The Architect's Daughter

Reed drove up the mountain road wondering if he had made a mistake. This was not an easy place to find. Five times he had tried to follow the directions, and five times he had failed. The voice on the telephone had said to take the fork in the road by the cabin, but there were only two cabins it could have been and there was no visible fork near either. He passed a large lake on his left, beautiful in that it had mountains climbing out the other side. As he rounded the bend at the top of the hill, he seemed to pull in to a surrealist painting.

Among the forest, mountains and sky was what looked to be a lot out of Suburbia. An architecturally stunning geodesic dome with a well manicured lawn stood in the middle of nowhere. This had to be it. He pulled his old International Scout up to the front door, under the second-story deck that doubled as a large carport, and parked. There were no other cars anywhere, so he knew it was empty. He retrieved his window washing equipment from the back of the scout. It was his trade secret. Since he started washing the windows of the homes he photographed, he had cornered all the real estate listing pictures for a three county area.

Reed was a stocky man about five feet ten inches tall. He was dark, with haunting dark eyes. His expression was one of always knowing more than he let on. He liked to start with the highest windows and work his way down. The highest one on this house was over the deck/carport. He put his ladder against the railing and proceeded to climb. When he stepped over the railing he was astounded by the view. He wanted to stay on this deck and watch this beautiful world forever. After a long lustful look around, he got back to business. He screwed the squeegee top on the telescoping rod. He grabbed the special spray bottle, squirted a healthy blue stream at the glass, then ignored the complaints of the squeegee as he dragged it, protesting loudly, against the newly cleaned window.

After doing the top window, he brought the telescoping rod together for doing the sliding glass doors leading out on to the deck. As he walked towards the nearest door pane he saw movement along the other side. He turned his head to see a naked woman with a towel draped around her head walking from the far end of the glass towards him. About half way she looked up and saw him. She made no attempt to cover herself and began smiling broadly. She came to the door, opened it, and hung the top half of her body out the doorway.

“Hello. I’m Lola.” She said warmly.

“Um…er…Hi. Uh…Reed.” Was all Reed could muster.

Her smile broadened, “Come in, come in.” She backed up enough to make room for him to pass. He looked at her smile. He tried not to look at anything else. Resistance was futile. He took a quick look at her legs. They were very attractive, very feminine, yet strong and toned. Her hips were not very round, but seemed very feminine just the same. Her stomach was fantastic. Her breasts were happy and attentive. Her arms were strong and fleshy. Her neck was long and beautiful. Her smile was better than the view from the deck. Reed realized she would stay there until he entered or refused. Sheepishly, he entered, very careful not to brush her nakedness on the way by. She grabbed his arm and put her face very close to his, “You go downstairs to the kitchen and have a seat. I’ll dress and be right down to make us some tea and scones.”

Obediently, Reed went downstairs and found a kitchen chair. He could not think, so he stared at the kitchen cabinets. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the cabinets, yet he stared at them like there was a secret message in them that would save his life. After a few minutes Lola appeared. She was wearing a bright pink miniskirt and a very light pink top. The white wraparound spiked shoes she wore accentuated the beauty of her legs. Her stomach was framed wonderfully by the break between the top of the miniskirt and the bottom of the shirt. Her breasts, happy and attentive, did not need a bra, so none had been provided. But what had him unable to breathe was her beautiful wavy hair. It was perfect and radiant. Reed had stopped here and was stuck in time when she spoke again.

“You must be the photographer for the Realtor.” She seemed delighted he had studied her.

“That...that would be me.” He waved his hand stupidly.

She came over and stood in front of him, across the table, and put her elbows on the table. She leaned over as far as she possibly could and brought her face to the level of his. The side effect was to have her shirt hang below her breasts, exposing most of them, as he tried not to be too obvious with his look.

“I have loved this house ever since my father drew the plans. I have never wanted to live here, but I have always wanted to get laid here. I think the place is very sexy. Don’t you?”

“Honestly? I think a moldy cave would be sexy with you in that outfit standing in front of me, but, to answer your actual question, I would describe this place as very sexy.”

She giggled as if he had recited a very funny dirty joke.

“The window of opportunity for me to get laid here is closing. Would you mind doing me the honor of helping me live out my fantasy?” She reached out and grabbed his hands. She brought them up and kissed them. Then she extended one of his fingers and put it in her mouth. She tilted her head down so that she had to look through her eyebrows to see him.

“So, no tea and scones?” he said.

She gave a long belly laugh. “I like your style! Tea and scones first, decisions later.” She got busy about the kitchen making tea and heating a few scones.

“There are no cars.” Reed seemed to think that this was a complete sentence, and that she should understand it. He looked at her waiting for an answer.

“My uncle and I came up. He went back to town for a few days, and I am here alone until he gets back.”

“Um…”

“Ha, ha, ha. Don’t worry, he’s not due back until tomorrow night.”

“That doesn't give much time!” he said with mock seriousness.

“Somebody has an elevated view of themselves.” She said with great elation just under her breath.

“Well, things usually are all about motivation. I see a lifetime of motivation in front of me.”

“Then why the tea and scones first?”

“I need the energy.”

“Oh? Do you have a heart condition or something? Tell me about yourself.”

“My body is willful and ornery. My mind is crisp and keen. My personality is slow and cumbersome, but my spirit is indomitable and drop dead freakin’ gorgeous. Fortunately for you, my spirit runs the show in times of frolic.”

For a moment, she stopped breathing. Then she laughed. “Good story. Where did you read it?”

“For that, you will have to feed me tea and scones, and then go for a walk with me.”

“So, you mean to torture me? It is not that easy!”

“You consider a walk torture? I had no idea. I apologize.”

“No. Torture me with promises you cannot fulfill.” She looked serious for a moment. “You are not put off by my suggestion, are you?”


“I wish with all my heart that I am so put off daily, for the rest of my natural life.”

She giggled a bit and sipped her tea.

Reed was finally recovering from the shock of meeting Lola and the circumstances of her nakedness. Lola was thoroughly enjoying his discomfort, but was also enjoying his personality as he recovered and began to come out of his shell. He finished his tea, stood up, and extended his hand.

“I’m not quite done with my tea.” She said, though her cup was essentially empty.

“Yes you are.” He said, softly and warmly.

She studied the mischievous glint in his eye. She smiled demurely.

“I stand corrected.”

She stood, but instead of taking his hand, put her arms around him and kissed him. She beamed as his face showed he had not been prepared for that. She turned and walked briskly to the door.

Reed walked with purpose. He walked with wonder and awe. He walked with Lola. He could feel burning anticipation, and yet was unsatisfied. He wanted more. He didn't want the appetizer, he wanted the meal.

"I love stories." Lola began, "My dad used to tell me stories whenever we walked. He'd make up entire Kingdoms or alien races, just to tell me a story. Can you do that?"

"I don't know, but I will try." Reed said thoughtfully. Then he told this story:

B. John Dawkins was turning sixteen. He was the son of a wealthy plantation owner in Wilson, South Carolina. His father was the wealthiest man in the county. John knew that his father had gotten him a special present by how sly his smile had been all week.

As John washed for dinner, he was filled with anticipation. He could hardly eat. Then, just after desert, his father called him to the study.

"Son." His father began, "You are a man now. I am going to give you a gift you will remember for the rest of your life. I spent a month looking for it. I spent a fortune on it. I have had the guest house cleaned and stocked for you. I want you to spend the next week there. I absolve you of all your responsibilities for that time. You are not to work on the plantation or go into town for that entire week. Now, go to the guest house and find your present there."

This was fantastic! A week off to go fishing and lie in the grass on summer afternoons with no responsibility! This was the best present ever. He ran to the guest house. He couldn't imagine what his father could have left there for him. He slowed as he approached and stopped at the door to take a deep breath and compose himself. Then he entered.

Sitting there in a rocking chair was the most beautiful girl John had ever seen. She had the most beautiful face, the most perfect body. She stuck out her hand. John looked at her hand. It was beautiful. It took many seconds before he realized she was handing him a note. He took the note and read it.

"Son, this is your present. Your very first slave. I hope she makes your week off from work as wonderful as I expect. Love, Dad."

John's jaw dropped towards the floor. He looked at the girl again. He had not realized she was a slave the first time. Her complexion was light. Except for the broadness of her nose and the small curls of her hair, she looked like any other girl from his school. His heart raced. His mind did somersaults. He instinctively reached for her hand and led her to the bedroom, where he sat her on the bed. He stepped back and looked her over again. He looked at her eyes. She was looking at the floor. He snapped his fingers and she looked at him. His heart sank. This girl was terrified.

"Don't be afraid." he said, before he even realized he was speaking.

"No, massa." she instinctively replied, and looked again at the floor.

John was shocked. He had never thought of a slave as a person before. He wanted her to be a person and not to be a slave. Then he wanted that person to love him.

For the next hour he tried to explain that she should not be afraid. She did not understand. He tried to give her her freedom. She did not understand. The more he talked the more nervous she became. He was beginning to get frustrated, and the girl began to physically shake. He realized what was happening, and became quiet. He led her to the parlor and sat her on the sofa. He sat down next to her and began to speak.

"Have you ever played a game?"

"Yes, massa."

"Would you play a game with me?"

"Yes, massa."

"Good. In this game you are the mistress and I am the slave. I do whatever you ask. Are you ready to start?"

The girl looked like he had told her of a death in the family. John was undaunted. He dutifully came to her and asked if she would like something to eat. She trembled, then nodded. He went and fixed her something.

For three days he waited on her hand and foot. She said nothing but answered his questions. Finally, she asked him, "How long we gonna play dis game?"

"Are you tired of this game?" She nodded her head. "Then what would you like to do. If you could do anything you wanted right now, what would it be?" She simply looked at the floor.

John disappeared from the room for a second. Then he came back. He had a knife in his hand. He took the girl to the bedroom, put the knife in her hand, took off his shirt, and lay on the bed with his arms spread wide.

"Please, put the knife in my heart. Quickly, now!"

The girl looked at the knife. She set it gently on the nightstand. Then, for the first time she looked him in the eye without fear.

"Why?" she said.

"My dad thinks you can make me a man, just by being a girl and doing my bidding. I think my dad is wrong. I think that a man must be better than that. There is much more to life than getting your own way."

"What you want den?"

"I want you to love me. Of your own free will."

"Damn!" she smiled, "You done wasted three days. You had me at, "Don't be afraid."

She lay next to him and kissed his cheek.

With that, Reed and Lola had finished their walk and found themselves at the front door. Reed gestured Lola through the door first. She reached back and took his hand, then briskly walked through the house and up the stairs. As they reached the head of the stairs, they could see the light of the twilight sun playing upon the railing of the deck, making it seem to glow. Without a word, they opened the glass door and went outside. Reed walked behind Lola and took the front of her shirt and in a single motion removed and folded it. He placed it next to the door. Then he removed her skirt and panties, folding them neatly and placing them by the door.

He returned and put his finger in the middle of her chest and gently pushed. She did not resist and walked backwards a few steps, until she bumped the railing. Then the finger moved up underneath the chin, gently pushing the head back. Lola made a guttural growl as she arched her back over the railing. Reed, still fully clothed, leaned over and began kissing her chest. Lola opened her eyes to an exquisite upside-down world full of color and wonder. Reed began running his fingers over her back as he gently nibbled the underparts of her breasts. She tried to lean over a small amount to place a nipple on his lips, but his hands gently pushed her back. She groaned. Then laughed. His hands felt like little fingers of fire dancing about her body, burning here and there. Yet, the flames seemed to tickle more than hurt.

Reed stepped back and put a hand on her shoulder, turning her around until her back was against him. Then he tugged her hair until her face was by her right shoulder. He leaned in over her right shoulder and began to kiss her. Then he took his fingernails and ran them from her front thighs slowly up across her belly. Then across her breasts, still damp from saliva. The now damp fingers finally found their marks. Lola let out a huge sigh and muttered, "I hate you.". A dreamy smile radiating from her face. She reached one hand behind and wrapped it around his leg, the other up and around his head. They stayed like this for an indeterminate time, as such events are impossible to record in the normal way. Reed alternated his hands between her belly, thighs and nipples as if he was playing an instrument. Apparently, the music was beautiful to Lola. Who was humming along, perhaps in key, perhaps not, with such music, key is not important. Rhythm is important.

Reed's hands moved to her back and he pushed her forward. She put her hands upon the railing and he steeped back, removing his clothes.

"I may have to buy this house from daddy!" Lola breathed, almost inaudibly.

No sooner did Lola get the words out of her mouth when she was lifted completely off of the ground and spun in mid air. One strong hand was under each armpit. She was lifted and swung back, but she was very perceptive and raised her knees, so her feet would not hit the railing. When she swung forward again she wrapped her legs around Reed's ribcage. At first she was shocked at how high he had lifted her. Soon, she understood. He set her backside on the railing. She clasped her hands behind his neck, and he began to nibble at her breasts while tickling her everywhere he could reach. She let her head fall back and her hair hung down like the stingers from a Man 'O War swinging in the waves of the ocean. Her eyes glazed over. She glanced left and saw the sun glimmering off of the railing like it was covered in magic dust. She could feel that magic dust in her lungs every time she drew breath.

Judging by how tired her arms had gotten, this went on for quite some time. Lola was gasping for breath. Without warning Reed stood up, pulled her into him, and let her slide down, down, down. He was looking into her eyes. She was looking at infinity. Somewhere, she knew something wonderful had happened. She could not tell whether it was in this world or the next. Somewhere something was causing a flood, and the flood waters were washing away all of the dirt of a thousand years. She felt clean. Her breathing became deeper, like someone was doing it for her. She was thankful, for she had much to think about without concentrating on breathing.

Something deep within Lola made her focus upon her eyes. She realized she was looking at Reed's eyes. It was several seconds before she realized what she was seeing in Reed's eyes. It was not of this world. She saw love. Subtle, yet unmistakable, it hit her like a blast of frosty air on a sweltering Summer day. She took in the deepest breath of her life and sighed the most enjoyable moan. All she remembered after that was the flood waters, the breathing, hearing some wonderful screaming that she thought might have been hers, and Reed's eyes, always there, always loving.

She would never overestimate the tide again.