Francis stroked Patrick's hand as he pushed the shopping cart by her side. With prices so much lower across the bridge, it made sense to pick up some items on their house hunting trip. Francis picked up a box of extra large condoms and put them in the cart with a wink. "Thanks for the complement," Patrick responded, "but we won't be needing those until after you deliver." Patrick sighed to himself. -When we started trying in May it seemed so simple, - Patrick thought. - Three months later, it feels more like a chore. - He put the condoms back and selected a home pregnancy test to purchase. "Any word from Dr. Herven?"
"No. Don't worry about it, honey. Sam said that stress just makes it more difficult." Francis rubbed her husband's forearm affectionately. "Dr. Herven said your sperm count is high. It's just a matter of time." Patrick blushed a bit. Despite the doctor's assurance, he still felt responsible for their difficulty.
Patrick held their purchases in his lap as Francis drove them to the house viewing. They could probably have found a store closer to the open house, but he wanted an excuse to drive along route 138. Francis may have been made for downtown, but Patrick loved to gaze at bucolic views. That was also his excuse for asking Francis to drive on this outing. For some reason, Patrick was starting to prefer the passenger seat as of late.
Row upon row of opulent homes greeted them as they entered Kahnawake, Quebec. From the phone description, Patrick had thought the advertised home was too posh for them. Now he realized that it would stand out as less than average in this neighborhood. "Francis, do you think it's prudent to buy a house in this area on a University salary?"
"No, but it's fine for us when you add a lawyer's salary to that. The case load at the Montreal Universal Freedom Foundation is ballooning. I switch from desk work to handling trials next month. There's a pay increase to go along with the extra responsibility. Don't worry, babe. I'll take good care of you." Francis palmed Patrick's crotch to emphasize the point. Patrick looked at the boxes next to Francis's busy hand. Ginkgo tea, mucuna seeds, lavender oils, he hoped they worked. Francis increased the pressure of her hand, knocking the bag off Patrick's lap and spilling its contents onto the car floor. Patrick glued his eye to the scenes out the window to keep his erection in control. He hadn't cum in 10 days, and he did not want to spot his shorts.
Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the house viewing. Francis stepped out of the car and marched to the front door, her navy blue sundress sweeping along the cobblestone path. Patrick lingered in the car to hide the pregnancy test and aphrodisiacs in his cargo shorts pockets. There was no sense letting the neighbors let on before they even moved in. He hurried to join his wife on the porch. Francis rang the doorbell, then straightened out Patrick's T shirt while they waited for the door to open.
The realtor greeted them warmly. "Ah, punctual, just like Sam said you would be. How is Sam by the way?" she asked as she ushered them in to the spacious foyer.
"He's doing well," Patrick replied. "He is up for tenure this year, and the botany department added 'First Nation Domesticated Herbs' to his course load."
"That Sam Shatz is a wiz at natural remedies. You know, he gave me a concoction of leaves that cured my hay fever in no time. I apologize that the house isn't quite ready. The gardener arrived late today. In fact, I have to step out to talk to him now. Stay right there. I won't be a moment."
Francis turned to Patrick once they were alone. "Dear, adjust yourself. I can see the effects of our fun in the car."
Patrick looked down at his shorts. "No, that's not me. That's a bottle in my pocket." He produced the guilty container. "I didn't think it was wise to leave it in plain view."
The realtor returned. "Oh, is that for me? How thoughtful," she declared as she reached for the bottle of lavender oil.
Francis quickly intervened, "Actually it's mine. Sam recommended it to help me with ... to help me with my dry skin." She spread the oil over her bare arms to demonstrate.
"My," said the realtor as she whiffed the lavender scent, "that is heavenly. Um, right. Let's start with the foyer. As you can see, it lets in plenty of natural sunlight and has a high ceiling to accommodate the largest Christmas tree you can find. That grand staircase leads to the second floor. We'll go up there to view the bedrooms later. First I want to show you the ground floor traffic flow. Follow me through the dining room. These sliding oak doors tuck away into the walls so you can combine the dining and living rooms to host a large dinner party. Off the living room, we have a professional grade kitchen. Then the servant's stairway and finally walking through the parlor brings us back to that wonderful foyer. So," she asked, inhaling deeply and looking at Patrick, "shall I take you to the bedroom?"
Patrick gulped. He had noticed Francis flirting with him during the tour, but had chalked it up to their 10 days of abstaining from sex. They were practicing a reverse of the rhythm method to maximize their chances of conceiving. It consisted of 12 days of abstinence during Francis's infertile period to help Patrick recharge, followed by 16 days of intercourse during her fertile period. It was normal for Francis to get frisky by day 10 or 11, but what was getting the realtor so worked up? Patrick shrugged. - It must be something in the air.-
The sound of a chain saw outside rescued Patrick from his predicament. The realtor rolled her eyes. "I told him to work on the path today, not the pruning. Running gas powered tools isn't legal on Sundays. I better yell at the gardener before someone calls the cops on us. Feel free to get acquainted with the master suite until I finish with him." Her hips swayed just a bit too much as she walked out the front door.
Francis took Patrick's hand. "Well, my lord, would you like to see your chambers in your new castle?"
