Chapter 14
Shannon knew by now that Mr. Martin was absolutely crazy about her. She knew also that he was a very rich man.
The young girl decided to make a move.
She was coming home from a game at school, wearing her cheer leading uniform, the short green skirt with inverted white pleats, green knee socks, white tennis shoes with green laces, and the tight white sweater with green trim.
She knew Mr. Martin would be outside. It was now his habit to see her as she passed from school. She stopped and said hello.
"Hello, Shannon," he smiled.
"Wanna do somethin'?" she teased, glancing at his bulging shorts.
"Of course, I do."
Shannon went in the house with him.
He kissed her, pulling her against his hard, masculine body, his hands fanning out over her skirt in the back, feeling her cupcake ass.
His big cock bulge pressed against her skirt in front. Shannon reached down and squeezed the man's huge cock through his nylon shorts.
"You like me a lot, huh?" she whispered.
"Yes, you know I do. I have for years. For years—ever since you were thirteen or fourteen, I've been crazy about you."
"Have you, really?"
"Yes. Is that wrong?"
"I don't think so."
"I bet I've masturbated over you thousands of times," he said.
"Whewwww, jeez! Really?"
"Yes. Let me show you something," Mr. Martin said.
He left the room and returned with a box. He opened it and out spilled hundreds of pictures. Shannon scanned through them.
"Gawd!" she gasped.
They were all pictures Mr. Martin had snapped from his bedroom window, all of Shannon out in the yard in shorts, photos of her bending over, raking, watering, sunbathing.
"Jeez, all of me over the past four or five years," she said.
"Yes, that's how much ... that's how much I love you, Shannon."
Shannon fingered through the pictures.
"You really are a dirty old man, Mr. Martin," she smiled. "This is why you never moved out of the neighborhood."
"I'm in love with you," he whispered. "Yes, that's the reason."
"Well, what are we gonna do about that?" Shannon asked.
"Me being in love with you?"
"Yes."
"I dunno, Shannon. What the hell are we gonna do?"
"You could marry me, Mr. Martin."
"I could? I mean ... you would? I mean marry me?"
"Sure—on a couple of conditions."
"Name them."
"You'd have to pay off all my mom's debts. My dad left her with a lot of bills. You'd have to pay the mortgage on our house, and you'd have to pay for my college."
"Done," Mr. Martin said.
Shannon was on a roll now. She knew she had him hooked.
"And I'd have to have spending money, too."
"Of course."
"Like, quite a bit."
"How much?" he asked.
"Oh, five hundred a week."
"No problem," he agreed.
"Could you put all that in writing? Kinda like a contract, sir?" Shannon ventured.
"Indeed I will."
He led Shannon to his office, sat down at his video screen and started typing. In fifteen minutes, he had finished.
Shannon read the document after it was printed out.
"That looks real official. You better sign it, Mr. Martin," she said.
He affixed his signature without hesitation.
"Well, I guess we've got a deal," she smiled.
"I should call a justice of the peace, have him come over so we can get married right now, okay?"
"Gee, right now?"
"Sure, is that all right?"
Shannon was as eager as he was to conclude the deal, the fine deal she had negotiated.
"Okay," she agreed.
Mr. Martin made a phone call, and they sat around discussing future plans for a half hour until a justice of the peace arrived.
He was taken back that a man near fifty was marrying a young girl in a cheerleading uniform, and he demanded to see Shannon's birth certificate. She went next door and came back with the paper to prove she was eighteen and legally able to marry.
The justice of the peace then pronounced them man and wife.
Shannon and Mr. Martin kissed, and the man left.
"Well, my dear, should we seal our pact with a good fuck?" Mr. Martin asked.
"I think that would be nice," Shannon said.
She stripped off her skirt and panties and lay down. Mr. Martin climbed on and shoved his cock into her little pussy.
"Ah, my sweet, darling wife," he whispered.
"One thing, Mr. Martin," Shannon said.
"Yes, what is it?"
"You gotta promise you won't fuck my mom anymore. I'm the real jealous type."
"That's a promise, angel."
"But we'll have her over for dinner and stuff a lot, huh?"
Mr. Martin pumped up and down.
"Indeed," he puffed.
"Okay then, fuck me! Fuck me good!" Shannon yelped.
He smiled, fucking the shit out of his sweet little wife. He realized she was quite proud of herself for having negotiated such a lucrative contract. He decided to let her keep thinking that, because he loved her.
The naive youngster would never know that it was the man who had set up the situation and done the negotiating. After all, he was getting a hell of a good deal. Few middle-aged men ever had the opportunity to experience all their wildest fantasies—and Shannon was making all of Dave Martin's wildest fantasies real for him. He would get his money's worth, and more.