I was a bit early. Forty-five minutes to be exact. But I’d done that on purpose. The listing I was interested in was clear across town from where I currently lived. Not only was I unfamiliar with the area, as far as ever having gone there to see it, I wanted to get a look at the place from the outside myself first. If I didn’t like the way it looked from the outside, there was still plenty of time to call the realtor and cancel my appointment.
I recently published my first novel. My advance had been enough to lift my eyebrows and paint a smile on my face that felt permanent. Things were looking up, my old apartment, shabby, disheveled, and now woefully inadequate for my new status, had spurred me into looking for a new place to live. Not just any place either. I wanted something reclusive, a nice quiet place where I could write, away from the sounds of the city, honking horns, barking dog’s…sirens. It had been so long since I’d heard a bird singing, I’d almost forgotten what that sounded like.
I’d been looking at listings for over a week now, found two I thought sounded interesting and called the respective realtor’s setting up appointments. The first was an open-house that I was told would be going on all weekend. It was important that I get there today as I was assured the place wouldn’t be on the market very long. It had just appeared for one, listed well below the home’s value from what I was told, though the reason for that would be explained later, after I’d had a chance to look at the place.
“Yeah sure,” I thought to myself. Though the price was indeed within the range I was considering. But I couldn’t help but wonder why the owners were in such a hurry to let it go for one, if it in fact promised everything the ad said it had. Still, the agent I spoke to assured me that it would no doubt be gone before the weekend was up.
I couldn’t help but wonder if that was a typical plot in trying to get people to jump at a preconceived bargain, not knowing all the facts. Arriving early would at least give me a chance to see it for myself before subjecting myself to the long drawn out sales pitch I was anticipating.
I stopped checking directions, a stone paved driveway stood in front of me, the address I was looking at carved in the stump of what was once an enormous pine tree from the looks of it. Along the drive, several more pines, each one towering majestically towards the sky, giving the long drive way an almost tunnel-like feel to it as I turned in.
“So far so good,” I thought to myself. The closest neighbor from what I could tell was a quarter of a mile away on either side. The house itself tucked back well within the property, one side shielded against the North winds by a sizable hill that gave the place an air of rustic, comfy, seclusion, just what I was looking for. I pulled up into the circular driveway just in front of the house, though noticing a three-car garage connected to it as I pulled in. “Perhaps in a couple of years, a few more books, I could actually afford to fill up the garage,” I mused to myself, stepping out of the car.
I looked up and noticed the door was open, a sign with balloons attached to it planted in the ground nearby. I read, “Open house” walking up the carved stone stairway towards the door. With the door open I knocked. Even though the realtor I was expecting to show me the place wasn’t expected for another forty minutes or so yet, I knew there might be others there who would be, showing the same place to their clients.
“Hello?” I said stepping in through the door, though no one answered, and no one appeared there to greet me. I wasn’t too surprised the place wasn’t locked to be honest about it, it was far out and away from a lot of things, including crime from what the statistics had shown when I Googled the area I was considering. Another plus…and a big one! The place was nicely furnished, very much so.
Nothing too elaborate or fancy…more comfortable, again rustic. Just the way I liked it. There had been a provision in the sale of the house, much of the furniture could and would be included if the prospective buyer wanted it for a considerable discount. That too was within my range, and certainly an option. I stood fingering the soft leather upholstery of a particular chair, envisioning myself sitting in front of it by the fire, smoking a pipe. I didn’t smoke, but the image fit.
“Hello.”
I jumped, not expecting to hear the sound of a female voice. Turning, I saw a beautiful young woman having just come through the door. She wore her dark hair comfortably resting about her shoulders, thick wavy and lustrous, just like her eyes. Her legs were long, disappearing beneath a modestly hemmed skirt, yet hinting at the elegance of their shape. Her breasts full, pressing against the material of her white sheer blouse, the lacy pattern of her bra peeking through it, likewise hinting at the treasures concealed there beneath it.
“Hi, I’m Steve,” I said, holding out my hand in greeting. “I’m a bit early,” I said a little sheepishly.
“Yeah, me too,” she smiled back introducing herself. “Daicy,” she smiled, flashing me the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen, lighting up the deep-set blue eyes I found myself swimming in as I stood there looking at her.
“Nice place,” I quickly added, “though to be honest, I’ve only seen this much of it,” I said looking about as I stood there.
“Shall we take a tour of the rest of it?” she then asked. I grinned at her feeling like a teenage kid again, though I quickly followed her into an adjoining room, which was obviously the kitchen area. She briefly pointed out all the obvious amenities, along with a very large fully stocked pantry off to one side.
“That’s nice,” I said upon seeing it. If I was smart and bought things well enough ahead of time, I’d only have to take the drive back into the city to do my main grocery shopping once a month rather than weekly the way I’d been doing. I soon after followed her up the stairs to what was obviously the bedroom, watching the tightness of her firm ass struggling within the confines of the tight skirt she was wearing. She looked back catching me doing that, at least I thought so anyway, though she smiled.
She stood in the doorway of what was obviously the master bedroom. It was spacious, a bit feminine in décor, but I could easily fix that. I followed her out to what was obviously a spacious deck through a pair of French doors, delighted to see a small, yet cozy patio table and two chairs. The view beyond looking down into a spacious meadow, happenstance perhaps, fate…whatever you want to call it, as a huge Bull Moose stood in the middle of it grazing as we stood there leaning against the railing looking at it.
“That come with the house?” I asked jokingly. It was after all on my property. “Hmm, my property!” I silently mused speaking to myself. Already I was thinking of it in those terms.
“Beautiful isn’t it?” she asked, looking out, though I stood back slightly behind her, looking at her as I answered.
“Very.” Though I was in fact once again seeing myself sitting here out on the deck early in the morning, cup of coffee, my laptop, bird song…the sound of her voice speaking to me as she stepped out onto the deck from the bedroom. Wearing nothing more than a simple terry cloth robe. I sighed, chasing away the fantasy and the image, though still looking at her as she turned. Once again she smiled as though aware of my thoughts.
“Peaceful isn’t it?”
“Yes, ” I said grinning once again. “Very.”
“Romantic too.”
That one surprised me, but I nodded my head in agreement.
“Married?” she asked.
“Ah…no, not since the last time I checked anyway,” I said, trying to keep the mood light. Now it was her turn to nod her head.
“No doubt you’d use one of the other two bedrooms as some sort of study, work room then,” she questioned. “What do you do for a living anyway?” she asked curiously.
It was nice, a bit of a self ego boost when I answered. “I’m a writer,” I responded, “An author,” I amended, liking the sound of that a lot better. Certainly better than my previous profession anyway. “I’m a shoe salesman. Or was…” I said, answering myself.
She smiled at that, a twinkle in her eye of curious interest. “What kind of books do you write?” she then asked.
“Book,” I thought silently, quickly if I’d wanted to be honest and correct her. But I didn’t. “Oh, fantasy mostly…but not the typical variety of a lot of authors,” I told her, sensing that Fantasy wasn’t obviously part of the genre she was used to reading. “The difference being, my Elves, Gnomes and Daison have intimate relations.”
She laughed at that, once again her smile lighting up her face, her eyes sparkling in the morning sun backlighting her where she stood, just like an angel. Or a beautiful Elf. And I nearly told her that. She looked like a beautiful sexy elf, all she needed was a pair of pointed ears peeking through the thick mane of her dark hair to complete the fantasy.
“I guess I never thought of that,” she said, still grinning. “Makes sense though, I guess Elves, Gnomes, and what was it? Daison? Have sex just like everyone else otherwise they wouldn’t exist now would they?”
I didn’t have the heart to say the obvious. Fantasy creatures all cavorting about having sex. My own fantasy traveling at light speed here right now as I envisioned taking her while bending her over the railing. Which is about the time I felt the hard press of my rapidly stiffening cock against my jeans. It was time to talk about something else, think about something else before things got any worse than they already were. Her eyes told me as she glanced briefly down however, that it was possibly already too late.
“What’s the name of the book?” She then asked.
“Dragon’s Breath,” I said, smiling proudly. I watched as she made a mental note of it. Though realizing she had herself corrected my earlier omission.
“What else have you written?” she asked, though turning back to face the meadow beyond, our moose…my moose, only then nonchalantly walking back into the trees out of sight.
Turning her back gave me a bit more courage to answer that one. At least I didn’t have to see the initial response in her face as I answered that, which I did, surprising myself.