Mail Order Bride

I was having dinner and drink at the bar of my favorite Ale House when I heard a familiar male voice say my name. When I looked over I saw a previous client of mine approach and ask: "Peter, have you got a minute?"

About to finish my third craft draft and knowing my steak and baked potato would come out at any minute, I impatiently looked him in the eye and said: "If you can make it quick." I hate to be bothered at dinner.

He said: "It's about the outstanding part of my bill, the new restaurant has just launched and things are a bit slow at the present ..." And I cut him off. "Look, Ray is it?"

"No, my name is Art." He answered.

"Well Art, I don't handle those things directly and to be honest, I really don't know what you're alluding to, call my office on Monday." And I handed him my business card.

He responded: "Look, I am in the rears for a little over four grand and I was wondering if we could settle it here, I don't want to lose my new business, it can do great."

"Four thousand and change will wait until Monday." I told him: "But if you have it with you, I'll hand write you a receipt and your worries will be over. Enjoy your weekend, after all, I am an honest businessman and I have never been out to hurt anybody." And I offered my hand.

"Mr. Swiftt, this is Hamari." He announced and a tiniest Asian girl stepped out from behind him: "Can we maybe move over there to our booth?"

I looked at the bartender and said: "Scott."

Who responded: "I'll bring it over when it comes out." And I got up and we seated ourselves in the corner booth with their ice waters.

"This is my wife." He said and then qualified in a low voice: "Mail order bride, if you get my drift? If you would consider waving the remainder of my bill, she's yours for ... let's say a week?" And I felt myself become angered.

When I looked over to get her reaction to that, she immediately looked down. She appeared to be only fourteen or fifteen and I asked in a firm tone: "How old are you?" And when Ray or Art or whatever his name was attempted to answer, I interrupted him with: "I ASKED HER."

She looked up: "Twenty three." She answered just over a whisper and looked back down at the table.

"They have to be over twenty one to come here for an arranged marriage like ours, through immigration and all." He added and she started fumbling through her purse and she did produce a Florida state I. D. that actually proved she was twenty three.

I looked to my left and saw Scott with my plate and a fresh beer walking toward us and I said: "Mr. Scott, false alarm, I'll be having that back at my barstool. These two are leaving. I took her hand, looked him in the eyes and said: "You have my card, phone the office on Monday and ask for accounts receivable." And I went back to my seat at the bar.

"Problem?" Scott asked.

"No, just some asshole trying to mix my pleasure with business." I answered.

"Never fails." He responded: "Hot sexy little Asian thing though." And though I totally agreed with him, I didn't bother to respond.

During my meal and the following three dark crafts I couldn't help but think with my dick, but my head considered the proposition to be on dangerous legal ground and considering it could be a scam, I decided to dismiss it.

I paid my tab, slipped Scotty a twenty and walked to my vehicle.

The second I hit start, I heard the Bluetooth tone and when I answered, I heard Art's voice say: "Mr. Swift, this is Art," and as I was about to end the call, he added: "Look, I just got home and found a collection notice in my mail. Sir, won't you at least reconsider and hear me out? Can we at least come to some payment arrangement ... Please?"

And I stopped to think: "Look, let me sleep on it ... call me first thing in the morning, we'll talk." And not waiting for his response, I ended the call.

Four am I was up and in my weight room for my morning workout, I was showered and sitting by my pool having an espresso and watching the sunrise by five forty five when my cell rang.

Aggravated by recognizing part of that number for the second time, and sure that it was him, I answered in an agitated tone: "Man, can't you just give it a rest?"

Then I heard a soft little female voice respond in a heavy broken accent: "Mr. Peter, this is Hamari, From last night, may I talk with you please?"

Wanting to make sure that this wasn't staged and she wasn't being forced or pressured into anything I inquired: "Are you alone?"

"Not in the house Mr. Peter but in this room, my husband is sleeping upstairs," She answered and from the tone in her voice I believed her, but I was cautious.

"What is it that I can do for you?" I was fishing.

"It is what I will do for you Mr. Peter. Please can we resolve this?" She asked.

"Are you in any kind of danger?" I came back with in response to her boldness.

"Just from losing our business, we have everything in it." She answered.

"Hamari is it? Am I saying it right?" I questioned.

"Yes."

"What is it you are proposing here?" I asked: "I want to be clear on all of this before I decide." I told her but most of all, I wanted the words to come from her in the event that this was some form of a set up.

"Mr. Peter." Her voice came firm and clear: "Is it possible we meet to discuss this in person?"

To say that I wasn't interested would just be wrong, any man given this scenario would have his interests peaked and it's the male human nature to at least consider it in ones mind, even if he hadn't seen her ... but I had. I remembered her to appear to be under five feet tall, a tiny girl, slender, round ample breasts with an athletic build and my mind, libido and emotions were running wild after hearing that question.

"There's a Madison Avenue Cafe near the Saint Armands Circle, do you know it?" I asked: "I'll be heading that way in about an hour to pick something up at my office." I lied and waited for her answer.

"I will find it ... say seven o'clock then." She responded and the minute that I ended the call, I had buyer's remorse.

"Why drag this out?" I thought to myself: "This whole situation is embarrassing in fact what Art suggested and the way he suggested it stinks. He's a punk and needs his ass kicked" I thought, but I knew I would keep that meeting.

I grabbed my laptop, accessed my office files and checked out the three clients who were in the rears. Two were only a matter of days, then him.

I walked into the Cafe at of around ten of seven and Spoke to Rodger the owner and I saw Hamari sitting at a corner table facing the door looking directly at me. She was real pretty, A lot more so than I remembered her to be from last night, so I excused myself, walked over and sat next to her so I could monitor where the other patrons were that might overhear our conversation and I asked: "Where's Art?"

She looked at me kind of surprised and answered: "Our place."

I said: "This is your meeting, I agreed to see you at your request, so tell me ... how can I help you?"

She answered in a soft low voice: "Mr. Peter, you know the situation, every penny we make goes back in the business. You heard my husband's offer, it is mine too, won't you at least consider it?"

"Look, I took the opportunity to check this out. With interest and late fees." I explained: "You're now up around five large. If I were so inclined, I could buy a lot of what you are offering me for that kind of money, professional women, don't you think?" And she just sat there looking down at the table.

Feeling kind of bad for coming across so strong, to break the awkward silence I asked her: "Do you ever smile?" And she just looked at me and I felt my heart kind of sink.

I called for her tab and I asked her to walk with me for a while so we could talk a little more privately and we left the Cafe.

"Just what is it you are willing to do for me?" I asked.

Without hesitation she answered: "Anything."

"Are you sure that you aren't in any kind of danger from your husband or anyone else over this situation." I asked again.

And she shook her head and said: "Yes I am sure."

"Do you drive?" I inquired.

"Yes I drive." She fired back as if she was a bit insulted by that question.

"And you're willing to sell yourself to me in order to satisfy that debt?" I openly asked her. I had to know and I wanted to hear it from her and I could tell from the thin athletic style cloths that she had on there was no way she could be wearing a wire.

"Mr. Peter, I am not cheap, we're just that desperate." And by that time, we were standing near my SUV.

"What are you driving?" I asked her.

"Driving?" She answered with a question.

"Yeah, where's your car parked?" I asked.

"Art dropped me off, he's waiting at our restaurant for me to call." She responded

I opened the passenger door on my Escalade and said: "Get in." And as I assisted her, I couldn't help but admire he long shining jet black hair, the gentle curve of her back, the way her cute little firm ass showed through her tight grey stretch Capri's and basically, just her overall cute tiny little form.

I went around, got in and as I was buckling up, I heard myself say: "If I was willing to act on this, when and where?"

She replied: "If you will drive me by our house so I can pick up a few things we can start now." And as I pulled out of the parking spot, she said: "Go left at the next intersection."

Feeling a little powerful now I told her: "If I do go through with this, I expect everything and I mean absolutely everything, no boundaries." and as I waited for her reaction, she activated her phone and told who could only have been Art something about it being handled.

I called my office and left my accountant a detailed voicemail telling him that I had made arrangements for a partial payment plan in the form of a certified checks and that I would bring in the first with me on Monday. I looked over at Hamari and told her: "Be sure to pack a swimsuit." And I pondered over whether take her to my home in Oyster Bay after she collected her things, or book us a suite at one of the hotels out on the beach at Sarasota Bay.

Due to the fact that I knew I would intentionally stretch this out as long as I could, I decided to bite the bullet and take her to my home. I was pondering over how to initiate our first day together, thinking of a swim, dinner and a slow evening together just to feel things out, when out of nowhere she announced: "Braces."

Unable to connect the dots: "Excuse me?" was my reply.

"I am wearing braces." She announced and when she looked over and grinned so I could see them, I notice it for the very first time, a thin clear band over her teeth that must have made her too self-conscious to smile: "Lord knows she's not selfish." I reasoned.

Fifteen minutes later my finger pressed the overhead console button and we're watching the large iron gates to Oyster Bay slowly open. Moments later we were pulling around the winding driveway of my home: "Mr. Peter." She exclaimed: "Wow, this is beautiful, right on the water and that pool!"

Being real proud of my place I boasted: "Sixty five hundred square feet of southern Florida style living." I told her: "A lot more if you consider the outdoor kitchen and living space here and the mother in law quarters above my garage. Do you like steak?" I asked.

"Very much," She answered and I lead her in through main floor indoor kitchen and showed her the basic layout.

I opened the door to the back guest suit and told her that she could put her things in there and I went to my bedroom, kicked off my shoes, stripped and changed into a pair of swim trunks and pulled on my comfortable old "Marina Jack's" t-shirt.

I went to the kitchen and trimmed out two nice New York strips I had hanging in the dry aging chamber with some other Kobe beef and I selected two rally nice size potatoes and went out on my patio and set the grill on "clean." and fired it up.

When I heard the patio door roll open, I looked over and Hamari asked: Mr. Peter may I help with anything?"

I answered: "Yes, for starters please, drop the 'Mr.' and just call me Peter." Then I added: "I was going to make us a salad, but I'm afraid my romaine has seen better days." And surprisingly, she offered to see what she could do with it and whatever it was, when she brought it out it looked great.

She found the dishes in my inside kitchen cabinets and set the patio table while I put the potatoes on and I asked her to choose a bottle of "red" out of the wine cooler next to my Subzero fridge.

When she walked out with the bottle she selected carrying two glasses, I asked if she brought along a swimsuit and she actually smiled at me and nodded: "A smile" I thought, that's a first and I suggested she go in and change.

After the potatoes were done, I barely seared the steaks and I poured the wine to let it breath and when I heard the door again I looked, watched her step out and I had to freeze my face like James Comey in testimony, in order to prevent my mouth from dropping open.

When she saw my gaze, she just stopped and looked at me.

She was beautiful in her white bikini. Pale, pale off white flesh, stunning cleavage in the soft cotton look of her top. Melon shaped breasts, tiny slender waist with a flat chiseled hard looking tummy sporting the cutest outie navel I believe I have ever seen. Though her bottoms appeared to be pulled up and tied off tight, there was no hint of a camel toe in the firm looking little pooch of a pubic mound.

"Sorry Hamari." I finally said, then I before I could reconsider: "You are gorgeous!" rolled off of my tongue and for the first time since we left the Cafe, strong animalistic anticipation set deep in my loins.

I watched as she kind of nodded her head a little to one side as if in approval to my verbal reaction and we sat, had our dinner and shared some small talk over the many questions she had about my house.

She seemed interested in how I designed the pool to appear as if it spilled out into the bay and she was impressed when I told her that I had totally gutted everything and rebuilt it into what she sees today.

"It is lovely, I can see you and your spirit in the home." She told me: "But there is no lady's touch." She said in more of a form of inquiry than a statement.

"That's because other than my cleaning lady, and maybe a realtor or two, you're the only one that I have had in it since I acquired it some twenty years ago." I explained.

She got a puzzled look of concern and asked: "Don't you have a girlfriend or ever date?"

"Some." I answered: "But I have a sailboat moored in Sarasota Bay near Marina Jack's and I recently inherited another home in Colonial Gables and if it is anything serious, we usually wind up there." I half ass explained.

That afternoon was pleasantly warm and I watched as she sipped her wine and laid her head back and it was incredible to watch the bead of crystal clear sweat travel down the front of her neck and nestle down in between her firm breasts.

"We'll leave the dishes for now." I told her: "I know it's not recommended to go for a swim right after a meal, but I find it relaxing to paddle around in the shallow end of the pool to cool off after I eat a heavy meal, would you care to join me?" And I pulled my t-shirt over my head.

She put her tiny soft hand in my big paw and we walked past the spa down the steps into the four foot water.

Though my pool is constantly heated, I like to keep it in the low to mid seventies in summer. I hate to come home after a run or a workout and step into water as warm as a bath, I have a shower for that.

As she descended into the water it practically came up to her bottom lip and she turned, faced and moved up against me. As she put her arms around my waist and hugged me, I could feel the effects the cool water had on her nipples as they literally poked into the flesh on my midsection.

Without having to think, I put my arms around her, bent forward and with the palm of each hand locating it's own firm little cheek of her ass, I picked her up and she turned her head slightly left, opened her mouth and covered mine in a long wet kiss with tongue.

Her breath was sweet, her mouth and tongue moisture nectar and I felt my loins ache and my dick start to throb and grow hard as she literally sat in the palms of my hands. I broke that kiss, placed my chin on her left shoulder and whisper directly into her ear: "Look, you know you don't have to do this. I will work something out."

She playfully bit and nibbled my neck and ear and whispered back: "No, Peter I want to do this."

My home in Oyster Bay is in an exclusive gated compound of only a few fine homes and other than my outdoor shower, my back outdoor kitchen, living area, pool and spa are only semi private being exposed across the entire back of my lot where they directly face the water, but I still exercise some caution.

When she wrapped her legs around my waist my hands were inside her bikini bottom and her tight little ass felt smooth and creamy and as I slowly started to slip that bottom down the slope of her upper thigh I felt her shiver as the bare crack of her as stated to straddle my trunk covered erection: "Your sure? ... You're shivering." I softly asked: "Damn it swift, why the compassion." I had to ask myself: "Just take her in and knock the bottom out of her." My dick started telling me.

"I'm a little cold." She responded and I realized from the fact that she probably had zero body fat, that she must be.

I slowly let her slip down the front of me until she stood on her tiptoes and adjusted her bikini bottom and five steps upward out of the water later, after grabbing our wine, we were easing down in the hot bubbling water of my spa.

"This is so nice." she cooed and as she snuggled up under my arm. I actually could feel her cold clammy smooth flesh from the pool start to grow warmer now, actually warmer than that of my spa ... and I wanted her.

I toyed with the string on her top and I slowly untied it revealing two perfectly shaped milky white upswept breasts. Her nipples were a light tan and her head pressed back against my shoulder as I petted fondled and gently squeezed them. As I continued to softly compress and watch them rebound and snap back, she started to softly purr a humming sort of continual moan that I barely noticed above the sound of the jets and I found it pleasant, arousing and hypnotic.

I started to fumble trying to see through the bubbles, feeling for the string to her bottoms and she brushed my hand away, whispering: "Wait." And as she took a hold of me through my trunks her expression changed from the look of most pleasant peace and total comfort to one of surprise, awe and concern ... and the timer timed out and the jets shut down.

As the bubbles started to quickly dissipate, she pulled the front of my waistband forward, reached inside, took hold and asked: "May I see it?"

I softly took hold of her forearm and while gently pulling her hand away, I looked her directly in her lovely black eyes and whispered: "Wait."

She kind of got that little female defiant look and said: "I think it's time to go in and shower."

As we stood, I handed her, her top, adjusted the front to my trunks and said: "There's no need to go in." And I walked here the few steps to the private tropical courtyard garden right outside my master bedroom where I had the two Calais claw foot tubs installed across from the multiple shower heads that were mounted directly on the side of my house.

Southern Florida is a magical wonderland, nothing has to be winterized and let me tell you, there is nothing to compare to a private outdoor shower when the weather cooperates and on the gulf side of this state, thats ninety percent of the year..

Hamari was amazed when I stood back and turned on the valve to let the water warm up and when I opened the little watertight cabinet and handed her the shower gel and a fresh rolled up towel from it, she was actually smiling again.