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An Alabama Experience

12

I moaned loudly as the phone's ringing refused to stop. I rolled twice toward the sound, tossing blankets to the side as I did, and reached up to grab the phone. "Hmmmm?" I voiced into the receiver.

"Ms. Calista Holiday?" a deep voice asked.

"Yes," I responded.

"This is Aidan Conner. I must regretfully inform you of the death of your great-aunt, Faye Michaels." The man's vaguely familiar accent registered, but his words didn't.

"Who is this?" I asked.

"Aidan Conner. I am the executor of your aunt's, or rather, your great-aunt's, estate."

"I have a great-aunt?" Still barely awake, I was now thoroughly confused.

"You did until last Thursday, when she passed away. She was very old, and her death was peaceful."

"Well, that's nice," I replied. "What does this have to do with me?"

"Mrs. Michaels has included you in her will. I need you to come down here for the reading of it." The man's voice was slightly amused. "Apparently, she was following your writing career."

"Really?" I was shocked, as I had only been published a handful of times in small literary magazines. "Wait, come down where?"

"To Bayou La Batre, Alabama."

"Alabama?" Things were falling into place now. My mother's mother grew up in Alabama, moving to Chicago after she was married. This Faye Michaels must be her sister, whom I'd visited a few times as a kid.

"Yes, ma'am. Soon as you make arrangements for getting here, give me a call."

***

I rented a car at the Montgomery airport and set out for Bayou La Batre. It was about a four hour drive, so I had plenty of time to get acquainted with the country music that dominated the radio. I drove fast, hoping to get this trip over as quickly as possible.

When at last I pulled into the parking lot of Aidan Conner's law practice, I was feeling justified by my stereotyped image of Alabama. Low, dirty houses lined the roads of Bayou La Batre, and small, dirty children played in the yards of each house. I had no idea there were so many children in the state of Alabama, let alone in this one town. I walked into the office, which was miraculously clean, and introduced myself to the receptionist.

"Yes, of course, dear, we've been expecting you." Her red hair hung loose about her shoulders, drawing my eye to the low v of her blouse. She smirked as she said, "Please have a seat. He'll be with you in a moment."

"Is there a restroom I might use first?"

"Just around the corner."

I walked in the direction of her pointed finger, going into the restroom. I looked in the mirror; not too bad, considering the 3 hour flight and 4 hour drive. I adjusted my blouse, and then took my hair out of its loose bun. I brushed it out, then tied it back up and walked back out to the waiting area. A very tall, very muscular man was talking to the receptionist, and he turned when I entered. "Ms. Holiday?" he grinned, deep dimples appearing in his tan cheeks.

I nodded and held out my hand. "Mr. Conner?"

"Of course," he shook my hand. "Please, follow me."

We walked through a door and then down a hallway until we reached a large, well-lit office. "Won't you sit down?" he gestured toward a chair as he moved back behind the large oak desk. I sat, studying the very attractive older man in front of me. He had to be at least 6'4", with a very muscular body and an amazing smile. Light brown curls fell over his forehead, and his brown eyes shone with intelligence. The gold band on the fourth finger of his left hand disappointed me more than the fact that he had to be in his late-forties.

"Well, Ms. Holiday, I'm sorry about your loss. Faye Michaels was a wonderful woman."

"I'm afraid I didn't know her very well at all. I only met her a few times, when my grandmother brought me to visit. I was much younger then." My chair was surprisingly comfortable, and I found myself relaxing in it.

"I see. Mrs. Michaels had no children, and her husband died several years ago. We were actually good friends, as she lived next door to me. Granted, the houses are several miles apart, but we often had Faye over for dinner and discussion. She was a smart lady."

"Yes, I remember that about her." Those dimples were awfully distracting.

"Well, are you ready to open the will?" He reached into his filing cabinet and pulled out an envelope.

"What, now?"

"Yes, of course."

"Shouldn't anyone else be here?"

"You are the sole recipient of Mrs. Michaels' estate." I sat back in surprise as he opened the envelope. He continued, "You have inherited $200,000, her car, and her property. And, of course, the house."

"What?"

"This is the guaranteed inheritance. You are to move into the house and, within one year, produce a published book of poetry. If you do, the rest of her estate will be released to you."

"The rest?"

"Some five million dollars, plus stocks, bonds, and further property holdings."

"And what happens if I don't do this? If I don't publish a book, or if I don't move into the house?"

"The property is all to be sold and donated to various charitable organizations."

"Wow. This is a lot to take in. How long do I have to decide?"

"One week. I assume you'd like to see the house."

"Of course."

***

Aidan Conner drove a very large SUV. He drove it quickly. As we pulled into a very long driveway thirty minutes later, he told me, "You are welcome to stay here tonight. Annie has been keeping the house in order. She's the housekeeper," he told me after noticing my confused look.

Finally, a large, white house came into view. Columns in the front supported the balconies of the second floor. It looked as if it had been impeccably kept up. "Wow," I said.

"Yes, it's quite a house," Aidan laughed. "Come on. I'll introduce you to Annie."

We walked in the front door, and a small, elderly woman entered the room. "Hello, Annie, this is Ms. Holiday," Aidan said.

"Please, call me Calista," I insisted as the woman shook my hand. After a few minutes, Annie offered to give me a tour of the house. Room after room of beautiful furniture, fantastic artwork, and incredible views were followed by a trip to the garage, where a classic red MG sat. "This is my car?" I asked, shocked.

"It is if you take the deal," Aidan answered.

I already knew that I was going to take it, but I told him that I needed to sleep on it. I chose a bedroom on the second story at the back of the house. It had a large four-poster bed and opened to a balcony that had stairs going down to the backyard. After Annie left for the night, I sat on the balcony and thought about what adjustments I'd make to the house. I slept soundly that night, knowing that my life was about to change for the better.

***

Aidan picked me up early the next morning and took me to his office, where the rental car was still waiting.

"Have you made your decision?" He asked me on the way there.

"Well, in Chicago, I have tiny apartment in a bad neighborhood, where the rent is so high that my waitressing job barely covers it. I barely have any time to write. I don't think there's any question."

"Good," he smiled. "I know it's none of my business, but how old are you, Ms. Holiday?"

"Calista," I reminded him. "Twenty-two."

"Ah, barely older than my boys. I'm sure they'd love to show you around once you get settled in. They will be home for the summer starting next week."

"You have kids?"

He nodded. "Two of them. Gray is twenty-one, and he's just finished his junior year at Yale. London is twenty, and a sophomore at Alabama State."

"You must be so proud," I said to him. "I just finished my degree at the University of Chicago."

"Congratulations. Well, here we are," he turned into the parking lot. I got into the rental car, promising to contact him as soon as I had moved my things into my new home. On the drive back to the airport, I wondered how I was going to tell everyone about what had happened.

***

In Chicago, I packed up my possessions and made several small purchases, then called the few friends I still talked to. No one was very surprised that I was taking this opportunity, and after making a few people promise to visit, I boarded a plane bound for Mobile, which is much closer to the Bayou than Birmingham.

I took a taxi to my new home and set about putting my things in their places. My computer went in the room next to the one I'd picked as my bedroom, and I replaced the sheets on my bed with the brand new satin ones I'd bought in Chicago. I had already decided to put a hot tub in the backyard, and went online to buy one and set up delivery for the day after tomorrow. After a long bath, I found the phone and dialed Aidan's office number.

"Oh, good, you're back," he said. "Gray is coming in this afternoon, and Gracie, my wife, is making a big dinner out of it. I'd like you to come. You can meet everyone there."

After getting directions and agreeing to be at the Conner house around seven, I hung up and went to work at my computer.

***

I decided on a classic black dress for the evening, and accented it with a small diamond necklace and matching earrings. My long blond hair in its inevitable knot, I stepped into my new car feeling very lucky. The ten minute drive to the Conners' house was pleasant, the warm Alabama air calming any nerves I might have otherwise had.

The house was very similar to mine, with columns and balconies all over the place. Several cars were parked outside, and I parked quickly and walked up to the house. A young man sat on the porch, and as I approached, he stood. "Can I help you?" he asked, and I was struck by how much he resembled Aidan. He was shorter, maybe 5'10", but he had the same wavy brown hair, husky brown eyes, golden skin, tantalizing dimples, and very muscular body. The body was at present covered in a pair of tan pants, a white shirt with a few open buttons at the top, and a navy dinner jacket.

It took me a moment to realize that he was talking to me. "Oh, of course," I responded quickly, "I'm Calista Holiday, and you must be one of Aidan's sons."

"Oh, yes, my father said you would be coming," he held his arm out. "I'll show you to him."

Taking his arm, I walked beside him. "Thank you. Which son are you?"

"I'm sorry," he grinned, his dimples sending my pulse racing. "I'm London, the younger one."

"The one at Alabama State, right?"

"Very good," he replied. "You listen well. Dad," he called as we moved through the house toward the backyard. "Ms. Holiday is here."

Aidan turned from his conversation with a small, dark-haired woman and smiled when he saw me. "Welcome," he said. "I see you've met London. This is my wife, Gracie." The delicate woman shook my hand politely, and I saw through her smile that she was every bit as attractive as her husband and younger son. Aidan excused us and told me, "I want to introduce you to Gray."

He led me past various groups of people, occasionally introducing me to someone. He moved to the end of the swimming pool, where a group of young people sat laughing. "Gray?" Aidan said, "I'd like to introduce you to our new neighbor. This is Calista Holiday. She inherited Mrs. Michaels' place."

A tall, slender young man rose from his chair and walked toward me with his hand extended. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Holiday." He had his mother's dark hair, which was closely cropped, high cheekbones, and a goatee. The shimmering grey eyes gave away the source of his name.

"Please, call me Calista," I smiled as I shook his hand. We had barely begun conversing when a woman called everyone in for dinner. I was seated next to Gray, and directly across from London, and I noticed as we ate that everyone at the party seemed extremely attractive and wealthy. "These aren't the typical Bayou La Batre people, are they?" I murmured to Gray.

He laughed quietly. "Oh no. These are the wealthiest families. They all live outside of town, like us." He gestured for a man in a white suit to refill my wine glass. "Now tell me, Calista, how do you like living in that big house all alone?" His left hand, under the table, had found its way to my knee, and I moved my hand to his to remove it.

"It's really nice, obviously. I have a lot of time to write and the quiet to really relax." His hand, still resting on my knee, turned to squeeze my hand.

"Oh, you're a writer?" he asked, moving his hand to the inside of my thigh.

"A poet." I found myself becoming turned on despite the fact that I barely knew Gray.

"How lovely. I'll have to read what you've written." His hand continued its path up my thigh, now moving slightly under my skirt.

"Yes, well, maybe you will." I again tried to stop his hand, but his gray eyes bore into mine, and I nearly lost my breath.

"Gray," London called from across the table, and Gray's hand immediately left my thigh and his body turned toward his brother, who began talking about some vacation the two of them had taken the year before.

After dinner, people returned to the backyard, and London offered to give me a tour of the house. Still shaken by the intense interaction with Gray, I agreed, and, taking his arm, followed him upstairs. As he discussed the various architectural features in each room, he gradually moved his arm from mine to around my waist. Eventually, his hand slid down to my butt. "London!" I said, moving away.

Ignoring me, he pushed a door open. "And this," he said, "is my room." He waited for me to go in, and then closed the door behind him.

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked.

"In case you hadn't noticed, I am very attracted to you."

"You barely know me."

"That's all right. We're neighbors now. I'll get to know you." He took a few steps toward me. "I'm studying to be an architect. Let me show you one more thing." He took my hand and led me to a window. "This balcony…" he continued, but I was aware only of his hands on my waist and his muscular body pressed against me.

He felt my breath grow heavier, and moved his hands up to my breasts, gently cupping and squeezing them as his words died away. Just then, we heard footsteps, and the door opened. Aidan smiled as he saw London step quickly away.

"Come, Calista, I want to introduce you to my partner before you leave." I followed him out the door, glancing back at London, who grinned and waved as I left.

***

A couple of days later, the men arrived to install my hot tub. It became clear that the noise would prevent me from working, and since Annie was there, I decided to go into town for lunch. I pulled up at a diner I'd noticed the first time I'd been to town, and as I took off my seat belt, I heard a whistle. Looking up, I saw Gray walking toward me. "Now that has always been a really nice car," he grinned, opening the door for me, "But it's damn sexy with you in it."

"Hello, Gray," I said.

He pulled me in for a hug. "Is that any way to greet a neighbor?" I slipped my arms around him and squeezed gently. "Now that's better. What are you doing in town?"

I explained about the hot tub and that I was getting lunch. "Damn," he said. "A poet and a hot tub? Now I definitely have to come over. Let me buy you lunch."

As we got to know each other better, I found myself more and more attracted to Gray. He was funny, good looking, and very smart—and best of all, he seemed very attracted to me. When at the end of lunch, he kissed me gently on the lips, I didn't try to pull away. I smiled as I got into my car and waved goodbye.

***

Often, when I'm alone, I like to walk around naked. That evening was no exception. After Annie left, the air was still muggy, so I dropped my clothes in a pile, put a Sade cd in my stereo, poured a glass of wine, and made my way out to my new hot tub. I was just beginning to feel the wine when I heard someone ascending the steps of the deck. I opened my eyes, and London grinned down at me. There was nothing for me to cover myself with, so I just lay there and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Just came to visit," he said. "Here, let me pour you more wine." He took my glass over to the outdoor bar and refilled the glass. He poured himself a glass and walked back over to me. "Here." I took the glass. "Mind if I join you?" Without waiting for an answer, he pulled his shirt off, revealing a muscular stomach and chest. "Thanks," he said, and I just watched, open mouthed, as he pulled his shorts down. Stepping out of them, he turned toward the tub and started to get in, stark-naked. He had one of the biggest cocks I had ever seen. He grinned and took a sip of his wine.

"Well…" I said.

"Yeah," he murmured, floating in the middle of the tub, just in front of me. "Hot."

I reached out and ran my fingers across his chest, then down his abs. He moved a little closer to me as my hand moved down to his cock. "Mmm…" he moaned as I wrapped my fist around it and began stroking it slowly. He leaned in and kissed me gently, then stood up. He sat on the edge of the hot tub, his legs hanging in.

"Come here," he said, and I stood and walked toward him. "Damn," he said, his eyes on my small breasts, my flat stomach, my slim thighs, and, most of all, my shaved pussy. I knelt on the seat in front of him, lowering my lips to his enormous cock. "Oh, yeah," he said, his hands moving to take the clip out of my hair, then cradling the back of my head as I sucked him deep into my mouth. He was moaning and pushing his hips toward my mouth, and I pulled back.

"I can't deep throat you from this angle," I told him.

"Well, let's find one that you can," he grinned. I stood up and got out of the tub, and he slapped my ass as I did. I grinned and took his hand, leading him in to the living room. I lay down on the floor, instructing him to kneel above me, his hands on the floor above my head.

He slid his cock back into my mouth and began humping my mouth, sliding all the way down my throat. After a few more minutes, he began spewing cum deep into my throat, not pulling all the way out until he was done. I licked him clean after he collapsed at my side, and he began to get hard again almost immediately. I started to slide on top of him, but he stopped me.

"Not yet," he said, standing up. I stood beside him, and he held me close to him, kissing me deeply, his hands roaming all over my body. He led me back to the hot tub and sat me on the side, much as he had sat earlier. He slid into the water, placing my legs over his shoulders, and as his hands pinched and squeezed my breasts, his tongue began lapping at my dripping pussy.

"Mmm I love that you're shaved," he moaned into my clit. I moaned in reply as he sucked my clit into his mouth. His right hand left my breast and moved down to my pussy. Dipping it in the water, he then slid his middle finger into me.

"Ohhh…" I moaned, moving my hips against his face and hand.

I felt him grin as he slid another finger into me. "Mmm you're so tight," he said, increasing the pace of his finger fucking.

"More…" I moaned, but he pulled his hand away, sitting up and grabbing my hips.

"I want you," he said, pulling me into the water and kissing me roughly. He pulled me with him as he moved to sit on one of the seats, sucking my breast into his mouth as he positioned me above him.

I reached down and spread my pussylips as he pushed upward gently, looking for the right spot, and, finding it, he pushed my hips down as he thrust upward into me.

"Ohhhhh," I groaned loudly, my head falling back. He bit my neck gently as his hands moved me up and down his cock. The water splashed over onto the deck as we rocked together roughly, my nipples hard as they brushed up and down his chest.

My hands clung to his shoulders as he pounded into me, and soon I felt him start cumming in me. I moaned loudly and his mouth closed on a breast, and I began to shake violently.

After a few moments, I collapsed against him, and his arms slid around me as we breathed heavily. We laughed and drank a little more wine, and soon he got dressed and left.

12
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