“Take care of her?” said Winifred Hawkes-Holland as he opened the driver’s car door.
“Will do boss” Harry
replied giving his passenger a wry smile as he got behind the wheel.
“I’m not a child,”
Clare shouted petulantly out of the open window “and I don’t need babysitting”
It was certainly true
to say that Clare Hawkes was not a child, far from it.
No one who ever saw
the 25 years old would ever have described her as such, childish, possibly but
not a child.
After all Clare stood
an inch short of six feet tall which was evidence of adulthood in itself, but
if that didn’t convince you then her long legs, voluminous rolling hips and a
44” bust would.
No, Clare was not a
child, but her mother, as mothers always do, would always see her thus, but Winifred Hawkes-Holland wasn’t
merely Clare’s mother she was also her employer.
Holland brothers
bought and sold Antiques and collectables, a business that Winifred married
into and now Clare was going on her first solo-buying trip.
Well it would have
been her maiden solo trip but for the fact Harry
Mortimer was sent with her as a babysitter.
Harry had been with the Holland’s since he
left school and he was greatly trusted by Win, and as he was in his early forties and unremarkable looking and was to
all and sundry, average in all respects she trusted there would be no
shenanigans.
Suffice is to say
Winifred trusted her precious daughter was in safe hands.
On the journey up the
A1 Clare was still berating Harry on her mother’s distrust of her.
“It’s not that she
doesn’t trust you,” He said
“She doesn’t seem to
realise that I’m a grown woman,” she continued
“We are all aware you
are a grown woman” Harry said and after pause added
“Well aware”
Clare looked at him
and raised her eyebrows
“So, what have you
noticed?” she asked with amusement and Harry blushed to his roots under her
gaze
“Nnnnothing” he
stammered
“Come on Harry” she
pressed
“Just that I have
noticed that you are no longer a child” he replied
The rest of the journey
passed largely in silence with Clare admiring the countryside while
occasionally sneaking glances at her driver.
They stopped that
night at the White Horse Inn and spent the evening in the restaurant where
Clare drank more than was good for her.
Harry thought she had
been in a strange mood since the journey up and kept looking at him in a funny
way, but Clare was drinking too much, and she was flirting and he had never
seen her do that before, and he couldn’t let it continue.
If he did, her mother
would not consider that “Taking care of her”
“Come on party girl”
he said “bedtime”
“Oh goody” she said
draining her glass
Accompanied by outrageous flirting and downright suggestive behavior
Harry steered her up the stairs
“Up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire” he said and when they reached the
top he headed towards her room at the end of the corridor.
When they got to her door Clare announced
“Honey! I’m home”
Harry propped her against the doorframe as he unlocked the door and she
began kissing his neck.
“Behave yourself” he said and gave her a playful slap on her bum
“Oooh are you going to spank me Harry?” she asked
“Get in there young lady” he said and guided her through the door
“I love it when you’re all masterful” Clare responded and wrapped her
arms around his neck and tried to kiss him
Harry managed to avoid her lips at the last second as the door slammed
shut behind them and they performed a strange ungracious waltz into the room.
“Here we are young lady,” he said as he prepared to lower her onto the
bed
“Bedfordshire” Clare said gleefully, and span Harry around and then
pushed him backwards onto the bed and she kicked off her shoes and jumped on
top of him.
Harry began to protest but her soft lips and hot mouth clamped over his
and her tongue was like a serpent.
Harry’s resistance lasted less than a minute, after all he had dreamt of
that moment since she was 17.
His hands began to claw the shirt free of her waistband and then with
great urgency she sat upright and pulled the shirt off over her head and threw
it aside.
Her hands trembled as her fingers fumbled at his shirt buttons, but when
she had accomplished her task, she ran her fingers through the hairs on his
chest.
Those trembling hands that caressed his flesh went behind her back and unhooked
her bra.
After Clare had ridden
Harry to an exhausting climax, the sweating panting beast with her raven black
hair in wild disarray and eyes wide with primal lust smiled a smile of
lasciviousness.
“Do you think this is
what your mum meant when she said, “Take care of her”?” Harry asked
“Oh yes I think so”
she said “and when you recover you can “take care of me” again”
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