Page 16 of The Facilitator, Part 3

Chapter Nine

I want to fuck you in my new Bentley. I want you to come right there on this seat.

I sent the text and laughed. I stood on our driveway after taking delivery of two new cars. Lauren was at work. I had the roof down on one and I took a photograph of the passenger seat.

I signed for the cars and then wandered back into the house. I received a reply.

My list no. 2 – I want you to fuck me in a Bentley on the beach.

Mmm, she’d upped the ante a little but that was more than doable. I started to plan.

It had been two days since my appointment with Sam and I hadn’t heard anything since. The postal system in the UK was way better than in the US, but I had to appreciate he had more than one client. I was eager for the second appointment.

I kept thinking back to the conversation I had with Lauren.

She’d reiterated that it might not work, she might not be a candidate for IVF, and I hoped that was her preparing for the worst, and not wishing for it.

I’d done nothing but think about it since my meeting.

Despite my promise not to, I had contacted my lawyer.

If Sam was correct, something could have been done for me when I was a teen and I didn’t want those same mistakes to happen again.

I knew, deep down, it was because the small-town police just wanted me arrested and my father-in-law, after discovering his daughter could be implicated, had stopped that.

He hadn’t done that because he thought highly of me, he’d done it simply to save his daughter.

She was the one who spiked my drink with vodka, so she’d confessed.

A bout of anger balled in my stomach. I gulped down a coffee to dilute that.

I wasn’t going there, not after all these years.

Lauren. Think of Lauren and our future, not the past. I’d been doing that for two days and it was hard to move forward. I thought, by passing the problem to my lawyer I might get it out of my head. It wasn’t working as quickly as I wanted.

Thankfully, the distraction I needed arrived that morning.

A delivery driver buzzed at the gates and I let him in.

He handed me the parcel I’d been waiting for.

I smiled as I took it to the bedroom. I opened the box and took out the small cameras.

I sat on the bed and looked around, wanting to be sure on positioning.

They’d need to be high, I thought, I studied a mirror mounted on the wall opposite the bed.

I read through the instructions and connected the cameras by Wi-Fi to the television.

Soon enough I was watching myself. I moved around the bed, making sure that all angles could be captured.

It wasn’t a recording device, it wouldn’t save any of the images, but play them in real time.

I wanted to watch Lauren come. I wanted to see the emotions that crossed her face and I wanted her to see that as well. Our own version of porn, I chuckled.

I’d surprise her with it later.

I sat in my home office and finally did some work.

Alex had sent some proposal for further consolidation in the US.

He felt there were two manufacturing companies that could share the one workspace as they complemented each other.

Most of the manufacturing I invested in was in the automobile industry.

It just happened that was what my father was involved in.

I thought on him, then. He had died a little while ago, leaving me to discover my half sister by letter.

It was a shitty thing to do and I still struggled to forgive him for that.

More so because his children could have had a longer relationship.

He was yet another adult in my life who made a decision to deny me something. I vowed I’d never be that same person.

I shook my head of the thought. Manufacturing, that was what I needed to concentrate on.

I ran through the figures, it was tempting.

It would mean putting some out of work but we’d look at those close to retirement first. I hated putting people out of work, I remembered back to what life was like for my family.

However, it was a necessary evil and we always made sure we tried to relocate or offered a severance package.

I found it difficult to concentrate, no matter how much I tried. Perhaps another cup of coffee would help.

I took the soft top Bentley to collect Lauren from work.

I was excited to drive it, of course, and before we headed home, we detoured.

I floored the engine as we headed for the coast. It wasn’t to fulfill her wish, it would be too busy for that, but simply to enjoy the vehicle.

In addition, there was a restaurant I wanted to investigate.

I’d seen details of The Lobster Shack online and the thought of sitting on the beach eating lobster appealed.

“Oh, this is lovely,” Lauren said as we walked in. The restaurant didn’t accept reservations and I was hoping, since it was still early, we’d get a table easily enough, especially one of the outdoor ones overlooking the beach and sea.

Local fisherman caught all the lobster and oysters, I read. I ordered both. I didn’t believe in oysters as an aphrodisiac, I didn’t need one. I enjoyed the taste and I wanted Lauren to.

When the oysters came, she was hesitant at first. I squeezed a little lemon juice and held one to her lips. I cupped her chin as she tilted back her head and I poured.

“Just hold it in your mouth for a moment and then swallow,” I said, she nearly spat it out laughing.

She screwed her nose and forehead up and shook her head. “Swallow,” I said and laughed with her. She finally did.

“That is more unpleasant than swallowing your…your…you know what,” she whispered, wiping her mouth and then taking a large gulp of wine.

“You mean my cum is unpleasant?” I said, batting my eyelids innocently at her.

“Shush!” she said, looking around and chuckling. “And yeah, it’s not the nicest thing to eat,” she added.

“Why do it then?” I asked, genuinely perplexed.

“Because you love it,” she replied, simply. “Let me try another.”

I laughed as I fed her one more. That time, she cocked her head and frowned. Perhaps they were growing on her. We ate and we drank, and then we sat on the beach with take-out coffee. She wore a business suit, I was in jeans, and we must have looked an odd couple.

“We’re definitely going to get a holiday home somewhere,” she said.

“Or move?”

“Or move,” she added.

I showed her the image I’d found of a house in Broadstairs. It was clifftop, modern architecture, just built, in fact, and one of two on a large plot.

“Not sure about having neighbors,” she said. It looked to be a shared garden.

“We’d buy them both,” I replied, thinking one could be for Gabriella and Alex when they returned.

“Wouldn’t that be a waste of money?” she asked.

“Property investment is never a waste of money and I want to fuck you on that clifftop and not have the neighbors watching,” I said.

I didn’t have a problem with controlled viewings at the club, but anyone could buy that house and I didn’t want some sleazeball getting off while I fucked my wife. I chuckled; we hadn’t even really looked at the house. I smiled and made a call.

“Hi, I’m in the area and I want to look at the clifftop property,” I said. Lauren shook my arm and smiled, nodding. “Now, if possible. As I said, I’m in the area,” I added when asked when I’d like to view.

Each property was a little over five million and, from what I could see of the listing, had been on the market a while. Of course, the agent jumped at the chance, even though I suspected he’d be heading home. He wanted a ton of details before we could meet, including my financial position.

“If my wife likes them, I’d want to buy them both,” I said, not giving him a breakdown of what was in my bank accounts. More so, because unless I spoke to my accountants I didn’t know. It changed every day with interest and investment movements.

I guess it satisfied him and we agreed to meet in a half hour.

“Let’s have a drive around the area,” Lauren said.

We found the golf course, not that I would be interested in that, some really nice residential areas and restaurants.

There were good train links, not that I traveled on public transport but Lauren suggested we should train into London.

I shook my head at that. I couldn’t imagine anything worse than a packed commuter train in the height of summer, or winter even.

In fairness, to get to Canary Wharf from outside London would take the same time as getting to it from just the other side.

Since we were driven, the journey wasn’t of consequence to me .

We pulled through an electric gate and took the left drive as instructed. We pulled up outside a white, with gray steel windows, framed building. An agent stepped out of his car and I caught the look of admiration for mine.

“That’s the new model, isn’t it?” he asked and I nodded. “I didn’t think it was out yet.”

He obviously knew his vehicles. “Technically, it’s released for sale tomorrow, but I was fortunate to get mine early,” I said. “Now, how do we get in?” I asked.

The agent led us around the side of the building and in through the largest front door I’d ever seen. Not just in height, but width, and I wondered how easy that would be to push closed.

We stepped into a bright and airy hallway, one side lined with glass and through to a staircase that wrapped around an elevator.

“We’ll start upstairs,” he said.

All the living space was on the second of four floors, open plan and with a large balcony.

The view was stunning, sea for miles and miles on either side.

Lauren ignored his call to look at the kitchen, instead I walked over to it.

There’d be some things I’d want to change but it was brand-new and fully functioning.

“The development was completed a year ago,” he told us.

“Why haven’t they sold?” I asked .