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Carefree Cove Ch. 01

By: Nigel Debonnaire



"Sing the song, Daddy!" The small voice rang brightly across the waters of the cove, and Thomas Albright shook his head a couple of times. A long, lean, nut brown body turned around and swam back past him, the blonde head poking indignantly out of the water. The nymph demanded: "Sing the song, Daddy! You know I"ll keep this up 'til you do!" 

Tom took a deep breath, and in his shaky tenor did his best Peter Blegvad impression:

"That's my daughter in the watereverything she owns I bought her,everything she owns. . ."

Amanda Albright's four year old face broke into a broad, pearly white grin that buoyed Tom's heart from the depths of the murky water, and her laugh bubbled across the surface of the lake in the sunshine. Already an expert swimmer, she treaded water as her father sang to her and beamed at him, flitting away when he finished the chorus.

The trees were deep green in the August morning humidity, barely stirring in the breeze. They lived in a remote place, Carefree Cove, Missouri. Only two houses were in the city limits: the legacy of dream frustrated by local prejudice. A flash from across the cove drew Tom's attention, he'd heard the Smithton house on the other side finally sold. A 40 something woman descended the stairs to the dock. She carried a light, outdoor lounger, setting it up at the waterside in the bright sunlight. A short, blue terrycloth bathrobe barely concealing her body hung on her curvy frame, and her feet were in white flip-flops. Wide, dark sunglasses sat on her face, which was graced with a peaceful smile.

Positioning her chair to face the bright sunlight and glancing out toward the Lake, she dropped the robe to stand naked in the sun, stretching fully in every direction before spreading sun tan oil on her medium brown skin. Her body was neither extremely lean nor chubby: a little cellulite pocked her hips and the curves of her legs and breasts were ample. When she finished, she stretched out on the lounger face down to toast her back, buttocks and legs.

Tom looked up at the blue, Missouri sky for a moment, squinted, shook his head and looked back at the woman. Four plus years of almost perfect celibacy stirred in his blue trunks, pressing them outward under the water. His hand trembled for a moment as it longed to console him with this unexpected bounty of the eyes. She gave no indication she saw him in the water, and it was tempting to use this vision to console himself. Abruptly, he remembered his four year old daughter was swimming nearby, and began glancing about.

"She's pretty, isn't she, daddy?" a high, serious voice whispered in his ear. Two light hands clasped his shoulder, and he felt Amanda's small form at his back. "Maybe you'd like to kiss her." His trunks returned abruptly to normal. 

"Amanda Joy Albright," Tom whispered to his daughter over his shoulder. "Be quiet, we don't want to scare the nice lady."

"Why would we scare her daddy?" she whispered back seriously.

"She might not want us to see her naked."

Reaching around, Amanda turned to peer seriously into her father's face. After a few moments searching his eyes, she whispered: "Okay, daddy. I'll be quiet. That way, she won't see me swimming out here naked either."

Tom kissed his daughter on the cheek. "Honey, I don't think she'll notice you." 

They lounged in the water quietly for a few moments, until Tom felt a fish at his side. It was small, probably a bluegill, and it touched him a couple of times. Silently, he prayed it would stay away from Amanda, who tended to yelp when surprised. A hair raising scream almost pierced his eardrum, and his daughter lunged away. 

"Daddy, daddy, a fish just goosed me," she cried as she put some distance from him. Reflexively, Tom ducked underwater with the vain hope he could go unnoticed, but he didn't grab a big enough breath to stay for long.

Amanda's sudden shriek drew the woman's attention on the deck. Tom broke water to see her turn on her side, revealing her lovely form and lowered her glasses. "Good morning," she said, unconcerned about her nudity. "I'm Michelle Hawkins, your new neighbor."

Tom started to blush as his erection re-energized for the second time in as many minutes. Embarrassment monopolized his face, at his discovery and his predicament. Getting out of the water would be dangerous now, and his daughter was no longer a deterrent. He saw his daughter surface ten feet away.

"Hi, Michelle," Amanda replied with the sincere welcome of a four year old, and no trace of her surprise. "My name is Amanda Joy Albright, and this is my daddy. His name is Thomas Ray Albright. His friends call him Tom. My friends call me Mandy."

"Well, it's nice to meet you Mandy, and your daddy Tom. My friends call me Shelley. Have you lived at Carefree Cove for long?"

"All my life," she said, warming to the conversation. "My daddy comes from Kansas City; he makes greeting cards."

"Pardon me, Ms. Hawkins, if my daughter is bothering you," Tom broke in. "Amanda, we need to go back to the house."

Turning to face her father, she pouted. "But Daddy, I think she might be scared when we come out of the water, 'cause I'm naked."

"No bother, Mr. Albright, Mandy seems like a nice little girl," Michelle said with a laugh. "You won't scare me if you're naked, Mandy, if you're not scared I'm naked."

"I'm not scared now, Michelle, and my daddy isn't either." Tom did a double take as his daughter misread him spectacularly. Amanda caught her father's stare at and stared right back into his clear blue eyes with her own.

Tom blinked first, and turned toward Michelle. "I'm glad we're not scared," he said with a slight quaver in his voice. "But it's nearly time for Mandy's gymnastics class, then her violin lesson, and she needs a little bath after this dip in the Lake of the Ozarks before we go."

"Yes, the e-coli level has been a bit high lately," Amanda added.

Michelle sat up higher, and took her sunglasses off to reveal warm, brown eyes underneath her head of dark blonde hair. "Why don't I meet you in town for lunch so we can get acquainted? Do you have a favorite place in Seville Hills?"

"Ah, the Q and A Bar and Grill is a nice, middle of the road place. On the main highway; can't miss it. Why don't we meet there?"

"We should be finished by 1:00," Amanda cut in, "And I like the Q and A Bar and Grill, too."

"It's a date," Michelle said, putting her sunglasses down over her eyes. "See you at 1:00."

"Bye, bye," Amanda chimed in.

"Later," Tom said. He waded to his small beach, slipped on a pair of flip-flops waiting for him there, and started up the path, carrying his wet daughter in his arms. She was light for her age, and he'd grown accustomed to carrying her from the day she came home from the hospital, so he bore her easily. 

She leaned back to look at their new neighbor halfway back up the hill. Facing him, she said, "Michelle seems like a nice lady," she intoned seriously.

"Yes, punkin."

"How old do you think she is?"

"I dunno, sweetheart, thirty?"

The blonde hair full of wet curls shook in exasperation at the lame attempt at diplomacy. "Think again, Daddy. She's forty, at least." A mischievous smile lit up her face. "I think you like her," her voice sang accusingly.

"We'll see, baby."

"Yes, I think you like her. And she has nice tits. But she doesn't have any hair between her legs like Grammie does." Tom stopped cold and turned to look at his daughter's face. She returned his disbelieving look with a cold, analytical gaze that brooked no challenge. "C'mon daddy, we need to get going," she said at last.

Tom was able to resume walking after a few seconds. They got back to the house where he ran her a bath, which they accomplished in a businesslike manner. As her was drying her off, she demanded: "Sing the song, Daddy."

"That's my daughter in the water. . ."

***********

Five years earlier in Seville Hills, MO, the nearest sizable town to Carefree Cove, on an August day at the local grocery store. Another sultry day that soaked clothes in milliseconds outside the thermal protection of air conditioning. Tom Albright was picking up a few things to take to his lake cabin, and was ready to celebrate since he'd just finished a big project that earned him a hefty bonus.

Tom was a tall man in his mid forties: six foot one, with dark brown hair barely touched by gray, dazzling blue eyes, and although his body was a little chunky: it sported a small paunch. He wore a blue short sleeve shirt with his jeans and red sneakers. Five years earlier, his seniority and position earned him the right to telecommute to the greeting card company he'd worked at his entire adult life, and a small house on the forested bluffs with a panoramic view of the Lake of the Ozarks became more than an weekend retreat. 

It was a dumpy little grocery store in the middle of the small town, but Tom shopped there regularly since he hated going to the local Walmart. The clientele of the Thriftway had more decorum and fewer screaming children running loose. Tom brought his half full shopping cart to the checkout, laden with store made sausages, fresh vegetables, and a couple of six packs of fine beer. The checkout girl, SHARIBETH was a chubby girl around twenty with red hair; the sacker RENEE was slightly younger girl with delicious curves in her shirt under short blond hair and sky blue eyes.

Sharibeth passed the items over the scanner, pushing them back for Renee to load almost individually into plastic sacks. Tom worried for a moment when it came time for the beer: if Sharibeth wasn't 21, she'd have to call customer service to scan the last items, and that might take time during a mini rush. Fortunately, the checker passed them over the beam without a pause, and announced the total. A swipe of the credit card and a signature later, Tom turned to take his cart to the parking lot.

Renee was loading the beer into the cart, when Sharibeth said: "Is that beer?"

"I hope so," Tom replied.

"Oh gosh, I touched it!" Renee said.

Tom smiled and gave her a wink. "I'll never tell," he whispered conspiratorially.

A broad, toothy smile of white uneven teeth behind full lips was his reward. "Okay," she said. "Hope it won't corrupt me too much."

"So what?" he murmured as he pushed his cart behind her toward the door. A glance over his shoulder revealed apple round hips packed into designer jeans, and pert, delightful mounds of puppy fat juggled nicely as Renee reached forward to load the next customer's groceries. Tom smiled in appreciation of the glimpse of natural beauty.

Late the next afternoon, Tom was at the shelter house next to the municipal pool playing dominoes with his buddies. It was a tradition, the Game on Thursday Afternoon, played by men who didn't have to work a normal job. Rev. Wilbur "Hoot" Pidgeon was the pastor of the local Methodist Church: he was semi-retired and the small congregation took up exactly the amount of time he was willing to work per week. Freddy Kleinschmidt and Petey Harms were retired farmers, having given use of their land over to their sons for all practical purposes. Mutt Hayes, the county treasurer, had given himself a day off in the nice weather, and they sat around a picnic table playing Mexican Train. All four men were well weathered, Mutt the least, craggy and slightly corpulent in their retirement, yet their eyes still shone with purpose. Tom met them at Seville Hills United Methodist Church one Lenten Breakfast morning, hit it off with them, and they accepted his company readily.

A group of young girls were at the local pool that afternoon, laughing and playing in the water, working on their tans. A group of young boys hung out across the way in the parking lot, hoping to see more of the girls than the swimsuits permitted, surreptitiously smoking cigarettes out of sight and drinking sodas adulterated by shots of rum from a brown paper bag. Hoot Pidgeon always sat with his back to the pool, in order not to scare any of his young parishioners, but he used a salvaged Chevy side mirror to chaperone the proceedings. Tom's acquaintances Sharibeth and Renee were among the frolickers, as was one of Petey's granddaughters, Ashley.

Hoot moved his mirror to follow one of the girls. "Ashley looks just like her mother at that age, Petey."

Petey smiled toothlessly. He wore overalls, a white t-shirt and a John Deere hat; his face was wrinkled and leathered by dozens summers of harvests and two large warts sat on his nose. "Yup, she's the pick of the litter. It seems like yesterday she's wading in my pond on Sunday after dinner, two years old, skin and bones, and naked as a jaybird. Her mommy tanned her hide pretty good. Now she's all growed up."

"Isn't that Maria Garcia in the red bikini?" Mutt Hayes asked.

Petey took a quick look, turning away before he could be spotted. "Yeah. She's really stacked, isn't she?" Hoot moved his mirror. "Yup, she's almost falling out of that top."

"And her nipples are hard, like little pebbles," Mutt continued. "Good thing Father John is queer, or he'd be all over that."

"Hey, Tom, aren't ya interested'n girls, or are ya going queer?" Petey said sardonically, turning to face him.

"Not with you guys around," Tom smiled. "You four are enough to keep any man straight."

Mutt chuckled. "But I don't see you sneaking as many peeks as a young man should? What's the matter, young'un, off your feed?"

"No thank you. I present my subscription to Playboy as evidence of my orientation."

"Show us, please, " Hoot asked. "Who've you been drawing?"

Tom flipped open the book and showed them several pencil drawings of the girls at the pool. The other men looked intently at the pictures, showing their appreciation for Tom's skill. "Yeah, these are good," Hoot observed. 

"But why aren't any of these topless?" Mutt inserted.

"I haven't seen them topless, and I'm not doing those kind of drawings without their permission anyway," Tom said simply.

"But with their suits wet, you can see everything pretty well," Mutt said, "especially if they have a light colored suit."

"It's enough to draw what I see without going into what can I imagine. That's the artist's discipline." The men nodded, but Mutt looked at him disbelieving.

"All right," Mutt declaimed, "We'll help you out here." Picking up his digital camera, he walked over to the chain link fence separating the pool area from the grass and beckoned Maria over. She came and he whispered in her ear. After giving him a strange look, she said something that caused Mutt to fish out his wallet and produce a crisp Twenty . She took it, waited for him to line up his camera, and pulled her bikini cups apart for him to snap several pictures.

Mutt returned smugly as Maria returned to her friends, who all giggled when she came back to them. Mutt set down his camera in front of Tom and smirked: "All right, you've got the real images. Get to work."

"How much?" Tom asked innocently.

"Two hundred dollars. But I want an oil painting." The guys all laughed heartily, and Mutt was called back by the gaggle of girls gathered at the fence, who beckoned at him urgently. Mutt looked panicked, returned to the table, and whispered: "I don't have any more twenties. Can you help me out?"

A quick solicitation brought enough bills for Mutt to get all the mammary models he could shoot, and he retrieved his camera to immortalize the other girls' endowments. The girls giggled as they flirted with Mutt, playing with their tops and teasing him before giving him what he paid for.

"Damn bastard," Petey said as he put away his wallet. "Always finding new ways to get my money."

"Yep, that's true," Freddie agreed, "it's not bad enough he gets the county's money. He's the main shareholder in the Paradise County Bank, the silent partner in Dan Frank's Real Estate Company, and Rocky Elliot's Construction outfit."

"You wouldn't know it by how much he puts in the collection," Hoot observed. "My granddaughter put more in her envelope than he does."

The girls laughter drifted their direction. "I wish the old goat would just grow up," Tom commented.

Renee sat in the pool up to her waist, apart from the rest of the girls, looking sheepishly at Tom as Mutt took his pictures of her friends' breasts. Her look was questioning, probing, and scared. Tom wondered what made her different from the other girls.

A few days later, Tom was back at the Thriftway. Renee caught his eye as he came through the front door and raised an eyebrow in query. He nodded and went into the store. After loading his cart with a week's provisions, he made certain to use the lane she was sacking, even though the line was a little longer. Sharibeth gave him a coy wink as she scanned his items, but Renee acted cool as she loaded them almost individually into plastic bags.

"Do you need help with this, sir?" Renee asked as she put the last item into his cart.

Tom started to shake his head no, but stopped short. "Of course, young lady. I think I need a little help today."

A swipe of a credit card, a signature, and an unusually warm wish for a nice day from Sharibeth, and they were headed to the parking lot. Tom opened his trunk and they began to load the bags.

"Are you an artist?" Renee asked tentatively.

"Yes. I do graphic design for an outfit in Kansas City, designing greeting cards, but I love to draw and paint in my free time. It's what keeps me sane, in addition to living at the Lake."

"I saw you drawing at the pool a couple of weeks ago. Are you going to use those pictures Mr. Hayes took of those girls?"

"I guess so. He's commissioned at least one painting, good money. I don't know if I'm going to do more than that."

She looked down at the ground and twirled her right foot back and forth on her big toe. "I like to draw."

"Are you good?"

"I don't think so. But I like to do it."

"Why don't you show me one of your drawings sometime?"

"My Grammie burned them last week when she got drunk and mad at me."

Tom thought for a couple of moments. "Tell you what. Why don't you come over to the park when you get off work? I'll bring a couple of sketch pads, and we can draw each other."

A sharp intake of breath, and a frightened gasp. "Will I have to take my top off?"

"No, no, no. You can wear what you want: shirt, dress, swimsuit, even your work clothes. The polka dot bikini you had on last week would be fine. Anything you're comfortable with. I'll take off my polo shirt so you can draw me without clothes from the waist up: that will give you the best shot. If you're good, I'll help you any way I can."

A shy smile crossed the blonde girl's face. "Gosh, Mr. Albright, that would be so nice."

"And you can call me Tom. Since we're fellow artists."

"I get off at 5:00. I can be there by 6:30."

"Plenty of time and sunlight. It's a date."

"T-thanks, Tom."

The Methodist Domino Club gathered again in a few days around 6:00 for the weekly game at the shelter house. The same crew as the week before were there, and the girls were cavorting at the pool again while the boys lurked and lusted from a distance. They splashed and giggled, and when they caught one of the boys ogling them, they flirted shamelessly. The old men decided to play Texas Hold 'Em instead of Mexican Train, and Hoot played dealer as the men bought chips and prepared to play. 

A couple of girls struck some poses for the boys across the way. "Why do they do that?" Hoot asked.

Freddie scratched his bald head. "Guess because they know we're pretty safe. It's female intuition. It's also a safe way to show off for the boys without targeting one in particular."

"Damn straight," Petey said, looking at his hand and considering whether to bet. 

"You got anything on my Maria yet, Tom?" Mutt asked.


Carefree Cove Ch. 01



Tom dug his sketch pad out of his portfolio, and showed him the initial sketch of Maria. A wild smile on her face, her dark hair blowing out and her thumbs hooked in her top to reveal the nipple covered mountains inside. The men looked appreciatively at the drawing, clucking and shifting uncomfortably on the bench. "A good start, Tom," Mutt enthused, "looking forward to the final product."

A junker pulled up and Renee got out, wearing a polka dot bikini with a white shirt draped open over her shoulders. "Deal me out, please; I've got some business tonight," Tom said quickly.

"Robbing the cradle, Tommy?" Mutt jibed, casting a glance at Renee over his shoulder.

"No, she's going to draw for me. If she's any good, I'll give her some help going to school."

Hoot shook his head. "Three generations of trailer trash in that family, Tom. Her mother ran around on his husband and ran off when he shipped out after 9/11. Her dad bought it in Afghanistan, shot during the liberation of Kabul. Her grandmother was a slut too, and now she's drunk most of the time."

"I thought you religious types believed in redemption for all," Tom replied. "Especially liberal Methodists."

"Where there's life there's hope, Tom, but the odds aren't good in this case."

"It's just drawing lessons."

"Make sure it stays that way, Son" Freddy said. "Her granny was a bitch from day one, and now she's a drunk bitch. Be just like her to go after you with a shotgun." He pointed his index finger and sent an imaginary round at him.

"Shit, we're just drawing each other in broad daylight in a park," Tom persisted. "And I've got you guys as witnesses. Since when is that deflowering a virgin?"

"All right, all right," Petey concluded. "We believe you, and we'll stand up for you with Gracie Carter, even if she brings her shotgun."

There was a slight pause before Mutt put his hand to his chin and mused: "It'd be a good thing if you did tap her. Her granny was fantastic at that age."

"Shut up, you old fart." Freddy said, slapping Mutt on the arm with a loud smack. A round of laughter from the quartet accompanied Tom as he crossed the park to a place where two benches could be positioned to face each other.

Renee looked down shyly as she approached him, her dirty bare feet leaving imprints on the grass. "Hi."

"Hello, Renee. You ready?"

"I guess so." Her big toe drew a serpent nervously in the dirt.

"It'll be all right. Here's a pencil and pad. I'll just sit here and you draw me." He beckoned her to sit on a bench as he took off his polo shirt and settled down across from her.

"Are you going to draw me, too?" she said, her head down and her eyes peeked up from under her eyebrows while a slight smile infiltrated her mouth.

"Sure. Let's position you a little."

"Do I have to take anything off? I'm not as stacked as Maria."

"Don't worry about it. Turn sideways on the bench and rest your back on the armrest. Put your legs on the bench"

"Like this?"

"Yeah. Now you can lift your left knee, the one away from me, up to rest your pad. Good. Just relax. Let your shirt hang off your right shoulder. Excellent. How do you want me?"

"Ah, you can just sit there. I mean, sit up straight."

"Do you want me to lean any particular direction?"

"No, I don't think so. How will I do your face?"

"Just tell me when you want to work on it, and I'll look at you. Maybe you should start with that, and tell me when you're done."

She took a long look at him, and put the artist's pencil to paper. After a few deft strokes, she indicated she was ready for him to move his head again. They spent fifteen minutes, drawing quickly, he finishing before she did. Going over when she finished, he looked at her work.

"That's excellent, Renee," he exclaimed. It was an excellent cameo of the man, complete with the cleft in his chin and the wrinkles of his chest. "You have some real talent, kid. Real talent. Ever thought of becoming an artist?"

She nodded her head eagerly. "I'd like to be an artist, but I don't think I'll have enough for college. My Grammie and I don't have a lot of money. She wants me to learn a trade."

"Tell you what, I'll get some papers from Kansas City the next time I'm there, and we'll make an application for a scholarship to the Art Institute. Would you like that?"

"Would I?" She went speechless, and threw her arms around him in a big, bear hug, tears streaming down her face. 

"Great," he said while being strangled. "We'll set it up."

After a few moments, she let him go and wiped her face. Looking at his pad, she indicated that she wanted to see his drawing of her. He held it up.

It was an excellent likeness of her sitting on the bench, her legs up, the pad on her upraised thigh, and her pencil at her mouth as she looked directly back at the artist. Her eyes were intense and compelling, framed by a pug nose, thick lips that bit the end of the pencil, and hair lightly played by the breeze. "That's beautiful. You've drawn me nicer than I look."

"Nonsense, this is exactly how you look and you're lovely. Do you want it?"

Her mood evaporated. "No, no, no, Grammie wouldn't understand. I gotta go back to the pool before the girls think something's up." Giving the materials back to Tom, she scampered back across the grass to the pool.

Tom sighed and held the drawings in his hand. She would probably never get out of this dump the way things looked. Shaking his head, he put both pads back in his oversized bag, put his shirt back on, and started back across to the shelter house. Halfway there he was intercepted by Ashley Harms.

"Hiya," she said, her hair plastered back on her head and her light blue one piece wet, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"Hello," Tom replied.

"You wanna make a drawing of me?"

"Sometime."

"I'll take my top off."

"How old are you?" "Eighteen."

"Can I see your driver's license?"

She pouted and crossed her arms in front of her, lifting her breasts up and deepening her cleavage. "I don't have a pocket for it." Her eyes were dancing in invitation. "Ya wanna draw me? I'll do any pose you want."

Tom shook his head and smiled. "Sometime. Later. Maybe. If you're good."

A twinkle appeared in her eyes. "I can be very good, and when I'm bad, I'm better."

"See you, Mae West." He went on to rejoin his comrades as she waited for a beat before running back to the pool.

The guys were stretching, and Mutt was just raking in a pot when Tom came up. Petey gave him a big toothless grin as he sat down: "You're a strong man, Tom, maybe the strongest I've ever seen."

"Oh."

"Yup. My little girl over there is an expert at leading men around by the balls. She's got three different boyfriends at school, a college boy in Springfield, and neither her daddy or I kin ever say no to her."

Hoot dealt two cards to all present while Freddy pushed a stack of chips in front of Tom. "I hope for your sake Ashley's using protection, Petey," Mutt said.

"Oh, yes. She's on the Pill, and carries condoms in her purse."

"The modern American woman," the resident minister observed.

A few more hands of Hold 'Em, and Freddy put a considerable dent in Mutt's stack of chips. The rest held their own until the sun went down far enough to make the cards difficult for their old eyes to see. They threw everything in carrying cases and made their way to their cars as the pool closed. A few moments later, the most of the girls piled into two cars, wearing shorts over their swimsuit bottoms and roared off toward Seville Hills' only drive in.

Tom took out his digital camera, and took some shots of the sunset. The shadows over the Lake from the outlook drew his attention, and putting his camera down, he noticed Renee watching him beside her car.

When she saw she had his attention, she did some crazy poses next to her car, and Tom obliged her by snapping some pictures. He walked closer and closer, and she flirted with him extravagantly, batting her eyes and giving him 'come hither' looks over her shoulder with lowered her strap. She bent over, and turned to let him see her from many angles, laughing the whole time.

Tom hung the camera around his neck, and turned to go. "All right, all right, that's enough for now. Aren't you going for ice cream?"

"No. I'm a goof. The other girls wouldn't let me, and besides I don't have money." Tom reached for his wallet, but she waved at him. "No, no, I don't like Ice cream, and I've got to go home soon."

"Whatever you say. You really interested in Art school?"

"Yes, yes. I'd do anything to get out of here."

"Grand. I think." 

As he walked toward in his car when a quavering voice sang out: "Do you really think I'm beautiful?" Renee bit her lip shyly as she waited for him.

"Of course I do," Tom replied, "You were the cutest girl at the pool. Your smile and your dimples, the way your eyes light up, are worthy a fortune."

"But Maria's got bigger boobs than me. Ashley's got a nicer butt."

"Your body is absolutely fine. I'm a guy, and I know. There's more to an attractive woman than her body. You're a nice kid, sweet, and I'm sure the right boy is going to fall for you any day now."

"Gosh, thanks Mr. Albright."

"Tom. Call me Tom."

"Thanks Tom." He turned and crossed the parking lot in the waxing moonlight to get in his Camry.

The doors were unlocked, and before he could get the key in the ignition, the passenger door slammed as a small figure darted in beside him. "Wha--"

A finger pressed his lips shut, and Renee whispered in the dark. "That's the nicest thing anybody ever said to me, and I want to thank you." Reaching across him, she reclined his seat and undid his trousers. Long, thin fingers began stroking the whiteness of his shorts, making the big bulge there grow. He laid back in disbelief as his manhood swelled, and the light played off the highlights in the teenager's hair. She fumbled his lower garments down, making his snake rise wetly from its lair as it was released.

"I want to show you I know how to make a man feel good," she whispered, tracing the wetness around the head of his cock and blowing softly and cooly on his flesh. The cock trembled, and her soft hand grasped it and began moving slowly along the shaft. It took seconds for it to grow rock hard, and she gave him a backward look, her eyes sultry, her upper teeth pulling her lower lip anxiously before she hungrily licked her lips. Turning, she engulfed his meat with her soft mouth, her tongue darting manically. 

Tom lay there for several moments, still surprised by the sudden aggression by a shy girl. His right hand rubbed her back as she worked, tracing gentle circles, before moving around and under her bikini top. The fingers quested forward on the soft flesh, until they found the rock hard nipple. They began tracing the aureola, and she quivered. Around and around in faster and faster circles they traveled, the hand pushing the cup out and the fingers making the lightest of contact. She shuddered as she sucked him, her breathing growing harder.

With a pop, she released him and started kissing her way down the shaft. Finding the soft skin of his balls, she murmured: "I'm a bad girl, a bad, bad girl. I need to be punished, that's what Grammy says."

His hand settled on her polka dot covered bottom, stroking and squeezing her ass. He noticed that her tongue work became more electric, so he continued. Renee leaped up and began sucking frantically, her tongue all over his corona.

The hand worked its way under the swim suit to caress the soft skin. Her legs parted slightly, and he cupped each cheek, loving each curve. The middle finger traced her asscrack, moving around and down until it found the little swamp between her legs. He was taller than she was, his arms were long, and he was able to bury his finger easily in her tight little cunt.

A squeal of delight fought to escape her busy mouth, and he started finger fucking her harder and harder as she sucked him. The wetness on his hand increased exponentially, and he was able to slip his third finger into her while his index finger played with her clitoris. Hard moaning was the response, and her breathing grew faster and faster as the seed began building in his balls.

They came together: she sending a flood of juice down on his hand as he jettisoned massive ropes of creams down her willing throat. For several long moments they ejaculated until she released him, her head lolling on his thighs as his hand pulled out to rub her lower back damply.

"My God, this is awesome," she said. "I've never cum this hard before."

Tom took several moments to recover. "Me, neither. Thanks, Renee."

"I didn't know old guys could be this good."

"Experience, baby, experience." She rolled over, her head on his legs, her legs askew and her thighs apart with one knee pointing straight up in the air while the other lolled at a ninety degree angle. He gently pushed aside her left cup, revealing her creamy untanned breast, which he began to trace with lazy circles, moving around and teasing the nipple occasionally. 

She purred and put her hand on his chest. "So awesome, so awesome," she whispered, her left hand stroking her thigh just below her crotch. 

Suddenly looking at her watch, she bolted upright and pulled her top back over her tit. "I gotta go. Almost curfew, and I don't want to get Grammie pissed."

"Okay, don't want to get you in trouble. Thanks, sugar."

She leaned back over and gave him a long tongue kiss, breaking it reluctantly. "Thank you. You make me feel so good. 'Night." With a door opening and closing, she was gone, darting over to her little junker that rattled to life and pulled out of the parking lot into the darkness.

He sat there, his saliva still damp on his dick and her cunt juice still lingering on his fingers. Licking his middle finger, it tasted like honey. "Night, Renee," he murmured.

***********

Five years later. . .

Tom was standing on his deck, looking at the stars. He had just tucked his daughter into bed after telling a story that involved a princess who killed her own dragons. She listened intently before dismissing it, then accepted a good night hug and kiss before laying her curly head on the pillow.

On the wall of her bedroom was a painting of Renee, wearing a polka dot bikini. He looked back and forth from the painting to his daughter, looking for resemblances. Amanda's little face was the image of her mother's as she closed her eyes and drifted quickly off to sleep. At last, he drifted out the door, down the corridor and the stairs and out onto his deck.

He saw the lights of the Smithton house; Michelle was up late. The house was too far away for him to spy on her, but her sexy panache and childlike innocence stirred him like no other in the past five years. A night breeze played with the trees and made the stars above swim on the air currents; the moon was just starting to peek over the horizon.

Her image swam into his head and filled it. Her brown eyes, her smoky skin, her broad smile, her dewy breasts captured him again, and unthinking he raised his hand to his mouth and tasted honey.

To be continued...



Carefree Cove Ch. 02



Thomas Albright sat up in bed at the beginning of a new day. His bedroom faced east, so the dawn usually served him better than an alarm clock. All was silent in the house: his four year old daughter Amanda wasn't stirring yet. Shaking the cobwebs from his head, he got up, took off his pajamas and hopped into the shower.

As he soaped himself, his manhood stirred fully. He tried to ignore it but it wouldn't go away. Rising himself, he focused on the rest of his routine and succeeded in returning to default position. Since he never knew when his little girl would invade his private space; he only indulged in self gratification when she was visiting her great grandmother.

All was quiet as he descended the stairs in a Mizzou T-shirt and sweat pants. Taking stock, he realized he had no projects going for the greeting card company in Kansas City, so he wouldn't need to telecommute for several days. He could draw or paint as the spirit moved him, although spending time with his daughter would probably take up most of his time. It was a prospect he looked forward to.

Going down to his studio, he started his iMac and leafed through his collection of pictures, raw material he'd used for several paintings Mutt Hayes commissioned for him over the years. A shot of Maria Garcia, a girl the same age as Renee. She was holding the straps of her swimsuit top aside, revealing her generous brown breasts. His mind went back to the day he delivered that painting to Mutt on a bright summer day

*******

A week after his encounter with Renee in the parking lot, Tom delivered his commissioned painting of Maria Garcia to Mutt Hayes. Mutt's home office was a huge wood paneled study with several trophies on the walls, including a huge bass over the fireplace. Two life sized classical Roman statues of Venus stood at either end of the room. The painting was a warm study in browns and reds against a blue background; Maria's teeth dazzled in this fantasy as they never had in real life. Mutt's eyes lit up and fixed on the fleshy mounds presented so richly by Tom's brushstrokes. "Tom, you're a Rembrandt, a Reubens, a Michelangelo. Two hundred and more, my friend, more."

He took the bass off the mantelpiece and hung the picture in its place, beaming proudly. "This will be an icon for me."

"Thanks, Mutt. Glad you like it."

"Did you get her to pose for you?"

"Didn't need it; your picture was enough."

"Excellent."

They regarded the painting for a moment, and Tom asked: "Say Mutt, won't your wife object to this in your study?"

"Sherrie's strictly forbidden to come in here," Mutt said calmly. "Only the housekeeper and I have a key to this room. I told her I dumped my last wife for violating my privacy. She'll stay away."

"You dumped your last wife when you found someone younger and cuter and who could deepthroat you better. But isn't Maria's mother your housekeeper?"

Mutt scratched his face. "Nothing much to worry about, I've got her under control. Oh my God, it'll be so wonderful to look at this while I blow my wad down Carmelita's throat." He closed his eyes and rubbed his crotch grotesquely. "I'll give her a bonus, and warn her if she has a problem with it, I'll call La Migra on her."

Tom shook his head. "You're really something, aren't you, Mutt?"

"Which something would you be talking about?" Mutt sneered, "A thoroughgoing bastard, an arrogant prick, or an avaricious horndog?"

"Yes."

Mutt stood with his hands on his hips and chuckled, still fixed on the new painting. "Of course, my boy, of course. Glad you noticed." He stepped up to hold his hands barely over Maria's breasts, then stepped back again. "How soon can you do the other girls?"

"It'll be a while, Mutt. Work's been a bitch lately, and I want to enter a competition in Chicago in three months."

Mutt tore his gaze away to look at Tom. "Do you want to send this one?" he asked, "I'll be happy to loan it to you."

"No thanks, Mutt. I'd like to do something more rustic, maybe something on my back deck."

"Would have been nice to have this a contest winner, but you know best. Okay, I can wait. If nothing else, I can print out the pictures from the camera and enjoy them in the meantime. No rush."

"Sure."

"Oh, by the way, your little girlie's grandmother got arrested last night." he said smugly.

"I beg your pardon?"

Mutt gave him a searching look. "All right, keep your modesty, but little Renee's granny got arrested for DUI again. Three strikes on her, and she'll have to do hard time, at last."

Tom shook his head, and thought a while. "What about her mother?"

"Whose? Renee's? Ran off when she was 12, hung out in trailer parks in Arkansas, and O'D on Crystal Meth two years ago."

"Any other relatives?"

"None worth mentioning. Gracie's lost track of 'em anyway. Good thing Renee's 18 already, it'll save some paperwork." Mutt pantomimed feeling Maria up again, eyes closed and a rapt expression on his face. 

"Gracie's her grandmother?"

"Yeah," he said dreamily. Snapping out of his reverie, he looked at Tom strangely: "What are you thinking of, becoming a social worker?"

"Of course not. I gotta go."

"Sure, Tommy. Go ahead. Rebound sex is always sweet."

Tom pondered profoundly for a moment to summon his courage. "Go fuck yourself, Mutt."

Mutt smiled in appreciation. "Don't have to Tommy; got people to do that for me. Later."

The curves and hills kept him from speeding to the Thriftway, but he got there in reasonable time. It was 2:00PM, and as Tom went in to ask about Renee, he found her shelving green beans. The store was relatively empty.

Renee's face lit up when Tom approached. "Hi, Tom."

"Hi, Renee. How's it goin'?"

Tears ran down her face. "Awful."

He ducked his head to look her into her watery eyes. "Wanna talk?" She shook her head no. "Are you going to be all right?"

"I'm scared."

"Oh?"

"Yea. There's a couple rough men at the trailer court, and Grammie always had them scared to touch me. I didn't sleep at all last night: I sat up in front of the TV with her aluminum baseball bat on my lap. Now they all know she's gone. . ."

He paused and thought. "You need a safe place to stay?" A tentative nod. "I'll get you a hotel room."

"No, no, no, I don't want to be alone. They know there's only two hotels in town, and they'll look for me. Let me stay with you."

Tom looked at her for several moments. "I don't know if this is a good idea. . ."

"Please, please, please?" Tears flowed down her face. "There isn't anybody else I can trust."

"Okay, okay," he said at last. "You'll need to get your stuff from the trailer, I guess." A nod of the head. "Do you want me to go with you?"

She shook her head. "I'll be all right 'til dark. Don't have much. Sue'll look after the trailer, make sure nobody robs us. She done it before."

"Sue is trustworthy?"

"Yeah, I guess. She done it for us last year when we went to Arkansas."

"All right. Why don't I meet you here after closing? You can follow me."

"Okay." Her eyes filled again. "You're so nice to me, Mr. Albright."

"Call me, Tom."

It happened to be Methodist Domino Club night, and Tom passed the time with his buddies as he waited. Mutt was mercifully absent, and Hoot spent most of the time badmouthing him. Petey and Freddy sang harmony to Hoot's diatribes, while Chigger Jones nodded his head and drank. Chigger was the resident agnostic, an old auto worker, stout and grey headed. Tom didn't remember how he worked his way into the group, but they seemed to know him from antiquity. 

Tom wasn't focused on the game, excused himself from participation, and drew some studies of his old friends as they drank and played Mexican Train. The pool girls were disappointed in the boy's lack of interest that night, gathered around a radio listening to the St. Louis Cardinals against the Cubs.

As the sun went down, the girls strode up en masse, unusually somber and damp. Their hair hung in wet ropes and their suits clung to their wet skin. Maria tapped Hoot on the shoulder: "Is it true what they said about Renee's Granny?"

Hoot looked her up and down, then her companions. "What did you hear?"

"That they're going to lock her up for ten years."

"No, I doubt that. She was caught drivin' drunk for the third time, and now she'll have to spend a few months in jail."

"She's too old to go to jail," Ashley cut in.

"No, she's only 60. Anyway, they don't put a time limit on when you can go to jail. Any of you see Renee today?"

Sharibeth spoke up: "Yeah, she went to work today. Punched out early, guess she went to see her Grammie."

"Any of you going out to check up on her?" Hoot asked.

"Why?" Ashley asked. "None of us really like her that much. We can't keep her away from the pool or school, but she's such a wuss. Besides, that trailer park's just awful, we're scared to go there."

"It would be the Christian thing to do," Hoot observed. The other old men nodded their heads gravely in agreement.

"No way," Sharibeth whined. "Like Ashley said, it's too scary out there and we don't like her that much anyway. She'll be all right, I guess."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, but I guess I can't make you," Hoot rasped. "I am disappointed with you, all of you. Go ahead, you girls need to get to your own homes." There were a series of chuckles in reply; most of them were going to the drive in after showering and changing.

They turned to go back to the pool, but Maria went over to Tom and whispered in his ear: "Did Mr. Hayes like his painting?"

"Yes," Tom whispered back. "Did you?"

"Oh, yeah, thanks for showing it to me."

Tom drew closer to Maria's ear: "Not too loud; Mr Hayes thinks he's the only one who'll see it."

"Okay. The other girls are looking forward to their paintings."

"It'll be a while. Tell them not to hold their breaths"

"Bye." Maria turned to go back, revealing a full backside every bit as shapely as her frontside. A couple of steps and she was bounding full tilt, her backside bouncing recklessly.

The old men dispersed on shaky legs to drive home illegally. Tom went with them, making sure to follow Hoot at a distance lest he notice the turn for the rendezvous. Renee's junker was waiting for him in the Thriftway parking lot; Tom pulled in beside her to talk driver's window to driver's window.

"Hi," he started, "You ready?" She nodded. "You got a cell phone?" A shake of the head. "Okay, I'll make sure you're in my rear view window. If you lose me, just keep going and you'll find me again. Understand?" Another nod. "Okay, here we go."

He pulled out on the empty road and followed her lights pulling out behind him in the mirror. Carefree Cove was ten miles away from the village of Seville Hills, but this drive seemed like a marathon. The fading light gave the woods an eerie look as the headlights carved a path through them. This wasn't going to be the first time Tom had a woman stay with him, or even the first night of an indefinite stay, but Renee's vulnerability scared him. He took deep breaths and tried to focus so he wouldn't be entirely erect the whole way home.

Tom's house was an A-frame dwelling, with the second floor being glass on both ends. A circle drive lead up to the house on the hilltop, and Tom made sure Renee found a spot off the drive to park. Grateful for the dim light that hid his half-boner, he called out: "You need help carrying anything?"

"No," came the feeble reply. Tom bounded up the stairs and unbolted his front door. A quick look to make sure nothing was amiss, and he flipped the outside light, immediately drawing a squadron of grotesque night flyers. Looking back, he saw the image of her cautiously ascending the rock pavers to his front door: blond hair disheveled, eyes red and leaking, wearing a maroon jacket over a white tube top, micro-mini jean skirt and bare feet in red flip flops. She carried a duffel bag over one shoulder while the other arm embraced a huge teddy bear half her size.

He backed through the door to hold it open for her. "Welcome," he said in his most friendly tone as she crossed the threshold. 

"Thanks," she murmured.

"Let me show you to your room."

"Thanks."

He led her up to the front guest room. "Here's your room as long as you need it. Clean sheets on the bed, walk in closet, and a full bathroom, so you can have a long, hot soak if you need it. There is a lock on the door, which you are free to use. Make yourself at home."

"Thanks." Tom pulled the door shut and moved softly to the padded loft stairs that ran down the front entrance side of the Great Room. The air conditioning seemed at a good level, and he briefly pondered lighting a fire. Then, his attention went another direction: he'd baked cookies for Petey's smaller grandchildren the day before, and some leftover cookies with cold milk would probably help Renee feel better. He bustled in the kitchen to prepare the snack, but a chime from his computer distracted him. A series of e-mails from Kansas City needed to be addressed right away, and that led him to several other inquiries, including location of the police report of Grace's arrest.

It was a half hour later when he opened the refrigerator door to pour the milk and assemble the cookies.

Taking a tray up the stairs, he knocked on the door. "Come in," came the invitation.

"I've got some milk and cookies for you," he said as he entered the room.

"Great. I'm in here." The resonance indicated she was in the bathroom.

Bringing the tray, he pushed through the half open door and almost dropped it when he discovered her naked in the tub. A momentary disorientation, and he saved himself and his offering.

Renee looked at him with a huge smile on her face. She made no effort to cover her nudity. "Those look wonderful. Thanks, Mr. Albright."

"Tom, please, Tom."

"Thanks, Tom." She took a cookie and started to eat it daintily. Renee's skin was almost pure white, with a few body blemishes on her legs. Her leg hair was very light blond and wispy, as was her pubic hair. Her small, perfect breasts hung high and proud, her nipples perking in the cool air. Her hair was very damp but clean, her face scrubbed. Red nail polish adored her finger and toenails.

"Have a seat, you don't have to be embarrassed. I feel so safe here with you."

"I'm glad."

"Have a seat."

Tom lowered the toilet lid and sat on it. She touched his knee and stroked it. "Renee, I'd like to talk about a couple of things," he began uncertainly.

"Okay."

"I don't want to make you feel pressured to do anything. You're here because I want you to be safe. I know that night in the parking lot. . ."

"Was the best night of my life." Her eyes gleamed in admiration.

"Yes. Even so, you're much younger than I am, and you need a safe space. When you're here, you never have to worry about waking up to find me next to you."

"That's nice, Tom, but don't you want me to sleep with you?"

"Ah, I'll take the fifth on that one, but you need to get adjusted with your grandmother's situation, and trust me, sex is the last thing that should happen tonight. You need some rest after your sleepless night last night, and you don't need to feel like you have to pay for your room with your body."

She stroked his legs and smiled broadly. "My knight in shining armor."

"Well, those knights weren't always nice. Anyway, I'm going to leave you now, I want you to stay in here until morning, and go to work when you're scheduled."

"I'm not on the schedule tomorrow. They fired me today."

"Oh. How come?"

"That little snitch Sharibeth told the boss I was stealing apples and bananas whenever I wanted a snack. She's the one who's been doing it, but nobody'll believe me. I caught Sharibeth fucking the manager doggy style in the stock room last week, so she gets her way."

Tom shook her head. "Guess that doesn't surprise me."

"The other girls are the same way. Maria gives blow jobs to any man she thinks will help her, and little Ashley Harms is a major league slut, too. . ."

"Well, we'll talk about the rest of the world's problems in the morning. I'm tired and I need to rest. You will, too."

"You're so wonderful, Tom," she said, beaming at him.

"Thanks. 'Night."

"Night." He closed the door behind him, glimpsing Renee leaning back to savor her cookie as she soaked. Making sure the extraneous inside lights were out, he took a glass of Amaretto to his room with him and locked the door behind him.

The next morning dawned bright and clear. Tom's eyes flipped open at the sound of bacon frying in the kitchen. There was also a smell of baking, sharp and cinnamony. Putting on his Mizzou sweats, he padded down the stairs to the kitchen area to discover Renee, wearing sweats, hard at work.

"Good morning, Tom," she smiled brightly. I'm almost ready for you."

"Where did you get this?"

"It was in your refrigerator and on your shelves. Grammie and I used to cook from scratch all the time; we didn't have the money for prefab food. Grammie was really old fashioned."

Tom blinked, and reached to put the coffee on, finding it was already made. The first cup was like ambrosia.

"Anyway, I needed to move around a bit," she said. "Can I go swimming in the cove later?"

"Yeah, sure. It's all right during the day, but at night there's copperheads."

"Right, copperheads."

"There's also a nice trail through the woods, if you want to take a hike. The Smithtons next door don't like surprises, so you probably better not approach their house. Check yourself for ticks regularly, too."

"All right, dad, if you say so. Ready for bacon and a cheese omelet?"

"Bring it on."

He spent the morning on the computer doing business before cooling off in his semi- private cove before lunch. As he waded, he made a resolution to clean the brush off a tiny island that stood at the entrance of the lake. It would be big enough for a lounger to greet the sunrise. The water was a perfect temperature: not too warm and not too cool. A fish bumped him a couple of times as he waded out, but he strode up the pathway to his house whistling, his equipment flopping extravagantly.

He was dry enough when he entered the house to run up to his bedroom. When he got there, he remembered he had company and had just walked naked to the Lake and back without a care in the world. There was no sign of Renee, so he thought he got away with it. Turning on the taps, he got ready to shower.

As the suds sluiced off his skin, he heard the bathroom door open. He turned to see a distorted figure enter and reach for the door. It opened, and Renee stepped into the shower, sinking almost immediately.

"What are you doing here?" he asked sheepishly.

"Something I've done before," she said calmly, grasping his wet cock in her hand. It sprang to life immediately, and her cool breath encouraged its resurrection. "I know I'm safe here, and I don't have to do this." Her thick lips creased in a huge, toothy smile before they formed the wet, warm circle that engulfed the object of their desire. She let him go with a pop. "But I want to, I really want to," she whispered huskily before sucking his penis in.

He reached down and touched her hair. She hummed, and his fingers probed her earlobes. Around and around they swirled, and she took more and more of him into her suck. Her nose was lost in his pubic hair and she could still not get enough. 

Like the tension before a lightning strike, his testicles quickly filled with sperm and jetted out time after time until he thought he was going to pass out from the sensation. She sucked every drop down, licking the corona to get every stray drop, circling the head with her tongue. At last she broke her mouth's embrace of his manhood, licking down the shaft to tease his balls before leaning back in triumph.

Tom managed to lurch out of the bathroom and over to the bed before he sank to his knees, still wobbly from his ejaculation, and took a couple of deep breaths. Renee had a gleam in her eyes as she followed him, a light he'd never seen there before. She started to giggle, sitting on her haunches, her breasts swaying slightly at her humor.




Carefree Cove Ch. 02



Suddenly, Tom pushed her over flat on her back and began tickling her hard. She convulsed and screams of laughter resounded. His bearded face started rubbing back and forth on her stomach, feeding her glee, until it dropped into her crotch. Her laughter shifted abruptly to sharp intake of breath, then moans as the silky hair began to stroke her slit back and froth, then up and own. 

Laying back, she put her hands on his head and shrieked at the first touch of his tongue on her clitoris. "My God, Tom! No-one has ever done that to me! My God, my God, this is so awesome! I think I'm going to come unglued! Yaaah!"

The beard rubbed her crotch and tickled her thighs and the tongue and lips explored her labia and probed her slit. Her body went into overdrive, and he licked faster and faster, circling her clitoris, his finger probing her cunt. She started to buck and yelp, breathing faster and faster until she let go a gusher all over Tom's beard. He licked up every bit of nectar he could, as she writhed in her orgasm.

Full five minutes of panting followed as they lay in a pile together. Renee suddenly sat up and buried her head in Tom's chest: "Help me, Tom. I'm all alone in the world. Let me stay. I'll love you for the rest of your life."

Tom's mouth was open at the sudden embrace, and he put his arms around her head. "Sure, honey, I'll look after you. Don't worry. I'll take care of you, I'll teach you how to paint and I'll show you the world. What do you say to that?"

"Yes," she shrieked, trembling. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!"

**********

Five years later. . .

Amanda was still asleep when Tom peeked in on her in the early morning light. A painting of her mother Renee hung on the wall. It was a copy of an original award winning painting of their back deck five years ago, with Renee lying in her polka dot bikini on a lounger, pad resting on her upraised leg, sunglasses pulled back on her head, her pencil stuck in her pondering mouth. Her father's eyes followed hers to the portrait, done almost exactly five years before, begun the afternoon Renee moved in with Tom.

He loved the painting more than any he'd done for Mutt Hayes. There was a warmth that eluded the other work he did. The portrait recalled everything for him: the softness of her skin, the luster of her hair, the roundness of her hips. A taste filled his mouth again, and he was ashamed to be this lost in sensual memory. 

A voice broke his revere: "Mommy was very pretty, wasn't she, Daddy?"

"She sure was, punkin."

"Will I ever be as pretty as she was?"

"Prettier, baby. Prettier. In every way."

The little girl stood in the doorway in her oversized Winnie the Pooh t-shirt that served as her summer nightdress. She scampered across the bed and gave him a butterfly kiss on the cheek. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love, you punkin."

"Don't be sad, Daddy."

He blinked back a tear. "Can't help it, sugar. Give me a minute; it'll pass."

"Okay, Daddy."

He hugged her and stroked her hair. "Do you mind playing by yourself for a while after breakfast? I want to do some drawing this morning."

"Sure, Daddy. Draw something really pretty for me."

"You bet, sweetheart."

He fixed them Amanda's favorite breakfast of strawberries and waffles, which she nibbled before running off to start her computer in the great room. They lived in an A frame house: the great room took up half the interior space with a huge fireplace. Part of it next to the sliding glass doors served as the dining room, used only for supper, and a long, open stairway led up to the bedroom level. A smaller room off the big room was the TV room, as well as a guest room, a bath, the kitchen and a mechanical room. Upstairs were three bedrooms, one converted into a home office and two baths; downstairs was a large space that served as primarily as Tom's studio with a portion as Amanda's primary play space. Facing the Lake of the Ozarks was a huge deck with a stairway to the path to the dock. 

Tom took his iced tea onto the deck to enjoy the morning light before the high heat set in. He brought a pair of binoculars for birdwatching, and his sketchpad and pencil, in case he saw a bird he wanted to draw. Many of his greeting card designed featured a bird in its natural habitat.

Across the way, he could see the Smithton house, partially occluded by greenery, with a clear view of its deck. He started to sketch the house in the morning light when the door opened and Michelle Hawkins stepped out into the sunlight. She wore a light, pink nightgown, her hair tied in a bun on top of her head, and she carried a mug of coffee in her hand. 

Turning, she saw him and picked up her phone. A moment later, the cordless set by Tom's side rang. "Good morning, Tom. How's it going this morning?"

"Fine, Michelle, fine. You?"

"Just wonderful. It's such a glorious morning, so peaceful here. Where's Mandy?"

"She's off playing. I think she'll be tied up for a while playing computer games."

"See anything you like from your deck this morning?"

Tom smiled although he was sure she couldn't see it from her distance. "Have to say it's gorgeous out this morning. Just making a pencil sketch of your house in the morning light."

"How sweet. Maybe you'll show it to me later."

"Sure, happy to. I think I'll take Amanda down for a dip just before lunch."

"Around 11?"

"Maybe 10:30. She'll be restless by then."

"I'll join you."

"Great. 'Bye."

"Later, Tom." The breeze from the Lake picked up, and moved the branches of the trees. Tom went back to his work, evoking the lines of the Smithton house deftly. The sunlight brightened as the sun moved higher in the sky.

A movement on the other deck drew his attention, and his picked up his binoculars to see what it was. Michelle was raising her hands to undo her hair, letting it flow in the zephyrs. A motion around her waist and her robe slipped down revealing her voluptuous form in all its wonder. Zooming in, he could almost see her nipples perking in the breeze. She stood still, knowing he saw her, posing for him.

Her form appeared on his pad, full and graceful on the Smithton's deck, hair flowing back, her hands resting on the railing, her breasts hanging ripely. Tom bit his lip to keep his focus, and tried to remember he couldn't just run across the way to carry this woman off.

"Hi, daddy, what'cha doin'?" Amanda called through the doorway.

"Just drawing a picture," her father replied.

"Good. I think I'm going to draw for a while, too. Can I come out there?"

"Maybe later, sweetheart. Do you want to go swimming later?"

"Duh, Daddy, duh. How soon?"

"How about 10:30?"

"Is my friend Shelley goin' to be there?"

"I think so."

"Hurray. I'll just draw 'till then." Little feet pounded down the stairs to the studio, where Amanda's art resources lay.

The phone rang again; caller ID showed it was Michelle. "Hi, Tom. How's the drawing going?"

Tom took a deep breath. "Better than I hoped. Your house is especially beautiful this morning, but I can't put my finger on exactly why. . ."

"I bet you can't, although you want to."

"That's not fair."

"Who said I had to be fair? You done with me, or do you need me to stand out here a little longer."

"I could look at you like that all day," he blurted out before his brain interceded.

"Well, baby, you sure know how to brighten a girl's day. You want to come over for a minute? Borrow a cup of sugar?"

Tom looked at her standing on her deck, the phone at her ear. A peek through his binoculars showed a broad, inviting smile on her face. "Oh my, I'd love to, but I can't leave Amanda alone."

"No?"

"No. When I need time to myself I take her to Gracie's house, Amanda's great grandmother."

"That would take a while, going into town and back. Kinda ruins spontaneity, but I understand. Been then, coped with that. All right, sugar, we'll work something out eventually."

"You're not fair."

"Who said I had to be fair?" 

Tom winced again. Another peek through his binoculars; she cupped her breasts and juggled them a little for him, up and down in counterpoint, then she squeezed her nipples. 

"You're bad," he said.

"Guilty. Coming over?"

"Want to. But I have to stay. We'll see you at the lake in a while."

"You're the most devoted daddy I've ever known. See you later." She hung up and across the way she slipped her nightgown back on and went back into the house.

Tom finished his sketch in a few more pencil strokes and took it up to his office. Sounds from the studio as he passed told him Amanda was safely occupied. He sat at his desk and opened his e-mail to find a note from Mutt Hayes.

There was an image: it was a scan of the last painting he did for Mutt. Ashley Harms was presented as a victim of the Inquisition: bound naked in iron cuffs, hands over her head, stretched out and screaming as a hooded Inquisitor held red hot implements close to her pale, white skin. The lurid dungeon was crowded with several fearful items, and Ashley's form seemed to write in the picture, vainly seeking escape. He smiled evilly to himself, satisfied. The e-mail read:

Hey, Tom. This is the best. I love what you did to Ashley, the little bitch. Wish I could set this up for her in real life. You get four hundred for this one, my friend.

Hear you have a beautiful new neighbor. You planning on tying her down and keeping her for yourself, or are you going to bring her out to meet the boys sometime? Maybe you could do a picture of her for me if you're going to keep her to yourself.

Mutt

Tom grimaced as he read the note. Mutt Hayes was a charter member of the Dirty Old Men's club; as far as he could tell, Mutt was all show and no go, but he could be wrong. Mutt was also know to trade in a wife with some milage for a more recent model.  

He got up and paced the room, seething. His imagination was full of images of Mutt wining and dining Michelle, seducing her with glib words, flattering her and boasting of his riches. His mouth contorted as he imaged the old man putting his old wrinkled hands on her warm brown skin, leaving oily trails across her luscious breasts and down her belly toward her mound.

"Daddy, it's 10:30," Amanda said from the office door, "Shelley's going to beat us there.". Her arms were crossed in front of her bare form, tapping her toes on the carpet in anticipation. "Is somethin' wrong, Daddy? You look mad."

Tom shook his head. "Nothing, sweetheart. Just a bad memory. I'll be down in a minute."

"All right, Daddy. Hurry!" She flashed down the corridor and down the stairs.

Tom went back to his bedroom, disrobed and put on his trunks and swim shoes. Taking deep breaths, he tried to flush the bad daydream from his mind as he prepared to walk the difficult line of being his little girl's playmate and his neighbor's aspiring lover.

To be continued...



Carefree Cove Ch. 03



It was another August Wednesday, another meeting of the Methodist Domino Club of Seville Hills, MO. They sat in the park next to the community pool on benches, analyzing the problems of the world as the local teenage society played out nearby. All but one were comfortably plump old men, with little or no hair, little or no teeth, and prune wrinkled skin. The only one who wasn't was a much younger man of fifty one with a full beard, a full head of hair, and a slightly full figure. The head of a four year old wearing a white swimming cap approached them, raised up and demanded: "Sing the song, Daddy! Sing the Song!"

Tom Albright sat forward and started singing: "That's my daughter in the water. . ."

"He needs help! Help him!" Amanda Albright demanded.

Tom's companions Hoot Pidgeon, Freddy Kleinschmidt, Petey Harms, Mutt Hayes, and Chigger Jones immediately joined in: ". . .everything she owns I bought her/ everything she owns. . ."

A group of six teenaged girls across the pool giggled at the old men's chorus. Only Hoot had any sense of pitch, two were singing an octave lower and the other two in random disharmony. Amanda paddled back and forth in front of them, beaming at the attention from her daddy and her uncles by adoption.

"Ya know, Tom," Mutt mused after they finished, "it's been more fun to come out here since you started bringing Mandy with you."

Tom looked at Mutt with amazement. "Really? After all the kids you've had running under your feet I thought she'd be just another irritation."

"No, Mandy's smart, sweet, and at the end of the day, she goes home with you. And she gives us an excuse to sit next to the pool, my eyesight's going, and I can hardly see them from the shelter house any more."

The teenagers could hear that of course, and laughed heartily. It was a different group than five years ago, all around 18, and just as interested in attracting male attention. The other old men nearby smiled at Mutt's observation with their heads down, determined not to let their granddaughters see them.

Directly across the parking lot was another group of young boys hanging around a couple of old cars, talking and smoking cigarettes. They all wore sunglasses, t-shirts and jeans. All were classmates of the girls in the pool. Their eyes followed the girls as well, hungry for blossoming womanhood on display, but they lacked the testicular fortitude to approach them. Tom could see their lips moving around their cigarettes, talking about the same kind of things their grandfathers did, with just as much purpose and lack of realization. Tom spotted Freddy's grandson and Hoot's twin nephews in their midst. The old men ignored them. 

The girls decided to try their skills on the high diving board. Monica Hayes bounced up and down on the board far too many times, letting her puppy fat jiggle shamelessly in her low cut, grey, one piece suit before doing a flip into the water. She made a point to surface near the men, her nipples erect as she awkwardly got out of the water and shook her hair in front of them shamelessly before walking back. Grandpa Mutt clapped his hands in incestuous admiration.

Tammy Kleinschmidt was next, wearing a skimpy yellow bikini that did nothing to hide her charms. As she bounced on the high board, her right breast came out of her suit. Embarrassed, she just stepped off the board and went down like a lightning bolt, feet first. When she came up, her top was in place, but she already had the boys' appreciation, which she acknowledged with a shy smile.

"I want to go off the high board, daddy," an insistent voice nearby warbled.

Tom turned toward Amanda, standing near him next to the pool. "No, baby, you're not big enough yet," he replied.

"I dive off the dock all the time back home."

"No, sweetheart. It's not the same thing. Not yet."

"But, Daddy. . ."

"Amanda Joy Albright. You are not going to do it. You are not big enough, or old enough. When it's time, I'll see you get lessons. Understood?"

A pause. "Yes, Father, understood," came the whimper. Chigger clapped Tom on the back in appreciation of his successfully exercised authority.

"Here comes my little Tabitha," Hoot said. "Cupping his hands to his mouth, he shouted: "C'mon, precious, show'em how it's done." Tabitha Smoot's body was longer and leaner than the other girls, and she waved from the board at her grandfather before she jumped up and down to try a back somersault. Her pink suit stayed firmly in place, but it showed the boys what they wanted to see when wet.

Mutt whistled and clapped. The old men sipped their drinks and sat in silence for a few moments. Mutt began,"Hoot, your kid is a cute one, I'll give you that, but. . ." 

A chorus of shrieks and giggles from the pool cut Mutt off in mid sentence. A pool volleyball game was beginning, three girls per side, leaping up to keep the ball in play and threatening the integrity of the swimsuit tops. The men murmured to one another at a level they could hear and the girls couldn't:

Monica came up from underwater with her cups askew again; the men and boys enjoyed the sight of wet, brown tipped ice cream mounds uncovered. It was their lucky day: she didn't notice she was exposed until the long rally was over. She shrieked and giggled as she ducked down to rearrange herself underwater.

A shrill voice, silent for a while, demanded: "Sing the song, Daddy!"

The older men's reverie was broken and they began their ragged chorus again: "That's my daughter in the water. . ."

Having re-established herself as the center of attention, Amanda paddled to the middle, crouching down to do her synchronized swimmer impersonation. The men kept singing as long as she performed for them, breaking occasionally to laugh at her antics; the old men were well rehearsed in meeting her demands. The girls resumed their volleyball game and the boys continued their dreaming of lusts fulfilled.

Amanda finished, and turned to notice a new car pulling up, a convertible. Tom looked over to see who is was and noticed the woman get out of the car. She wore a wide brimmed, floppy hat, a low cut, white, one piece swim suit, and a wrap around skirt. Her skin was perfectly tanned, neither dark brown and leather rough nor egg white naked. Her body was neither extremely lean nor chubby: her hips were nicely rounded and the curves of her legs and breasts were ample. Carrying a large bag, she went over to the pool house and disappeared inside.

The little girl swam back over and said to her father: "Shelley's here, daddy, Shelley's here."

"I saw her, baby. I saw her."

"Shelley's here." The little girl splashed her hands extravagantly in the water in excitement, the other small children around her wading quickly away aghast at her energy.

A few moments later, Michelle Hawkins entered the pool area, slowly and gracefully as the queen of England. Her wrap around was gone, and her suit was cut high enough to show off her graceful legs and rounded butt to best advantage. Her cleavage was deep, presenting her tear drop breasts powerfully, without a tan line in sight. The men realized to their disappointment that her top was secure, showing much but denying more, and not likely to slip. 

With an almost audible click, all ten eyes on the bench settled on the newcomer. Freddy was the first to speak: "We been hanging around princesses, but boys, the Queen has just arrived."

"There's enough woman there to be continued on the next girl," Petey observed,

Mutt was speechless for a moment. "Coo, coo, ca-choo, Mrs. Robinson," he murmured at last.

When Michelle entered the pool area, the shades came off and the male mouths dropped. The boys locked their eyes on the woman old enough to be their mother. One boy's cancer stick fell to the ground, unnoticed. 

The men looked agape as Michelle lowered herself into the water, the girls volleyball game ignored. Her nipples rose as the cold water hit her, then relaxed again as she adjusted to the temperature. A small white swimming cap made her way over. "Hi, Shelley," Amanda chirped. "Glad you made it."

"Oh, I'm glad I had the time, Mandy. You ready to swim with me?"

"Sure." Michelle dove gracefully sideways and began swimming toward the men in a typical Australian crawl. She was slow enough that Amanda could keep up with her without tiring. The woman's flip at the got the old men a little wet, but none of them minded. The game stopped, and the girls looked on with mixed disdain and jealously.

After a few turns, she got out of the pool and laid down on a lounger across from Tom and his friends. The teenage boys started a slow, chaotic amble toward the shelter house for a better view. The girls restarted their game in a vain attempt to distract themselves and recapture their audience. Amanda got out of the pool and laid down in a lounger beside her friend.

Chigger whistled lowly to himself. "Hey, Tom, isn't she your neighbor?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Well, what's her name?"

"Her name is Michelle Hawkins, and she's from back east somewhere. Baltimore area, I think. She's got a night job at the child care center, seems to like it. Hasn't said anything about her family yet, but if you look closely, there's a white spot on her finger where a wedding ring used to be."

"So you think she's a divorced?" Mutt asked anxiously.

"No, Mutt, she's the astronaut who drove 900 miles wearing a diaper," Hoot snapped.

"Don't get so defensive," Mutt backtracked. "After all I'm a married man."

"That never stopped you before," Hoot murmured. The other men turned and nodded assent.

"Oh, Reverend Pidgeon? Like you're immune to temptation? I know what happened at Springwater twenty five years ago; if that'd happened today, they'd toss you out on your ear quicker than you could say Jack Robinson. Freddy Kleinschmidt and Petey Harms: we were in the Navy together, and you two were able to forget the girls who had your picture on their piano quite a few times, even when we went to the reunion in St. Louis three years ago. Our friend Thomas has an illegitimate daughter by a girl who'd graduated from High School the year before: that used to mean something in the good old days. I don't doubt our friend Chigger Jones has something still itching him from his past; I can tell by the smirk on his face that he does, and he doesn't think he has a God to answer to. So don't go pointing your righteous fingers at me, friends. I'm no different than any other red blooded American man."

"I guess not," Hoot intoned. "No different than any other red blooded American man who only thinks with cock."

Mutt shook his head. "I knew that giving up beer because of the little girl was a bad idea. We're not drunk enough, and I'm going to remedy that. Good night, gentlemen, Reverend Pidgeon." He stood up quickly enough to wobble a little, then strode quickly to his car in the lot, giving the girls a couple of quick looks and a nod to his spawn hanging out at the shelter house.

The volleyball game stopped as the girls jumped out of the pool, soaking wet, to rest on the side of the pool. One of them came over and talked to Amanda for a moment, and the little girl trotted over to her father."

"Daddy," she said, "Monica and her friends want you to take their pictures with me."

"Of course, baby. Tell them they can come over and I'll take your pictures."

She turned and waved them over excitedly, and Tom pushed the buttons that turned his cell phone into a camera. The girls took turns posing with the four year old, standing behind her to flirt outrageously with the old men as they went through many combinations. The boys across the way were gesturing to each other and digging into each other's ribs, flecks of conversation drifted across that were full of boasts and promises. Amanda was beside herself with delight in having so many friends who would obey her orders about who was next. 

Michelle watched all this serenely from across the pool, and Tom snapped a couple of shots of her in passing. The boys at the shelter house turned their cell phone cameras on her and she subtly adjusted her posture to give them better shots without being obvious.

Chigger focused on Michelle across the pool. "That woman is enough to make a man believe in a just and loving God."

*********

Almost five years earlier. . .

Tom awakened in his bed. The bright October morning sun reflected off the fading greenery around the house; a few touches of light red and brown were touching the leaves as autumn approached. He should get out of bed and figure out what he was doing today: he got back late the night before with Renee from a couple of days in Kansas City. The meetings at the corporation went well, they visited some of his favorite restaurants, and she took a liking to his favorite Tibetan Art. 

The Art Institute as impressed by her work, and willing to give her a scholarship in a year's time. Renee was excited by the appreciation of her work, spending almost all her free time drawing. Tom was happy to give her constructive criticism and encouragement.

He looked over to see her sleeping head. Was it really two months they lived together? It was all a blur; he couldn't remember what it was like not to wake up next to her. Despite their age difference, they had bonded quickly. Renee never said a word about her life prior to the night he rescued her from the trailer park. None of her relatives showed up looking for her, and she refused to contact her grandmother in jail. Grace Carter had gotten an 18 month sentence for her third DUI, and it didn't seem to faze Renee. His hand caressed the sleeping blonde head and he wondered what kind of life she had before he met her. 

Her eyes fluttered open. She smiled and muttered: "Good morning, sweetheart."

"Good morning."

"What would you like for breakfast?"

"We don't need to worry about that for a while."

She smiled and snuggled against him. He usually wore a t-shirt and boxers to bed, but she was used to sleeping in the nude. Her leg embraced him, taking care to touch the bulge in his boxers. "So you're hungry for something else right now?" she whispered in his ear.

He kissed her. "You could say that."

"Okay." Pressing her whole body against him, she started kissing his face from ear to ear. He could feel her breasts pressing against his chest as his arms closed tightly around her. The bulge in his shorts got larger and firmer, and he could smell her musk as she anticipated its full deployment. She snaked her thin hand down to pull back his underwear and softly grasp his shaft.

Rolling onto his back, he pulled back the covers and removed his shorts. Her body immediate spun around so she could embrace his genitals with her lips, licking and sucking just as he liked it, teasing and darting with her silken tongue before engulfing him completely in her mouth.

His hand snaked around behind her, and touched the cleft, rubbing it lengthwise. She loved this; he pushed downward until he came around and up to her sweet valley from behind. His left middle finger probed into her slickness and he heard her take a sharp breath through her nose. 

The phone rang, and they ignored it.

Just when he thought he could bring her to climax, she hopped off and sat on his cock, driving him deep inside her with one thrust. They started pumping slowly, she bent down for a long French kiss, before rising up. He reached up and massaged her breasts, she leaned over to give him better access. Moving up and down in synchronicity, they reveled in the sensations of being one physically and spiritually. He could hardly believe what a tight fit they made; it was better than any lover he ever had.

The wind played violently with the trees as his fountain rose inside her. Pelvic muscles milked him dry, then spasmed on their own with its beloved still deep inside. She fell on top of him, breathing heavily, and they spent several sweaty moments entwined.

As he took the juice and milk from the refrigerator after arriving downstairs, he heard a distant retching and the flow of water from the plumbing. Taking the steps two at a time, he stuck his head in the bathroom and asked, "You all right, sugar?"  

She was kneeling by the porcelain throne, wiping her mouth as the water finished returning to the bowl. "Yeah. I'm all right."

For an long awkward moment their eyes were locked, his quizzically and hers frightened. "I got something to tell ya."

"Yes."

"You'll think I'm stupid."

"No, I won't, sugar."

"I can tell you're suspicious."

"What?"

"You've been like that for a week."

"No, really. These meetings in Kansas City always make me nervous. The way corporate America is today, nobody's safe, and even though I've got a significant amount of stock and options, I'm always worried something will bite me in the ass."

She nodded unbelievingly. "You're probably wondering why I'm barfing in the morning."

"No. We went to a sushi restaurant last night before we came home; you're not used to raw fish."

"I've been barfing every morning for two weeks, just after I missed my period."

A long pause which the wind violently tossed the branches outside. "Oh. I didn't notice. I see."

A nod of the head. "I used a pregnancy test last night. It's pink."

"Oh." He froze in place, not thinking. "We need to confirm this."

"Yeah, I guess so." They spend another moment in awkward silence. The coffeemaker chimed downstairs. 

"What do you think about that?" he asked awkwardly.

She looked down. "I thought you'd be mad at me."

He knelt down beside her. "I should be apologizing to you. I should have asked; I just assumed you were on the Pill."

"No," she said, shivering. "I'm not."

"Oh."

"If I am pregnant. . ."

"Yes."

"I want to keep the baby, your baby. You're such a beautiful man, and I love you so much." She reached out and clasped his neck.

Shivering they huddled for several moments. He said at last: "I'm probably too old to be a father."

Pulling back, she cupped his face with her hands. "I don't think so. If God didn't want you to make babies, you'd be shooting blanks."

He laughed and stood up, pulling her up behind him. She hung onto his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. Hugging her hard, then kissing her hard, he laughed again. "I guess not. Okay, we'll make the doctor's appointment to confirm this, and then we'll figure out where we go from there."

She laughed and hugged him.

After breakfast, they sat for a long time on the deck wearing white robes on an usually warm morning. "I've got an idea," he said.

"What?"

"I want do to a series of painting of you. One each month until the baby is born."

"Just like you did that painting for Mr. Hayes? Of Maria topless?"

"No, these will be different. These will be just for us. A beautiful mother-to-be as she comes into full flower. Nature at its essence, nature at its most beautiful. What do you say?'

She paused and bit her lip. "Let's start this afternoon," she said, breaking into an electric smile.

***********

Three months later. . .

"Happy New Year!" Glasses clicked, as the party toasted the New Year. Tom and Renee rang in the holiday in the Manhattan Gallery where Nude in a Missouri Summer, his newly honored painting hung. Tom was ecstatic with the artistic recognition, despite winning a relatively minor contest of contemporary realist painters, but the cash award more than paid for the trip East. It also soothed the soul of a man with artistic vision who ended up designing greeting cards for twenty eight years.

Renee looked radiant in a dark brown sweater and white skirt about calf high boots. She was showing a tiny baby bump, and her morning sickness was history. Her glass held sparkling grape juice, in deference to her nineteen years and her condition. Her hair had grown out and her first trip to a beauty salon had been a revelation.




Carefree Cove Ch. 03



Tom took a long sip from his champagne flute and gave Renee a big kiss, then picked her up and swung her around. "Happy New Year, darling. I love you." His energy belayed his forty-six years.

"I love you, too, Tom." Her smile was tentative, overwhelmed by everything around her. "Can we go back to the hotel yet?"

"I want to say hello to a couple more people," Tom enthused. "There are so many influential people here, and I don't get this chance to network often. Especially with my most beautiful model beside me; I must be the envy of every man here."

"Yes, honey." She smiled against nervously, and looked around. "I don't think all these men are looking for a girl."

Tom looked around briefly. "No, I don't think so either. They don't know what they're missing."

"Honey, I"m tired. We've been standing in museums the past three days and my feet are tired."

"I'll rub your feet, sweetheart, I promise, as soon as we get back."

"I want to fuck."

That got his attention. He looked around; no one was making any more toward the door. "All right, should we get out coats?"

'If we make it that far."

He buttoned his suit coat and took her arm, maneuvering toward the coat room door. A few nods of the head to acquaintances, and apologies propelled them across the floor. One determined fellow in his sixties, owlish man with a thin black line of a moustache, a bow tie and a martini glass stopped them. "Congratulations, Thomas. Quite an accomplishment for you! Imagine, a graphic artist winning an art competition."

"Thanks, Alastair, thanks."

"I look forward to your first abstract."

"Thanks you. Sorry we can't stay. She's getting tired." Tom tried to lead Renee around him, but Quigley moved to stop their advance.

"Can't stay? But the evening is young. And this delicious young woman must be your model. Enchanté, my dear, you are a vision of loveliness." With a greasy elegance, he bowed and kissed her knuckles chivalrously. "And what is your name, dear?"

"Renee, Renee Carter."

"Livingston Alastair Quigley, at your service. What an endearing young woman, and with such a lovely, glowing complexion. Quelle charmant! I wish I had a brush in my hand right now."

"Thanks, Mr. Quigley. I'm flattered." Renee stammered, blushing at the old man's flattery despite herself.

"Alastair, please, and the pleasure is all mine," he enthused between pursed lips. "Thomas, are you doing more work on this young woman?"

Tom's jaw dropped for an instant, but he recovered quickly. "I'm doing a series, Alastair."

"Oh, tell me more." he said, sipping his drink.

"I'd like to, but. . ."

He giggled and smirked viciously. "I know what it is," he said with a broad wink, holding his hand up and warming to the repartee dramatically. "A series: like Monet's haystacks. Woman Coming into Flower." Renee blushed. "Yes, that's it, isn't it? One painting a month, until---the baby is born!?" Tom and Renee looked at each other, disbelieving, then looked away. "Well, you naughty, naughty kids, what wonderful news. Thomas, I can easily see how you can plant your seed within this charming young woman. What red blooded man could resist her? You are immortalizing yourself and her twice: once in your painting and once in your love child. I salute you." He ended with an ornate bow and flourish with his hand.

Tom bowed and said. "I must get her back to her room, Alastair. She is very tired."

Quigley nodded: "Most understandable, Thomas, most understandable. Take good care of this delicate, fair flower; I look forward to seeing her again.:"

They made their escape and found the cloak room. Renee looked around and saw a dark corridor leading off toward the back of the museum. Tom saw it as well, and started leading her down the hallway.

"Where are we going?" she whispered, "I though you wanted to leave."

"I need you now."

"But I'm, I'm, I'm not ready."

"I can fix that." After trying several doors, he found one unlocked toward the other end of the hall and yanked her in.

The room was a third floor workshop, lit by a street light outside. Several pieces sat on the tables in various stages of restoration, mostly statues of lovers in different embraces. "We've found the right place," Renee whispered huskily.

"Wow, look at this stuff."

"Look at this stuff," she redirected, frantically pulling up her sweater, unbuttoning her white blouse and undoing her front clasp bra. He grasped her breasts and started kissing her passionately; she unzipped his fly and pulled his semi-turgid dick from its confinement.

Tom forced her back against the wall kissing her hard and mauling her breasts while she began to jerk him frantically. Two minutes of writhing and the end of his cock was wet in anticipation. Renee forced him back and looked around frantically. Finding a stepladder nearby, she dropped her skirt and lowered her panties, retaining her garter belt and stocking. Stepping on the first rung, she thrust out her ass and looked around. "Get it in me, Now!"

A distant siren reverberated off the walls, but receded quickly. Distant sounds of the continuing party reached them, but seeing they were safe, Tom penetrated Renee after a couple of tries and began pumping her. She held onto the ladder tightly as she thrust back against him, eerily illuminated. Right beside them on the table was a three foot marble statue of Venus, her right hand on her breast and her left outstretched. She seemed to encourage them and they both came quickly.

He held himself inside her for several moments, pressed against the ladder, her tits hanging over one rung, both of them panting heavily. "I'm sorry I've gotten so horny since I've been pregnant," she whispered.

"Don't worry, a lot of men would like to have this problem. My only regret is my dick's going to fall off soon, and there's no way I'm sharing you. Just as long as you remember to give me sex after the baby."

"Okay, I promise." she took a deep breath and let it out. "We need to get out of here."

"Yes. Where did you leave your skirt?" They were only able to locate her skirt in the dim light, and after several anxious seconds they gave up and left without them. 

"Won't this freak out the next person coming in here?" She asked as they retraced their steps down the hallway. "I know finding smelly panties in a place like that would freak me out."

"You don't know artists well enough," he replied. "Not only will it fail to make a stir, they'll probably end up as part of the abstract section."

********

Three months later. . .

"Why do you have to fuck me doggy style every time? I'm getting tired of it." Renee complained. It was an April evening, and the first flowers spread their fragrance through the open windows of the night, distant thunder a warning of a spring storm.

He pumped her vigorously as she knelt on all fours on the bed. "We have to keep my weight off the baby."

"There's lots of ways we can do that. We can hang from the ceiling if we have to. I want to be on the bottom again."

"Soon, sugar, soon. Are you close?"

"No, not quite." He reached forward to fondle her breasts but she stopped him. "No, no, not my tits, not tonight. They're sore again. Rub my clit, honey, rub my clit." His hand snaked down to her crotch and found her nub between her legs. "That's it, baby, rub it, rub it. Oh yes, that's going to do it. Let's come together, honey, please? Please?"

"I can't promise that honey. You're farther along than I am."

"Try, Tom, try. I'd like us to cum together once, please." She redoubled her pace, using her vagina to milk his penis to ejaculation. Reaching around, she slapped his butt a few times, "C'mon, baby, come to me, come to me, come to me, come to me, aaaah!" Her head fell to the bed and her hips pushed back tight against him as her orgasm hit her. Her nipples dripped a couple of milk drops on the bed, and her big belly flicked as the fetus stirred within her. She held the position until she returned to her senses before raising up and turning to look at his rock hard dick. "You didn't cum, did you?" she moaned.

"Sorry, baby. Couldn't quite git-r-done."

A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. "All right, we'll have to finish the job. You wanna come on my tits?"

"Anything's fine, sugar. Yes, I want to come on your milky tits. Beat me off."

"Okay." Her soft hand came up and grasped the turgid tool in front of her. Licking her lips, she smiled and said in her sexiest voice. "We want Daddy to cum. We want Daddy to cum all over our milky tits. Mommy's titties want Daddy's cum." A serious look came across her face, as she methodically worked his cock. Lifting it up, she reached forward to lick his balls, making the silken skin wet and making his quiver as she stroked his cock beside her face. "Mommy's titties want Daddy's cum. Mommy's titties want Daddy's cum," she murmured before licking his balls again.

Tom thought his knees were going to give out on him as the familiar electricity built in his groin. "C'mon honey, cum on my tits," she said, giving his corona a quick lick. "You know you want to." 

"Jerk me faster, harder." She accelerated her pace, and took him in her wet mouth to increase the wetness. "Faster, faster." Faster and faster her hand went, until it was almost a blur, before pre-cum started to flick out on her chest.

"Cum on me, Daddy, cum on Mommy's titties," she ordered, as the creamy ropes began to jet out, drenching her chest and running down on her milk laden breasts. Pointing him down, she covered her tits in the sticky liquid, moving him around to maximize the coverage.

The last drops were coaxed out and she lay back on the bed. "Rub it in honey. Rub your cum on my breasts. Gently, gently." He laid down beside her and started moving in large circles, rubbing the sticky liquid into her skin. A few more drops of milk escaped her nipples: "Squeeze it out, honey. They feel so tight." 

She moaned as he milked her, shifting her legs back and forth. He'd tried the milk before and found it bitter, so he remembered his childhood visit to his uncle's farm. It didn't take long, and she rewarded him by taking his cock and licking every remaining bit of love liquid from his shaft and balls.

He lay down beside her, and they stayed there side by side. "Did you work on your painting today, honey?" he asked.

"No," she snapped, "I don't like painting. My fingers cramp up. The paint doesn't go where I want it to."

"You're holding the brush too tightly."

She looked absently at the corner of the ceiling. "Maybe. I don't like painting."

"You draw so nicely. You have talent."

"Thanks, honey," she said giving him a peck on the cheek. "But I think just I want to work on having the baby right now."

"All right." Another long silence was punctuated by distant rumbling that echoed ominously across the Lake of the Ozarks. "How do you like the new painting?"

"It's all right. Am I really that fat?"

A hand rested on her distended belly. She was growing at a normal rate, without a lot of extra body fat. "You've been taking care of yourself, sugar. You'll bounce back quickly."

"You didn't answer my question."

The hand began stroking the belly. She calmed a little. "You're not that fat. Only as much as a seven month pregnant woman is supposed to be." He kissed her belly and massaged it with his soft, downy beard. "You're the sexiest woman I've ever known."

She tousled his hair. "Eat me, honey. Eat me."

He looked at her, disbelieving. "Okay." His head moved downward, trailing his facial hair all over her belly and down her crotch to between her thighs. Back and forth his head stroked her thighs, his beard tickling her dampening slit. 

"I never knew this could be so good," she murmured. "Eat me, honey. Get your tongue to work. Mmm, Mommy likes Daddy's tongue on her clit."

Sticking his tongue out, he began to lick her crevasse while his hands caressed the baby. Swirling around and around, he relentlessly teased and pleased her bud until she shot sticky clear liquid all over his face, falling asleep in the afterglow with a peaceful expression.

********

"Penny for your thoughts, Tom," Hoot Pidgeon asked.

"Oh, sorry. My mind was drifting." Tom answered.

"You look like you were miles away."

"Years away, Hoot, years away."

Hoot nodded his head gravely. "Some things never fade completely."

Tom shook his head and looked strangely at the older man. "What do you think I was remembering?"

"Seen it so often. Lost love leaves an indelible mark."

"Oh. Seems funny , really."

"You don't say?"

"Well, I wasn't with her that long, only about a year. There were so many others over the years, a couple I almost married, and yet. . ."

"Yet it was here you loved her, in this place, under these trees."

"Yes."

"And you have Amanda to remember her by."

Tom shook his head. "Amanda's not much like her mother. Only in appearance."

"But Renee gave you Amanda before she left. You'll always have Amanda, so in a way, you'll always have Renee."

"I see. But. . ."

Hoot touched his shoulder. "You're interested in somebody else. Had to happen sooner or later. Don't worry. Falling for someone else isn't a betrayal of past love, or your child's mother. Let it happen, Tom."

"Easy for you to say, Hoot," Tom replied.

To be continued...



Carefree Cove Ch. 04



The sun set and it was closing time at the Seville Hills, MO pool. The announcement was made, and the swimmers began to file back into the swim house. The girls went as fast as their dared, the asscheeks switching for the boys' benefit, their admirers silent and motionless in admiration. They went into the bath house: the teenage boys went back to their cars and roared off into the distance.

The old men got up from their domino game, joints popping. "Well, same time next week?" Petey Harms asked. He was an wrinkled, toothless old man in a John Deere cap, t-shirt and overalls.

The Reverend Hoot Pidgeon, elder statesman of the group, nodded his head. "Sure. We should bring some beer next week. That OK with you, Tom?"

"Yeah," Thomas Albright said. He was a young man for that group, slightly pudgy at fifty one, dressed in a polo shirt and jeans. "Amanda's spending some time with Gracie; they're going to Branson." His four year old daughter Amanda had paired up with his new neighbor Michelle Hawkins, a 40 year old Venus who caught Tom's jealous eye.

The old men returned to their cars and left. Tom waited for his daughter outside the gate, nodding at the girls as they walked by with damp hair and covered from the waist down with beach towels.

Amanda and Michelle came out together, the little girl's hair combed and the woman's wrap around doing nothing to conceal her erect nipples.

"Hey, Daddy, Shelley says she's not doing anything tonight. Why don't you take her somewhere after you drop me off at Grammie's house?'

A look of panic crossed Tom's face. Sheepishly, he turned to his neighbor: "I'm sorry, Ms. Hawkins. My daughter is very. . .aggressive with adults, probably comes from being an only child. I apologize if she's offended you."

Michelle hit him with a broad bright smile: "No need to apologize, Mr. Albright. Your little girl is very charming. We had such a nice lunch together last week, and I'd love to meet you for a drink after you drop her off."

He thought for a moment and looked at his daughter. She gave him an implacable look that brooked no objection. "All right, Ms. Hawkins, would you meet me for a drink at the Q and A in a half hour?"

"I'd be delighted, Mr. Albright, but only if you'll call me Shelley, or at least Michelle."

"Thank you, Michelle. And you may call me Tom."

Amanda beamed. "Let's go, Daddy."

The trip to Gracie's trailer went smoothly, and she was glad to see them. Grace Carter was a relatively short woman, five foot one, with a weathered face and wore an amorphous dress that hid her awkward figure at age 65; she wore thick glasses, and a band in her grey hair. Entering her small trailer, Tom noticed that it was clean and neat; she was living up to her commitment to stay sober for Amanda's sake. On the mantelpiece of the inside wall rested a triangular box with a folded American flag beneath a large portrait of her son Marcus in Marine uniform; pictures of her grandchildren rested on the coffee table, including her granddaughter Renee's Senior picture. 

Amanda settled in happily, and started telling her great-grandmother about her new friend Shelley. Tom managed to pause her: "Gracie, I"ll be back this time tomorrow evening. You girls have fun."

"Oh yes, Tom, thank you. We have so much planning to do for our trip to Branson," she replied. "You rest well tonight."

"Have a good time with Shelley," Amanda added excitedly.

"What have I told you about telling everything to everyone?"

"What happens at our house, stays at our house." She shrugged her shoulders. "But Daddy, we're not home."

"You're at your Grammie's house. Close enough." He turned to leave and she ran into his arms for a farewell hug and kiss.

"Bye, Daddy."

"Bye, cupcake."

"Good night, Tom." 

As she saw him back out the door, Tom leaned to whisper in her ear: "Are you all right for this week?"

"Yes, thank you, Tom," she whispered back. "A friend of mine in AA got me some temp work at the Park. I'm even on the rent, and I've got food in the pantry."

"Good. Everything in shape for your trip?"

"Yes, fine, Tom. It's all arranged, hell's bells, you arranged it. We're fine. Relax, enjoy yourself."

Tom smiled. "Thanks. Good night."

"Good night, Tom."

Tom's hands were shaking on the steering wheel as he drove to the bar. There were few patrons sitting around, and Michelle waved to him from a booth across the way. Mutt Hayes was at the end of the bar next to the door, and caught his attention.

"Hey, Tom, sorry about the hubbub at the park tonight. I didn't want to bring anything up, but Hoot provoked me."

"I'm nobody's judge, Hoot. We both know who you are, and I'm not the Ten O'Clock News."

"Thanks, Tom. Say, do you have any more paintings for sale?"

"We'll see. Work's heavy right now."

"Princess spending the night with her Grammie?"

"Yes. I've got a lot of work tomorrow."

"Okay. See ya."

"See ya." Tom made his way across the bar to sit with Michelle. She was sipping a glass of Amaretto as she waited, along with a cup of coffee. Marge Robinson the waitress came over and asked for his order; he ordered Tanqueray and Tonic. 

"Well, did you get Mandy to her slumber party tonight?" Michelle asked casually.

"Yeah. She loves Gracie and I think she does the old woman a lot of good. I think Amanda is the only relative she's in touch with, and it helps her stay sober."

"How long as Grace had a drinking problem?"

"Most of her life. It got especially bad after her son was killed in Kabul. She shouted at Renee when she wasn't passed out: Renee's High School years were hell because of her. It was her third DUI arrest that made Renee run away."

"Yes, you must tell me about Renee." Tom looked down painfully, and took a deep breath, His drink arrived and he took a long pull from it. "I know it will hurt, but you need to tell me about it since we're along."

"All right, I can do it, but it's not a happy story; it's not even much of a tragedy." 

******

Four years earlier. . . A July early evening, and Tom was working at his easel. Renee sat nude on a rocking chair, her baby in her arms with its head at her breast. She winced and furrowed her brow as the infant worked her nipple, uncomfortable and restless. Tom was serene and peaceful as he made his portrait of mother and child. 

"How soon, honey?" she asked petulantly.

"Almost there."

"Amanda's hurting me."

"Switch tits then."

"Won't that spoil your picture?"

"I'm not working on that part."

Uneasily, she turned the baby around to nurse at her right breast. "I don't like nursing," she said flatly. "It ties me down, and it hurts. I wish we could use formula."

"We will, honey, we will, we should probably wait a few weeks before we move her to formula. Mother's milk is the best thing for her right now."

A frown burrowed into her forehead. "Why not use the pump? I've already got a few bottles ready for her."

"All right, I give you permission not to nurse her directly from now on. You can use the pump and feed her from the bottle." He said calmly from his position by the easel.

The sun had just set behind the hills and the stars were coming out. Crickets began their song and lightning bugs were hovering nearby. The humid day was beginning to cool off as a lake breeze started to waft across the deck.

"Done," Tom said, putting down his brush. Renee came around to see, carrying Amanda who had just stopped sucking.

"That's wonderful," she said. It was a tender study of a nude woman sitting in an antique rocking chair, a peaceful baby at the breast. "I think it's the best of the series."

They walked up the stairs and turned to enter the recently created nursery. It was a colorful room, full of animal pictures and a mobile hanging over the crib, with a changing table fully equipped in easy reach. Amanda Joy Albright was a small baby, starting to look like her mother a little, with a head full of baby fuzz. Another fragile miracle, she had long fingers and legs. When they were open, her eyes were bright blue, and her father couldn't stop looking in them.

Putting her down, Tom and Renee locked hands and walked down the hallway together. It was still early, but they were both tired from new parents' sleep loss syndrome.

Laying down on the bed, he looked deeply in her eyes. There was coldness, which he attributed to sleep. Lines of exhaustion, flecks of mascara and eyeliner that she always wore, whether she went out or not, creased her face.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world," he murmured. "Wish we could have sex."

"I'm still sore," she answered. "It's going to be a while longer."

"I know. I still love you."

"Thanks. Let me show you my appreciation." Her hand snaked down to touch his limp equipment, lightly teasing and taunting his testicles until his phallus began to respond. She laid her head on his chest, looking over his tummy at his rising passion, murmuring in appreciation as he responded to her encouragement. Turning her head, she gave him a long, odd look, taking in every feature of his face. Returning, she increased her tempo, drawing the dewy precursor of love. She took a deep breath, and moved down to take his cock in her mouth, running her soft tongue up and down his shaft before sucking gently. 

Her hand tickled his balls, and he enjoyed the long, slow blow as long as she was willing to give it. A month before Amanda's birth, Renee's libido switched off like a light and hadn't resurfaced until now. Tom didn't know what it meant, but was willing to be patient with her. He had no experience living with pregnant women before. His ardor was fueled by the thought her libido was returning, and looking forward to the active sex life they shared before.

A breeze rustled the growing darkness outside, and she sensed he was approaching his climax. Pulling off, she stroked him quickly and whispered: "I want your cum, baby. Cum in my mouth. I want to swallow your sperm. Give me your cum. Cum down my throat." Her tongue became a tornado as she took him back in her mouth and she sucked him relentlessly until he gave her the flood of sperm she wanted. Lingering, she licked him clean and sucked him dry, only letting him go after he went limp and dry.

His eyes closed and he fell into a slumber. His consciousness drifted with one ear on the baby monitor. He didn't know how long he was snoozing when a scream tore through the cove.

Jolting to attention, he ran out the door and down the stairs to the deck. Renee was standing in the night, naked, soaking wet, holding her shoulder which leaked a little blood. "I got bit," she whimpered sheepishly.

"What?"

"I got bit. I went to swim in the cove and I got bit."

Running across the room, he pulled back the protective hand to see two small puncture marks. Grabbing a bowl from the kitchen drainer, he sucked blood and spat for several minutes. "What were you thinking?" he growled. "Didn't I tell you there were copperheads after dark?"

"Yes," she said in a small, childlike voice. "You did. I didn't believe you. I wanted to go swimming so badly."

She started to walk across the room, and he stopped her. "You shouldn't move any more than you have to. Let me get my pants on and get the baby. You cold?" She nodded her head. He grabbed an heirloom quilt from the living sofa and wrapped it around her. "You stay right here until I get you."

Running, he mounted the stairs two at a time, dashed back to his bedroom to grab his pants, his wallet and her purse. He fell hard putting on his pants, bruising himself, but got up and ran to the baby's room. It was a difficult job to move her quickly but gently; he, moved awkwardly with the inexperience of a new parent, but he quickly had her and her bag in the car. Coming back in, he lifted Renee up in his arms, and carried her to their SUV. "Don't worry, baby. You're going to be all right. I won't let you down."

Her eyes seemed to drift as he put her in the passenger seat, started the car, and called the clinic as he roared down the lake road as fast as he dared. The front door of the clinic was open and a wheel chair waiting for them as they pulled up ten minutes later. 

Opening the passenger door, he put her in the wheelchair, and opened the back to get the baby. In his haste, he bumped the carrier as he took it out and Amanda began crying. It was a tough choice to attend the crying baby or walk in with the wheelchair and a screaming infant "I'll be right there," he yelled over his shoulder as Renee was taken in.

Amanda was crying hard, her little voice relentless even though it lacked in volume. Tom was still figuring out what to do with a one month old baby, so he put the carrier on the pavement by the car, and held her over her shoulder. A finger in her leg opening told him her diaper was dry, and she didn't seem hungry. The panic of her father was what irritated her, and he spent several agonizing moments calming the baby, figuring that her mother was getting the attention she needed inside.

Tom got the baby calmed and asleep again, and he put her bag in the carrier as he went inside. Going up to the desk, he went up to Selma Pruett, the night nurse.

"Where's Renee?"

"Who?"

"Renee, Renee Carter."

"I don't know, Tom."

"I just brought her in with a snakebite. She was bitten by a copperhead, she needs anti-venin right away."

"Oh?"

"Come off it, Selma, I called you on the way in, we talked not ten minutes ago. Where the hell is she?"

"I'll call back and find out," she picked up the phone and dialed a number. In a moment, she asked for Renee Carter. "In the meantime Tom," she said, pushing a clipboard with her other hand, "fill this out."

It was a three page admission application. "I don't have a pen," he wailed. Selma gave him one.

Holding the baby over his shoulder, he began filling out the form, leaving information he didn't know blank. Amanda slept quietly on his shoulder, and he was careful not to jostle her again. Looking up, he saw Selma with the phone by her ear. 

At last, he completed the form, leaving the signature on the bottom for Renee. The floor was cold under his bare feet, and the air conditioning made his damp t-shirt clammy. Shivering, he put the clipboard on the counter and said: "All right, where is she?"

Selma looked at him blankly for a moment, and put the phone down slowly. "She's not here, Tom"

"What? What?" Tom jumped around in a couple of frantic circles before he stopped, worried that he'd jiggled the baby. "What the fuck do you mean, she's not here?"

**********

Four years later. . .

Tom told Michelle the whole story of his life with Renee, glossing over the sexual encounters: about his efforts to broaden her horizons, his encouragement of her artistic talent, her slow rebellion as Amanda's birth neared, the episode the night she left.

"Well, I can see what was wrong: you were trying to be everything to her," Michelle said. "Sure, you wanted to help her, improve her life, but it's tough to be a teacher and a lover at the same time, almost impossible."

"After she left, I got her last phone bill. Right after Amanda's birth, she was texting her friend Ashley Harms several times a day. Ashley was working as an orderly at the Clinic, and arranged Renee's disappearance. Renee wasn't bit by a snake: she took a bucket down and poured water over her head. She improvised puncture wounds that would pass in the dim light. My fumbling with the baby when we got to the clinic only played into their hand. Renee went in the front door, right through the corridor, and out the back door where her supposed nemesis Sharibeth Idelson was waiting with a car. Maria Garcia slipped into my drive just after we left and got Renee's junker; it was gone when I got back."

"Wow, how do you know all this?"

"Ashley loves to talk. She told me one night at the pool, after her friends went home. Snotty little bitch."

"I can't imagine a new mother not in love with her baby."

"Me neither, but along with her other issues, Renee had no maternal genes and was much more self-centered than I imagined. She hated being pregnant even though she loved the overactive libido."

"Oh, I see. You must have gotten plenty of action." 

He gave a quick, short nod. "I should have seen it coming: Renee lead me on so well. I thought she had a chance for a good life and I could give it to her. Professional opportunities, a nice home, children, a comfortable income. I wanted to give it all to her. She wasn't ready, she wasn't interested." He took another long pull from his drink.

Michelle was completely involved with Tom's story, and her silence invited him to continue. "She got far away from here. First, she went to Colorado. Hooked up with some guys who were making porn videos for the Internet. I could give you dozens of sites where her clips are still up. Did a lot of partying, got into a lot of drugs. Found a boyfriend who rode his bike like an idiot. They were tearing through the mountains of Western Montana just after dusk when they ran into a moose at 80 MPH."

"So that means. . ."

"Amanda will never meet her mother. All she knows is her mother died not long after she was born, and it would be pedantic right now to tell her the death really happened ten months later. Gracie is determined not to say anything negative about Renee, and Amanda doesn't need to know right now that her mother willingly abandoned her. Yet."

"Has she seen her mother's picture?"

"Yes. I have the whole pregnancy series along the upstairs hallway; Amanda's tickled her story got captured that early. When she shows them to you, she'll point to the baby bump and say: 'That's me' with pride. The picture that won the New York contest is hanging in her room."

Michelle looked startled. "I'm surprised."

"I am, too."

"That you let her see her mother naked like that."

"At this age, it won't bother her. She sees other pictures of her mother at Gracie's house, when Renee was a little girl and growing up. I'm surprised you think it's not right."

"Really?'

"Really, really. Remember, when we first met, you were naked."

Michelle laughed and sipped her coffee. "Well, when Amanda shrieked and I realized I wasn't alone, I was scared, but when I saw you with her, I figured you weren't going to rape me in front a child if you had any kind of decency as a parent. So I was able to relax and the rest went naturally."

"Oh." Tom took another long belt of his drink. 

They sipped their drinks and listened to the music. Mutt had been chatting up Marge the waitress, the entire time Tom and Michelle talked, so he hadn't overheard anything. Marge gave him a guffaw and lightly pushed him away; he downed his drink and headed uneasily out the door. There was one other patron who seemed frozen under the other bar monitor caught in a SportsCenter loop. Tom bought them another round and they chatted about local events. She stayed away from any mention of home or family.

After the finished their second drink, she said: "Tell me, do you have need of an artist's model soon?"

Tom looked up in interest: "Sure, a good model can always give me ideas."

"I need a little more income than the day care place is giving me."

"I'm sure we can work something out. How about a classic: you posing by a waterfall with flowers in your hair, Mother Nature in all her glory."

"Will I have to be naked?"

"Probably."

She smiled. "Good."

They looked deep into each other's eyes as they finished their second drinks and left before Last Call. Getting into separate cars was awkward, but they couldn't leave one there; people would talk. He fought with himself as he followed her home: should he go home or come to her house? They were out of cell phone range, so a question wasn't possible. 

They came to the fork in the road and he slowed to make his turn. Her car slowed as well, pausing as he crawled up the hill, then sped off. Stopping, he took several deep breaths, his heart racing, as he worked out what to do. Finally, he put his car in reverse, backed down the hill, and went up her driveway.




Carefree Cove Ch. 04



Like a teenager on a first date he stood at her door, the porch light still on, the living room light keeping vigil. He hesitated, started to knock, and pulled back. Some crickets began to sing, and at last he rapped gently on the door.

It flung open and she leapt into his arms, kissing him hard and bear hugging him. There were no words, only passionate embrace that lasted ten full minutes before she let him enter the house.

Pulling him after her, she led him through the hallway, kitchen, dining room until she came to a ground floor bedroom where cinnamon scented candles already burned. They fell on the bed entwined, their hands moving up and down their bodies nervously, unbuttoning and unzipping until everything was pushed chaotically over the side onto the floor. 

At last, he worshiped her perfect breasts, caressing them and licking them frantically while her soft hand circled his shaft and pumped him. His mouth traveled down her curves, teasing her navel, until it reached the valley below, where it sought the ripe berry of delight. She pulled his lower half around and reciprocated his wet passion with her own, encasing his staff with her hungry maw and playing her soft tongue quickly all over it. It was a moment Tom hoped would never end.

As he approached culmination, he pulled out of her mouth and pelvis, moving her on her back and swinging around to penetrate her vagina. She was confused at first, but when she realized his purpose, she guided him and gladly accepted his modest member to the hilt. They stayed fully impaled, kissing vigorously for several moments before he started moving his pelvis, moving slowly at first, but speeding up slowly. Following his pace, she bucked back against him, mauling his chest, until they reached the moment of clouds and rain, bonded in ecstacy.

He woke at dawn, holding her in his arms. Gently as he could, he tried to disengage, but she woke up in spite of his care. "Going somewhere, big boy?" she asked.

"Gotta go home," he murmured.

"What about breakfast?" She moved down and licked the head of his penis, fondling his balls.

"Amanda's coming back from her sleepover around breakfast time, and she needs to find me at home."

Her response was to take his entire length into her mouth. After several strokes she pulled off, stroking his dick with her hand, "You sure you need to go right away?"

He sighed. "I wish I didn't, my God I wish I didn't, but I have to." Grinning, he said, "Maybe you'll give me a rain check?"

She let him go and rolled back. "I don't know if it's a good idea. It may not rain here for a while."

'You're bad."

A smile. "I know. Go ahead, I know you've got to go. We'll have time when she's on her vacation with Grammie."

"That's the spirit."

They took a hot shower together, and he was back home by 5:00AM. He tried to take a nap, but he was too wound up. So dawn found him sitting in his favorite terry cloth bathrobe on the deck of his house overlooking the Lake of the Ozarks. It was a cool Friday morning in Carefree Cove before the fire of August midday would propel the heat and humidity in spirited competition. The sun rose red, boiling away the haze in the East and the mist off the Lake. He looked down at his cove through a canopy of green. The grass of his yard was an unbearable height; he would have to mow today or tomorrow. But not now, not at this time of peace. He sipped a glass of iced tea, and savored the sounds of nature.

His ear was cocked at the door: Amanda would be getting home sometime soon. She would sleep for a while yet, and some days she'd play quietly in her room before bounding down the stairs in search of him. He figured it would be 8:30 to 9:00 before she would get home and need breakfast, and there would be no need for ambiguity when his fatherly duty began that day.

A figure walked down the path to the cove from the only other house. Michelle frequently went for an early morning swim. By the time she got to the waterside, his binoculars were in hand to see her shed her white robe and dive naked into the blue waters. His cock remembered the night before fondly.

The mermaid glided through the cool waters of the cove. Her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders; she didn't put her head under so only the ends got damp. Floating on her back after several strong strokes, her tear drop breasts were pert islands in the cove. He stood transfixed, watching her, until an inspiration took him. Darting inside, he brought out his digital camera with the best zoom available and snapped several images of the goddess. He followed her out of the water to the lounger on her dock, where she reclined face up and let the morning air dry her lustrous body. Her eyes were fixed up toward his deck: it seemed she knew he was watching her, and she welcomed his adoring gaze from a distance. 

The door opened and closed, and little footsteps scurried across the great room and ran to the deck, the little girl jumping into her father's arms for a good morning hug and kiss. He smiled at his child and asked: "What do you want for breakfast, baby?"

A moment's serious pondering. "I'd like a cinnamon waffle, Daddy. With strawberries."

"Coming up."

"What were you looking at?" She asked, peering over his shoulder toward the Lake.

"The cove."

"Oh, Shelley's out there this morning. Can I go down and say hello to her?"

"No, baby. You know the rules." A pout formed quickly on the small face; a few moments later it worked its magic. "All right, I'll let you go say hello by yourself, but don't run down the steps, and you know the rule about the water."

"Yes, Daddy." She peeled off her shirt, shorts and sneakers in an instant, and made her way with all deliberate speed down the steps, her little bare form dark brown from the Sun's embrace. He watched her all the way down, and she dive off his pier, knifing her way through the water like a goldfish across the cove. 

Michelle saw her as she dived in, and smiled as her little friend swam across to her. Getting up, the older woman helped the girl out of the water and sat her down on the lounger with her. She laid back as Amanda sat facing her at waist level, chatting merrily. 

For a moment, Tom thought of taking a picture of the scene, but taking picture of his daughter naked at this age was a higher risk than he wanted to take. The tiny chance the wrong person could see it and accuse him of abuse would wreck his life: he existed for her, first of all. He contented himself with burning the charming image into his memory before he went to prepare her breakfast.

The girls ended their colloquium, and Tom rushed to get the batter on the griddle so the food would be ready when Amanda arrived. To his surprise, Michelle walked up the path with her, holding her hand, carrying her white robe in her hand. "Good morning, Tom," she began, an evil glint in her eye. "Mandy invited me to breakfast; I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all. We were having waffles."

"Sounds yummy."

"Daddy's waffles are the best," Amanda boasted.

In ten minutes they were dressed and eating. Tom found some fresh cream, which he whipped to put on the strawberries. Amanda ate half her portion, and Michelle finished hers and Amanda's. Tom had a plain waffle with a little syrup.

"Daddy, you look tired this morning," Amanda said as she pushed her plate away. Michelle choked on her food. "Are you feeling well?"

"I'm okay, sugar," he responded smoothly. "Didn't get back until late last night."

"Did you get back late last night, too, Shelley?" 

"Yes, Mandy, I got back late, too. Your Father and I had a good time talking last night."

"That's good. I approve. Shelley looks tired, too. Did you kiss goodnight?"

"Amanda Joy Albright, that's none of your business."

"Okay, Daddy. Don't get your nose out of joint. May I be excused to go play?"

"Yes, Amanda."

Amanda ran upstairs to her room and Tom offered Michelle a cup of fresh coffee. She gave him a cheeky smile in response. The steaming mug held a hint of vanilla, and Tom poured himself another glass of iced tea.

Michelle looked warmly in Tom's eyes. "That was an excellent breakfast. Your daughter's right about the waffles."

"Thank you. I want to do my best for her."

"Of course."

"Now that it's light, I was wondering. . ."

"Yes?"

"About you. You haven't said much about yourself yet, other than you're from Maryland."

Her smile evaporated. She buried herself in the mug for a few moments. "It's painful."

"So's the story I told you the other night, it's still a cheese grater on my soul. The only thing good that came out of that relationship is a few paintings and the angel that just went upstairs."

A long questioning look was the response he got, until something in her face relaxed. "All right, Tom. Since you shared your scarred heart with me." Another sip of coffee. "I got married right after college to a person I thought was a wonderful man. We loved each other, shared our hopes and joys until we started having babies. His career blossomed and I was a stay at home mom. Three boys and a girl later, stair steps in as many years, and he cuts me off from my favorite activity."

"And that was?"

"Sex."

He smirked and reached over to kiss her hand. "Imagine that."

She smiled and continued. "He was no longer interested in making love to me. Gradually found me repulsive, and started belittling me to the kids. I was trapped, didn't know what to do. Wanted to run away so bad; didn't have the courage. Then, a little thing broke the camel's back. Had to get away, anywhere. Just started driving west, with a map, until I was tired of driving. Spent a couple of days at a St. Louis hotel, and looked at a map for a beautiful place to live.

"I stayed in St. Louise for several months, doing temp work while the divorce went though. Lived in a studio. When I got my settlement, I let him have the kids and the house for a lump sum of cash. Invested as much as I dared and went house hunting in this area. A couple of weeks ago, I closed on the Smithton place in this piece of heaven and here I am."

"Do you miss anyone back east?"

Tears started to flow. "My daughter. She's at that impossible age, seventeen and bitchy. We were only two women in a houseful of men. When she was little, we were best friends, but when she got older, rebellion set in. We enjoyed shopping together, but she fought me over curfew and her father sided with her. That's what tore it; I couldn't stand her anymore and she was the only reason I was staying."

A martin flew by, and another, chasing insects. Michelle fought to stop her tears, rubbing her face with her hands. "You must think me a big baby, or irresponsible."

"I'm nobody's judge," Tom said, shaking his head. "We do what we think best, even when our head's up our asses."

She laughed. "That's such a dumb thing to say." But her tears stopped. "I want to talk to you about the modeling job."

Tom sat up with surprise. "Oh, yes."

"You were saying your telecommute isn't going to keep you busy for a couple of months?"

"Yes."

"Well, I need a little more cash, not much, but I'm not willing to take another job away from here. I saw you on your deck this morning with your camera. Wouldn't you love to paint me? You said so last night."

Tom smiled broadly. "Absolutely. Amanda's going to be playing all morning; I just heard her turn her computer on. Let's go back to the cove. I'll bring my pad, and do some preliminary sketches."

"Okay."

To be continued... 



Carefree Cove Ch. 05



Tom Albright drawing in the summer Missouri morning. He wore his swimsuit and surfing shoes beneath his white T-shirt as he stood on the dock of his neighbor, Michelle Hawkins. She was a voluptuous woman of forty whom he just started a physical relationship the night before. She posed on her lounger for forty five minutes in her white robe in different positions before removing it so he could draw her naked. Her face was a little tired from lack of sleep, but aglow with the aftermath of great loving. The breeze was fresh enough to make the air perfect for outside nudity, and Tom's pencil flew over the paper.

Then, they moved over to a small waterfall Tom created at the brook that entered the Lake. There were a few wildflowers blossoming nearby, and Michelle put one in her hair before posing in front of the flowing water. He took some shots with his digital camera of her standing waist deep in the water with the waterfall behind her and the flower in her hair.

"This would be the perfect picture if we lived in the Sixties," she said. He nodded, and took some more shots. 

Around 11:00, Tom called a halt. "I'm getting hot, and I'm going to jump in the cove right now."

"Sounds good," Michelle said. "You thirsty?"

"Yeah, some water would be nice."

"I'll get some." They walked hand in hand back to her dock; she left the flower in her hair. Putting her robe back on, she scampered lightly up the path to her own house. After she returned, he took a frosty bottle and got into an old inner tube to float across to his own dock.

"Where are you going?" she asked quizzically.

"Need to check on the kid." Tom's four year old daughter Amanda was playing at his Carefree Cove house on her computer as the adults worked on the dock.

"Why are you doing it that way? Floating over on an inner tube is slow."

"Can't swim."

"What?"

"Yes, I never learned how to swim. When I was a kid, every time I tried, I got a bad cold before I got the basics down. Later on I realized I was allergic to chlorine."

"Well, you should be able to do it in the Lake. How long have you lived here?"

"Ten years."

"And you never learned how to swim in your own cove?"

"Nope. Never had the urge."

"How did Amanda learn?" Amanda was Tom's four year old daughter, a blond angel whose horns balanced well on her halo. She was skinny, tanned all over and blonde, a bundle of energy.

"Gracie took her to water babies class." Gracie was Amanda's great-grandmother, and designated female presence in her life after the death of her mother. "My daughter is a natural; I'm never worried about her. I've got the life preserver stuff, but she'll most likely have to save me someday."

"Do you get into the water?"

"Oh, yes, I'm all right wading up to my chest. I can go a long way from my dock, but there's a dropoff between your dock and mine, so I can't wade over."

"I see. After you look in on Mandy, come back."

"Absolutely." On reaching his side, he got out of the tube awkwardly and walked up to the house and back. "She's fine, engrossed in a learning game," he said after returning. "I think she'll look for me when she wants lunch."

"Fine. Get in the water."

"What?"

"Get in the water. I want to try something."

Tom sat down on the dock and eased himself into the water. It came up to his thighs, but as he waded out it came up past his waist to mid-chest level. "This is as far as I'm comfortable going. The dropoff is right in front of me."

"All right." With a graceful dive, she entered the water and swam over in front of him, treading water. "You were right, there is a dropoff here."

"Yes. What do you have in mind?'

"I'm going to help you."

"Help me learn to swim?"

"You'll see." She took a huge breath and ducked under the water. It was murky, so he could only see the top of her head in front of him; she must be standing on the bottom. He looked up at the branches and cast a glance back toward the house.

Suddenly, he felt a tugging at his waistband: she was pulling off his suit underwater. At first, he tried to fight it, but relented as his cock sprang into open water. She surfaced with a big smile on her face. "What was that all about?" he asked with a puzzled look on his face.

"Well, I don't think it's been fair for me to be naked all morning and you still dressed. Doesn't your daughter ever see you naked?"

"Not for a year now. We swam and bathed naked when she was little, but she's growing up too fast, and I need to keep some decorum around her. In a year or so, I hope to get her in a swimsuit to go swimming here rather than stripping down. She needs to learn some modesty."

"Fair enough." She ducked underwater again, he looked around for his neighbor. A hand grasped his dick underwater, stroking and pulling at it. Tom had been fighting erections all morning, and the unexpected attack took him by surprise. A minute and or so later she surfaced, but kept her hand on him. "I noticed a lot of growing and shrinking this morning, and I want to ease the pressure. Not to mention finished something I began earlier this morning."

Tom blushed handsomely. "Well, blue balls aren't a lot of fun."

She went under once again to lick and nibble at his testicles. He couldn't believe the magic happening beneath the surface. She licked and sucked him in a way he thought impossible, and after a minute and a half of bliss, she disconnected and surged up for a deep breath.

"Wow," was the only thing he could say.

"Just wow?" Michelle asked, her hair hanging in ropes and water glistening off her cheeks. 

"It's been too long, I just don't have words," he said awkwardly.

"Well, perhaps the next time shouldn't be as long," she leered and taking a deep breath, ducked under the water's surface again. Her mouth found his stiff cock almost immediately and started working its magic again. A bird swooped by, and his eyes followed it across the panoply of green to the blue sky and the distance. A breeze rustled the leaves. His balls started to churn as the energy built, and any moment he though he could reach his happy ending.

A splash and paddling broke his revery, and short circuited him. Amanda reached his left shoulder quickly, leaning on him for support, and asked: "What'cha doin', Daddy?"

"J-j-just daydreaming, punkin. It's nice to be in the water on such a hot day." Michelle continued her underwater work, and now Tom had to conceal his above water responses as best he could. Amanda looked around, watching another bird as it soared by. Michelle disenganged and broke the water's surface, sputtering.

"What'cha doin', Shelley?" Amanda asked innocently as their eyes met.

The older woman smiled. "Trying to see how long I can hold my breath," she lied spectacularly.

"I can hold my breath a long time. Wanna have a contest?"

"Sure, let give me a moment." Michelle breathed heavily for a few moments, a shit-eating grin on her face. 

"You're wicked," Tom mouthed.

"Ready, Mandy?" Michelle said.

"Ready"

"Hold onto my arm when you duck your head under," Tom interjected paternally.

"Ready, three, two one, go!" Amanda screamed. Both females took a huge breath and ducked under.

Amanda was facing the same direction as Michelle, looking over Tom's back toward the shore and the path to her house. She held her eyes shut underwater anyway. Realizing this, Michelle returned to sucking Tom's cock underwater, as he painfully stifled any vocalization, looking around frantically.

After a minute, a little blond head broke the water and took a deep breath. "How long was that, Daddy?"

"Two minutes, baby," he stammered. Then his balls erupted, he gave a short whoop and the aquatic cocksucker swallowed every drop greedily. He almost passed out and gasped out loud, so intense were the sensations.

"What happened, Daddy? Are you all right? Did something happen down there?"

"A big fish goosed me," he lied, "he really surprised me. Like the other day when one goosed you, and we met Michelle. Don't worry, I think he turned around and went back out to the lake."

"Oh, I don't like it when the fishes goose me, either. It's pretty scary. I hope he's gone." She looked at the sky for a minute and said: "I think Shelley won."

Michelle shot back to the surface and took a deep breath. "I win," she said with a broad smile on her face.

"I guess you did," Tom said. There was a brief silence between them that puzzled the little girl, but her attention span lead her elsewhere quickly.

"Daddy, I'm going to swim over to the island and play."

"All right, baby."

The little brown nymph swam out toward the lake to a small island Tom cleaned the brush off and installed a swing set. She got out of the water and began swinging, naked and carefree, facing the lake, singing an original song at the top of her lungs.

Tom looked at Michelle and got a lowered eyebrow in reply. "Mandy told me she's going on vacation with her Grammie next week."

He shrugged his shoulders: "Mandy talks way too much." After taking a look at the island, he took a deep breath and ducked under the water for a moment to pull up his trunks. On surfacing, he saw she was still nearby. Reaching out carefully, he touched the top of her hip. "By the way, thank you is not enough."

She smiled, her eyes bright. "You're welcome, and you're absolutely right. Can I bring you a salad Monday night?"

He looked at his daughter, swinging and singing in the late morning sun. "Okay." 

********

Sunday morning found Tom and Amanda in the Quail Run United Methodist Church. It was the closest house of prayer to Tom's place, a good distance from Carefree Cove, and shepherded by Tom's old friend, Wilbur "Hoot" Pidgeon. Amanda was dressed in her favorite formalwear: a yellow and blue dress with black shoes; Tom was casual in a polo shirt and jeans. Hoot was getting worked up as he rarely did in this week's sermon:

"My friends, there are many that say the big problem with America right now is sex. Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex. Our own former Senator and Attorney General John Ashcroft went as far as cover a statue in the press room at the Justice department so it wouldn't be seen topless behind him. They make any movie that has a hint of sex automatically a R rated movie, while buckets of blood will only get you a PG. But the real problem with America, the things that's ripping our country apart is GREED.

"We have made the Golden Calf the center of our society. We want to drive cleaner, more fuel efficient cars, but the Oil Industry has to have its record profits. We want better health care in our country, health care that's really based on the needs of the patients and not the insurance bureaucrats, but the Drug Industry has to have its record profits. The real priority of our government is to protect profits, no matter what is does to society as a whole. Hell, the only reason sex is so popular in our culture is that it sells.

"Is this what Jesus wants us to make our priority?" Amanda laid her little head on Tom's lap and he looked around to see reactions. There were several present listening to Hoot attentively: Petey Harms and his wife, Freddy Kleinschmidt and his wife, and a few others in their generation. In the back, Mutt Hayes took a shot from his hip flask and shook his head. He caught Tom's eye with a start and mouthed the word SENILE before shaking his head again.

After church, Tom and Amanda went to the Thriftway to stock up for the week. It was a light load: since Amanda was going to be gone from Monday to Friday, it lacked the mountain of hot dogs, chips and candy that kept her placated. They went to the check out, and she helped her father load the conveyor eagerly.

Sacking that day was Ashley Harms, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and wearing a tan blouse and jeans under her Thriftway smock. Tom only gave her a passing glance, but her eyes followed Amanda, leaking slightly around the corners. Ashley forgot her job momentarily, then began sacking and reloading Tom's cart. Ever the people person, Amanda started a conversation as her father dealt with the checker. "Hi, I see your name is Ashley."

"Yes," Ashley said with an amused smile.. "What's your name?"

"Amanda Joy Albright. But my friends call me Mandy."

"Oh, that's sweet. Can I be your friend, Mandy?"

Amanda pondered this with a finger to her mouth for a moment. "Okay, Ashley, you can be my friend. You seem like a nice lady."

"Thanks, Mandy." Streams of tears started flowing down Ashley's face. "I appreciate that."

Tom started pushing the cart out of the store, Amanda skipping along beside him. Ashley wiped her face and then sprinted to the back room. As they emerged to put the bags in the back of the Escape, he wondered at the display; although Ashley was an accomplice to Renee's flight from motherhood four years earlier, she wasn't a close friend at all and was one of the group that kept Renee isolated in High School. 

A few months earlier, Mutt commissioned a nude portrait of Ashley for his private enjoyment. Tom took the chance to put her through some very demanding and degrading poses; the picture ended up with her being the victim of torture by the Inquisition. It was his vengeance for her role in Renee's flight. She put up with the discomfort bravely, enduring hours of painful stretching without a word of complaint. After the work was finished, he lost track of the girl.

A text message en route home asked for a meeting that night, after Amanda's bedtime. He said yes out of curiosity, and suggested the Q and A Bar and Grill, the only place in the area that kept profane hours on the sacred day.

The Q and A Bar and Grill at night was a typical smoky dive that featured astounding Pork Tenderloins, Budweiser, and Live Music on Friday and Saturday nights. Tom looked around as he entered and saw five other patrons in the cavernous place. Two men in their sixties wearing Larry the Cable Guy apparel were shooting pool, and an incredibly thin forty year old with a moustache, shoulder length, kinky black hair, a two piece custom pool cue and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt was trying to hit on Ashley at the far end of the bar. Wearing an Aerosmith t-shirt, cutoffs and flip flops, she smoked a cigarette, gazing at the ceiling and blew out frustrated puffs while waiting for Tom to arrive.

Catching her eye as he entered, he wandered over to a back booth around the corner from the front door, and settled in. Refusing a menu, he ordered a draw to nurse while Ashley extricated herself from the middle aged loser. After a minute, she ground out her cigarette, leaped down and went to the Ladies' Room. The guy came over to Tom and asked: "Hey dude, ya wanna shoot some pool?"

"No thanks. Just wanna chill."

"Thanks, OK," he said, putting his half full mug on the table and starting to sit down.

"Nothing personal, dude, but I'm expecting a friend in a minute."

"That's cool." He landed across from Tom and made himself comfortable.

Tom shifted uneasily and looked toward the rest rooms. "No, I need the space."

"Okay." The man sat, staring at him blankly; his eyes dull after several rounds.

"Here, let me buy you a drink" Tom said, "and you can take on the winner at the table over there when they finish ." 

"Sweet." Escorting the scrawny man back to the bar, he set him up with another draw and put three quarters on the pool table. When he got back to his booth, Ashley was waiting for him, lighting a fresh cigarette.

She looked at Tom as he sat down, and tears began to leak out of her eyes again. "Thanks for coming, Mr. Albright. I really appreciate this."

"I was a little surprised at what happened at the Thriftway this afternoon."

"Well, it's a long story," she quavered, taking another drag. "When I saw you this afternoon, and started talking with your daughter, all the stuff I did to Renee came back to me, and I couldn't stand it. Mandy looks just like her mom and she's so sweet."

"Yes, I know," Tom took a deep breath and a sip from his mug. 

" I'm not a kid anymore, Mr. Albright, I'd done some rotten things to a lot of people, including you, and now I wish I could take them all back. I'm so sorry I hurt you, Mr. Albright, I'm so sorry and if there's anything I can do to make up for it, just let me know and I'll drop everything."

"Thanks, Ashley. Apology accepted. You were just a kid and didn't know what you were doing."

The door opened, and Mutt Hayes came in with Michelle Hawkins. Tom looked, then slid back toward the wall. They took a table toward the front, refusing menus. Ashley sensed Tom's discomfort and whispered: "What's wrong, Tom?"

"Mutt Hayes is here with my new neighbor," he whispered back. "I don't want either of them to see me here."

She turned around to look. The wanna be pool hustler was still tracking her like a vulture from his bar stool, and the new couple didn't see her check them out. "She's gorgeous," Ashley murmured, "I wouldn't mind going out with her myself." Tom looked surprised, "Yeah, I like to do it both ways, man or woman. My dream is to do both someday, me in the middle."

"Oh," he reliped, taking an awkward pull from his beer. "I didn't know."

She bent down conspiratorially. "You can't let that out in a town like this. Perverts like old Mutt and Cue Boy over here would love seeing two girls make out, but the other people in this town wouldn't put up with me. In fact, I would have loved a three way with you and Renee."

Tom put his mug down and looked at her blankly. "I'm sorry I said that," she said sympathetically. "You're still hurting about that, aren't you?" He nodded his head.

She tossed her head their direction. "Glad to see old Mutt is after a chick more his age," she continued.

"Oh? Tell me more."

She took another puff before continuing. "Well, you know he had you do all those paintings of us when we was eighteen?"

"Yes."

"Well, he also did all of us, fucked us one time or another. Old Pencil Dick laid out some big favors so we'd fuck him."

"Really?"

"Really, really. One of these days somebody's gonna catch him with his dick hangin' out at the wrong time."

Tom shook his head. "I thought old Mutt was all show and no go."

"Man, he's been loadin' up on Viagra, just like old man Hefner. Hope that classy lady isn't taken in; he's into some kinky shit."

She ground out her cigarette butt, and looked around again. The man who tried to chat her up took one look at her face, and headed for the door. The cable guys fed the pool table some coins and with a cacophony of crashing balls prophesied another rack of Eight Ball. An old couple between them and Mutt continued smoking and drinking. Mutt and Michelle received their drinks and with a toast began to sip them, their conversation too far away to be monitored.

"Be right back," Ashley said. Sliding over, she waltzed across the room right up to Mutt Hayes and asked in a loud voice. "Hi, Mutt. You hear anything from Samantha lately?"

Mutt put his glass down, looking Ashley over with a cool demeanor. "Hello Ashley Harms. What a surprise to see you this evening. No, I haven't heard anything from my granddaughter Samantha lately. Not for a couple of weeks."

"She like Mizzou?"

"Yes, she likes it a lot. She's got a new boyfriend from New Jersey that she's very fond of, his father's a shipping tycoon, and we're hoping she'll get a ring for Christmas. And you?"

"Oh, I'm doing this and that. I'd like to get back into modeling again."

"Well, that's wonderful, Ashley. I wish you luck with that endeavor. Any boyfriends on the horizon?"

"Nope. Takin' some time off." She turned to look at Michelle without saying anything.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ashley, this is Ms. Michelle Hawkins. She's new to the area, and she works at the child care center."

"I worked there for a while. Nice place, except for the kids."




Carefree Cove Ch. 05



"Nice to meet you, Ashley," Michelle said warmly, offering her hand. "I think I've seen your face before."

"Mr. Hayes had a painting of me. You probably saw it as his house."

"No, I haven't yet, but I'll look forward to it. I think I saw you at the grocery store."

"Oh, yeah, I work there, too."

"Are you going to college?"

"Not this year, tryin' to save some money."

"I know how it goes."

"Well, Ashley, I'll tell Samantha that you were asking about her," Mutt interjected. "I'm sure she'll be glad to hear from you."

"Yeah. Good night, Mr. Hayes, Good night, Ms. Hawkins."

Michelle gave her a genuine smile. "Good night, Ashley."

"Good night, my dear," Mutt said. He murmured under his breath for her to hear, "Don't let the door smack your ass as you go."

Ashley came back to the table, glancing over her shoulder, and slid in. "What did you do that for?" Tom asked.

"I'm evil. But not as bad as Mutt. Damn, that man thinks he's got Superman's balls hangin' between his legs. I don't care if his old lady is on the bottle, him takin' a classy lady out on Sunday night is ballsy. Bet he was in church this morning'. " Tom nodded in confirmation. "Goes to make himself look holy, and fucks every girl in the county. I think he'd even fuck somebody right on the altar if he could get away with it."

She looked at her watch, took a long, last drag and ground her cigarette in the ashtray. "I gotta run. You're sweet on that lady, I can tell it from your eyes."

He shook his head. "I can't deny it."

"I hope you win this little triangle. For your sake and hers." She sauntered out the door with a cheery wave to Mutt. In a few moments, Mutt and Michelle went to the bathroom at the same time, and Tom slipped out the door and home.

******

"Daddy, are you going to see more of my friend Shelley while I"m gone?" Amanda asked out of the blue as he drove her to her great-grandmother's trailer park.

"Yes, baby. I'll see her tonight." It took quite a bit of effort to keep his voice calm, with his anticipation at seeing her and his shock at seeing her with Mutt Hayes last night.

"Good. I hope you see a lot of her. A lot, a lot, a lot, a lot, a lot, a lot," 

Tom chuckled. "I'm glad I have your permission."

"Don't be silly, Daddy. You're a grown up, you can do what you want to." She watched out the window for a few minutes as they made the turn from the main road to the trailer park. "Do you think she's pretty?"

"Yes, but not as pretty as you."

"Thank you, Daddy. Maybe someday I can be your girlfriend."

"You're already my girlfriend, sweetheart, for the rest of your life. In the meantime, get ready, 'cause we're almost there." Pulling into the park next to Gracie's trailer, he shut off the engine and got out to unload his daughter and her bags. Grace Carter came out to greet them with a hug and a kiss.

"Hello, dearie," she said with arms outstretched to gather in her great-granddaughter. " You ready for some fun?"

"Yes, Grammie," she enthused.. "I'm ready to paint Branson red."

"Oh really? Well, let me see if I remembered the red paint, then." She took the bags from Tom and put them in her own trunk. Next to be transferred was Amanda's car seat. After she was buckled in, Tom and Gracie took a couple of steps out of earshot.

"You got enough money?" he asked the older woman.

"Yes, Tom. I've got enough, more than enough."

"And you've got my cell number?"

"As always, Tom, as always. You haven't changed it, have you?"

'No."

"Then stop worrying. We'll be all right. Smell my breath. How does it smell?" She breathed heavily in his direction.

His face gurned to its limit. "Awful, but clean."

"Well, you might be a little more considerate. . ." she replied, hitting him softly on the arm.

"Sorry, Gracie. A lot on my mind."

"That's all right, Tom. Don't worry about us. We'll see you Friday night, maybe Saturday."

"Either would be fine."

They looked around awkwardly for a moment, locating Amanda, who struggled to get her bags into Gracie's car. Tom helped her. When the task was done, Gracie turned to him and said simply: "Well, goodbye."

"Goodbye." Going over to Gracie's car, he opened the door and reached in to hug his daughter. "Bye, sweetheart. Have a good time."

She squeezed him hard. "Bye, Daddy. I love you."

"I love you. Bye." With a roar, Gracie's car pulled out of the lot and toward excitement. Tom followed shortly and made the turn to Carefree Cove.

********

"So Tom, how do you like the salad?"

"It's all right." They ate on the deck, savoring the Tuesday evening Lake breeze, the fading sky and the green trees. They were minimally dressed: Tom in a white shirt and shorts; Michelle in a green halter top, matching shorts and sandals. He had a white Sauvignon blanc that went well with the baby Spinach and tangerine salad she brought. 

She looked at him, probing with her wide brown eyes. "You're upset about something."

He pondered for a moment, and accessed the second biggest concern on his mind. She was gone the entire day before, and he spent his time working on the canvas of her as Mother Nature. "Well, it's Amanda. It's the first time she's been away from me for very long since she was a baby. Even though she's with Gracie, and I trust Gracie completely, the fact I'm not going to see her until Friday is bugging me. Rationally, I know it's all right, or else I wouldn't have sent them, but my irrational side is screaming in frustration."

A soft hand landed on the side of Tom's face. "That's all right, Irrational Tom," Michelle cooed sardonically, "your little girl's going to be all right. She's growing up and you're going to have to let her go."

Tom broke out with a snort. "She's only four years old. She may be going on 25 and acting like she's my mother, but she's only 4."

She stroked his face. Her eyes were magnetic: he felt an unstoppable momentum forward, to meet those eyes, the button nose, the full lips. He resisted for a moment, then advanced to plant his lips fully on hers, kissing her hard as the breeze rustled the greenery in prophecy of an approaching rain. Eagerly, she returned his kisses, opening her mouth slightly, probing with her tongue in search of his. 

Standing there for fifteen minutes, their tongues danced and their soft hands caressed each other's neck and shoulders. Their torsos ground together, almost dry humping in their desire, his shorts displaying his passion while her musk wafted up to compete with the flowers. Distant flashes played across the Northern horizon, the other side of the Lake, but the brunt of the storm was going to pass them at a distance.

Her left leg wrapped around his waist to caress his buttocks. Fumbling, he undid her halter top and pulled it from between them. His t-shirt came over his head, and their chests pressed together skin to skin as their lips devoured each other's. Her sandal came off, her leg stroked his up and down.

Breaking, he undid her shorts and ripped them down, then her pink lace panties. His own came off next, his pecker leaping proudly to life. She embraced him again, smothering his lips with hers, her heel seeking his asscrack, her hand pumping his piston. 

He moved his knee up and her legs parted. His thigh felt wetness coming down; the rain wasn't there yet. Their bodies gave off heat, their lips were inseparable, their hands roamed freely, stroking each other, their legs eager for the next move.

Picking her up, he lifted her to the lounger sitting on his deck. A few splatters in the leaves announced the coming shower; the water hit their skin and failed to slake their thirst for each other. She leaned back willingly, luxuriously, her legs parting in welcome. Her hand went down to guide him in, and her gradually introduced his yin to her yang.

As he hit bottom, he came back down to kiss her, his hand on her breast, as they began the slow tango of love. A few more drops hit them, the distant thunder crackled and the reflection of the setting sun peeking under the clouds turned the area a strange and mystic shade of green tinged red. Suddenly, the clouds covered the dying sun, turning everything unnaturally grey as the rain pelted down on the lovers, oblivious to everything except each other, as they made love in the rain. 

Ten minutes the deluge came down around them as they poured their love into each other. Their pace almost outstripped the storm, back and forth as the rain drenched them, but they paid no attention to the rain as they made love. Finally, they orgasmed together to a cascade of thunder and lightning, falling limp into each other's arms as the rain let up.

They clung damply to each other, shivering. He finally looked around. "The rain's stopped."

She looked up at him with fuzzy eyes. "I know. This was a heck of a way to cash in a rain check"

They snickered at that, and kissed. Tom looked down at her and said: "We need a hot shower."

"Mmm. A very good idea. Then some coffee and Amaretto, perhaps?"

"Perhaps."

They luxuriated in the hot water, washing away the chill and muck from the cold rain. Soaping each other, their passion returned, and they quelled it in the hot water together. Drying off, they forgot the coffee and the amaretto and went straight to a warm bed with clean sheets, whose fresh smell did not last half the night.

To be continued...



Carefree Cove Ch. 06



Another Seville Hills, Missouri Wednesday, and the Methodist Domino Club gathered on an August evening at the shelter house by the community pool. Mutt Hayes talked his grandsons and their friends into playing Texas Hold 'Em with his usual companions, with Reverend Hoot Pidgeon acting as dealer for the evening.

"Check."

"Call."

"Fold."

"Raise the pot."

"Fold."

"Call." Mutt Hayes looked smug as he peeked at his cards. His grandson Todd studied the old man, searching for a clue to his hand. The flop hit, and Todd's initial raise was re-raised by his grandfather. They both checked the Turn, and on the River, they raised until Todd was all in. Turning over his cards, he shouted: "Flush, old man, a motherfucking flush. Got you at last."

Mutt turned over his cards placidly. "Not against a full house, boy."

The young man's jaw dropped and he put his head in his hands. The old man smirked as he raked in the chips. "Look at it this way, boy. Someday, you're going to get this all back."

"Yeah, well, you can fucking well give to me after you die tomorrow."

"Thank you, son. Chip off the old block, I'm proud of you, even though you're a loser. Shall we go again?"

Todd got up and sauntered over to where Thomas Albright was at the side of the pool, sketching the WPA poolhouse. He was the youngest of the Methodist Domino Club with his grandfather, Reverend Hoot the dealer, Petey Harms, Freddy Kleinschmidt, and Chigger Jones. "Busted you too, I see," Tom guessed.

"Yeah. The old bastard." The young man was downcast.

"Well, don't let the bastards get you down." Tom said as his pencil captured another contour.

"You don't have my grandfather," came the rueful reply. "He's ruled this county since before my dad was born. I remember when I was little, there was that corporation that tried to develop Carefree Cove. You remember?"

"No, I really don't, even though I live there. Before my time."

"Well, a developer bought all the land around there, set up the town corporation, constructed some infrastructure, started building houses. Then, Grandfather found out is was going to be a Gay community, with room for 1500 residents from the beginning. He organized protests, got the old men over there involved in a petition, found a few old deeds, and sued to keep them from going through with it."

"I remember I got a great price for my house; so did Tom Smithson. Were they selling out?"

"Bingo. Grandfather made it so difficult for them: short-circuited some tax breaks, called some regulations violations to official attention, got some easements denied, found a rare animal whose habitat would be screwed up by construction. It took six months, but he did it. They gave up and relocated in Minnesota."

"First I've every heard of it."

"It's not spoken of. The developer was a friend of Grandfather's until he found out what the deal was. When Mutt Hayes gets pissed, everybody else gets pissed on.

Tom continued drawing calmly. "I have no doubt about who and what Mister Mutt Hayes really is," he said at last.

There was a pause as the kids splashed around the pool. Tabitha Smoot was lying on a chaise lounge,: she was a redheaded teen in a yellow, one piece suit that hid very little from view; her sunglasses made her appear unaware of the admiration coming her direction. Todd regarded her while Tom drew for several moments before picking up the conversation again. "The funny thing is we could've used the business. There'd be a lot of money here if Carefree Cove Resort opened for business."

"Your grandfather is a manipulator, that's for sure. But you don't have to be intimidated by him. My grandfather was a bootlegger who was afraid of nothing, a real badass. Even Mutt was afraid of him."

"No kidding."

"Nope. Your day will come. Hang loose and learn something. Especially, don't play cards with your grandfather, unless you get a lot better and don't fear him."

"Yeah," Todd said. Tabitha got up, climbed the ladder, and bounced deliciously on the diving board before a double somersault into the water. "Like to get a piece of that."

"Since her granddad's a minister, there's a verse from the Bible that'll help you." Tom said quietly.

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. 'Ask and it shall be given you, seek and you shall find.' "

Todd shook his head and looked at Tom incredulously. "No. Really?"

Tom looked the young man directly in the eye. "Well, you got two choices: you can ask her, find out if she's interested and if you're lucky, your dreams will come true and if you're not, you can find another dream. Or you can just keep slobbering over her from afar, never find out if she's possibly interested in you, and guarantee you'll never date anyone in your life, in which case, you might as well become a monk. Which do you want?"

He blinked in reply. "Oh, I want her. I'd do anything for her." 

"Then go over and ask if she's interested in ice cream later before you lose your nerve."

Todd did a double take at Tom, then looked over at Tabitha longingly. He looked down, driving his cranium at maximum capacity, then looked at her, then at Tom. "What?" he asked at last.

"Don't think about it; walk over there now and ask her out for ice cream. Think about it and you'll get scared. Just do it." He looked around confused again. "Look at me, Todd. Are you looking at me? Are you listening to what I'm saying? Don't think. Go ask her."

Tom dug a twenty out of his pocket and held it up. The boy started staring at it: the ticket to realizing his dream, or at least, his immediate desire. "Take it, or call a monastery and tell them you're on your way," Tom murmured. After a few moments, he plucked the bill from Tom's hand and he started to walk like a robot over to the fence where Tabitha was standing. He beckoned her over and murmured something to her. She didn't understand at first, but after a moment, she nodded and began walking to the pool house. He paralleled her, and moved around to wait for her by the door, his step getting firmer with each stride.

Tom hummed to himself. Hello, young lovers, wherever you are. . . 

Monica Hayes and Tammy Kleinschmidt waddled over in minuscule bikinis, dripping wet, their hair plastered down. "Hi, Mr. Albright," Monica smiled. "Would you paint our pictures? My Grandpa said he'd pay us fifty bucks each if you'd do it."

" I don't know," he said as he continued sketching. "Are you 18 yet?"

"Duh. Grandpa Mutt's known me all my life. He says my tits are the best in the family."

"He should know," Tom murmured. The fading sunlight played with their hair, and illuminated their young curves deliciously. They were too young for him, and the memory of his old lover Renee Carter still stung. She was about their age that year they spent together. He was Professor Higgins and she Eliza Doolittle, but they played George Bernard Shaw's version rather than Lerner and Lowe's, and she left him after a year with a sense of failure and a month old daughter to care for. Taking out his digital camera, he shot them together and separately in several poses, as they preened and flirted with the camera. As he worked, he didn't hear as much action from the poker game, but the conversation drifted his way. ". . .well, this lady's heart's been broken badly, and she's desperate for someone to tell her she looks beautiful," Mutt Hayes declaimed

"And God anointed you for this task?" Hoot chuckled.

"No, I'm just at the right place at the right time. Been playing my cards right, going slow, and soon, I'm going to cash in."

"Mr. Hayes, are you going to play cards?" Benny Kingman, Freddy's grandson, asked.

"Don't be in such a hurry to lose you money, son. Look at the pool for a minute; there's something there that'll keep your attention." The young man gasped as he saw from a distance what Tom was drawing. Mutt continued: "No, I think we may be looking at number four if things go my way."

"You're optimism embodied, Mutt," Freddy opined.

"Stupidity embodied," Mutt's grandson Jim Hayes contributed.

"Yeah, Mutt, after two failures and another wife on the ropes, don't you think you ought to give up?" Petey put in. "Marriage just ain't for you." + "Right, Petey." Hoot agreed. "Where is she now, Don Juan? Isn't she usually here on Wednesday night?"

"I think she's working late at the child care center," Mutt said calmly.

'How do you know?"

"Well, I had dinner with her last night, and if she was free tonight, I sure as shit wouldn't be here. Call." The showdown cost Freddy's grandson the rest of his chips; Mutt chortled with glee as he raked the chips in.

Tom struggled to pay attention to the young ladies in front of him, but he got his focus back and finished before the lifeguard blew his whistle to clear the pool for the evening. The girls were delighted at the work he showed on the little screen of his camera. He got out his clipboard and each signed a model's release. Squealing, they scampered off.

The game broke up as Tom walked back to the shelter house. Mutt had most of the chips, the rest of the Methodist Domino Club members had smaller stacks to cash out, and the boys were predicably broke. Their grandfathers knew better than go all in with Mutt Hayes. Hoot was giving him the Look That Could Maim, but Mutt's Armor of Disdain was foiling it. Petey and Freddy were talking and got into Petey's truck for the ride home. Tom established they were gathering next week

As he drove home on the winding gravel road, he had to screech to avoid hitting a deer. Lightning was playing in the distance again, and most of the stars were blocked from view. Pulling into his drive, he saw only darkness from Michelle's house across the way: was she meeting Mutt again tonight? He threw the keys on the end table by his door as he entered the house, walking over to the bar to fix himself a Tanqueray and Tonic. 

Sipping it, he walked around his great room aimlessly. The silence of the evening hung heavily, punctuated by distant thunder. Memories flooded back of Monday night: making love on the deck in the rain, sleeping entwined in his big bed and waking during the night to continue their passion, the morning wading in the cool water while watching her swim naked. 

Going back onto the deck, he had a first balcony view of the storm passing to the north. Putting down his drink, he made a pitcher of Tanqueray and Tonic with an entire lime, and brought out his box of Cohiba cigars. Smoking cigars was an occasional vice he practiced when Amanda was elsewhere. Stoking the cylinder to life, he sat on a deck chair beside the lounger and wondered whether Michelle would come back to him, or fall for the aging rich Lothario who would surely break her heart.

He started pacing as he blew huge billows of smoke. What could she see in the dirty old man anyway? Didn't the past few days mean anything to her? The old man may be into kinkier shit than he was, and flaunted his money, but she was closer to his age and such a perfect lover.

It was dark across the way at Michelle's house. His cock stirred in remembrance of the evening before, hoping for more. At ten o'clock, her lights went on for while, then went out. Car doors opened and closed, and her car roared off into the night.

Where was she going? Images of her meeting Mutt Hayes at a local hotel came to mind, smiling at his charming conversation, excited by his wealth, intrigued by a local patrician. Maybe he should have told her about his own financial status: years of working for the Kansas City corporation as a senior executive made his Lake lifestyle possible, and he would be able to provide Amanda's needs and quite a few of her wants for the rest of her life. 

Blowing great gusts of smoke, he created his own personal cloudbank that evening. The sight of her and Mutt at the Q and A kept coming back to him. He wondered briefly about Ashley's sincerity in her repentance, but if Mutt took advantage of her, the need for vengeance would explain a lot. 

It was well past midnight before he made his uncertain way up the stairs. He walked past the series of Renee growing rounder with each portrait. The journey always saddened him, refreshing old pain, and when he got to the last one, he had to turn and regard the portrait of his daughter that hung over his fireplace across the Great Room. Alcoholic sentimentalities shifted to less maudlin feelings, and he was able to prepare for bed.

But as he spun into slumber on his double bed, the image of Michelle's smiles of amusement at Mutt's stories at the Q and A haunted him. He pictured her at his disposal: he'd done some very gruesome work for Mutt on commission, and the vision of her chained next to torture equipment with Mutt's smirking face under the torturer's hood would not go away.

He woke up the next morning to the phone ringing. His head was muzzy from the night before and his mouth tasted like an ash tray; had he drunk a whole pitcher of Tanqueray and Tonic and smoked three cigars? The phone would wake Amanda; no, she was still gone, on vacation with her great grandmother Gracie in Branson. What day was it? Thursday. The phone kept ringing, he picked it up and rasped: "Hello?"

"Hi Daddy. How's it goin'?"

"Fine, sugar. You have fun your first day with Grammie?"

"Oh, yes. We had to stop and rest a couple of times, but we did a lot of shopping. There's a toy store down here that has everything! You should see it, Daddy."

"I'm glad, punkin'."

"It goes on and on and on and on. I got a new doll and a lots of clothes for her." He chuckled to himself, since it was almost impossible to keep her clothed around the house and down by the Lake in the summertime. "And we got a new game that Grammie and me played last night. It's called Snakes and Ladders. Every play that one, Daddy?"

"Yes, baby. It's a lot of fun, isn't it?"

"Absolutely. Did Shelley leave for her trip yet?"

He did a double take at the phone; was Michelle telling her things she didn't tell him? "What Amanda?"

"Shelley said she was gonna be gone a few days. Tears came down her face when she told me. She didn't know when she's coming back. Did she go yet?"

"No, Amanda, she didn't tell me, but she left last night. Do you know where she's going?"

"No, Daddy. She looked very worried." Her voice took on a teasing, sing-song tone. "I think she's worried you'll miss her too much."

"Now Amanda. . ."

"I gotta go, Daddy." Back to business. "Are you working today?"

"Yes, baby. I'm doing a painting of Michelle." "That's nice, Daddy. 'Bye."

He stared at the phone in his hand. Michelle knew she was leaving yesterday, told his daughter and not him. She knew the kid wouldn't have time to spill the beans too soon. What the fuck was she up to? 

The steamy water finished off the hangover. As he soaped himself, Monday night's tender lovemaking with Michelle flooded back; he turned and expected to see her beside him, soapy and alluring. His cock sprang out and he started to jerk off, but the vision of her with Mutt in the bar Sunday night and her unexplained absence cooled his passion as quickly as it arose. He hurried to rinse off so he could get dressed and move on to something else, anything else.

He dressed in a Mizzou T-shirt and overalls. On the walls of his room was his daughter's art work: she was a finger painting enthusiast, and an abstract artist. His old acquaintance, Livingston Alastair Quigley, had been after him to do some abstract work for years. This was not a morning for delicate brushwork; it was a morning for something visceral He put on a pair of slip ons and bounded down the steps by twos.

Tom spread a canvas on the concrete floor and marked out an eight by six work area. Mixing some paint, he came up with a palette of primary and secondary colors to work with; might as well stay basic at the beginning. A couple of wide brushes, a thick one and a fine brush were prepared, and after some thought, they were put away again.

Going out to the deck, he surveyed his view of the Lake. Clouds were gathering in the west again; a tropical storm wandering around Texas was sending moisture North to soak Missouri. The rain wasn't close, and it would be welcome after a dry July. A few sailboats were on the water, and a couple of pontoons sailed toward the Party Cove 10 miles away. He was tempted to untie his pontoon and head over: the Party Cove was uninhibited fun, but he had business to take care of.

Mutt Hayes face hung in his mind's eye: smiling, greasy and conniving. Tom had knew he was a local power boss, with friends in high places, and a hammer lock on county government. However, this was the man after his lover. Her face as she stood naked in front of the waterfall, mature sexuality embodied, occupied him. The thought of her in his grubby clutches made his stomach turn. 

Anger boiled within him, and he ran back downstairs, grabbed a pot of paint and assaulted his canvas with fierce globs of red pigment. Kneeling beside the canvas, his hands trailed harsh, thick lines in jagged patterns, occasionally flattening his palms to work the paint into a smudge.

He paced around the canvas like a madman, walking out to work on patterns with his bare feet. His toe made wide semicircles; he squeezed pure color into dots that stood up like erect nipples. The energy faded, and he became more reflective, but another glance at Michelle refired his passion and he began to throw yellow paint around the canvas from the center. The next few hours alternated manic dances of creativity punctuated by reflective lulls. At 4:00, he cleaned himself and drove away from town, away from Seville Hills, stopping for dinner at a greasy spoon in the next county, and wandering the roads to Arkansas before returning to throw himself on his bed and falling into black dreams.

*******

The phone rang in the dim morning light, and a familiar voice was on the other end. "Hi, Daddy! How's it going?"

"Fine, Sweetheart. Are you having a good time with Grammie?"

"I'm having a great time with Grammie. We went out on the Branson Belle today; it was so much fun, but they wouldn't let me go swimming. Yesterday, Grammie went to the beach, and an old man came up and asked her for a date! She said no, but it would have been okay with me."

"Was he a handsome man?"

"No, Daddy. He was fat and old and wrinkled. Didn't have any hair on his head at all, and his toes were all crooked, like Grammie's. Are you having a good time?"

"Yes, baby. I took a lot of pictures today."

Yipee. Did you take pictures of Shelley?"

"No, she's still gone."

"Oh. Yeah, she told me she was going visit her little girl, an' it might be a while. Didn't know when she'd be back." Tom sighed with relief at first: but did the trip back mean an attempt to reconcile with her husband? The thought she might not return to Carefree Cove made him sad. At least she was clear of Mutt Hayes for a while, and if he had anything to do with it, she would never see his smirking face again.

"Daddy, do you miss me?"

"Yes, angel. I miss you a lot."

"A lot?"

"A lot, a lot, a lot, a lot, a lot, a lot."

"Sing the song, Daddy!"

It took a moment to clear his throat before he warbled: "That's my daughter in the water. . . "

After he finished, she asked him: "Would it be all right if Grammie and I stayed here another day?"

"You sure?"

"Oh, yes. There's an art fair at Silver Dollar City and I want to look at the pictures. Grammie said I could go."

"Well, if it's okay with Grammie, it's okay with me. Put her on."

"Yipee."

A moment later, Gracie came on the line. "Hi. Well, you got the big question. I take it we can stay?"

"Sure Gracie, if you're having a good time and she isn't bored yet. I took her fishing the other day, and she loved it."

"I'm surprised she can sit still that long."




Carefree Cove Ch. 06



"Oh yes she can, if she thinks there's something in it for her. But she didn't want to keep the fish; she made me turn them loose and she blew them goodbye kisses."

He laughed out loud at that. "Do you have enough money for the additional day?"

"Oh yes, Tom. You gave us way too much anyway."

"All right. Well, keep me posted."

"Sure. Don't have too much fun today, Gracie."

"Don't worry about it." The faint echo of his daughter's goodbye came through before the connection was terminated.

The morning was dawning clear with the promise of midday heat once again. After a simple breakfast, Tom went downstairs where he worked on Michelle's Mother Nature painting again. A strange peace settled over him, and he wanted to be alone all day with no one else around. He referred to the digital images he took days before: her eyes sparkled as she looked at him through the lens. Gently he stroked the canvas with his brush, as his hand stroked her soft skin the week before. Every flower was his fingertip circling her nipple, every long stroke his hand traveled her thigh to quicken her breathing.

By noontime, the painting was almost done, and a large damp spot pushed out from his sweat pants. His balls were tight and full, aching for release, and he took a long shower to relieve his tension, painting the walls sticky white with his frustration's release. The painting was done in the midafternoon, and he fixed a cooler of Sam Adams to join him on the deck for the rest of the day and long into the evening. He smoked two cigars, blowing billows into the night air once again, the image of his Michelle with Mutt Hayes still burning in his mind's eye.

******* He awoke with a start in fully daylight, with another hangover and ashtray taste in his mouth. Gravity worked very well that morning, and it took him an hour after awakening before he could shower and stagger downstairs. Only iced tea satisfied his needs, and he sipped it slowly as three aspirin dulled the ache in his head.

For the first time in days, he looked across the way and saw signs of life. A glance at the cove: she was reclining nude once again, her bronze skin reveling in the new day. Why was she gone? Who did she see? What was going on with Mutt? There was a somber look on her face that made him think twice about approaching her. He snapped a few digital shots of her as she sunbathed at the lakeshore below him.

She stirred and seemed to look his direction; he darted inside and pounded the counter in irritation. "Shit," he said to no one, "I'm no better than those boys in the parking lot. Acting like a damn teenager, sneaking peeks. Hell, I've fucked the shit out of that woman, why am I afraid of her?" Stomping around, he thought of going down the lakeside to see her, but every time he started out the door he stopped with a jolt.

Finally, he stomped upstairs and sat down at his computer, fiddling with unnecessary office work nervously until noon. When the grandfather clock in the hall struck the hour, he ran out the front door and drove into town and the Q and A Bar and Grill.

Tom found the Q and A Bar and Grill fairly empty. Taking a table around the corner from the front door, he sat with his back to the door. He ordered a grilled tenderloin and salad, and after he got his food, the DOM gang came in together and took a table by the front window. Mutt Hayes was with them, so he stayed quiet. After placing their orders, the old men sipped their coffee as they discussed the world's troubles. 

Hoot shook his head sadly. "It's hell getting older. My drug costs just went up again."

"What?" Freddy said. "I thought the Church took care of its own?"

"The Church's got to since Jesus ain't walkin' around healin' people any more," Chigger Thompson sneered. A native of New York retired three years ago, he was the resident agnostic in Baptist Seville Hills.

"Shut up, Chigger," Hoot carped. "All you guys are feelin' it too, I know. We're all on at least 12 pills a day, except Mutt, who only takes his 10 Viagara."

"One to break every Commandment. Jealous, boys?" A chorus of sneers answered his boast. "I'm serious, guys, this is just another way this country's getting screwed," Hoot began. "All this talk of freedom: it's freedom to get sodomized by the rich and the strong, by whoever really makes the rules. Give your life to a company who promises you a pension and benefits for life? Gone, just because somebody isn't making enough money. A flicker of worry in an oil producing area? Boom, gas is twenty cents a gallon higher just cause somebody's worried that their profits might be endangered. And the kids get upset cause we didn't save our money, cause we're a drain on them. They don't care we had an agreement when we were younger that we'd be taken care of , and corporations have no problem walking away from that. Wait till their masters screw them for no good reason."

"C'mon, Hoot, when did you become a Democrat?" Mutt jibed, "Everybody in this country who's willing to work hard has a chance to get ahead."

"Just like Sysiphus. If you work hard enough, you'll get the stone up the hill, but something always trips you and you're at the bottom again. Look at old Gracie in the trailer park. Most of her income goes for her medication and her rent. Where does she find cash for food, phone and utilities? There's no way she has a credit rating worth anything? Not after spending all her free cash on booze more of her life. God help her if she gets sick. How's she supposed to work harder and get the gravy?"

Mutt spread his hands wide. "Look, this country is still the greatest in the world. Everyone has the opportunity to get ahead. Chigger, Petey and Freddy worked hard all their life for a fine retirement; you don't hear them complaining"

"I'm gonna lose the farm in two years if I'm still alive," Freddy murmured.

"My drug plan gets cut next week," Chigger sighed.

"I have to eat home-made peanut butter five nights a week," Petey groused. 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, heard that song before Petey," Mutt continued, undeterred. "Capitalism is the greatest system the world has ever known, and the most equitable way to distribute the wealth."

"You and your buddies run this county," Hoot fired back.. "If you like somebody, they prosper, and if you don't, they fail. You preach opportunity enough to bullshit stupid people into thinking they have it, and count on enough indifference and discouragement to keep from being challenged at the polls. Whenever a big developer shows up, you pull out pants down and work in the butt grease to help them sodomize us, and whenever business needs a handout, you're the first to pull out our wallets and empty them. This isn't the land of the Free, Mutt, this is feudalism reborn."

The air was still in the Q and A, and Eric Clapton's Tears in Heaven wasn't making much of an impression. The other diners had stopped eating; the bartender was giving them his full attention. Tom leaned closer to hear what came next.

"You're one to talk, Mr. High and Mighty. When you started there was some moral force in the Methodist Church, some sense of right and wrong. But it got lost in the free love--hippy--peace now '60s and never came to its senses again. Have you preached fire and brimstone lately, Rev. Pidgeon? Everybody in the world joining hands and skipping through Heaven's Gate? Seems like Satan's in still in business."

"So you're the moral backbone of the town, Mr. Hayes? The great robber baron is the model of us all?"

"We could do worse. I've worked hard, and God has rewarded me, because as you know, the Lord helps those who help themselves. We've gotten the right men elected to local government, and in the state. In a few years, we'll have washed out all the liberal shit that's corrupted our system of government since FDR and get this country back on the right track again, by God."

"I don't think it's by God, and you're part of the problem, not the solution, Mutt."

"That's all I need to hear, Rev. Pidgeon. From now on, I'll go to Zion Grove Baptist. At least Brother Sam knows how God and Country work together." With that, he stomped out of the bar, started his Lincoln Town Car, and moved off into the shimmering afternoon.

"He's gonna have a hard time at Zion Grove," Freddy Klienschmidt observed from under his John Deere hat. "Brother Sam don't cotton to drinking, and Mutt ain't drawn a sober breath since he was 12."

Muffled laughter chorused agreement.

*********

The drive home was uneventful. He walked into the house and looked at Amanda's picture over the fireplace. She was sitting on the sofa, wearing her favorite yellow dress with a blue ribbon in her blonde hair. A broad, toothy smile lit up her face; her bare, tan legs hung off the couch and her toes seemed to wiggle impatiently as the subject longed to bound from her seat to a new adventure.

A chocolate cake Tom didn't bake rested on the counter, with an unsigned card. It read: "Back from the trip and I'm here to stay. MISSED YOU." The afternoon heat hung over the cove, and a glance at the shoreline was unproductive. Tom opened a Sam Adams and worked up the courage to look at the house. 

Her car was gone. He shook his head in disbelief; what she was doing completely missed him. Downstairs, her portrait hung, the Earth Goddess ripe with fertility and irresistible sexuality. Her smell hung in his nostrils, her touch tingled on his skin, the memories were so vivid. These feelings had been absent for almost five years since Renee abandoned him. 

Mounting a canvas on the wall, he filled several sandwich bags with paint. Fetching several more beers, he threw the improvised paint bags at the canvas with his full force, then decorated and connected them with rugged black lines. After cleaning up, he took his digital camera on a whim to snap a few shots, sending them to Alastair Livingston Quigely in New York just to see what kind of response he'd get. Quigley had been pestering him for years to try his hand at abstracts; Tom wanted to show him how stupid the idea was.

Going to his bedroom, he threw himself on the bed, falling into a deep sleep as his passion suddenly ran out of gas. It was dusk before he awakened, and a return to town to get the news seemed like a great idea.

*****

Tom entered the Q and A Bar and Grill around 6:30PM, and found his buddies Freddy Kleinschmidt and Petey Harms sitting at a table toward the back. "You guys been here all day?" he asked.

"Not quite," Freddy said. "We had a little excitement after we left earlier." 

"Oh?" Tom asked.

"Hoot had a heart attack," Petey said flatly.

"When?"

"Around 2:00. After we left, Petey and I had some errands to run, and Hoot went home to mow his yard. He was pretty worked up: Mutt started an argument with him over lunch and he was still steaming about it when he left. Evidently, the fool didn't drink enough water before he went out, and the heat got to him."

"Is he gonna be okay?"

"They took him up to Fairhaven Regional Hospital," Freddy said quietly. "Just got off the phone with his wife Jan. They got him stable, and did a test. Tomorra' they're gonna see if he needs replumbing " 

"That's what happened to me a coupla years ago, remember?" Petey added. "Got short of breath while I was on the tractor in the garden, went in and they had to come out and jump start me, bring me back. Ended up with four bypasses."

"The fact that he made it to the hospital should make all the difference," Tom concluded. 'Are you going to see him tomorrow?"

"Naw," Petey drawled. "His kids are coming in and there'll be a crowd. He'll be back pretty soon, probably late next week, and we can run by the house once he gets settled back in."

"Oh. Well, I guess I'll wait, too. Unless Amanda wants to see him."

The older men chuckled to themselves. "Little girls are a force of nature more powerful than tornadoes," Petey observed.

"When does she get back?" Freddy asked.

"Tomorrow morning." 

At that moment, Tom's cell phone went off, and a familiar voice said: "Hi Daddy!"

"Hi, sweetheart. How's it goin'?"

"Swell. Grammie and I want to stay another day."

"What? How come?"

"There's a rodeo tomorrow night at Springfield and I wanna see it. Can I, please, can I?"

Hopes for the next day helped him with his answer. "All right, sugar, I guess so."

"Yipee!"

"But only if you don't wear your Grammie out."

"Oh, I"ll be good to her. I've been a very good girl the whole week, just ask!"

"How was the art fair?"

"It was bee-you-tee-full. Some really pretty pictures, almost as good as yours, Daddy."

A tear crept from the corner of Tom's eye, and his friends looked away. "I'm glad you had a good time. What else did you do?"

"We went out for pizza. It was really fun, lots of games to play. Grammie and I spent three hours there."

"That all?"

"No, we went fishing for a while. Didn't catch a darned thing."

"I'm glad you're having a good time. Does Grammie want to talk to me?"

"Yes, Daddy, let me get her." She managed to get away from the phone enough that her scream for her great-grandmother didn't deafen her father. "Hi, Tom. How's it going?" Gracie said when she took the line.

"All right for the most part. Rev. Hoot had a heart attack."

"Oh, no. Is he all right?"

"So far, so good. They've got him up in Fairhaven."

"That's all right I guess."

"Yeah. Don't tell Amanda yet, I'll tell her when she gets home. You can go to church down there, that'll be easier."

"Sure, I guess the walls won't fall in if I show up for a church where nobody knows me."

"Doesn't hurt to curry favor at this time of life. You'll get back around lunchtime Sunday?"

"I think so. I know I can't take more than that; you may have to send an ambulance after me if we're out longer than that."

"Okay, Gracie. Pace yourself. . ."

"That's easy for you to say."

"And have a good time. Does Amanda want to talk again?"

"Yes, hold on." There was a pause as Gracie passed the phone.

"Hi, Daddy."

"Now you be a good girl and promise me you'll come home no later than lunchtime Sunday."

"I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die. I need to ask you one more thing, Daddy. . ."

"Yes?"

"Sing the song, Daddy! Sing the song!"

"That's my daughter in the water. . . "

Freddy and Petey murmured along as Tom sang as loud as he dared in a public place. The bar other patrons paid them no notice, the blues tracks playing in the background covered the long distance serenade. The bar began to fill: four men wearing sleeveless t-shirts began playing pool; three women over 60 perched on barstools looking around and chatting with each other; an impossibly thin man, a scarecrow in his late 40's with shoulder length hair, moustache and sideburns put his two piece pool cue together and chatted with the bartender as he looked around.

"Thanks, Daddy," she gushed when they finished. "Are you in a bar?"

"Yes, Amanda, I am at the Q and A. I'm here with your uncle Petey and uncle Freddy."

"Is uncle Hoot or uncle Mutt there?"

"No, baby, they're busy." The older men snorted in derision.

"Well, I guess it's okay since they'll make you behave. Good night, Daddy." 

"Good night, sweetheart." He flipped the phone closed.

"That's really pathetic when your little girl won't let you go out with your buddies on Friday night," Petey snorted.

"Did she give you permission to stay out late?" Freddy chimed in.

"Go to hell. Both of you know if your wives called you here, you'd be in deeper shit than that." They both laughed loud, amplified by a touch of nerves. Tom smiled to himself, while wondering where Michelle was, and whether Mutt was with her.

To be continued...  



Carefree Cove Ch. 07



It was a quiet evening at the Q and A Bar amd Grill in Seville Hills, MO. Thomas Albright sat with two of his friends, Petey Harms and Freddy Kleinschmidt, nursing beer. The hour was just past 8:00. Tom was a relatively young man at 51 compared to his two friends, who were grizzled old men in their 70s. The old men was on furlough from their wives of many years; Tom was a fugitive from his home at Carefree Cove, trying not to think where his lover of the past few days, Michelle Hawkins, might be. 

The bar filled to three quarters capacity: the heat was making everyone languid. The band showed up and began to set up their equipment on the tiny stage, and started doing sound checks. At Eight, they began their first set. The pool players kept going; the women danced together; the Scarecrow watched with envy; Petey and Freddy drank beer. Every woman in the place asked Tom to dance, and he obliged most of them, limiting them to one dance apiece.

Suddenly, Michelle walked through the door, followed by Mutt Hayes. Michelle wore a blue wrap around skirt and yellow cover-up over a flesh covered bikini. Her graceful curves made Tom's heart leap: her round hips switched back and forth as she crossed the room, and her breasts bobbed gracefully. Mutt pranced behind her anxiously, eager to pull a chair out for her, seating her facing away from Tom's group. Glancing over her shoulder, he beamed at the old men like a Chesire Cat. Tom slid back into the depths of the booth, staying out of sight. 

After seating her, Mutt took his place across from her and listen as she spoke. She was too far away for Tom to hear, and he couldn't tell much from her body language. Petey and Freddy looked at each other, and at the new couple before turning again to their beer. The music played and the evening went on; several women tried to catch Tom's eye, but he avoided them.

In a lull, a piece of the conversation drifted to the secluded booth:

". . .I had a lovely time on the boat this afternoon, Mutt. I never realized the Lakeshore was so extensive."

"You're welcome, my dear. Anytime you're in the mood, let me know and we'll go out again."

"You're most kind."

"How was your trip these past few days?"

Her shoulders sagged. "I don't wish to talk about it," she said in a proud voice.

His eyebrows went down. "As you wish. I hope when you're ready, you'll be able to confide in me."

"Thank you." Mutt took a sip of his beer, his eyes fixed on his companion. Tom's eyes bore through Michelle's back, trying to read her expression through the back of her head. "I wish you'd let me take you somewhere nicer for dinner. The Seville House has excellent prime rib."

"No, thank you. I prefer everyday places like this. I'm just a simple girl."

"Hardly," he snorted. "You're the most interesting woman I've met for years. And the most lovely."

"You're kind, Mutt, but you're married. I was hoping you could help me find a job, not take me on a series of social engagements."

"Nonsense, nonsense," Mutt interjected emphatically. "You've been longing for company and you went with me willingly. Don't play games with me; let's keep things honest."

Petey almost snorted in his beer and Freddie rolled his eyes in disbelief. A rail thin middle aged woman with long, brown hair tried to get Tom's attention and beckoned him over, but he refused to go. She looked at him oddly, then tossed her head in disdain.

Ashley Harms and Maria Garcia came in. Ashley wore a Discovery Channel t-shirt, cutoff and flip flops; Maria a brown top and shorts that almost blended in with her Latina hue. Maria was a tall girl, five nine, and rather chubby, with heavy breasts; she'd put on a few pounds in the past five years. Ashley wore little makeup. The girls came directly over to the table where the men were sitting.

Ashley bent over and kissed her grandfather Petey on the cheek, as Tom sought to squeeze himself tighter in the corner of the booth.. "Hi, Grandpa. Fancy meeting you here."

He embraced her tightly from his sitting position, mashing her right breast into his face. "This is my favorite grandchild. How's it going, sweetie?"

"Fine, Grandpa" she smiled.

Freddie leaned across to speak. "Hello, Maria, how's it going?"

"All right, Mr. Kleinschmidt," Maria said, "just taking a night off from the baby. He kept me up most of last night, but today was better. Getting to be a big boy, and I bet he's going to be walking any day now. Mama's looking after him so I can have a break. The music sounds good."

"Yes, it does."

Petey gestured amicably. "Do you girls want to join us tonight? There's some good music happenin' "

Ashley smiled and shook her head. "Maria and I have some girl talk to catch up on. We'd just bore you old men. We'll take a table over there and if we need help fighting off the hordes of admirers, we'll stand up and scream."

The old men laughed. "All right. Don't be a stranger."

"Bye."

"Bye."

As the girls left and their backsides switched to and fro as they walked, Tom caught the bartenders attention and pointed to indicate these newcomers were on his ticket. The barman nodded, and Tom gave a thumbs up.

The girls sat at a table in the back, behind Mutt Hayes. Mutt grew uncomfortable at their presence, and became more animated talking with Michelle, their conversation lost in another song. After a minute, Michelle started to shake her head in negation. He said more and gestured frantically, however she kept shaking her head. Whipping out her cell phone, she bolted from her seat and walked out the door quickly, dialing en route, while he sat dumbfounded. She looked neither right or left, and didn't notice any of the other patrons in the bar. A slamming door and the beginning of a phone conversation marked her departure. Ten minutes later, the town taxi pulled up to take her away.

Mutt finished his drink, and refused to order an evening meal. Nodding to Petey and Freddy, he went out the door with determination, a new objective in sight.

The men sat around a bit longer, in solemn alcoholic vigil for their friend. After 10:00, the older men drifted out the door, with no news forthcoming. 

Sirens flew by in the night, around 10:15PM, several in a row. Tom resisted the urge to look out the window; Ashley and Maria came across the bar to see what they could. "State troopers," Ashley said.

"Lots of 'em" Maria observed. "They haven't heard about my moonshine factory, have they?"

Ashely snorted. "No, I bet it's just a drug raid. Maybe they found a meth lab before it blew up."

"Yeah, that's gotta be it." The girls went back to the table with smug looks on their faces.

The ride home went quickly, and Tom noticed Michelle's lights were still on when he got in. He kept the lights off until the girls were inside. Going to the kitchen where his answering machine was, there was a message from Michelle: "Hello, Tom. Sorry you haven't been around today. I need to talk with you. Call me no matter how late you get in. 'Bye."

The phone was answered on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Hi, it's me?"

"Hi, Tom. How's it going?"

"All right. You?"

"Working things out. It's been a rough couple of days." A profound, expressive yawn came across the receiver. "I want to see you."

"I want to see you, too, but I've had a long day and you sound beat. How about breakfast at your place tomorrow morning?"

"How about at your house?"

"Ah, I've got to spend tomorrow cleaning up around here. Let the place go to pot with Amanda gone with her Grammie. Let me come to your house around 8:30, and I'll bring some fresh rolls."

Another yawn. "All right, I guess I'll take that, but I want you now."

"Sorry about that. Just a little longer."

"If you insist. Night."

"Night." He put the phone down and watched as her lights went off a minute later. Going upstairs, he went through his bedtime ritual, but sleep refused to come. He got up and went to his studio to find inspiration was missing as well. In desperation, he switched on his computer and logged into his office in Kansas City. With single minded determination, he lost himself in company busywork and by daybreak, he was six months ahead.

******

Another Missouri August Saturday morning was beginning to steam. The grass of the hills around the Lake of the Ozarks were showing brown as three weeks without rain took its toll. By the lakeshore, the waters had receded and the mud was drying. No wind was stirring the trees around Carefree Cove, and the world seemed to sit with its tongue hanging out, dreading another struggle against heat and humidity.

The hazy morning was shattered by the phone ringing. Tom picked it up: "Hello?" he rasped.

"Hi Daddy! Did I wake you up?"

"Yes, punkin. You did."

"Just wanted to be the first to tell you good morning."

"Thanks. You succeeded sweetheart."

"I got a great idea."

"Yes, sugar?"

"I want you to paint my picture again."

"Sure, Amanda. Soon as you get home."

"I want you to paint it with my friend Shelley."

"Fine. Happy to do it," he yawned. Licking his lips, his mouth tasted awful. "That all, sweetheart?"

"Naked. It's gotta be naked. Both of us."

Tom sat up in bed. "We'll talk about it. Aren't you going to the rodeo today?"

"Yes, Daddy. Grammie is real excited about it. She says she hasn't seen a real rodeo since she was a girl."

"That's great. Is she doing all right?"

"Yes, Daddy. She looks a little tired, but she says it's nothing. I gotta go, Daddy."

"All right, Amanda. You have a nice day."

"Thanks, Daddy. One more thing. . ."

"Yes."

"Sing the song, Daddy! Sing the song!"

"That's my daughter in the water. . ."

Tom's voice was worse for wear in the early morning, especially since he hadn't slept the night before but he managed Peter Blegvad's song as best he could. When he finished, his four year old daughter on the other end giggled her appreciation, said goodbye and hung up before he could reply. He went through his morning routine and dressed.

He looked out over his deck at the haze hanging over the lake. His blue swim trunks went down toward his knees; his loose fitting shirt caught occasional breezes; his straw hat provided a large shadow and his water shoes kept his feet protected from hazards on the lake bottom as he waded. Tom never learned how to swim, but accompanying his aquatic daughter to the cove made him appreciate the water. He was sensitive about his weight: his six foot one frame held far more pounds than he wanted, and his dark hair and beard was sprinkled with grey, the result of his 51 years.

Down below he saw Michelle going down the path to her dock around 8:30. She wore a short robe on her Rubenesque frame, her blonde hair flowing down toward her shoulders, and her feet bare. When she got to the lounger on her dock, the robe came off and she stood naked in the morning light, stretching to work out the kinks and greet the sun. She was 42 years old, but Tom would have called her perfect, finely ripened. An unripe woman had been his downfall five years before.

He'd have to go down there this morning. Surely she saw his lights, and wondered where he was. His self esteem was low since he was thinking like a shy high school boy, but even after their intimacy, his doubt was still gnawing at him. If he waited until the next day, Amanda would be home to run interference for him, but Michelle would wonder today why his daughter wasn't around.

He realized there was no choice: he had to go meet her. Finishing his tea, he made his way down to his dock, and stepped into the water. She saw him immediately, and stood up to wave, smiling broadly. "Hello, Tom."

"Hello, Michelle. Long time no see."

"I should say. Where's Mandy?'

"Extended her trip. Just can't keep her from finding things to do with her Grammie in Branson."

"Well, that's good news of its own," she said with a sly smile on her face, which evaporated quickly. "Got some time to talk?"

"Sure."

"Let me come over to you." She dove into the water and swam effortlessly over to where he stood; he felt helpless for a moment since he couldn't escape her. Coming up next to him, she stood on the bottom beside him and gave him a long, hard bear hug in greeting, moving to kiss him hard on the lips and jab her tongue into his mouth. Reluctance was swept away at the warmth of her greeting, and he reciprocated eagerly, his body quivering in anticipation.

"It's good to see you again," he began.

"That's an understatement." Her eyes outshone the sun as they shone on him.. "I can feel how much you're glad to see me, unless you've got a carp in your pocket."

He smiled and chuckled bashfully."You know me so well."

"I know what makes you interested, however, I think we need to talk a while first. All right?"

"All right."

A quick peck on the lips and a shy smile from her. "I'll run over and put some clothes on, then come over to your house."

"Fine. I'll put some coffee on."

"That's a dear." A quick kiss goodbye, and her generous form kicked back to the other side of the cove.

******

After waffles, strawberries and cream, they sat in his Great Room next to each other on the couch beside the fireplace. Amanda's portrait dominated the room above them, with her blonde curls, yellow dress with blue sash, and long, tanned legs and feet. Their fingers interlaced, and they turned to drink in each other's eyes.

She said at last: "It's been a lonely week for you, hasn't it?"

"Oh, I've been busy. Had to be, with my two favorite women gone."

"Well, one is back and the other will be here soon. Tell me a story, Tom."

He yawned out of sight. "Which story do you want? I know all the standard children's stories by heart."

"How about an adult story?"

"The Owl and the Pussycat?"

She settled against his chest. "How about your life and loves before Carefree Cove."

He was unsettled by her directness at first, but she stroked his thigh and he relaxed. "All right. When I was in High School, I was a geek. My school was big into football and basketball; the jocks ruled. I was shy and artistic, so everybody naturally thought I was gay. I wasn't, and the teasing I took distanced me so much from them, I never wanted to see them again after I graduated High School."

"Where you a virgin when you graduated, Tom?" 

"Yes," he said blankly. "I never had a date, never went to the Prom. Didn't really want to, since I hated those bastards so much. Got a scholarship for Art and when I went to College, I never looked back."

"What happened next?"

"Well, art classes showed me where my life would go. I enjoyed everything about art, I would have been happy being a starving artist in a Paris garret in the '20s. Was still shy with girls, even though I did several paintings and drawing with nude models. That loosened me up a bit, but I rarely dated."

"So you graduated college a virgin?"

"Yes. Went to New York for grad school, worked on an education degree, but teaching wasn't for me. When computer graphics came out, I found that pretty easy and so I was snapped up by the Kansas City greeting card company."

"Did you date there?"

"Oh, yes, I lost my cherry eventually. The first time in a back seat on a country road with a girl I only dated three times. We had nothing in common, but I'd never done it before, so I couldn't pass up the chance. I had girlfriends over the years, some of them in art, but nothing lasted. I've got some pictures of one lover who modeled for me extensively in my file."

"Bring them out, Tom, bring them out," Michelle pleaded. 

"All right." He went to his filing cabinet in his darkroom and brought three files out. "This is Jennifer, my first regular girl. We didn't live together, but we spent a lot of time. As you can see, she was dark haired, tall, long limbed, thin butt and very small pert breasts."

"How could you love a tiny girl like that?" 

"She was a nymphomanic," Tom answered. "There was nothing she wouldn't do or try. I could give her orgasms by just sucking her tiny tits. And her favorite thing was fellatio."

"Any boy's dream," she murmured.

"She got tired of me, and moved on. Then came Shirley, an older woman. I've only got a couple pictures of her." Shirley was a tall, statuesque redhead with noble breasts and large hips. "A woman of class and taste. Twelve years older than I, but a wildcat in bed. I did a lot of paintings of her, clothed and unclothed."

"Did you keep any?"

"No," he whispered. "I had competition for her, and I lost. She ended up with an older man she married; they were together a few years before splitting up. I don't know where she is now. Sold all the paintings I did of her. Burned the drawings."

"Oh," she said softly. Tom held her and wondered what was going through her mind: was she thinking about Mutt Hayes? There was a long pause as he gave her a chance to start on her love life, but after a decent interval, he got up and went over to an antique writing desk by the sliding door..

He brought out a glamor shot of a brown headed woman of brown hair and ample breasts, larger than Maria's. "This is Kay. She was a nurse I met at a reception. She worked for the company in employee benefits."

"You benefitted from her a lot?" Michelle teased. "She looks rather--chubby."

Tom chuckled. "Yeah, you could say that. She threw herself at me. I went along with her, and she kept pressing. My God, she went along with almost anything I wanted to do, loved to have fun and push boundaries. But she loved me more than I cared about her. I never respected her as much as she deserved, and I didn't care about keeping her. Eventually she found someone else."

"What then, Tom?" 

"I came to Carefree Cove. The first few years, I flirted at the Q and A, but kept myself at a distance. Didn't really have much in common with the women around here. I guess over the years I should have sought somebody to live with me and be my love, but I was always preoccupied with something else. A couple of short term flings, lost weekends. 

"Then came Renee, the girl I played Pygmalion with. I thought I could be everything for her: lover, teacher, father, friend.We had a baby together, but that was the only good thing."from that relationship.

"I would disagree with that. You did some wonderful work with her as your model."

"Maybe, but the cost wasn't worth it. She was a kid and I never let her be one. At first, I was her liberator, but at the end I was her jailer and she ran from me."

Her hand covered his. "And now?"

He smiled at her. "We're here now."

She gave a long and questioning look before she looked away from the face that was lined with sorrow. "I'm sorry you were burned so badly, Tom." She said deliberately. 

There was a long silence between them as the tears dried on his face. Michelle looked at his eyes deeply, and after a long of thought, shrugged in acceptance. "I guess I need to tell you where I've been," she whispered.

"Only if you want to."

"I went to St. Louis to meet my daughter. We parted on bad terms in Maryland, and I wanted to see what I could do to make it better. We were always been close, at least, 'til she got her attitude when her tits popped out. Jenny tried to talk me into coming home."

"Really?"

"Told me how I was bringing shame on the family, how her brothers were going nuts without me, how her father was screaming at the walls demanding to know where I was. Said I was letting them down." Tears began to flow from her eyes.

"That doesn't make sense."

"No, it doesn't. First Jenny screams that I'm useless, then she needs me. She doesn't understand what I was going through. She kept asking me to go with her to another place; I'm sure they had an intervention set up."

"Did you go?"

"Hell, no. They broke my heart time and time again, especially my asshole husband; I can't go back, ever. It was too horrible, it was a prison for me, and I had to get away. Life is better now. I love it here, I love my job. It's not perfect, but between the divorce settlement and what I'm able to make, I'll be all right."




Carefree Cove Ch. 07



He sat staring at her for several long moments. "I'm glad you came back." The air conditioning switched on again, and a bird sang outside. "Will you keep in touch with your daughter?"

"Oh yes. By e-mail. I've forbidden her to come here, she doesn't even know exactly where I'm living, just somewhere in southern Missouri." She looked out the window for a few moments, and sighed. "After a couple of years, I'll let her visit me here, maybe. When some water's gone under the bridge."

"Good for you." They sat in silence for several moments. "Let me show you what I've been up to."

Tom unrolled the huge canvases that were his playground; he made a mental note to add some swirls and spots to counterpoint the work already done. Then he showed her his finished realist portrait of her as Mother Nature, standing before a waterfall with a garland of flowers in her hair, holding a single flower in front of her sex, her gleaming smile providing contrast to the shade- muted natural light.

"This one is done, " he said quietly.. "Approve of this subject?"

"I think this one is all right." Turning, she gave him a peck on the cheek. "You've have been working hard the past couple of days. Explains the sleep you haven't had." He slipped his hand around her.

"Right," she sneered, and licked his ear. His breath grew shorter, and she pressed her body into his side, grinding her crotch into his hip.

"Oh, my God, that's going to rewrite my priorities today," he moaned.

"Good," she said, licking his ear. "You've been working too hard; it's time for some proactive recreation."

He turned to embrace her several long moments, their lips locked. "Did you say it was time for some procreation?"

"Silly," she smiled, and pulled him back close to her.

They went back out to the lounger on the deck. It was still shaded, but wouldn't stay that way for long. She stripped him naked after sitting down, letting his manhood slither over her cheek as she pulled his trunks down. Her tongue quested forward into the nest before her, questing for the downy soft eggs to lick and suck as she stroked his shaft. Trembling, he sighed and moaned, his hand burying itself in her hair.

Standing up, she undid her top and pulled it away to reveal her tear drop, sun kissed breasts. He knelt and pulled her bottoms down, marveling at the shaven pelvis before him, licking the bare skin as she parted her legs for him. His tongue quested deep into the valley before him, looking for the little hilltop within, to coax the water from the well. She shivered as he worked.

He laid her on her back, and slipped himself inside. Sweat began to pour from their bodies as they made love under the trees, the shade pulling slowly away from them, until they were in broad daylight, pumping frantically. She erupted in her climax, drenching the cushion, and held him tightly as the length of the orgasm thrilled her.

When her breathing came back to normal, she pulled away from him, rolled him on his back and began pumping the red rooster with her hand. He rolled on his back, and she went down to begin licked and sucking him until his moment arrived and he poured his liquid love between her eager lips.

After he recovered his sense, they went back inside to cool off and take a quick shower. They refreshed themselves in the cool water of his shower; as he was washing her back, he said: "We'll have to clean that cushion. Don't think it's quite time to teach Amanda about female ejaculation."

She laughed. "All right, it will be here before you know it. Shall we go out for lunch?"

"I think so. I'm getting hungry, and I need more than you to snack on. How about the Q and A Bar and Grill?"

"All right. Right after we towel off."

"Right after we towel off and get dressed."

As they rode into town, Michelle cleared her throat. "I've got another secret," she murmured.

"Yes," he replied.

"I've been going out with another man." Her face was fixed on the scenery outside.

"Yes? Here?" His eyes were fixed on the curving road.

"Yes. He was so kind and courteous, witty and charming. Rich as the Donald, well, rich enough. He took me out a couple of times, treated me like a queen."

A pause. "I see. The appeal is understandable. Do you want a sugar daddy?"

She shook out her hair and let out a profound sigh. "It's tempting."

A moment and passed, and Tom fought the urge to spew forth everything he knew about Mutt Hayes and how he saw them together over the past few days. Gripping the wheel hard, he decided to fight and urge and let her reveal her side in her own time. A right turn, and he murmured: "Is he married?"

"Yes," she whispered. "But he's not happy."

"How many times?"

"It's his third."

"And how can you trust him if you end up with him?" he said blankly.

She shrugged his shoulders. "I thought about that a lot when I was traveling." A leaf brushed against the window. "In the end, I guess not." she said at last. "If he's willing to cheat on her with me, like he cheated with her on his first wife, what guarantee he won't dump me if someone better comes along? What kind of leverage is he going to use to keep me in line? I've gone through that with Donald back in Maryland; I don't want another ride on the Titanic."

He hummed to himself, and signaled a turn. "Are you going to see him again?"

"I don't know. I know I don't love him; that came clear as I was driving back yesterday. Yesterday he took me out on his boat all day, me in my tan bikini, him in his straw hat, polo shirt, Hawaiian shirt, and black socks under his Birkenstocks. A man that much older; what would we talk about after the relationship get routine? I've already had one uncommunicative man; I don't need another. He's smooth, too smooth."

He held her tightly. "Well, I can just take it as it goes."

She leaned over the kissed him on the cheek.

The Q and A Bar and Grill was moderately busy for a Saturday lunch. Chigger Jones was ensconced at the end of the bar, flirting outrageously with Marge Robinson as she tried to serve the other patrons nearby. He waved at the frantically when he saw them to come over. "Hi Tom, hello, young lady. You gotta to hear what's coming over the news right now."

The announcer's voice cut through the hubbub of the bar, which stilled as he made the special announcement: "Last night, the tentacles of a child pornography ring were discovered in southern Missouri in the little town of Seville Hills. Mr. Thaddeus Harcourt 'Mutt' Hayes was arrested at his home after an investigation led authorities to his home computer. At least two young women have made out sworn statements that Mr. Hayes regularly abused them as early as age 14, and others have come forward in the past couple of hours.

"A search of his computer revealed hundreds of files downloaded from a distributor in Denmark. Tracing the connections from there lead authorities to Seville Hills. Mr. Hayes was arrested in the midst of an act of incest with a young female member of his family. He is being held on a quarter of a million dollars bond. . ."

The barman turned the sound down and turned the closed captioning on for those interested in more.

"Ain't that somethin'? Always thought ol' Mutt was up to somethin'" Chigger declaimed. "That picture of Maria, all that big talk, all the ogling the girls at the pool."

"You've hardly turned your head away from the girls at the park since I've known you," Tom observed.

"There's one thing to look and another to do somethin' about it. I'm no saint, but I don't make a big deal of it."

"Is there any word about any other targets?"

"Nope. Guess that won't come out 'till there's more arrests."

"How's Hoot doing?"

"Freddy saw Hoot this mornin'. Said Hoot's doin' real well, should be out in a couple a days. Don't think he'll be up for dominoes this Wednesday, but that tough old coot may fool us."

"I don't think so either. Well, we need to get a bite."

Chigger lifted his eyebrow. "I guess you do, I guess you do. How're you doin', Michelle?"

Michelle gave him a forced smile. "Fine, Chigger, doing fine."

"Good. Don't let this big boy get any big ideas, hear?"

She laughed. "Okay, Chigger. Thanks."

Tom and Michelle got a table in the back, and received menus from Margie, who dutifully recited the specials. Coffee arrived and orders were made. She looked abstracted, he watched her and glanced at the other patrons. "I'm just floored about Mutt's arrest. Did you think he might be involved in something like this?" she said at last.

"Never really suspected it, but it fits. Mutt's always taken advantage of people around here. A guy tried to unseat him at the last election; the man found the title to his lakefront in dispute and had so many legal troubles, he settled the court case and went home. That developer who tried to start a resort at Carefree Cove got short circuited when Mutt found out it was going to be a gay community."

"Men can be so two faced," she said poisonously, her face set. "To think he was fucking young girls, and he wanted me to be with him." She shuddered delicately. "It was a close call: I've just avoided a monster."

"Be careful about convicting someone before they've gone to trial."

"Oh, I know the kind of bastard he is. Promising everything to everybody, throwing money and influence around, threatening where he can't sweet talk. Check please, I just left my husband, thank you. I'm done with two faced bastards."

They went home and separated for a quiet afternoon and evening. Tom developed more prints of his photographs, Michelle bustled around her house, cleaning the residue of three day's absence. Tom managed an uneasy nap that afternoon.

Michelle and Tom met for a salad in the early evening, finding their way upstairs to look at the pregnancy collection.

"I miss being pregnant; I loved it," she said, looking wistfully at the series.

"That's weird, Michelle."

"You have a choice, Thomas: call me Micki or call me Shelley."

He thought for a moment. "Micki. I like Micki. Amanda can call you Shelley."

She kissed him on the cheek, licking his ear. "Only my lovers call me Micki."

"Glad I qualify."

She looked at the last three paintings in the collection. Renee was pensive for every sitting, her body looking more and more stiff as it became more gravid. The scene of her with her baby was striking: the infant was peaceful, nursing at her breast, but she held the baby away from her body stiffly, obviously uncomfortable with the burden, her eyebrows tense as she looked at her child. "Some day Amanda's going to realize what this picture means," she said seriously.

"I know, and it makes me uncomfortable. But I want her to come to her conclusions herself. When she asks questions, I'll tell her the truth and let her work out how to deal with it. Right now, she sees herself in her mother, sweet and loving. She doesn't know her mother ran away from her and died far away with another man. When she's ready to ask, I hope I'll be ready to answer."

She caressed him from behind. "Ready for bed?"

"Sure."

*******

"Daddy! Daddy!" The blonde thunderbolt flashed through the Great Room when she spotted her father, leaping into his arms and burying him in dozens of feather kisses in greeting. Michelle slipped back to her house around dawn, so Tom had some time to recover before Amanda got home. "Ya miss me, Daddy?"

He smiled broadly as he held her in the middle of the room. "Absolutely, sweetheart. Did you have a good time?"

"It was the greatest, Daddy. You should have seen the rodeo yesterday."

"In a minute, baby. I need to talk with your Grammie before she goes. Take your bags upstairs and we'll unpack." Amanda ran back to take her little bags upstairs, a one girl stampede on the steps. Tom went out to help Gracie bring the rest of the bags inside.

"How's it going, Gracie?"

Gracie gave him a wan smile. "I survived it, barely."

"Why did you take so long coming home?"

"Had a hard time letting go. We had such a wonderful time, priceless, and I didn't want it to end."

"It's going to take you days to recover."

"Thanks all right. I'm going to by lying around enough from Tuesday on."

"Thanks." It was difficult to persuade Amanda into coming out and saying goodbye, but Tom did it. Amanda only spared a hug and a quick kiss before running back inside. Gracie sighed and got back in her car for the trip back to her trailer park. Tom carried the rest of his daughter's bags back in the house and she spent most of the afternoon relating her adventures in Branson.

To be concluded... 



Carefree Cove Ch. 08



Life was normal in Carefree Cove on an August Wednesday. Amanda Albright had just taken a vacation with her great-grandmother Gracie, and on awakening was anxious to go back to the cove from the moment the sun peeked over the horizon. When her father, Thomas Albright, reported that their neighbor Michelle Hawkins was at her dock, Amanda was out of her clothes and running down the path to the water at full tilt. Michelle welcomed her warmly, they frolicked in the water while Tom stood above them, watching. He took a few pictures with her digital camera, but carefully, so none of his daughter's forbidden parts were in the picture. The little girl usually had a short memory, except when she was set on something. He hoped she would forget about having her nude portrait with Michelle, but it was a faint hope.

Tom Albright, an artist who worked for a card company in Kansas City, had a difficult time the past few days. Michelle's arrival at Carefree Cove, Missouri had awakened long dormant feelings in his heart: some bitter memories of his teenage lover and protege, Renee Carter, who left a month after their daughter Amanda's birth, and jealousy as the local land baron, Mutt Hayes, romanced Michelle despite being married. Seldom in his 51 years had he been so conflicted over such a short period of time. The return of his 4 year old daughter had lifted his spirits, and Michelle's rejection of Mutt had lifted them more.

After the girls had their play time, he came down the path and got in the water. His daughter swam over to give him a hug and kiss, then over to her little island to swing on the set. Michelle sidled over to stand beside him on the bottom. "How come Gracie isn't living anywhere better than that trailer park?" she asked quietly.

"Gracie's lived in that trailer park for years, and she knows all her neighbors. They've stayed by her through thick and thin, and she doesn't want to leave her home. As long as she can manage it, I'll see that she can stay there."

"Aren't you worried about Mandy spending time there?"

"Amanda's fine there. I've talked to the neighbors: they look after each other."

"But the poverty. . ."

"Is no shame as far as I'm concerned. I don't want my daughter to grow up a snob. Gracie's place is clean and neat, her mother's mementos are there, and Gracie's the only other family she's got. Amanda needs to know what life is like away from the cove. Needs to know everybody doesn't have life easy, and needs to experience her great-grandmother as she is.."

The little girl was swinging naked on her swinging set, flying toward the Lake and the morning sun, singing an improvised song. Michelle took Tom's hand underwater and they watched her.

The three lunched together, and Michelle went back home afterward. Amanda took a bath after his morning in the lake, and was still excited about returning home.

"Daddy, do you like my friend Shelley?"

"Yes, punkin'. I do."

"Did you kiss her while I was gone?"

"No, sweetheart. I only have kisses for you."

"That's nice, Daddy, but you need a girlfriend. Grammie says that a lot."

"Well, it's OK Grammie says that, but I'll be the judge. Do you know your uncle Hoot is sick?"

"No, Daddy. Is he in the hospital?"

"Yes, he's up at Fairhaven."

"We'll have to go see him, and I'll make a picture for him."

"I'm sure he'd appreciate that. But I heard he may be coming home soon. Let's wait until he gets back."

"Okay, Daddy. Daddy?"

"Yes."

"I love you, Daddy."

Amanda settled down for her nap, and Tom also dozed through the heat of the afternoon. As he came back to consciousness, he had an idea that would make get his daughter's mind off her idea to pose for a picture with Michelle. It was simple, fun and it would work. He wondered about Mutt Hayes and what he was up to. Ashley and Maria were obviously happy when the sirens went by: what did they know? It didn't matter. His rival for Michelle was gone.

*******

Sunday afternoon in August was a lazy time. Resting comfortably on his couch after church, and Amanda safely napping upstairs, he flicked his remote to life, and searched for a baseball game, but none were to be found. Cursing, he went down and looked at his portrait of Michelle. She stood in front of a waterfall with a white flower in her hair, buxom and unclad, standing in knee deep water. He regarded it as a lover, a slight contented smile on his face. 

The temperatures hovered in the mid 90s in the afternoon, the humidity was in the 70s, and evening found some relief. The teenagers of the Seville Hills, the nearest sizable town, sought refreshment at the local pool, while the unofficial elders lingered in the shade with their memories and their games. Tom and Amanda went to join the usual crew of grizzled old men in the seventies as the game in the shelter house began. A group of young boys in t-shirts and shorts hovered across the parking lot, smoking cigarettes and talking as they snuck peeks at the girls they longed for cavorting in the water.

"Look who the cat dragged in," Chigger Jones exclaimed as Tabitha Smoots and Todd Hayes brought Hoot Pidgeon to the Shelter House. The young people supported him as he walked carefully. 

"Already tired of laying around," Hoot's voice rasped harshly. "24 hours in my bedroom bein' waited on hand and foot was too much already. I could hear the grass growing. Got Irma to let the kids take me out."

"And made us promise to look after you, Grandpa," Tabitha noted. Todd shook his head in agreement.

"Bull--ah--nonsense, Tabby. You're going to leave me here with my friends and have fun until the sun goes down."

Tabitha gave Todd a look, and he ran back to the car to retrieve a padded folding chair, which he then set up for the old man. They installed him in his usual place, facing away from the pool and toward the domino game.

"You all right for now, Grandpa? Todd's gonna bring over your cooler, and we're going to be right over there at the pool."

"I'll be fine, Tabby. You kids have a good time and don't worry about me."

She looked around at the other men at the table. "If he has problems, you wave at us and we'll come right over."

"Yes, Tabby," Freddy Kleinschmidt said. "Petey, Chigger and me've had the same operation. We know what it's like. Don't worry."

Tabby put her hands on her hips defiantly for a moment, as Todd did his last errand. She was wearing a plum colored bikini under an open oversized light yellow man's shirt. Turning, she grasped Todd's hand and led him to the pool. He was wearing a straw hat and blue trunks. After a few steps, they broke into a run, laughing as they covered the distance over the green grass.

Hoot looked over his shoulder, then reached into his inside jacked pocket to pull out his rear view mirror. Petey clapped his hands: "Good to see some thing's haven't changed."

"I have to keep an eye on those kids," Hoot groused. "They've been getting extremely too fond of each other lately."

"Yeah, Hoot," Freddy interjected. "What d'ya think of Tabby going out with Mutt's grandson."

"Oh, the boy's all right," Hoot admitted. "Must take after the other side of his family. Hates the old man with a passion. Wants to go to college and be a social worker."

"Let's play dominoes," Tom said, shuffling the tiles in front of him, with a glance toward to pool to find his daughter. 

Another summer evening at the Overlook Park Pool. The air was full of splashing, shouting, and sounds of water play. The men looked at the girls from time to time: Tammy Kleinschmidt was wearing a one piece light green suit that turned transparent when wet. Monica Hayes was strangely absent; Michelle heard that she was the one caught having sex with her grandfather when the police arrived. Michelle and Amanda played by themselves over to the side; the men reveled in the lack of requests for a certain musical number from the little girl.

"What's happened to Mutt?' Chigger asked. "He hasn't been in the news since Sunday."

Petey grinned broadly. "Gentlemen, I don't think we have to worry about our friend Mutt Hayes being in the news around here ever again."

"Really? Hoot asked. "I thought that old bastard was bulletproof."

"Not with what they've uncovered. The connection with the computer sites overseas busted him beyond redemption. Five local girls have signed complaints that he molested them. He was looking at serious jail time."

"Was?"

"Our buddy has taken it on the lam. Got an e-mail and picture from him today. Crossed the border into Mexico and he's looking for passage to Morocco. Says he's got enough cash in off shore banks to live on for three lifetimes, and we kin go fuck ourselves." With that he showed them a print of Mutt Hayes, wearing a sombrero and standing in front of a Mexican bar flying a flock of birds.

Hoot smiled with some satisfaction. "I wish we could tar and feather the bastard, but this will do, this definitely will do. He'll never be able to come back until he's ten toes up."

"Amen," Freddy intoned.

"Ashley wanted him to room with a guy called Bubba for the rest of his life," Petey contributed. "She wanted him to get buttfucked as regularly like she did." They all laughed.

"I guess Mutt's Art collection's going up for sale." Tom pondered.

"Oh, no, that's gone, vanished," Petey interjected. "Mutt sent his wife off to visit her mother last Thursday, and since the paintings weren't evidence, they were gone Monday morning. He must have had a crew come in and get them boxed and shipped before anybody knew what was goin' on. Along with a ton of other stuff."

Tom noticed Amanda running across the grass toward him, barefoot in her blue swimsuit, hair plastered to her head. She barreled over to Tom and gave him a big hug from behind. Her father objected: "Honey, you're all wet. What do you want? Say hello to everybody."

Solemnly, she looked at the other men. "Hello Uncle Freddy. Hello Uncle Petey. Hello Uncle Chigger. Hello, Uncle Hoot, how are you feeling?. "

"Hi, Mandy," came the staggered replies.

"Fine, Mandy," Hoot warbled. "All the better for seeing you."

She danced on her feet. "Daddy, Shelley says she'll teach me how to go off the low board. Can I, please, Daddy, can I, can I?"

He looked at the pleading blue eyes for several minutes, but they were implacable. After a few moments, he put his reluctance aside. "You know this is something you can only do here. No diving at home."

"I understand, Daddy."

"Do you really? If you promise me that you'll never try this at home. . ."

"Yes, yes, yes, yes."

"Then I'll let Shelley teach you how to go off the low board."

"Yippee!"

"Promise me now, with all these witnesses."

She stood up straight, crossed her heart, and looked her father directly in the eyes. "I promise that I will never dive at home, for the rest of my life. So help me, God."

"All right." The blonde comet shrieking at the top of her lungs flew back across the grass in unconstrained joy.

The old men laughed. "Tom, this is only the start," Petey chortled. "The demands keep comin' and never stop."

"Yeah, Tom," Hoot giggled. "And soon, the boys're gonna be seeing how well she fills out a bikini."

"Before ya know it," Chigger added.

"Not they won't, Tom said solemnly. "I have a plan."

"Yes, yes? Let's hear it," Hoot smiled.

"I'm going to home school her until she's 12. By then, she'll know more than any ordinary college graduate."

Freddy snorted. "And then?" he added.

"I'm going to lock her up in her closet until she's 18."

A chorus of snorts and guffaws greeted that remark. "You think that's going to keep her safe from the world?" Freddy inquired.

Tom shook his head. "It's going to keep the world safe from her." The men almost fell off their benches.

Hoot sniggered for several moments, holding his chest. "O stop, Tom, I'm not ready for this."

Later, as they were riding home, Amanda was still electrified from her diving lesson. "I did good, didn't I, Shelley?"

"Yes, Mandy," Michelle replied. "You did splendidly."

"What do you think, Daddy?"

"Honey, you were the best."

"When we get home, can you paint my picture?"

"Sure, baby."

"With Shelley?"

"Only if she wants to stay."

"Naked?"

There was a rather long pause. "Not tonight, baby, I'm tired."

Michelle was let off at her house, and by the time Tom got to the door, the little blonde bombshell was in his arms, exhausted. He put her to bed in her room, accepting a muzzy good night hug and kiss before he turned out the lights, then went down to find his answering machine flashing. The return number was a friend of his in New York, who he'd sent samples of the past few days work.

"Hello?" came an irritated, aristocratic voice at the other end. "Make this good, or I'll draw and quarter you and feed you to the wolves."

"Alastair, this is Thomas Albright. You called me."

"Oh, yes, Thomas," said the voice, shifting gears quickly enough to make Tom's head spin. "Thank you for calling me back so soon," he oozed. "Out with a lovely lady, tonight, mais non?"

"Two of them, one a four year old."

"Quelle horreur! You have my sympathy. I got your e-mails and I'm just beside myself with joy, my dear boy. This is your best work yet. You must box those big pieces up and get them on the next plane."

Tom stood speechless for a moment. "I'm flabbergasted."

"Well, I am too, mon cher. I've been waiting for you to break out for years and do something a little more adventurous. Your compositions are fantastic. Get them here, get them here!"

"All right, Alastair, you'll have them by the weekend. Thanks for the feedback; this is more than I could hope for."

"I'll be hovering at my door waiting for them. Ta, ta, Thomas!"

"Good night, Alastair."

******

"Wake up, daddy. Wake up." Tom awakened in full daylight with Amanda sitting next to him on the bed, prodding his chest. "Did you stay up past your bedtime last night?" She had dressed herself in an orange top and white shorts, making him proud that he could subtract "clothier" from the Father job description. "Daddy, what you wanna do today?"

He stirred and looked at the clock. 8:00AM was the readout. She must have been up for a while and let him sleep. "Daddy had to work late last night, and I have to work all day today," he said, sitting up. "Let me make a call or two, and we'll see what we can set up."

"I can play by myself for a while, Daddy," she said nobly.

He pulled her forehead next to his and grimaced. She grimaced back, then sat back on her heels. "Maybe Shelley isn't busy this morning," she suggested.

"I'll give her a call. And you know what?"

"What?"

"I think I can use your help painting tomorrow."

Her eyes lit up, her light eyebrows rising high and her face bursting with a smile. "I can really help you paint tomorrow, Daddy?"

"Yes, punkin. And your friend Shelley if she's free."

"Yippee."

*******

The rest of that day and the next, Tom prepared his shipment with care and personally drove it to Springfield, after dropping Amanda by Michelle's house. The night they went to a movie.

Friday morning, Tom watched Michelle knock on the glass door of his studio wearing an oversized white blouse over a black bra and shorts with sandals. He beckoned her in, since he was busy applying red paint to his daughter's body. Her little feet were kicking in excitement as he finished putting the paint on her back; she was a solid red from her neck down, with a white bathing cap to cover her hair. "Hi, Shelley," she chirped, "Daddy's gonna use me as a paintbrush today. Maybe if you're nice, he'll let you play, too."

"Hi, Micki," Tom said. "Be right with you. Let me finish up Amanda's back and let her loose." A light blue colored canvas rested on the floor beneath her stool, stretching ten feet by three. Finishing, he told his daughter: "I want you to put your feet on the canvas first."

"Right here, Daddy?"

"Yes, sweetheart right there. After you get the paint off your feet, I want you to lay down on your front and wiggle a little, then crawl forward. When I tell you, flip over and skootch on your butt until your head reaches the top of the canvas. Understood?"

"Yes, Daddy." She hopped down, wiggling her feet into the canvas to get all the paint off. "That what you want?"

"Yes, baby. Now, kneel down and stretch out. Yes, just like that, use your hands and move them as you have to. Good, now slither like a snake." She giggled as she crawled forward. "Now flip over, you've got the paint off your front. That's right, rub it around, get the paint off of your body. Now you're at the top. Give me your hands." He lifted her off the canvas easily and brought her up to his arms. "What do you think of this, Amanda?"

She looked at the new painting seriously. "It needs something else," was the somber analysis.

"Quite right, baby. How about yellow?"

"That would be excellent."

"Let's get the rest of the red off first." He took her outside and hosed her off, her nut brown body re-emerging from the red residue. Taking a huge towel, he wrapped he in it and let her back in the house, where she hopped up on the stool.

"What's going on Tom?" Michelle asked.

"A new technique I tried with Ashley last week. Got a call from Alastair Quigley last night. Pompous as--fool, but an eye for art, especially abstract art. Said the big canvas I did was marvelous and I should ship it and any others I have away immediately. That's what I was doing yesterday, getting it ready to ship as well as a lot of prints from the photographs."

"So you think I'll go for the same thing?"

"Oh yes, Shelley," Amanda interrupted. "It's so much fun. I love to have paint all over my body; it's so much fun. It isn't work at all."

"If you don't want to try it, that's all right. I won't like you any less if you don't want to do it. But I've got a new lease on life and I want to get a lot done while the inspiration lasts."

"Maybe a little bit," she said cautiously.

"All right. Let me get Amanda ready and then I'll think of something to do with you."

She gave him a quizzical look Amanda couldn't see. The little girl sat still while her father covered her body in yellow paint. Tom turned the canvas around to face the other direction. "Okay, Amanda, do the same thing you just did, only a little to the left."

"Right, Daddy," she answered brightly, before laughing at the dichotomy. Following her father's instructions, she left a similar trail of paint on the canvas going the other direction. Michelle watched it all with amusement, taking Amanda out to hose her off when it was over. 

"Do you want me to put my body on your painting, Mandy?" she asked the little girl.

"Yes, Shelley. You'll have so much fun."

They came back, and Tom dismissed his daughter, who put on a robe and ran upstairs to play. "I'm trying to teach her a little modesty. Now, about you. I don't think I want the whole package, not for this painting. Green, no, I think not. Scarlet, deep scarlet. No. Gold, with silver accessory. The other way around? Yes, that's it. Take off you top."

Awkwardly, she removed her halter top and her tear drop breasts came into view. He ran his hands over them, gently caressing her with his palms. Taking a brush, he began to coat her nipples in gold paint.

"That tickles."

"Fringe benefit. Amanda got tickled as well."

"What are you going to do with me?"

"After I get these lusciously, perfect tits loaded with paint, I'm going have you lie on the canvas, giving me a pair of fuzzy silver orbs with gold centers. Maybe repeat the process, maybe a couple of times."

He finished with the brush; turning, he loaded his hands with silver paint and began covering the rest of her mammaries with his palms. "I think you can repeat this as much as you want," she cooed. "It feels funny, but I like it."




Carefree Cove Ch. 08



"Some women in hot climate, like New Orleans, will get their entire torso painting and walk around all day wearing nothing but paint from the waist up."

"We'll have to try that sometime."

"Ready for the first application?" She nodded. "All right, kneel on the floor just there beside the canvas. Forty five degree angle, no shift just a little toward horizontal. Yes, that looks good. All right. I want your right nipple exactly here," he said pointing at the center of the canvas. "Set it down. Great, you're a natural. Full down, don't be afraid. Now up. See what you've done."

As Tom predicted, two huge silver orbs adorned the canvas with gold centers. "Ready to reload?"

"Yes, sugar."

As they finished, Amanda came back down the stairs to see Michelle put her breasts on the canvas. She was fascinated by the contribution her friend made. "That's nice, Shelley. Daddy, I'd like to paint like that."

"Not yet, baby. I think we have to wait a few years." Michelle laughed as Amanda crossed her arms and pouted. "I have a finishing touch, that only you can do, baby."

Brightening, she asked: "What, Daddy?"

"I think a trail of little black footprints would look good running up the painting. Going from side to side? Wanna try it?"

"Sure, Daddy. How're you gonna do it?"

"I'm going to paint the bottoms of your feet black and hold you while you walk on the canvas."

She hopped up on the stool and held her legs straight out.

Michelle and Amanda had a great time that morning working on a couple of smaller canvases Tom set up the night before. Once, Tom had to put Amanda in time out so she could calm down from near-hyperventilation. At 11:00AM, he called a halt and sent the women upstairs to take a bubble bath and get completely clean.

After lunch, Tom let Amanda play outside by herself in her blue top and shorts. When she was safely out of sight, he leaned over and gave Michelle a long, lasting kiss. Breaking, she put her hand beside his face. "I think you're wonderful, Tom."

"Thanks, Micki."

"I had so much fun this morning."

He kissed her again. "Are you busy this afternoon?"

"Why, no. This is the first afternoon since I got back that I'm free."

"How would you feel about putting on some body paint with your little friend and playing savages in the woods?"

"As long as I can play savages with her daddy upstairs first. I'm so horny after this morning."

He took a deep breath. "I am, too. When you were pressed flat against the canvas, I wanted to fuck you hard right then and there."

She shut her eyes and hummed. "When does Amanda take her nap?" she said as she put her hand on his thigh.

"Not soon enough." They shut their eyes and gave each other a long, breathless kiss.