The one thing no one needed was Paul Rogers with nothing to do. I finished the last assignment in my book two weeks ago and my agent booked five episodes for me in the future. Most of the shows were in hiatus until the beginning of summer, that was four weeks away and no one was booking anything right now. I could only play so much golf, and I took to taking long car drives just to get out of people’s hair. I even went to visit my father-in-law, but he was not at home. I needed something to keep my hands busy, and rewriting Sara, and my memoir script did not interest me right now. Sara noticed my agitation.
“Paul I can’t have you sitting around here with nothing to do. You will drive me and Paula crazy,” she said after storming into my office on a Thursday morning. The previous day I had wandered between the kitchen and Sara’s office driving folks nuts. She then informed me that she had to visit the ranch to check on a legal matter and would be back tomorrow. At least that is what I thought I heard.
“Are you sure that you are not just getting away from me,” I responded and then wished that I had not said anything.
The look on Sara’s face was something I did not want to see again, I apologized, by practically getting on my knees. “Find something to do before I get back,” she said and then kissed me.
I guess I was out of the doghouse for now. Sara walked out and I saw she and William get in her car and leave. I did have an idea percolating in my mind and I decided to start the process. In the garage I found some left over construction stakes from the pool build. I had enough experience growing up in laying out buildings so, I got a tape measure and started to lay out the foundation for a pool cabana. I had no idea if we could build back here but we needed a place where guests could change and an outdoor kitchen and bar. On the second floor I imagined offices for Sara and me, in case we needed to convert our current offices to bedrooms.
I laid out the proposed size and drove stakes in the corners. I would need to engage our architect, Ms. Bell to fully realize my vision. But step one was getting Sara to sign off on the plan. My maneuvering attracted Paula’s attention and she walked out to the pool deck to see what I was up to. I explained to her what I was doing, and she walked back into the house, without comment.
I finished and made a quick sketch of the lay out and the size, Ms. Bell would need to fully render my idea into a finished building design. I decided to get an appointment with the architect as soon as I could arrange it. Then my phone started playing “Hail to the Chief.” What did Bret want I wondered?
“Yes, Ma’am how much am I in trouble with you,” I said.
“What are you talking about, I was calling to see if you wanted to have dinner with us tonight. I know that Sara is away, and I thought that you would need a sympathetic shoulder,” said Bret.
My antenna started to grow remembering the last time I was flying solo and Bret and George invited me to dinner. That sent me on an almost two-week vacation.
“I am intrigued, what did my wife put you up to, how is the evening going to end?” I asked.
“Being a little defensive, aren’t we? There are no plans other than to pick your brain, maybe get you a little tipsy. I need you to sign off on an idea I have,” said Bret.
After she assured me that there was no nefarious plan afoot, we agreed to have them come over at about six thirty. I almost suggested that we get delivery and eat over here, but she said that she would be picking up the tab. I was not one to turn down a free meal, especially if I was not working. After hanging up with Bret I called Ms. Bell’s office and explained that I wanted a consultation on a project I had in mind. I was lucky and she had time available tomorrow, so we agreed to meet the next day.
What I really wanted to do was to lay next to my wife smell her perfume and admire her breasts and pussy. Mix a martini for her and tell her how much I love her. Then get between her legs and either give her the best blow job I could or make love to her, but that will have to wait until tomorrow. I walked into the house and asked Paula if she knew the time that Sara would be back.
“No sir, I would have thought that she would have told you.”
“Let’s just say that when she told me she was going to the ranch, we had a small argument and all I got was she would be back tomorrow,” I said.
“I thought I felt a north wind blow by when she walked out this morning, now I understand why,” said Mrs. Kelly.
I informed Paula that Bret and George were taking me to dinner and that I should return this evening. “Bret swore that there were no plans other than dinner,” I said.
The house’s land line started to ring “Rogers-Solsbery household Paula Kelly speaking.” There was a pause while Paula listened to the caller.
“Ms. Solsbery is not here right now, … I am not at liberty to say where she is or when she will return, I will gladly take a message and have her return the call,” Paula wrote down bahis firmaları the person’s name and phone number and said that she would bring it to Ms. Solsbery’s attention.
When she put the phone down, I asked who called? She said that it was a producer for a morning news program and wanted to get an interview with Sara concerning the Winter’s case. “It is the third time he’s called today.”
“They’re trained to be annoying he must have called the law office and somehow got the land line number from them and now you are catching the traffic.”
I began to wonder if someone at the three-letter government agency let it slip about Sara’s involvement in the investigation. The news show couldn’t get members of the agency to sit for an interview, but they could try to interview witnesses. Even though Sara’s involvement was minor any information about the investigation would be news.
I picked up my phone and touched Sara’s entry and waited to connect.
“Darling I am kind of busy.”
“Paula has been getting calls from a morning show producer have you been ducking them?” I asked.
“The last thing I need is to go on TV, but no I have not been ducking anyone. Did you find something to do?” asked Sara.
“I am meeting with Ms. Bell tomorrow about a project, and Bret and George are taking me out to dinner. She said that she has a project she wants to discuss with me. Unless there is some other reason, she would want to take me out and get me drunk,” I replied.
“Stay away from that woman. That is what got you sick a year and a half ago,” said Sara.
“I already accepted, I also wanted to tell you that I love you and miss you.”
Sara and I signed off after she told me that she would be back late.
I retired to my office and opened the memoir script file and paged through it not really seeing anything that needed changing. I knew that it needed to be rewritten but I was not the person to do that job. I wondered what kind of a project Bret had up her sleeve. I would soon learn. I was still thinking that Bret and Sara had something cooking but I guess I would see what later today. My phone rang and it was Paula telling me that she was leaving and would be back in the morning. I looked at the clock and noticed that it was close to five. So, I decided to have a martini, since Bret and George were providing transport.
I was finishing my second cocktail when I saw Bret’s SUV pull into the driveway. Both she and George got out of the car. I met them at the back door inviting them in.
“You can build us one of your famous martinis that Sara brags about,” said Bret as she stormed into the house like she owned the place.
“Sara told me to be wary about you she blamed you for the flu I had a year and a half ago.”
“It was twelve months ago, and I had nothing to do with that, she is just making up stories,” said Bret.
I handed the cocktails to Bret and George and I poured one for me. Bret and George sat down, again like they owned the place. It looked like we weren’t leaving any time soon. We finished the first round and Bret held up her glass like she wanted a refill.
“What is going on, I have never seen you drink like this?” I asked Bret.
“We are waiting, George said that dinner would be here the at the same time we arrived but that seems not to be the case,” Bret replied.
As if on cue the front door camera popped on and I saw a delivery person at the front door. George got up and answered the door and came back with several bags filled with dinner. He walked into the dining room and started unpacking the bags. Bret and I followed but I veered off to the kitchen and pulled plates and glasses and flatware.
Packed in with the dinner was a pitcher of iced tea. I was glad that Sara was away she hates iced tea and we would have had to listen to her complaints. I had to agree with her after I tasted the watered-down brew. The dinner was good, and it was good to have friends around. We finished with Bret asking, almost demanding another martini. I have known her and George for almost seven years and never seen her drink as much as she had this evening. I wondered what was going on.
I got up and mixed a pitcher of drinks and brought the pitcher and three cocktail glasses into the dining room. While I was away the dishes were stacked and the various clamshells were deposited in the bags, they came in. Laid out on the table was a thick folder. Bret paused and took a sip of her cocktail.
“Ok Paul I had an idea about producing the next “Sex in the City” using your memoir script as the basis. I commissioned Brent Stone to write a pilot using the meeting between you and Sara as the jumping off point. Sara remains an attorney and a member of the aristocracy, but your character is a scriptwriter and sometime private detective,”
“You mean a busy body,” I said.
I then told her that Sara and I needed to see some money before things got really serious. Bret said that she understood and would negotiate with me and Sara later about credit and compensation. I also said kaçak iddaa that I didn’t like my character. But we didn’t talk any further.
Since the window in the dining room was higher than normal, I could not see a car move into the garage. It wasn’t until the door opened and heard a familiar voice that I realized that Sara was home.
Sara stormed into the dining room demanding to know what was going on. I rose and embraced her and kissed her.
“That is fine darling, but what are George and Bret doing here?”
“They brought dinner and we were discussing the next project for Bret’s company,” I replied.
“It is good that you are here because that I will need to get you to sign off on this also,” said Bret.
“I am not signing anything until I get a martini,” said Sara.
I jumped up and grabbed the pitcher and went back to the bar and mixed another set of drinks. In the background I heard Sara saying something about abusing our liquor supply and Bret working me too hard.
“Sara can you come over here I need to speak to you?”
Sara walked over and took a pose questioning why she was called over.
“Sara, these are our friends, and no one was abusing me or draining our liquor supply. What has you so worked up?”
Sara stood silently trying to form a good argument. But nothing came, the sharp lawyer mind momentarily frozen. She turned around and walked back to the dining room and waited until I returned with her cocktail. I poured drinks for her Bret, George and me.
“First it has been a long day and I did not realize that you would be here. My apologies for my earlier behavior. I said somethings that I now regret, please forgive me.”
“No, darling no one even good friends get away with abusing me. What is going on?” said Bret, to my surprise.
“The family hired a local law firm to defend us in the lawsuit with the former manager of the ranch. He has been charged with fraud, but sued us for unlawfully sacking him, to use a British term. The local firm missed a deadline and the court almost issued a summary judgment against us. I had to plead with the court to let us file the correct paperwork. We are trying to get the action dismissed. I am trying to handle this so father does not have to get involved. It was a stressful day and I unfortunately took my frustrations out on my friends and husband,” said Sara as she slumped into her seat.
“Apologies accepted Sara,” said Bret.
“I didn’t expect you until tomorrow, why the change?” I asked.
“On the phone I told you that I would be back late. You and I spent three days at the ranch three weeks ago and I wanted to get home as soon as I could,” replied Sara.
“I am sorry, but my mind put in tomorrow, darling but I am glad that you are here.”
Sara finished her drink and said that she was heading up to bed. She asked Bret to visit on Saturday to discuss whatever she wanted to discuss with her then. Bret helped me move the dishes to the kitchen and then she and George gathered up her materials and left. I checked the locks and turned the lights off and went upstairs. I had no idea which Sara would be waiting for me, the woman I loved or the pissed off Sara that was on display this evening.
“You sir still need to find something to do besides plying our friends with booze,” said Sara as I walked into the bedroom.
“That is something I want to talk to you about, but I can do it tomorrow. Do you want me to sleep in another room?” I said.
“No, darling, I can be mad at you and still sleep with you, but I am not mad at you just frustrated at the world. Maybe I am the one that needs a trip to the mountains,” said Sara.
Sara closed the distance between us and opened my belt and unbuttoned my pants letting them fall to my ankles. I shed my shoes and let my underwear join my pants. Sara pulled my shirt over my head. I opened Sara’s blouse and unhitched her bra. I worked her slacks off knelt and kissed her pussy. Sara held my head next to her twat and I tongued her vulva. Her hands moved under my arms and brought me level and we kissed.
“Darling, I want a proper fuck, from my husband,” said Sara.
“Countess I can take care of that,” I replied.
Sara kissed me and her hand found my penis. She pushed me on to the bed and we kissed again. When we were settled, she used her hand and massaged my tool bringing on an even harder erection. She continued to manipulate my penis delaying my mounting her.
“Paul are you really mad at me, do you want to make love to me?”
“No, I am not mad. Yes, I want to put my cock where it will do the most good. By the way I love you Sara.”
“Paul what is keeping you?”
I moved over Sara and she guided me into her pussy. I settled down and our mouths met in a kiss. I started to move my cock in and out of her while we kissed. I got a little faster and she put her hand on my flank and asked me to relax. I moved slower and my hand found one of her breasts, and I manipulated her nipple. Several thrusts later and I exploded with my mouth on hers. I continued to kaçak bahis move my cock in and out until I fell out of her pussy.
I thought that we would continue our lovemaking, but Sara surprised me turned over and fell asleep. I spooned Sara with my cock nestled in the crack of her ass. It was several hours later when I felt tapping on my head and a hand grasping my erect cock. I was fully aroused and ready for action. I moved my mouth to one of Sara’s tits and started to manipulate her nipple with my tongue. Sara kept her hand on my cock, and I jumped every time she rubbed the crown with her thumb.
Sara slipped on top of me and used her hand to direct my cock into her yawning pussy. She brought her body down to mine driving her nipples into my chest. She rose up on her arms and started moving up and down my pole causing her breasts to vibrate. She would come down and kiss me but then continue to move up and down my shaft.
“Darling, I am not sure that you really love me as you are not helping,” said Sara with a smile.
“Come down here and I will show you how much I love you,” I replied.
Sara came down and kissed me and I started to move my cock in and out of her pussy. I kept kissing her even after I climaxed. I felt Sara’s discharge as it ran out of her pussy. Paula would need to change the sheets this morning. It was about this time that we heard the familiar knock on the door. Paula was here and she was calling us to breakfast.
“Sara, I do not remember giving Paula the power to end our pleasure, do you?” I asked with a smile.
“Yes Darling, we specifically we told her to ruin our mornings, I guess we have to end our revels and get to work,” said Sara.
“We will be down in a few minutes Mrs. Kelly,” I said, knowing that she’d already left.
I continued to suck on Sara’s breasts, and my fingers probed her twat. I was trying to get her to climax a second time before we quit. Sara kissed me and moved to her bathroom/dressing area and I quickly heard the shower run. I rose and did the same. As soon as I dressed, I was out of the room. Somehow Sara beat me downstairs. She was sitting outside, and I noticed that she was on her phone. I thought it was Bret and she was making another plan to get into my wallet. She ended the conversation just as I walked up.
“Paul what are these stakes doing in the ground?” asked Sara pointing at the area where I measured yesterday.
“That is what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Mrs. Kelly brought out the tray with our breakfast items and placed it on the table. She withdrew back to the kitchen, leaving us alone. We ate and I explained about my idea to build a cabana. I was hoping I would get Sara’s buy-in to the plan.
“Paul I am not sure that I want to endure more construction.”
“Before you veto the idea let me get with Ms. Bell. Get her to render the building and give me an estimate on the time and cost.”
“Ok Paul I will let her design and make a proposal. But you and I are going to Houston next week,” said Sara.
“When are we leaving and how long are, we going to be in the arm pit of Texas?” I asked.
“We will be there for a week, Barbra Dayworthy invited us to a gala supporting her husband Paul Bosworth’s research. Yes, we will make a substantial contribution. The other reason we are going is my niece and her boyfriend relocated to Houston. The bank she works for wants to train her in oil and gas financing. She has moved her studies to the same university that Bosworth teaches at.”
“What do you consider a substantial contribution, darling?” I asked knowing that the decision was already made.
“I think that five thousand from each of us is a good number. What do you think?”
“Don’t get me wrong. What I think doesn’t matter but I like the number and I like what Paul Bosworth is studying,” I replied.
“Paul, what you think is important, if you disagreed, I would have scaled back,” said Sara.
Before we could get further Paula walked out followed by Ms. Astrid Bell our architect. Paula held a tray with three glasses and a pitcher of lemonade. Thank god it wasn’t iced tea I thought. Sara and I rose and greeted Ms. Bell. The two-women air kissed before they sat down. Paula poured the beverage and withdrew. I followed Paula into the house to gather my notes.
As I was walking back Sara and Ms. Bell were standing next to the area that I had staked out. The architect was making notes and drawing things.
“I guess I didn’t need my notes,” I said as I walked out.
“Darling you are always needed,” said Sara.
Ms. Bell kept making notes and sketches in a small hand-held notebook, and then directed us back to the table. I got the feeling that the project was already a fait accompli, which I didn’t mind. Ms. Bell like all designers could draw better that I hoped to. She started to render a rough design of the building mirroring the design of the house on a larger piece of paper. She put her pencil down and brought out a piece of folded paper from a folder she had and spread it on the table. It was the original plat of the property. In addition to the original house, it showed a proposed pool and cabana. The pool was in the same position, as the original plat. The cabana was shown where I wanted to put it.