1. Wilson House visit


    Date: 11/2/2017, Categories: Hardcore, Author: Lanyx, Rating: , Source: LushStories

    are just right for the setting sun to reflect of the water. We hear a distant jet ski on this three-quarter mile wide body of inland water. Off to our left, we find a gaggle of about four geese in the park. We are so mesmerized that the car behind needs to give a short hoot to get us moving off the stop line. We continue at a slow speed onward. A short distance away, the road makes a sharp 90-degree right corner. There is a high wall painted a peach brown color ahead. We notice a small sign with a crooked arrow, with caption “Wilson House”. We follow that arrow onto a paved driveway, off to the left. The driveway awkwardly encroaches into the park, going around the corner of the property. The driveway makes a sharp right itself; it skirts the edge of the lake, and hides us behind some densely populated shrubs. “Good Evening Sir. Good Evening Ma’am,” we get greeted. I try not to giggle, but the best way to describe the security guard is as a gorilla stuffed into a tuxedo. He is 6’ 6”, heavily muscled, cleanly shaven short spiky blond hair. “I need your clearance code, and personal identification please,” the guard politely requests. Susan rummages through her handbag and passes her ID to me. I dive into my wallet handing over my driver’s licence. “Whiskey, Tango, Two …” I spell out the 7 or 8 digit access code for the guard, reading it off my mobile telephone. The guard checks his clipboard, as I notice his name tag captioned 'Andrei'. “Welcome to Wilson House Mr Newman, Ms ...
    Smith,” Andrei replies with a warm smile, whilst returning our documents. “Please park in garage number three,” Andrei instructs us, as he signals for the heavy metal gates to be opened by another guard. Gingerly we drive in. The paved path is only wide enough for a single vehicle with a 5-foot hedge on the left side, deliberately blocking the view of whatever is behind. On our right, we have their 7-foot perimeter wall. We make our way past the exit gate, which has its own driveway. The hedges open up to a small plaza and we get our first view of the small mansion. We find our garage quite easily. The door is already open for us. We pull in, and the door closes behind us. “Wow. This is exclusive!” Susan comments stunned while looking at me. My facial expression is also of stunned surprise. I expected something more, let’s say, industrial. The garage has definitely been rebuilt to accommodate large, luxury cars. A tuxedo-dressed hunk opens Susan’s door for her. He courteously offers her his hand to help her exit the vehicle. Susan definitely plays along and accepts this 5-star treatment. He introduces himself as Michael. There is also a lady in dressed in a stylish evening dress. I guesstimate her age at around 30; her body is still beautifully slim. They don’t look anything like two whore-house employees. It’s more like an ambassador’s cocktail party. “Welcome to Wilson House, Mr Newman and …” our female host realizes that she doesn’t have my date’s name. “… Miss Smith,” Susan ...
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