Loving Claire Pt. 05

Author's Note: Dear Readers - Please remember that all characters are fictitious, even if events happen in real places!

Loving Claire - Part 5 - Shootout at the Planning Commission

Chapter Nineteen - Aimee and Elliot Face Their Big Test

Aimee had me in a death grip. We were in bed in the Fairfax condo and it was still dark. Her sharp teeth were fastened to my shoulder muscle.

"What is this attack about?" I turned over and went after one of her delectable nipples, located conveniently close.

"Elliot! I am worried! So many things could go wrong today!" The breathy accent endeared her to me once again.

I grabbed the wiggling body and walked us to the kitchen. Elise was already there, having heard our ruckus.

"Calm down, you two. Everything is going to be fine."

"Fine!? What about the 'Marin Anti-Growth Coalition?' "

Claire seized the French Professor from my arms, tickling everywhere. Shrieks filled the air.

"Here you are, the most talented concrete engineer around, parading naked in the client's kitchen! This will never do!"

With the espresso machine whistling in the background, the four of us had a giggling hugfest to let off excess energy. There were less than ten hours until our little date with destiny at the Marin Planning Commission. The presentation boards and handouts had been checked and double checked and printed at a shop in Fairfax. The precious concrete sample even had a custom made silk drape over it. After prodding from Elise, Aimee suggested that Claire do introductory remarks, thanking all and sundry and handing the main presentation of the project to me.

The Planning Director had cautioned us to be terse. "Remember, these folks have been through this cycle innumerable times. Keep your remarks to the short list of characteristics that deserve their favorable decision."

Aimee was to deal with the concrete. She and the clients had disappeared for most of a day while deciding on the proper outfit for a junior Professor and concrete engineer. There were tough issues about how a female engineer with expertise in concrete should appear in public. I rolled my eyes and was happy Aimee had two experienced professional women to assist her. When they returned, I was informed briskly that the outfit would not be revealed to the architect until we left for the meeting. I growled and made threatening male noises.

I proposed that there be a rehearsal, with the clients as audience. This was nixed. "Elliot, you will get stale. Let's go see the horses and do a run out there. You need to help us decide where to make riding trails."

Aimee and I were in the bedroom, getting into our running clothes, when Claire and Elise approached with frowns. Neither had their clothes on yet.

"Elliot, we have noticed you developing feelings for this lovely young engineer. We had a private talk with her yesterday. It appears that the two of you are falling in love. She asked how this could happen, since you have been sleeping with the clients all summer. Can you guess what we told her, and what she told us?"

I wrapped arms tightly around Aimee and replied, "I am clueless, as usual."

"We told her that the two of you were meant for each other, and she should ignore us. Somehow, the middle aged clients will get by. She pinned us down and said that if the two of you survive this meeting and actually hook up, we are not going anywhere."

I pushed everyone to the bed. "The French girl loves me, and I love her. The two of us love the two of you. The four of us are bonded. Do I have that right?"

Aimee whispered "Oui." The clients whispered "Oui," and tears fell. After a long minute, I ventured, "Do you suppose we could still do our presentation without giggling like lovebirds?"

The engineer jumped up, fists beating, and ordered us out the door with a great laugh. My little voice in my head wondered if anything could be salvaged from this incredible mess.

Three hours later, munching on deli sandwiches at the horse corral, there was an amazing calm. The meeting would begin at five in a county building in Fairfax. The time and location had been posted on the county website. There was a several item agenda also posted, on which we were the first item. Public comments would be received by the Commission after our presentation and before a vote on approval of the proposed project.

With our load of materials, we would depart for the meeting at four in order to have time to set up and say hello to the Planning staff. Aimee poked me and said, "The clients insist I take an hour to dress and primp!"

I didn't even frown. There was quiet satisfaction in our group enterprise. I went over to Annie and rubbed noses. "Wish us luck, Annie"

It sounded like a laughing whinny to me. Damn horse must know what is going on. We packed up lunch and headed back to the condo.

Chapter Twenty - Success

All of the tense preliminaries were over. The Commission Secretary was taking roll for the record. An audience of thirty or so was to our right. The Commission members, all of whom were in attendance, were to our left. The presentation easels and table with the sample, all draped, were across from us so the Commission members and the audience could see them. Claire and Elise were in the first row of the audience. Aimee was next to me, a vision in beige pantsuit with crimson silk blouse open at the top, revealing a gold necklace and a discreet amount of her chest.

The Planning Director, at the staff desk, introduced the agenda and gestured to Claire to approach the podium. We were on.

Claire was at her veteran lobbyist best. Addressing a public body with deference but in a firm voice describing her conviction that the proposed project met county planning guidelines and would contribute both a horse facility and an appropriate residence for herself. She noted the letter in the agenda package from the president of the Trailriders Association, which commended the publicly accessible trails to be created and recommended approval of the project.

Pointing to Aimee and me, Claire introduced her architectural and engineering team and turned the presentation over to us. Saying to myself that this was no worse than presenting to the Dean a few weeks ago, I quickly covered the essentials of the project, emphasizing the uniqueness of the property and the challenge of using the land well. Seeing nods among the members, I moved to the presentation boards. A staff member had volunteered to be the undraper, and lowered the cover on the first panel, which showcased the property from a distance, with horse facility in the foreground, and the concrete structure of the residence partially hidden in the tall trees to the rear. There were noises of surprise and pleasure from the audience.

Remembering the admonition to be brief, I described the opportunity in the vertical world of the redwoods, none of which were to be removed, to erect a complementary structure of concrete and turned the presentation over to Aimee.

She instantly captured the attention of everyone in the room. The looks, the accent, and the authority with which she described worldwide progress in adapting concrete to emerging architectural and structural requirements were amazing. Quickly shifting to Claire's project, she described the challenge of finding a color in the exterior shell that would do justice to the trees surrounding the residence. As the staff member removed the cover from the sample, Aimee expressed her satisfaction with the result of our tests and mentioned the likely view on a wet misty morning. The audience thought so too, with louder happy noises than before. The Commission members were impressed, but trying to be neutral toward an applicant.

Another of the large boards was uncovered, which showed the completed building in proper scale against the trees, with mist provided by my hand. There was a silent moment, with nods from around the room as eyes switched back and forth from the gleaming sample to the presentation board. I stood and asked the Commission if there were questions before the meeting was opened to public comment. The Planning Director was smiling, so I guessed we hadn't done too badly.

There was a question about seismic, given the nearness of the San Andreas Fault. Aimee answered it with ease, noting that reinforcement of concrete against seismic loads was an active research area, and the concrete core of the Cartright residence would have shear and compressive strengths in excess of requirements in Marin County.

A staff member had been collecting cards with requests to speak from among the audience and brought them to the Chair of the Commission, who smiled as she shuffled them and called on a man who came to the podium and identified himself as speaking for the antigrowth coalition.

"Chairman and Members of the Commission, you have a statement in your agenda package from us opposing the project. We question the need for any further development in West Marin and have advocated revision of the zoning in this area for years. However, the proposed project appears to conform with present zoning, so you would not have a basis for denial related to zoning. If I may say so, this is a brilliant piece of work and will grace the community. I just wish it didn't have to be here."

The audience applauded, with some laughing quietly.

The other speakers were supportive and we hardly heard them. The atmosphere in the room was warm as the Planning Director rose to speak for the staff. He turned and looked to the rear of the audience, where Dean Collins was rising and coming forward! Good grief, I thought, now what.

Having been introduced as the Dean of the School of Architecture, George addressed the Commission.

"Members of the Planning Commission, your Staff Director recently reminded me that neither our architect nor our engineer are currently licensed to practice in California. But, as you have seen this afternoon, their work on the proposed project is of the highest professional quality. I am blessed to have these two brilliant individuals among my faculty and student body. With pleasure, the required documents will be submitted over my signature as a licensed architect and engineer in the State of California."

More audience applause. Aimee gripped my hand tightly. The rest was anticlimactic. The Planning Director complimented the project and pointed to the letter in the agenda, which we had not seen, that recommended approval. The Commission vote, after more compliments, was unanimous in favor of approval.

At the celebration dinner, expensive white Burgundy flowed freely. George grumped to the table that he would receive no end of teasing about signing planning documents for junior faculty and students. Joyce said he was a hero and needed to sleepover in Woodacre. The clients were jubilant. The architect and engineer were limp.

Epilogue - Two years later.

Five of us were in bed together. Ferdinand Geoffrey, known to his family as Fergie, was crawling on top of the colorful duvet. Naked bodies under it were tickling.

Elise whispered, "He is such a dear, you must have another!"

Aimee protested, "What about my career?" She was tight in my arms and pestering a hard cock that was ready for use as a breeding tool.

Claire chimed in, "Yes, you have a duty to make a girl!" The clients, who were no longer clients but owners of completed dwellings, claimed they were too old for babies.

We were lying on an extra large, custom made mattress in the master bedroom of Claire's new home, surrounded by concrete in all imaginable artistic forms.

First one, then another body departed for the bathroom. Aimee snuggled tighter, "Does he get food, or do you get a workout?"

I hugged her and remembered the morning when Fergie's egg got fertilized. After the weeks of buildup with no sex while we struggled to get ready for the Planning Commission, I was afraid of a letdown. Maybe this romance was about to flame out. All four bodies were groggy from nervous tension and a wild celebration after our unanimous success. I buried my face in a pillow and moaned, "Woe is me."

I didn't know it, but the three females had been scheming about my first sex with Aimee. She had consulted with them.

"I am really in love with him. Is it allowed that he impregnate me this very first time?"

They were in the shower together, where my hearing did not penetrate. "Aimee, the first time? What would Mother say, you are not married!?"

"But we are bonded. I am sure this will work. I will be ovulating the day of the meeting. My body is ready! What good is a marriage certificate, anyway? What I want is a birth certificate!"

I was told later that there was a cascade of giggles as the clients advised the engineer that they had never watched a human female being bred, only horses, and that she undoubtedly needed their assistance to get through the process!

On the morning of the long delayed event, they had my number from the beginning. "You have no woes. You are now a recognized architect with an approved residence project that has a big spread in the morning papers. Even in San Francisco!"

That got me moving. Sipping hot coffee in the kitchen, I gazed at the picture of the presentation board and the shining silvery sample in the San Francisco paper. Aimee slipped under my arm for a hug.

"You are happy, architect?"

In a tangled rush of emotions, I realized this lovely woman had merged her brilliance with mine and actually loved me in addition. My lust for her body could finally be realized.

The clients pressed against us from either side. Three naked women had me hard in a hurry. "Elliot, you are to be a tender lover. None of your usual rough stuff with us. We will supervise!"

I rolled my eyes and pretended to faint. Fingers were already at work on my equipment.

"Standup straight. No foolishness. She needs your best performance!"

Aimee decided to spice things up, surprising the horsewomen. "Lover, how will you take your woman this morning? Over the table? In a bed, like a missionary? Or like a cowgirl, facing her girlfriends?"

I threw the laughing woman into the air, catching her and marching down the hall to the large bed the four of us shared. Throwing her down, I grabbed the other two and threatened instant penetration as a warmup for the stallion.

"No, no! She is first!" Fists and feet were flying. I realized belatedly that they didn't want tender, they wanted an alpha male performance. With a roar, I speared straight into Aimee, claiming her as mine.

Suddenly, there was calm. Elise whispered. "They have finally done it! The lovers are tight as they can get!"

Aimee clutched me, "Yes, yes. Oh, I love you, Elliot!" A moment's peace was shattered when she flexed strongly up at me. My vision cleared, the engineer and I were together at last. "More," she called for.

Over the next minutes, Aimee demonstrated her need for cock, especially my big, eager cock. One orgasm was just the beginning. She wanted my juice to flood her womanly passage and called out, "Now, Elliot, now!"

After a terrific emptying of my glands, she pushed me to the others. "They are needy!"

The clients were red hot from watching my stallion performance. "Elliot, you are the greatest lover. Do us. NOW!"

Moments later, having brought three pussies to orgasm, I slumped against the headboard. Aimee pulled up the duvet and snuggled into my arms. "Lover, I have a small announcement..."

Suddenly, the other two were pressed close. "Elliot, listen closely. This is important!"

Aimee provided a torrid kiss before speaking. "Is your passport up to date? You see, I am now pregnant and we must travel to Paris for the marriage!"

I gasped. The seduction of Elliot was complete! No formal courtship. No engagement. No, indeed. When the female's mind is made up, the male is enticed into seeding the female and proceeding directly to marriage!

"The three of you have conspired to take me down! All four of us are traveling together? In first class?"

I was smothered in love. Laughing, giggling love that had just leaped tall buildings and was propelling me into the arms of a French family, my new inlaws-to-be.

Back in the new bed in the new concrete house, I felt seduced all over again. Trying for a diversion, I said, "Look," pointing out the window facing east. Almost a football field away, Annie was leading the horses in an early morning romp in their fancy paddock, with its shelter to one side out of sight.

Claire and Elise, clad in fleece tops, stood in the bathroom doorway, gazing at the first sun shining on the animals. "Elliot, this is so precious. We never thought it would actually happen."

Aimee had Fergie at her breast, headed for the bathroom herself. "Go sit with him," she gestured at me.

They slipped beneath the cover, bare hips against mine. I had never given up calling them clients, we had shared so much in the design and building of their homes. "Clients, we cannot dawdle, the schedule is full today."

They gripped my stiff shaft harder. "Nonsense. This is not a tour day. We demand you enjoy this fine bed and our bodies!"

I hummed and they stroked. Soon, there would be action. My fortyish lovers told me that they never imagined living and loving a guy who was happily married with small child. At night, Aimee would whisper in my ear that they deserved me more than she did. I would roar back and pin her instantly to the mattress, which was firm. I liked firm things, starting with the athletic bodies of my three lovers. Once I had brought her to the boil, I was pushed in the direction of one or the other woman, who was invariably hotter than a pistol and welcomed me to her depths with oaths and ferocious humping. After all three rose to wailing climaxes, we kissed sweetly and fell into dreamless sleep.

How was this possible, you ask, with Fergie frequently needing attention? My ever resourceful spouse had imported her young cousin, Annette, to be a nanny. She was actually as brilliant an architecture student as Aimee, and was paid generously to be the tour guide for the house on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Claire was also covering her architecture student tuition. The tours were a side effect of the publicity the house had received when completed and rising majestically among the sheltering redwoods.

Without telling us, George had arranged a sneak tour for a friend at Architectural Digest. The resulting spread, with gorgeous double page images of the silvery exterior rising in mist against the metallic gray of the redwood branches, produced an avalanche of praise and immediate demand for tours.

There was another sly secret at work. Without telling George or me, the women, including Joyce, had modified the interior layout to provide an eighty square meter pied a terre suite, in the French manner, that was reserved for the Dean and his ever luscious and helpful wife. There was a private outside entrance, to which only they had keys. There was a secret passage directly to the lap pool, where George did his morning workout. There was another to a panel in the master bedroom, so that Joyce might join the other women for French style breakfast, with strong black coffee and croissant.

Aimee was there when this egregious invasion of my architectural space was discovered. On tiptoes, she whispered in my ear, "It is a small reward for his efforts helping you to make this wonderful house a reality."

I had no comeback. None. Neither did George when Joyce told him there was a special surprise at the Cartright House and blindfolded him before driving to the special garage location and adjoining private elevator. When they finally were in the bedroom with its incredible view into the redwood forest, he was struck dumb when the blindfold was removed.

"How... how did this happen?"