by Emily Sharpe
Eric nodded, not really paying attention. Mentally, he was measuring the area and writing another materials list. He'd need more scaffolding than he'd anticipated, in order to reach the top section and more drop cloths and padding to protect the parquet. Doris Stein had wanted imported fieldstone to remind her of her childhood summers in Italy, but it would have been better to postpone the flooring until after it was laid. No matter, it would just be more expense. And it was evident that expense was not a factor for the Steins in any way.
Everywhere Eric looked, he saw only the finest quality fixtures and furnishings. The home was modern, a 'smart home', with advanced technology discreetly in place. Despite mention of servants, Eric had met the friendly chauffeur, who had picked him up in Orlando, and the diminutive cook, who had brought out a tray of snacks upon his arrival. Both had been personable, Asian of some variety, but not overly curious about him. Apparently, they were the resident staff, with day workers for the elaborate landscaping, pool maintenance, and other jobs.
"You have carte blanche while you're here, Eric," Ari was saying. "Anything you need to make your stay more comfortable. The passwords to all the 'gadgets', as Doris calls them, are on a list in your room, plus other materials that will better explain our home and atmosphere. You have a suite, with a private living area and bathroom I think your wife will enjoy during her visit. I'm not going to check on you much, trusting you to know what you're doing and how long it will take. Feel free to enjoy the pool, the gym, the beach, the Jacuzzi, the kitchen—any door that isn't locked is yours to explore, as long as you get the fireplace done by December thirtieth, so Doris can have her grand opening party for New Year's. That's all she's talked about for months now." He chuckled.
"Oh, and by the way," he continued, "we're flying to Italy for Christmas, so you and your wife will have the place virtually to yourselves. We operate with a skeleton staff only, but I give them several weeks off for the holidays. Usually, I have someone come in for security, but I'm sure you and your wife will be enough to ward off any interlopers." He laughed. "Seriously, unless you know we're here, you'd never know from the road, would you?"
Eric had to agree. When the Town Car had pulled in, it had felt like they were headed into a dense pine forest. Only when they stopped so that the chauffeur could enter the gate code, did it appear they were, in fact, approaching civilization. Donna's going to love this place. And with utter privacy, I'll tell her to bring some "toys" for sure. He'd just arrived in Florida, and already, he could hardly wait for her to come. His cheeks reddened. Come indeed.
Eric worked every day from six until six, pausing only when Asahi, the cook, brought him refreshments. She reminded him of a tiny doll—a rather ordinary doll—but her culinary skills were a wonder, based on the foods she delivered several times a day. She was comfortable enough around him now that she would sit and chat a bit as he ate at the bar or in the conversation pit, away from his tools and materials. He was careful to protect all the surfaces from his dust.
It had only taken a few days of solitude for Eric to engage Asahi in conversation. The Steins rarely made an appearance, and other than those precious FaceTime calls each night with Donna, Eric was getting lonely.
"What does your name mean?" he asked one afternoon as he set his bowl of miso soup down on the bar.
Asahi lowered her head shyly. "It is Japanese, for morning sunshine."
Eric smiled. "That's lovely. And appropriate, Asahi. You bring sunshine every time you bring me food. This place is awfully quiet."
"You should play music, Eric-san," she said with a little bow. "Just tell the house."
"Tell the house?"
Asahi giggled, covering her mouth. "I put instructions in your room. Set it up to obey your voice, and then wherever you are, you tell the house what you want to hear. Like this." Asahi looked up and spoke more loudly. "I want to hear J-pop," she announced to the air.
Instantly, guitar music and Japanese lyrics wafted through the big room from several directions. "My favorite group," she said.
I'll need to set it up for myself, definitely, thought Eric. Music would help pass the time, but he decided that after a few hours of J-pop, he'd be hungering for something in English. "Nice. Thanks, I'll work on it. So tell me about this Thanksgiving party," Eric said, standing. He brushed his hands off before he gloved up again for work.
Asahi giggled again, her eyes wide. "Ooh. Are you going to the party, Eric-san? I make all of the food but will have the night off."
Eric was offended on her behalf. He turned to her with a frown. "They don't let you go, after you did all the work? That's not right."
Asahi shook her head, her eyes bright. "Oh no, Eric-san. I do not want to go to the party. Pochapocha." She laughed. "But you—you would be fine, Eric-san."
"Pochapocha?"
Asahi laughed as she left him with a wave. "Pochapocha, pochapocha."
I'll have to google that. Eric took a deep breath. Four more hours of work. Steam shower in the gym. The dinner Asahi will have left in my room, and then Donna. She had a way of making their FaceTime calls quite the adventure.
7
An Early Celebration
"Everything was delicious," Worth commented as the family festivities wound down at the Hendersons'. Because Worth's mother was popping in for a quick visit on Thursday, everyone had agreed to move their celebration to Wednesday instead. No one at the magazine had minded getting an extra day off, and the schools at which Keith and Jon taught had taken the entire week for Thanksgiving break. Layla had given her notice when she started experiencing discomfort, but Kari still worked as a paralegal.
Layla groaned, rubbing her belly. Now in the second trimester of her pregnancy, she could legitimately wear maternity clothes. Before, she'd gotten away with fuller lines and larger sizes, but there was no mistaking the baby bump at this point. "I know I'm eating for two, but today, I think I must've eaten for four or five."
Keith put his arm around her. "This is no time to diet, sweetheart." He kissed the top of her head.
Jessica nodded. "Enjoy it while you can. Mom keeps telling me that at a certain age, we'll all wish we had exercised more."
Across the long table, Carol laughed. "Well, it's true." She stood to fetch a pitcher of iced tea for refills, her hands on her hips. "I have to really work to keep this figure."
Chet beamed proudly. "I heartily approve."
It was a full house—Chet and Carol, Jessica and Worth, Chet's daughter Kari and her husband Jon, Chet's son Keith and his wife Layla, and Donna. And it also was, Donna thought, the happiest Thanksgiving she'd had in many years, even with Eric out of state. "Thank you again for having me," she said. "I really appreciate it."
"But of course!" Chet boomed. "What do you hear from the stonemason?"
Donna smiled, remembering last night's FaceTime. She'd dressed up as a sexy police officer for him, tantalizing him by holding her phone at various angles so he could see every inch of skin that showed through the outfit. Thank heaven for overnight delivery. She'd get an idea at work, place the order, and look forward to surprising Eric soon.
"He's all settled in at this grand estate right on the ocean," she said. "It sounds heavenly. I can't wait to visit next month."
When Worth put on his editor "hat" to ask if she'd put in the paperwork for the time off, Jessica punched him lightly. "What? I like to keep up with things," he said with a laugh.
"Yes, boss," Donna said with a giggle. "I submitted the paperwork to Skip, boss, just like you said, boss."
Worth threw up his hands in mock defeat. "Okay, okay. This is a holiday. Sorry." Since he and Jessica had gotten married, her role at the magazine had increased. She still wrote features and a monthly 'back page' column, but he was steadily teaching her the business side of things. Soon, perhaps Skip would be assistant to both of them.
Layla interrupted with a little groan. "What is it, hon?" Keith asked.
"Oh, nothing. Just indigestion from all that grea
t food, I'm sure," she said, rising from her seat. "I just need to go to the—" Her eyes widened in fear. "No! It's too soon!"
The unmistakable sound of water dripping onto the tile floor brought gasps from everyone else. Carol had just come in. "Call 9-1-1. Layla, lie down stat."
Donna was surprised by the authority in Carol's voice, then she remembered that she had been a nurse before Jessica was born, and again after Jessica started school. That's how she'd met Jessica's father, in fact. Today, having a nurse around was fortuitous. Everyone's face was drawn with concern.
"Jess," Donna said quietly as they tensely waited for the ambulance to arrive, "I'll clean up here, so you can all go to the hospital, and lock up before I leave."
Jessica nodded. "Thanks," she said, squeezing her friend's hand. "I don't know what she'd do if …" Her voice trailed off.
Donna laid her head on Jessica's shoulder. Everything and everyone she could think of at the moment paled in comparison. Deadlines, that jerk at work, the Peeping Tom reports, Eric, the club. Nothing mattered right now but Layla and the baby.
Inspired by those events, Donna had ordered a sexy nurse's outfit. What material there was, was crisp white, edged in red, with red straps crisscrossing her back and sides. White thigh-high stockings were also edged in red lace. Atop her blonde curls, sat a little white nurse's cap with a red cross. "What do you think? Are you in need of some oral medication?" she asked Eric seductively on the video call.
In Florida, Eric rolled his eyes in approval. "Oh my lord, Donna," he said huskily. "You really know how to make it hard on a guy."
"Hard already, big guy?" Donna teased. "I wish I could give you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation."
"I miss you. So. Much." Eric waited while Donna repositioned her phone so that he could see her from the back. She bent over and began pumping her knees, wiggling her tiny butt in the air, looking around to make kiss lips at the screen.
"Do you like this angle, doctor? Or are you my patient? How about you show me what effect I'm having. This video goes both ways, you know."
Normally, Eric would have been embarrassed to show himself. He felt self-conscious about the size of his penis "at rest" so to speak. Fueled by the sight of Donna's costume, however, his manhood was suitably engorged for her inspection. "Hold on." He put down the phone so that he could unzip his jeans and drop them to the floor along with his plaid boxers. A little chagrined, he picked the phone up and held it below his waist.
"Oh, babe, I would love to be holding on to that," Donna said breathlessly. Suddenly, she was stern. "Now I want you to do it. I will too."
"What?" Eric had never been much for self-pleasuring. He knew other guys did it regularly, but he had never felt the need.
Donna brought the phone up to her mouth and licked her lips provocatively. "You don't want me to diagnose blue balls, do you, lover?"
"I've just never… you know, in front of someone."
Donna giggled as she brought the phone down where she was in full view again. "And you think I have, mister? The sight of that… enormous… cock just turned me on so much, I thought maybe we could try. Please?" she pouted before flashing a grin.
Eric agreed. She'd talked him through that first night in the red room. Maybe she'd talk him through this. In Florida, he lay on the plush bed in his suite.
Back home, Donna unsnapped the crotch of her costume and lay down on their bed. "Just watch me for now," she purred. Setting up the phone so that he could see her torso, Donna pulled her breasts from the scraps of material holding them and began to squeeze her nipples, making soft noises of pleasure as she did.
Instinctively, Eric's hands went to his lap. Although he wore gloves while he worked, his hands were dry and scratchy. Reaching for a bottle thoughtfully left for guests on the nightstand, he massaged his hands with the fragrant lotion and tried again. "That's better," he murmured, encircling his member with both thumbs and middle fingers, gripping himself tightly as he moved his hands up and down, his eyes never leaving his wife's image.
Donna walked her hands slowly down her sides, playing with the red ribbons along her ribs and hips, pulling the material up from between her legs to expose the blonde triangle. When she'd asked Eric about getting a Brazilian wax, he had been adamant. "If you look like a little girl down there," he'd told her, pointing to his crotch, "I don't think I'd have the desired response here."
Now Donna moved the phone so that he could see her legs spread wide on the bed. "I wish this was your tongue and not my fingers," she said, "but we'll just have to make do."
As she fingered her labia, played with the curls, and gently stroked her clit, Donna's hips began to rock. In concert with her movements, Eric adjusted the speed of his hands. He closed his eyes and imagined them together. Faster, faster, harder, harder… and there! Hot ejaculate sprayed his chest and he dropped the phone to the side, spent for the moment.
He could hear Donna's moans coming from the phone and picked it up again. In her excitement, she had forgotten the phone altogether, but it had landed where he could see her face, albeit at a strange angle. He watched her face contort in pleasure as she cried out.
Donna's whole body shuddered, and she lay still and quiet, neither knowing nor caring at the moment if he was watching or still connected or anything other than the incredibly empowering feeling that swept through her. I don't need a man for this. Immediately, that thought was followed by but I want one. It was a revelation.
A few seconds passed. Then another few seconds. Making soft noises, Donna picked the phone up again and was pleased to see Eric's face on the screen. Both of them were still breathing a bit more heavily than normal. "That was… good, right?"
Eric smirked a little. "Oh, hell yeah. Spectacular. Babe, you are always teaching me something new."
Donna frowned a little. "Perhaps it's your turn to teach me something new."
When Eric made no reply, she continued, "Just don't think I'm going to go this easy on you when I'm there in person. This was a more-than-decent substitute because of the distance, but—"
"Goes without saying, Donna," Eric whispered. He looked down at his chest. "Whew. I'm a bit of a mess. Hold on while I clean up?"
"That's okay," Donna said as she yawned. "Wait until after the party tomorrow to call. I want to hear all about it."
Eric gave himself the whole day off. He tidied up his work area in case any guests wanted to see his progress, sunned on the beach, and lifted weights in the home gym. He also teased Asahi in the kitchen as she cooked for the party.
"I googled pochapocha," he said, pouring himself a glass of fresh lemonade. She'd made the pitcher with lemons from the estate, sweetening it with local honey. "It means pudgy. I don't get it. One, you're not pudgy, and two, why would it matter if you were?"
Asahi paused as she kneaded the dough for yeast rolls on the butcher-block island. "Thank you, Eric-san. I think I am too pudgy for the Steins' party and besides, I-I am driving to Vero to see a movie with a friend." She smiled mischievously. "I think that you should definitely go, though."
"Friend? Asahi has a boyfriend," he sang until she shook her head.
"Her name is Nancy."
"Nancy, Nancy. So is this party fancy-shmancy? I mostly brought work clothes and swim trunks."
Asahi giggled again as she kneaded the dough. "Party will be very casual. More than you'd think."
What does that even mean? Before he could ask, a familiar face popped up over the saloon door.
"Eric with a C!" Erika-with-a-K cooed. "I didn't know you were coming to the Steins. I could have given you a lift from the airport." Erika pushed the doors open, ignoring Asahi completely as she walked over to Eric. She stood closer than he would have preferred, her hips cocked and the improbable chest jutting forward in invitation.
Eric looked at Asahi for back-up, but her expression clearly communicated that Eric-san was on his own. Perhaps Erika was a regular visitor? "I, um, a ride was already arranged. Maybe if we'd sat together on
the plane, it would have come up in conversation but—"
Erika made a face as she picked up a piece of celery on the butcher-block and took a bite. "Oh, him. I invited him to the party, but we'll see. A bit of a prude, I think. Anyway, I arrived early because I want to get some sun before tonight. It's been so dreadfully cold up north, I am white as a ghost. Don't want to scare anyone off." She laughed.
There seemed to be something going on that Eric couldn't quite put a finger on. Casual party, Asahi's deliberately vague or going on about being pochapocha, Erika's worried about her tan. It didn't add up.
"Would you like to see my progress?" Party forgotten for the moment, Eric wanted to show off his handiwork. Asahi always commented, and the Steins had been in now and then, but things were really shaping up. He had a long way to go, but you could tell now that the fireplace would be magnificent when finished.
"Indeed! When you said you were putting in a fireplace, I was thinking a regular fireplace. If I'd known you were the kind of craftsman up to Ari and Doris's standards, there's no way I would have let that man switch seats with you. You must be something special."
Eric pointed in the general direction of the addition and followed Erika out, but not before he distinctly heard Asahi say quietly, "Careful, Eric-san. Be very careful."
8
Thanksgiving Party
Doris Stein was a vivacious redhead, pleasingly pochapocha in Eric's opinion. She and Ari were both on the short side, but comfortable both financially and relationally. Eric didn't see them often, but they'd made favorable impressions on one another. "I'm delighted you're coming to the party," Doris told him by intercom. "Asahi explained everything? My friend Erika, I believe you already met. Everyone else should be here by six. It's quite a group. And they'll be everywhere—beach, pool, Jacuzzi. Probably not the gym. Living room, all around. I just didn't want you to walk anywhere and be surprised."