My fingers ran up and down two muscled backs. "You two are teaching me all kinds of bad behavior. What happens when some possible woman client doesn't want attention from my cock?"

They kissed each other across my chest and said, "You don't want her as a client anyway. Send her to that idiot, Marc Valenti."

The afternoon sun was warm, the sex was terrific and a nap caught us.

The sun had moved and Elise was whispering in my ear, "What if I asked you to do a more detailed drawing of the design you like best? Is that a copout? After all, you are the one with architecture training."

"I am to set up the table and get to work? Do the job you hired me for?"

She licked my ear and rubbed her bottom on the top of my thigh. The voice was seductive. "Yes. But don't forget the other job you seem very good at." She squeezed my hardening cock. "The one that requires the use of this special tool."

Massaging their scalps, I sighed and said, "You are making me horny all over again. Am I taking you to dinner in town?"

Kisses came from both sides. "Absolutely not. We have already shopped for a fine dinner here. Take us to the shower and get to work."

In a sunny corner of the living room, I was in business with the new table in a matter of minutes. But first, I walked around the outside of the house, taking pictures with the phone and thinking of siting alternatives.

My drawing of the site, with barn and sheds, but minus the shack, looked good. It filled a large sheet of paper, almost 20x24. Gradually, a synthesis of my morning's work appeared. At the southeast corner of the new structure a tower rose. Not dissimilar from the cistern towers that graced so many early farmhouses in this country. Slimmer lines took away the squatty look of most of them. I used openings at the top to suggest a bell tower. Actually, the inhabitants could take their afternoon beverages there and pretend to be lords and ladies of their demesne.

The solar was embedded in the roof, not propped up on ugly stands. The porch along the north side provided for sitting either in the morning early sun at the east end, or the later afternoon sun at the west end, depending on the weather.

After two hours, there was enough to show the client. I walked to the kitchen and busied myself making drinks. The chefs looked at me and asked if they were permitted to view the architect's work.

"With a drink in hand, and a hug for me, the answer is yes."

I fastened the drawing to a piece of pasteboard and walked outside. Standing back a hundred feet, they pressed to my side and absorbed what I had tried to create.

"Elliot, I am in love with it already. The tower has a stair inside?"

"Yes. It can be a solo hideout, or a group cocktail location."

"What about the naked orgy location? Is there space for a hot tub?"

"I thought it was the guys who were criticized for one track minds?"

Claire nibbled on my ear. "The problem is that your first two clients are just sluts. This is setting a bad example."

They pestered as we walked back inside. I couldn't retaliate because the precious drawing was in my hands.

"Let's sit outside and talk more about the house. Dinner is in the oven."

For once, we actually concentrated on Elise's house, sipping and enjoying the late sun. She asked about cost and I said the design was flexible with regard to square footage, and that total cost, excluding architecture, could easily reach half a million. I had no idea what her financial situation was.

"Does it have a fireplace?"

"That's up to you. They are very polluting and don't give off much heat into the room. But a traditional ranch house without a fireplace would be a break with tradition."

"What if I go deeper into my trust and have you build me a fancy rock fireplace using propane for fuel?"

I pulled her tight and whispered, "I love my very creative clients. Your pockets are as deep as Claire's?"

She fell back into my arms and smirked. "Rating us already, are you? Points for good screwing, for good ideas, for bottomless funding?"

"The two of you are completely spoiling the architect who doesn't even have a degree or a license."

(cont'd in Part 2)