Fell for It - Sex Stories

Fell for It

"And what would be the price if I paid cash?"

Vince Jacobs nearly gagged on his beer. He'd recognized who he was dealing with as soon as Chaz Nelson walked into the Rail Pub in oldtown Savannah, Georgia, for their meeting about the oceanfront property on Tybee Island. He knew Nelson was a young pro tennis player. But he wasn't first tier. How much did second- and third-tier tennis pros make? Vince wondered.

"I'll have to call Mr. Hopkins for that figure. It wouldn't be anything less than a million, though, I'm sure." Jacobs was trying to call the young man off calling Hopkins and embarrassing them all. The asking price for the small oceanfront house on Tybee Island to the south of Savannah was $1.2 million. The house itself was a 1,000-square foot fixer upper. The value was in the waterfront lot in an upscale ocean resort. Even at $1.2 million, a buyer probably would be interested in knocking the house down and building a mansion. Nelson had indicated a house that small was fine with him.

"Who is Mr. Hopkins?" Nelson asked.

"He's the head of Peach State Homes, the Realty company handling the property."

"Yes, then please call him."

"I'll go to the head when I do so, if you don't mind." Jacobs would want to let Hopkins know who they were dealing with and he'd prefer doing it out of the young tennis player's hearing.

While he was gone Nelson went over the transaction in his mind. Did he still want to do this? The money wasn't the issue. He'd done well ...

... during the last two seasons on the pro circuit, although he'd gotten a late start, having played collegiate tennis for two years before going pro. He'd only won a couple of minor tournaments, but he'd made it to round two in two majors, which paid very well. Most of the money had come endorsements. Major companies, in pursuing political correctness, sponsored him because he was openly gay--and extremely photogenic.

He languished in the high thirties in ranking, but considering how many were trying to make it as pros, that was good. He'd put half his earnings aside for two years to buy someplace he could call home. He'd been surprised when he'd seen the Tybee Island property listing. He was interested for nostalgic purposes.

When Jacobs came back, he said, "For cash, we could let the property go for one million. It' $1.2 million if financed, with $200,000 up front to the seller. But I want to be sure that you understand that it's small and needs a lot of work. The value is in the lot. There's no need to go out there and inspect it if you know up front it's not what you want."

"I understand. I'm still interested. Who is the seller?" Was it Marty? Marty had been his first tennis coach. That's how Chaz knew about the property already. He'd been there before. But Marty was in prison now, incarcerated for how he'd messed around with the young male tennis players he'd coached, one of whom committed suicide, which brought it all into the public spotlight. And from what Chaz had ...