First Day In The Caribbean Day 11

Fred heard a tinkling noise about half an hour before his usual getting-up time. Anita jerked herself awake, realized where she was, and jumped up to turn off the alarm on her cell phone. Then she turned to Fred. "Did I fall asleep on us? I need to make that up to you!" and she dove onto the bed and swarmed all over him, covering him with kisses and making sure there was plenty of body contact, especially with his midsection.

Fred hardly knew how to react for the surprise and enjoyment. Except his penile reflex knew what to do. Finally he wrapped his arms around her and growled, "You better, because I have all these kisses that didn't get used up last night," and he began to kiss her everywhere he could reach, rolling her onto her back and giving lots of attention to her breasts.

Anita tossed her head and wiggled, pretending to try to escape, but soon her movement changed to lustful response, arching her back, spreading her legs, and moaning instead of going "eek eek."

Fred got serious, too. He held himself up on his hands as he straddled her. Looking into her eyes, he said, "Y'know you're pretty fun to have around."

Through hooded eyes Anita said, "I need to have you inside me."

Fred lowered himself onto her. She opened her legs even more, forcing his legs apart and giving them both the access they wanted. Once again, Fred was careful, and Anita encouraged him by lifting her hips, forcing herself onto him, going "mmm" with each thrust. As soon as he was all the way in, he began to stroke her vagina with long, slow movements, and she increased her moaning. Gradually he increased the pace, and she encouraged him, meeting him thrust for thrust. Soon he began making groans that indicated he was about at the end of his ability to wait, and Anita said, driving herself onto him fiercely, "go for it, baby. I'm ready." It was all Fred needed, and he pumped vigorously, grunting reflexively. It pushed Anita over the edge, and they climaxed together, both pumping with abandon.

Finally they relaxed. "I hope I didn't hurt you," Fred apologized. "I was being pretty careless there for a while."

"I don't care if I have to walk bowlegged. It was worth it," she smiled. "Maybe we'll have to practice some more to get me into shape."

"Sounds good to me," Fred replied. "Can I, uh, um, er, what—I know—take you out to dinner tonight?"

Anita smiled again. Fred had an endearing habit of alternating between boldness and bashfulness. "You forget we have a finish-the-clean-up activity. Tell you what. I'll get a grocery list together, pick up some stuff, and I'll cook supper. Here, in your nice clean well organized kitchen." She gave him a sexy look. "Would you be okay with me taking a shower and getting more thoroughly cleaned up before I go run my errands? I can lock the door on the way out." She asked this while brushing her hair, something Fred thought was endearing to watch.

"I have a better idea, if you like. I have a spare key. You go clean up; you have the groceries to get anyway. I'll put the key on the kitchen table." Then he looked at the clock. "Urk! look at the time. I gotta head to the shop."

Anita brought out their clean clothes. "That's why I set my alarm early. So we'd have time to mess around, though I hadn't counted on conking out last night." They exchanged some nice kisses and he headed out, hoping it would be the last weekend he'd have to work for a while.

After work, he tested the door and found it unlocked. "That you, Fred?" came a voice from inside.

" 'Fraid so. Lemme get clean quick," and he dashed for the bathroom. About thirty seconds into his shower, the bathroom door opened, and Anita sauntered in, smiling, her eyebrows raised, carrying some clean clothes. Fred looked around the curtain. All she had on was a frilly bib apron and a smile. "Uh, thanks! For, um, everything." He wiggled his eyebrows in appreciation.

She set the clothes on the toilet seat and pulled open the shower curtain. "Won't hurt to get a few drops on the floor." She sat on the pile of clothes and propped her chin on her fist to watch.

Fred stopped being bashful and gave her a show, posing sexily and bulging his muscles as he scrubbed various parts, his eyes on her the whole time. Before long, the sight of her began to affect his reflexes, and her eyes became riveted on his manhood as it grew. "That's a pretty nice outfit you have on," he remarked. "Will you be wearing it to supper?" He rinsed himself off and grabbed a towel to dry off with. "How about you hand me my kilt that you so kindly brought in?"

Anita Jumped up without taking her eyes off him and handed him the wrap as if hypnotized. She couldn't help feeling lucky that she had landed such a hunk, and a gentleman at that. It was fun and comforting and exciting all at once.

For his part, Fred enjoyed the glimpses her skimpy outfit gave him, and as soon as his hands were free, he grabbed her bib and pulled her toward him. She finally looked up and he looked into her eyes, grinning. "Are you a voyeur? I thought only men were voyeurs." He kissed her, feeling her breasts against the back of his fingers. "I think I like it. You're making me less shy." He kissed her again, this time gently holding her head in his hands.

She put her arms around him and wouldn't let him stop kissing her. He let his hands drift south and pressed her into him. She moaned. "Why did I have to make a supper that will spoil if we don't eat it?" she grumbled, then heaved a sigh and stepped back. Then she grinned. "But I don't mind flirting while we eat!"

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Asch was puffing less than he used to when he got to Lydia's. "Must be getting in shape," he thought to himself. Lydia's truck was parked outside the garage, and John's SUV was in the driveway to one side. The building was dark, so Asch figured maybe they had decided to make it an all-night party themselves. Well, it was her business, and Asch was glad that she was having some fun. John had been on the reserved side all evening, which Asch thought was a bit unusual for someone in public service.

When he got into his room, he noticed that the video recording machinery to Lydia's room was on. "Hmm. We'll see how that shakes out in the morning," he muttered to himself. He took a quick shower and hit the sack.

He awoke at the sound of Octavia coming in, and moved aside his cover to welcome her. Octavia put her hands on her hips. "I was gonna sneak in next to you if you had stayed asleep, but since you're awake—and clean, I wanna take a shower and conk out. I'm beat. And I really want to be awake enough to have fun when we're having fun. Come and watch me clean up. Bring your chair, and don't put any clothes on." And she headed for the bathroom.

Asch followed, chair in hand. Octavia started the shower. "Sit about there," she said, pointing. "You get to watch. Asch set the chair down backwards and put himself in it, his arms across the back and a slight smile on his face.

"Now pay attention, so you know what to do when it's your turn to scrub me next time," she said, trying to sound stern, but not able to prevent a half smile.

Asch nodded eagerly. Octavia put a leg on the side of the enclosure and washed her leg, making sure to get all the way up. Then she switched legs. Asch started to get hard just watching. Then she faced him and washed her torso, making sure again to get her privates and breasts. She kept her eyes on Asch—particularly his spread legs and exposed manhood—and deliberately looking as sensual as she could. Asch enjoyed the show, but could see she was tired. "Sure you don't want me to scrub your back?" he pleaded.

"Okay, but don't do anything nice." She handed him the washcloth.

He managed to do a chaste job on her back, and she took back the washcloth, arching her back temptingly.

Glancing down again, she said, "I'm glad to see you're hard just watching. Now back to your chair." She slid the soapy washcloth over her arms and neck, looking at him and sticking her chest out while she scrubbed her neck. Finally she washed her hair, which wasn't particularly suggestive, but he just plain enjoyed watching her. She took every opportunity to move sensuously as she dried herself off, acting turned on when she dried her crotch and breasts.

"Were you ever an exotic dancer?" Asch asked.

"Nope. I just act how I feel. When I think about you." She kissed him and gave his crotch a quick squeeze. "Good. I want you ready and hungry when I'm rested. Now go do your work. I'm gonna get some shut-eye.

She collapsed on the bed and Asch tucked her in, dressed, and headed downstairs.

He finished the shelves in the back room. When he came in from putting the tools away, he found Lydia in the kitchen fixing breakfast. "I see your date's car is gone. Did you have a good time last night?"

"Maybe I should ask what part of the evening you're asking about." her eyes twinkled. "That lecture and dinner party was pretty good, if I do say. John had a good time, too." She stopped kidding around. "Did you look at the video?"

"Well, no. I figured it was none of my business. It's still running, I think."

"Go shut it off, then come down for breakfast. And I want to talk."

Asch complied, and dug into the scrambled eggs and bacon. "Okay, what gives?"

Lydia sat down and picked at her eggs. She looked down meditatively, and stayed silent for maybe a whole minute. Finally she looked up. "Asch, I need some advice."

Asch folded his hands and looked at her attentively.

Lydia hesitated some more. Finally, "It's about John, sort of. I have a dilemma. So maybe it's about me, too." She resumed her silence.

"Start from the beginning?" Asch offered.

"Well." She sighed. "Hard to tell what the beginning is. You know I spend a lot of time on the east side. I've made a lot of friends, gotten involved socially. So far, so good. Even some male friends since Gus died." She took a deep breath. "I suppose politics on an insignificant island isn't really much in the grand scheme of things."

"All humans are important."

"Well, I found out that John might have accepted a bribe. Trouble is, I like him. But it was before I found out. And I don't want to see him get hurt. But I don't approve of the malfeasance. What do I do?"

"What have you done?"

"Well, I made a video, a very compromising one..."

"Who's gonna see it?"

"That's my question."

"Does he like you? I assume he doesn't know that you know about the bribe."

"Based on the last several weeks and last night, he sure seems to like me, and yes, he doesn't know."

Asch thought for a while, Finally, he said, "If you want to preserve the relationship, you should confront him as a friend and give him a chance to set things right. If you get an apology and restitution, the guy might be okay. If he huffs and puffs, making excuses and justifications, you should end the romance. It's up to you to decide whether and how to pressure him into setting things right. Do you have proof that would stand up in court?"

"Formal accusations and the court system is a hassle I'd rather not put myself through if I have any alternative at all. There must be some way to handle this, quietly, or discretely, or something. Effectively. "

"Should I know what he did?"

"Here's the scoop: Two companies want to build a rum distillery on the edge of town, and there's room for only one. Easthaven happens to be the only town on the island with spare room unless you want to build on a steep hillside. They had a town meeting about two weeks ago, and each company gave a presentation. One company is a popular craft beer brewing operation in the states that apparently does a lot of hobby brewing and he wants to branch out into distilled spirits. The owner even hires archaeologists to research really old recipes by analyzing ancient pots, then he tries to brew something like it. He made a reasonable offer—20 new jobs, employ local construction companies based on bids, and he'd cover the entire south end of the property, including the parking lot, with solar panels. The other company said they already had picked out a contractor because they believed in planning ahead, and would create a hundred new jobs and turn their southern edge into a grassy park.

"I liked the little company guy. He seemed genuine and down-to-earth. The other fellow—I don't know, he just seemed a little too polished; oily, even. The city council postponed making a decision so they could do due diligence and look over the proposals in writing; and they held off on the questions until the next meeting, too. So I did a little due diligence myself. It turns out Mr. Oily's company not only is owned by a multi-national agribusiness conglomerate, but they have a history of making grandiose promises, then not keeping them, and causing infrastructure cost overruns besides. And the construction company they hired has a history of poor workmanship. Apparently their workers are from third world countries, and they even put them up in tents during the construction. Believe it or not, UNESCO has even cited them!"

"Hmm. I've heard this sort of story before. Big company pulls the wool over the small-town hicks' eyes," Asch frowned.

"I could hardly wait for the next town meeting, which was due to be next week, and then I learned they had canceled it! John said the big company's offer was so good, there was no contest, and we could go ahead with the deal and even give the company a two-year tax break!

"And that's not all! John's a widower and he has a daughter who is ready to start college. Last week I saw a note in the community section of the paper that she was changing schools, going to an Ivy League school in the states because of a full ride scholarship from 'an anonymous donor.'

"Asch, she was an okay student, member of the volleyball team, but no outstanding skills or anything like that. That news item made me suspicious. About the day you moved in, I asked him about his daughter and he proudly mentioned the change of schools. I asked him outright if he knew who the anonymous donor was, and he got a really guilty look for about half a second, and said he wasn't allowed to reveal who it is. Then I saw him in a new car, that nice SUV. He said he could afford one now that he didn't have to put aside money for tuition. I happened to mention it to the Toyota dealer when I was in town the next day—when you were buying all that stuff—and he let slip that someone had bought the car for John and all he had to do was sign for it. That's when I decided to put in the cameras—my fiendish mind was way ahead of my judgement, I suppose, but part of me wanted to embarrass him as punishment if I couldn't think of a way to use it as leverage. Though to tell the truth I'm not sure what good it'll do besides ruin our friendship."

Lydia sighed. "Now you know everything I know, except I know what's on the tape and you don't," she smiled wickedly.

Asch frowned. "It sounds like your friend is a scumbag. Or has become one. How ambitious is he on his daughter's behalf? Lifelong dream social climbing sort of thing? All this might explain why he was so quiet at the talk and dinner last night. I see one ray of hope. He was dumb enough to accept that car. That tells me he's not an experienced crook. No experienced politician would do something so likely to get out this early in the game. He'd wait until the hubbub was over so people would be less likely to associate the SUV with the deal. Is he acting alone or does he have to go through some channels?"

Lydia raised her eyebrows. "Interesting you should ask. The society page also mentioned that three of the city council are off the island on vacations. That means there's no quorum—that's how he could cancel the meeting!—and the mayor can act by fiat in their absence on time-sensitive issues, subject to review by the full council later, of course. Three of whom might have just been given all-expense vacations. Am I starting to think like Mr. Oily?"

Asch thought a moment. "We have no proof, of course, but it's certainly an interesting coincidence, isn't it? I certainly hope it doesn't mean three of the councilmen are also scumbags," He pursed his lips and looked down for a while. "You know this place better than I do. How amenable are these guys to being honest if they're confronted? Do you suppose there's genuine danger to the whole island's economy if this thing goes through and the big company follows its pattern of promise breaking? How would they respond if the average citizenry got their dander up?"

"The standing joke in town is that nobody who's time is worth anything wants to be on city council," Lydia smirked. "So we elect people with nothing to do so they'll stay out of trouble."

"Ha. I think something like that is a standing joke in a lot of small, sensible towns," said Asch. "So do you think it'll be effective to spread the word to the citizenry? What about confronting John? How might the council members who are in town respond? What about John's daughter?" Asch leaned back. "Tell you what. Get some paper, and let's make a plan."

They spent the next hour considering possibilities, then Octavia came stumbling down the stairs wearing a man's shirt and her shorts. Lydia looked up. "You look a sight for sore eyes, Sweetie. Did that nasty Mr. Asch keep you up all night?"

Octavia went over and put her arms around Asch's neck, nestling his head between her breasts and letting her hair fall over his face. "No, he left me all alone, and I was lonesome," she pouted. "Got any leftover breakfast?"

"Breakfast! It's almost lunchtime! Let's see what I can scrounge up for lunch. What do you feel like eating, Asch? Octavia?"

Asch answered first. "Oh, some kind of sandwich I guess. You know how we guys are; we eat what's put before us."

Octavia said, "I'll have what he's having. Lemme help; see if I like cooking for someone else."

"Pssh," said Lydia. "You've been cooking for Bill and your mom for a couple years now.—How is she, by the way?"

Octavia brightened. "All she ever talks about is her and Sadie this, her and Sadie that. The sales of her stuff are going well, she and Sadie are having a blast, and she's at her needle whenever she's not doing something else. Like lesson plans for her sewing school that she wants to start. Can you believe, she's putting actual samples on the posters she's making to advertise it. She's already got a troop of girl scouts scheduled for Thursday afternoons." She took a breath. "All because of Mr. Asch, the tatting noticer," and she gave him a big hug and kiss before heading for the fridge to help Lydia. "So what have you two been up to?"

They let her in on the problem and their plan over sandwiches. Octavia was shocked. "I'm not a political person, but I think you're right to want to do something about this, and I think you're right to sit on your plans a day. And having said all that, would either of you two be offended if I went back upstairs and got my remaining three hours of sleep?

Lydia made a closed-lipped smile, "You can use the guest room if you want, Dearie."

"Nah, no sense messing up a neat bed when I have one already messed up that I can use. Asch, can I take you out to dinner tonight? At Rita's, about 6:00? You've been treating me so much, it's time I treated you."

Asch got the message to let her actually sleep, and he agreed to the dinner date. "I might be dressed kind of informally..."

She waved him off. "I've brought you respectable clothing before, I can do it again."

Lydia sat down to read and think, Octavia went up to bed, and Asch weeded for about a half hour, tossing things to the goats. then headed for town.

He decided it was time to pick up a few more energy bars, so he stopped at the bike shop. Jenny and a girl about her age were talking excitedly, but they broke off to wait on Asch. "Mr. Jones, I'd like you to meet my cousin, Sharon Conner. Sharon, Mr. Jones."