The Road to Redemption

Chapter 1 A Successful Day

John Mason turned his BMW into the driveway. A press of the button on his dashboard and the iron gates swung open, as did the left hand garage door.

Yes, he thought, it looks pretty good. Four bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms, two garages and a rumpus room and pool out the back. It looked immaculate and that new grass on the front lawn was coming along well. Only one thing, that blasted gum tree in the corner, was still dropping leaves. He would have to rake them up. Why can’t the bloody thing drop leaves at one time of the year, rather than all year round, he quizzed himself?

John liked things perfect. From his tailor made suits to crisp white business shirts, smart ties, polished shoes and of course his immaculately kept Beema. Yes, John was a very smart man.

Still not to worry too much about the leaves, he had had a particularly good day, having offloaded a property for $5 million and was feeling pretty pleased with himself.

Into the garage, another press of the button and the gates and garage door swung shut.

“Hi Hon, I’m home.”

“In the kitchen,” came the reply.

John placed his expensive leather briefcase with the embossed initials J.W.M. (John William Mason) neatly next to the staircase and hung his coat carefully over the banister, so as not to crush it.

Audry was standing over the stove. He gave her a peck on the cheek.

“What's cooking Hon?”

“Lamb roast, how was your day?”

“Great, I finally got rid of that Wilson property.”

“That's good Hon.”

That's good John thought to himself. That's bloody marvelous and all she can say is  “That's good”.

He had been trying to sell the Wilson property for six months and had finally swung the deal. As usual the seller wanted too much and the buyer wanted to pay too little. As usual, as a real estate salesman, he was stuck in the middle and could not get his commission, until it was sold. Although he had made a few bucks on the advertising budget, by charging the seller a bit more than it cost him, that was chicken feed compared to his 2% commission.

It had been a particularly difficult negotiation, with the seller’s and buyer’s wives both digging their heels in. Finally it had got down to a $10,000 difference between the offer and the price the seller was prepared to take. But still both wives would not give an inch. How bloody stupid could they be arguing over $10,000 on a $5 million property? The commission might be good, but these people with a bit of money were much harder to deal with, than the young couples he used to deal with in the early days, buying and selling cheap units.

Finally he had rung both husbands at work. He told the buyer’s husband that this was a particularly good investment and would go up faster than the rest of the market in the future and perhaps he could see that better than his wife. He then told the seller’s husband that the property had been on the market for six months, was getting stale and there was only one buyer. If he could make his wife see reason, they could finally sell their home and move on with their lives. It worked. The buyers upped their offer by $5000 and the sellers accepted.

He looked at Audry standing over the stove, as these thoughts flashed through his mind. She was now in her late 30’s, but much of her beauty had faded. After two children she had put on a bit of weight. A bit of weight he thought, no a shit load of weight.

She had been a trophy wife, tall, beautiful with ample firm tits and from a wealthy family into the bargain. Not that Audry’s father George liked John. He had told her not to marry him, as he saw John as an upstart from the wrong side of town, who was only after the money. There was more than a grain of truth to this, as John had started as a gardener and later worked his way up in real estate, from handling rentals, to selling cheap properties, then finally into his own agency, selling multi million dollar properties. He was certainly a goer, never satisfied, always looking for more.

On the other hand Audry was content with her lot in life. She had a beautiful home, a handsome husband and two nice kids, even if Claire the eldest was now 16 and growing tall and gangly, while Sam who was eight, was a bit small for his age. Audry’s life was pretty full, what with dropping the kids off at school, tennis with her girlfriends on Thursdays, the book club once a month on Fridays and soccer with Sam and netball with Claire on Saturdays. The rest of the time was spent doing housework. John demanded the house be kept spotless and she was not one to disobey. In fact if she could admit it to herself she was actually a bit scared of John, for beneath that smooth exterior she sensed a certain deep rage, that occasionally showed itself through a biting remark, when something wasn’t to his liking.

“Where are the kids Hon?” asked John

“Sam's in his room on the computer and Claire's over the road at Susie’s house.”

“He’s always on that bloody computer, why doesn’t he get out and run around, like I used to when I was a kid?”

“Well he does have his soccer on Saturdays and training on Thursday nights,” she gently reminded him.

“OK, I’ll be in the living room,” said John curtly, as he turned out of the kitchen.

He opened the drinks cabinet and poured himself a Glenlivet Scotch. Only the best these days, not like the cheap whisky he used to drink in the old days.

He poured a good double nip. What the heck. It was Friday and he had finished the week off with an excellent sale. He tipped in another good nip.

He pushed back into his cream leather lounge, shoes off, with his scotch on the side table. Yes he had done well considering those bloody rich people he was forced to deal with. He had found the buyer’s wife particularly dislikable. Like him she was an upstart, a frumpy middle-aged woman who treated her husband like he was her slave. Fancy being married to that witch he thought, no wife of mine would talk to me like that. Anyway, she had probably paid $200,000 more than the property was worth, so he had had his revenge on her.

He looked around the room. Not bad, but his next home was going to be bigger and have a tennis court as well as a pool.  Not that he could play tennis. It was however a status symbol to have a tennis court and Audry’s father George had one. This would do for now, but John was never satisfied, always on the move, always looking for more.

He was still admiring his home, when he suddenly the front door swung open. In came his daughter Claire with Susie from over the road. Claire was now much taller than Susie, but that Susie wow!

“Hi Dad.”

“Hello Mr. Mason.”

There was something about that hello from Susie, that was very sexy and provocative.

Susie like Claire was 16, but not at all gangly. He marveled at her picture perfect face, her long dark brown hair and perfect olive skin.  She was standing right in front of him now, in her shorty, shorty hot pants.  Her tits were now starting to grow and he could see her nipples through her loose thin blouse. She wasn’t wearing a bra and probably needed to now.

“Hello girls, what have you two been up to?” he asked unconsciously staring at Susie's tits.

“Just hanging out Dad,” answered Claire.

John looked away and picked up his scotch. He had suddenly become aware he was staring at Susie’s tits and sensed she was also aware of it.

“Susie and I are just going up to my room.”

“OK see you later.”

John watched them as they walked away. He kept staring at Susie’s tight little arse from behind. She had already mastered the art of sexy movement as she walked. Just wiggling it enough to be a turn on. He felt a movement in his groin area.

Wow, what a fuckable piece of crumpet that Susie had become. To think that in a few years time some pimply, smelly, fumbling teenage twit, was going to be all over that lovely tight little body.

He took a big gulp of his scotch. Yeah, that's one sexy little chick.

He sat there for a while thinking. He would have to return that rake to Susie’s mother Alice and buy a new one for himself. He had meant to stop at the hardware store on the way home to buy one, but was too busy thinking about the sale he had made and had forgotten. Anyway he would have to rake up those pesky leaves before returning it. He was just about to get up and pour another scotch when he heard a sexy, almost whispering voice.

“Mr. Mason, Claire’s yo yo has a knot in it. Can you get it out?” said Susie, who was standing right in front of him.