Page 17 of The Facilitator, Part 3

He sighed. “The market is just slow at the moment, particularly for such high-end in this area,” he said.

I pulled a card from my wallet and handed it to him. He read. “Why hasn’t it sold?” I asked, again and he chuckled.

“There was an issue in planning, hence the reason there is a no divide between the gardens. That had to be resolved and, for this money, a shared garden isn’t attractive unless you’re buying them both,” he said.

As a venture capitalist, someone who invested money in property as well as businesses, I knew he’d given me a standard realtor answer and I’d wanted the truth.

“Can we access the planning portal still?” I asked, wanting to know the clause that forbade two gardens. It was an odd one, for sure. “And I’d want all the plans and permits,” I added.

“I don’t know about the portal. I’m not sure how long details stay on there once completed, but I have all the planning permission and original drawings,” he said.

“Okay, email those over to me.”

We walked around, out to the terrace and then back in. On the top floor, the one above, it was all master bedroom, dressing room, en suite, and a small sitting room. I smiled as Lauren raised her eyebrows at me in that room. A sitting room would be a waste, a playroom more fitting .

Under the main living space were three further bedrooms, all en suite and the basement housed a gym and pool. There was a garage for six cars, although I suspected that was meant to be shared.

We took a walk to the second house. Although smaller it was laid out the same. Instead of four bedrooms, it was three but all were a great size.

My only problem with the whole development was that it wasn’t family friendly if you had young kids.

There was a whole floor that would divide parents from their children.

I brought that up as another reason they might not have sold.

The agent nodded, confirmed that had been mentioned before.

What the properties did, however, was confirm we wanted to move.

“As much as I love it, I’m not sure,” Lauren said when we stepped outside. We stood and looked up at the building.

“I think it can be altered. There’s no need for such a large terrace off that master bedroom.

Some of that space could be an additional two bedrooms. Or, the master moves downstairs.

It has possibilities,” I said, the agent, realizing the excitement was waning a little, nodded enthusiastically.

“Or we could knock them down and rebuild,” I added. He looked aghast.

Land was not only at a premium in that area, but rarely came up for sale. I had no doubts the plot would have held two to four properties prior .

“I do love the location,” Lauren said, sighing.

“Okay, Jim, give us some time to wander around alone,” I said and he nodded. He sat in his car, and we toured again.

“I think you’re right, there are possibilities,” Lauren said, as we looked at the bedroom issue. “And if we had teens, this would be ideal, a whole floor to shield us from them,” she added, laughing.

When Lauren spoke about children, my stomach flipped.

We left with promises to call the following day. We took a slow drive back.

Lauren stood naked in our bedroom. She’d showered and had a towel around her head. I walked in and pulled the towel off. I ran my hands through her hair, shaking it loose. I picked up the remote and switched on the cameras, I turned Lauren so she could see herself in the television.

“Oh,” she said, before I covered her lips with my fingers. I walked her to the ottoman at the end of the bed and she sat. She parted her legs and smirked. I pulled off my T-shirt and slipped out of my jeans. I lay on the bed. We could see ourselves in the television screen.

I wrapped my hand around my cock and slowly massaged myself. She loved to watch me do that. “Pleasure yourself,” I whispered.

I watched her fingers part her lips and swipe over her opening.

She parted her legs as far as they would go and tilted her hips forward.

As much as I liked her hairless pussy, I love it more so then.

I could see everything I needed to. The wetness seeped from her and she spread it with her fingertips, teasing her clitoris at the same time.

The sound of suction and wetness echoed around the room.

The scent of her filled my nostrils and I breathed in harder, wanting more.

My mouth watered at the smell and muscle memory recalled the taste on my tongue.

My hand slowly slid up and down my cock, over the head and spreading my precum.

I wanted more lubricant, however. I spat into my palm and that aroused her further. She gasped and inhaled quickly.

When she slid two fingers inside herself, it was my turn to gasp.

I could see each inch of skin coated with her juices as she pumped in and out.

She hooked her fingers, stroking, reaching for her G-spot.

I leaned over to the cabinet and opened the door.

We had an array of toys and a G-spot stimulator was one of them.

I threw it to the end of the bed and within reach for her.

She had no need to look, she could see what I’d given her.

She reached for it. I watched her remove her fingers and run them over the soft silicone before switching it on.

First, she ran it over herself, using her own lubricant.

The buzz changed sound when she inserted it inside her, as did the gasps that left her mouth.

She moaned and writhed, but all the while she watched both herself and me.

I crawled to my knees behind her. I yanked hard, feeling the veins on my cock and the ridges as my hand held tightly.

I could see a sheen of sweat coat my chest and the flush to hers.

I watched her orgasm. I saw things that I hadn’t before. I saw how her clitoris would swell and vibrate slightly as her orgasm built. How her inner thighs would quiver. She slid the stimulator from her and replaced it with her fingers as she worked her orgasm from herself.

I was desperate; I leaned over and took her arm, raising her hand to my mouth. She leaned slightly to one side so she could see all of me. As I came, as I spurted cum over her back and into her hair, I sucked her orgasm from her fingers.

“Fuck, Lauren,” I said, squeezing every last drop from my cock.

She chuckled. “Well, that was different.”

I laughed and flopped back onto the bed. She crawled over me, lying on my front and I wrapped my arms around her, smearing my cum farther.

She kissed my neck gently, licking across my chin and to my lips.

She tasted my sweat, and gyrated gently against me until my cock was hard again.

She sat up, turned so she was facing the television, and guided my cock inside her.

I propped myself on my elbows and watched her ride me.

I saw my cock slide in and out of her pussy, slick and glistening with her previous orgasm.

I parted my legs a little and she reached for my balls.

I let my head fall back and closed my eyes.

I didn’t need to watch any more, I just needed to feel, smell, and absorb all the sensations.

I was making a coffee when Lauren joined me. We’d both showered again and I’d left her to dry her hair. She joined me wearing sleep shorts and a tank top.

“Do you want one?” I asked.

“No, that stuff will have me awake all night.”

I raised my eyebrows and frowned. “Is that a bad thing?” I asked, laughing.

She shook her head and smiled. “I guess not, except I have an early meeting,” she said.

I kissed her forehead. “Tea, then?” and she nodded.

We sat for a half hour on the terrace in the backyard. “Slightly different view to Broadstairs,” I said, looking at a brick wall and then another multi-million pound property behind that.

“What do you want to do?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I loved the location; it’s within a reasonable travel to London. As you said, the configuration could do with some work, but that’s minor. If not for us, they might make me money as high-end holiday rentals. I’ll have to do some research,” I replied .

“I loved them. The more I think about it, that sitting room could be a nursery. We could redevelop that floor to section off that room and add a new door to the hall.”

She seemed excited by the prospect.

“Do you want to buy them?” I asked.

“It’s a lot of money,” she said.

“It’s less than this is worth,” I added. Our home was worth over ten million.

“Really? Blimey,” she said, and then laughed.

“Call him, tell him we want them both but for eight mill. See what he says,” I said, pushing my phone toward her.

“You call,” she said, sliding the phone back.

“Lauren, call him.” One thing I’d notice that annoyed me was how Jim deferred to me constantly. He was dumb; selling those properties should have been to my wife. The female, if there was one, of course, was always to best to get on your side first.

She bit down on her lower lip and dialed.

“Hello, this is Mrs. Miller. I’d like to make an offer on the two properties,” I heard.

She paused. “Mr. Miller isn’t here, doesn’t need to be here, as I’m more than capable of making an offer.

You can accept it now, or not since, if you don’t, I’ll move on to an agent willing to. ”

I gave her a wink, loving her sass. That was the very reason I’d told her to call.

“That’s great. I’d like to offer eight million for the two.

” She paused and listened. “Wonderful, get back to us and let us know,” she said, then replaced the handset.

She covered her mouth with her hands and stamped her feet quickly.

“Oh my fucking God, I might have just spent eight million pounds of your money!” she laughed.

“Our money, Lauren,” I corrected and laughed with her.

Even after we’d climbed into bed that evening, she still chuckled and repeated that she spent eight million pounds on one phone call.

I was loathed to tell her that the developer might not take that offer, even though it was a good one.

Normally, I’d go in lower and let them bid me up.

I didn’t want the hassle; I didn’t want to waste the time.

If we were going to rebuild, I wanted that done before any fertility treatment started.

Annoyingly, the offer was refused. I gave Lauren the instruction not to up our offer. The properties had been up for sale for a while and I had no doubt they’d come back to us at some point. We left the offer on the table for a month.