by Carla Blake
Megan is delighted to receive it, but she is more excited about showing off the house now the army of cleaners have worked their magic and disappeared.
It is an impressive place and Katherine is delighted at the way it has been furnished. Megan says it didn’t need much in the way of decorating and Katherine thinks it must run in the family. The lounge is comfortable with its solid oak flooring and plush furniture. The open fireplace has been lit to see off the last of the early March chill.
In the middle of the room stand two soft, fabric sofas in deep red and an armchair, next to the fire. Katherine has only ever seen photos of Uncle Alfred, but she can imagine him sitting there clearly enough, gazing into the flames and perhaps thinking of the niece he will one day leave all this to. Her only regret is that she will never have the chance to say thank you.
Patio doors lead out to a garden at the rear of the property, mostly laid to lawn. There is a bird table, empty of feed, plonked in the middle. At the bottom, a lone apple tree stands guard, its bare branches poking at a pale sky, a few mouldering apples laying at its feet. Beside it and badly in need of repair sits a fragile looking bench.
Megan follows her gaze. “I’ll get rid of that tomorrow.” She says. “Tatty old thing. Would you like me to order a new one?”
Katherine glances at her then shakes her head. “No, let it stay. It might be old but it looks right out there don’t you think? Where’s the kitchen? I’d like to see that now.”
The kitchen is painted white and fitted with modern appliances. The sight of them causes Katherine to raise an eyebrow and ask Megan if she’s had it re-fitted even though she’s fully aware there would not have been time for such extravagance.
“No, it was all here.” Megan says, opening a cupboard to reveal a fridge hidden within. “All of it. I was amazed myself. And I don’t think any of it has been used, it’s too clean.”
“Good old Uncle Alfred.” Katherine says and allows Megan to lead her upstairs.
Each of the five bedrooms is immaculately and fully furnished with fitted wardrobes and brand new beds.
“The mattresses are definitely new.” Megan informs her. “They all had plastic covers on them when we arrived. I’m pretty sure the carpets are new as well, there isn’t a stain on them and can you smell them? You know, that ‘new carpet’ smell.”
Katherine agrees she can.
It’s the same story with the en suite bathrooms. They are clean to five star standard and Katherine graciously asks Megan to extend her thanks to the cleaners for all their hard work.
“I will, but they didn’t have much to do in truth.” Megan replies. “Most of it was just dust.”
Katherine nods. “What haven’t I seen yet?”
Megan counts the rooms off on her fingers. “Okay, there’s the dining room, you haven’t see that yet. That has a mahogany table big enough to seat eight and a mirror that weighs a ton! T=hen there’s the study, with a brilliant desk, another open fireplace and wall to wall books.”
“About what? The books I mean.”
Megan shrugs. “Haven’t had time to look, but there’s plenty of them. There’s also another smaller lounge that looks kinda cosy and a utility room. Is that twelve?”
“Eleven.” Katherine corrects her.
“Right.” Megan frowns, “What am I missing? Oh, yes, a cellar! There’s a cellar. With wine. Lots of wine!”
Katherine chooses the bedroom at the front of the house. It overlooks the drive, which allows her to see who’s coming, and a small lawn that positively begs for a fountain to be set in the middle. Around the outer perimeter stand a lofty bank of fir trees which effectively drown out the noise from the country lane and prevent anyone from peering in. Visitors, she decides, will be by invitation only. Aside from the postman. He may come.
Turning from the window, she hugs herself in an uncharacteristic gesture from a woman who normally keeps her emotions tightly under wrap, but she can’t help it. She really likes this house.
Downstairs Megan has laid out the breakfast Katherine bought with her in the kitchen. She has not been idle. The smell of baking bread leaks from the oven and a pot of coffee is bubbling on the counter. She pours one for Katherine when she walks in and sets it in front of her. Katherine takes one look and pushes it away.
“I don’t drink coffee.” She says, getting up to fill the kettle. “Only tea.”
“I’m sorry.” Megan blushes, looking contrite. “I didn’t know.”
“I know,” Katherine replies, “but you do now. And don’t bother trying to impress me with Twinnings tea or any of that fancy stuff. I like Yorkshire, hard water tea. Okay?’
Megan nods, looking mortified. There is only Tetley tea in the cupboard.
After breakfast - Katherine doesn’t say a word about the lack of Yorkshire tea, but she doesn’t drink a full cup - Megan asks if Katherine has a list of duties for the day and waits for her to consider.
“Shopping” Katherine instructs her. “Groceries. I will give you a list. Is your car here?”
Megan nods.
“Good, then you can get a weekly shop. And don’t go buying expensive crap because you think I eat nothing else. That’s not the case. I like simple food Megan, meals your mum probably used to make you like sausage and mash, pies and spaghetti bolognaise, that kind of thing. Food that fills you up. And ice cream. Oh, and Yorkshire tea.” The last is said with a smile. The relief that shines out of Megan’s face is palpable. “And stop looking so worried!” Katherine adds. “I’m not going to eat you! Well, not unless you’ve been very good.”
Whilst Megan is out playing the dutiful housewife, Katherine explores the house. The bedrooms she leaves alone, one is very much like another, although she has insisted Megan takes the room furthest away from hers. She doesn’t want her within hearing distance if she decides to pleasure herself and she certainly doesn’t want Megan hearing her calling out Hannah’s name.
The bathroom is similarly uninteresting.
The second lounge is just as Megan described, cozy, and she can see herself curling up in there a lot. There is a ton of DVD’s to choose from and a state of the art plasma TV to watch them on. It’s all rather odd considering the house used to belong to a pensioner and it makes her wonder about her uncle. He was nearly eighty three when he died but the house has clearly been designed for a much younger person. Not that elderly people shouldn’t watch Terminator or have fancy TV’s or like nice things, it just all seems so out of place. She would have expected her uncle to enjoy sitting by the fire with a good book and a glass of brandy at his side and possible a dog at his feet, not watching Arnie run around as a hundred weight of killing machine. If she finds an x-box it’s definitely going to do her head in.
She doesn’t, but the study come library is interesting. One of the desk drawers is stuffed with every kind of pen you can imagine, whilst the other is filled with paper designed for water colours. A paperweight in the shape of a breast, complete with nipple, holds down a pile of old receipts - her uncle spent a lot on books- and a computer monitor sits to the left.
Katherine turns it on. It is totally clean. Every file a blank, empty space waiting to be filled. She has access to the Internet though and she swiftly connects and gets in touch with Alex. She then answers six emails whilst she waits to deal with Alex’s latest crisis. Fortunately, it isn’t overly taxing and she tells Alex what to do in a single sentence. She can almost hear Alex’s sigh of relief whizzing through the ether.
Signing off, she leaves the desk and tilts her head to read the titles of the books on the shelf. Some are what she expected. The complete works of Shakespeare. A pile of Dickens. No surprises there. But then she comes across every novel Stephen King has ever written, plus a fair smattering of Bernard Cornwell. These are a little more surprising as is the single hardback copy of the Beano. Nancy Goodwi
ll she has never heard of . Who the fuck is she?
It doesn’t take long to work out. Nancy Goodwill writes porn. Explicit porn. Explicit girl on girl porn and flicking through the pages Katherine cannot hide her grin. Oh, yes! She smiles, she is definitely taking a couple of Nancy’s up to her room tonight. Filthy old Uncle Alfred. She could bloody kiss him!
The utility room is boring and she won’t be going in there again. Megan can deal with all that stuff. The only powder she’s interested in isn’t for washing.
The cellar is better and even though it’s gloomy and chilly and home to several mean looking spiders, it more than makes up for it in wine. Loads of wine. Racks of the stuff, stretching for roughly twelve feet in front of her. Covered in dust, each bottle she examines appears to be more expensive and more exclusive than the last. And up against the wall another rack holds enough bottles of Brandy and Scotch to keep her squiffy for a year! There is even another crammed with bottles of Vodka together with a plastic crate of cola and lemonade for mixers. It’s brilliant and delightful but bloody weird all at the same time and Katherine frowns at the bare floor at her feet wondering if it is really possible that her uncle actually prepared this house exclusively with her in mind? If he did, it was an awful lot of expense and trouble to go to for a niece he’d never met? And how would he have known what she liked? And didn’t care for? Who would he have asked?
Alex.
Alex has never been good at lying and Katherine is pretty damn sure she isn’t now. She has no idea about the house, she says, nor about any weird uncle with apparent second sight and impeccable taste. She does suggest, however, that Katherine tries the solicitor who informed her about the house and Katherine thinks it a fine idea, demanding she gets on to it straight away.
Alex is incredulous. “What? Like I have the time for all that!” She splutters. “Can’t you call them yourself? Besides, they’re hardly likely to talk to me are they? This is confidential stuff you’re asking.”
The solicitors are useless. They know nothing aside from the fact the house was bequeathed to her. They suggest she tries her family.
Katherine suggests they actually do something for their money and find out for her, but her request falls on stony ground and so after a few more minutes of getting absolutely nowhere, she gives up.
Sod it, she thinks. She’ll just enjoy it for what it is.
Megan returns with enough groceries to feed a small army. She doesn’t expect or ask for Katherine’s help in un packing.
She does, however, find Katherine in the smaller of the two lounges and hands her a small, white envelope.
“What’s this?” Katherine asks, slitting it open with her finger and pulling out a single sheet of plain, white paper.
“Your Uncle left it.” Megan says, wandering over to check out the DVD’s. “I forgot I had it.”
“Clearly.” Katherine says and starts reading.
It doesn’t say much. Uncle Alfred doesn’t expect she remembers him. True. In fact, he last saw her at her Christening where he held her for five minutes and she managed to cry for four of them. However, he has followed her progress over the years and has to say how delighted he is at how far she has come. Sweet. Therefore, as he has no other family to leave his house to, he would very much like her to have it. He hopes it is to her satisfaction. The team of designers he had come over to perform a complete make over assure him it will be. Correct. His only request is that she spends many happy hours within its walls and enjoys the Brandy in the cellar. The bottles at the back are particularly fine.
And that’s it. Apart from his sincere good wishes.
It goes a long way to explaining a hell of a lot.
Taking a deep breath, Katherine waves the letter in the air. “How long have you had this?” She asks, breathing out of her nose.
Megan shrugs. “Couple of days?”
This girl is so not Alex.
“And you didn’t think to give it to me earlier?”
Megan looks from the letter, back to her and back to the letter again. “You have it now.”
Katherine frowns. Insolence is not a trait she enjoys seeing in those she employs. “Clearly, I do. But what if it had been important?”
“Is it?”
“No, it’s not actually, but it is of interest. However, that is not the point.”
“So what is?”
“That if you have mail to give to me, you give it to me promptly. Not a ‘couple of days’ later.”
“Gotcha.” Megan smiles, “so no harm done then?”
Katherine looks at her, unsure what to make of her. At the hotel, she was meek and timid and ready to get on her hands and knees and lick out her pussy at a moment’s notice. Here though, she has grown bold and cocky and she’s changed the way she looks. Gone is the mousey brown hair tied up in a pony’s tail and a figure swamped by a crisp but dowdy uniform, and in its place is a new short style with blonde highlights complimented by tight sweaters and jeans designed to show off her figure.
Megan is practically a different person and clearly feeling much more confident and in control which isn’t a bad attitude to have when acting as a personal assistant, but not when it undermines her authority. Then it becomes a nuisance and something to be stamped on immediately.
She will have to show her who is boss and quickly, before she got too big for her boots.
“Megan. Come here please.”
Katherine has crossed the room to sit on the sofa. She is wearing jeans with black beading on the back pockets and a red sweater. She waits patiently for Megan to put back the DVD she is examining and then tells her to take off all of her clothes.
The look on Megan’s face is priceless. Tangled somewhere between delight and surprise and the worry this might be a major wind up.
“Take them off.” Katherine repeats. “Slowly. I want to look at you.”
Gripping the edge of her sweater, Megan pulls it over her head. Her belly is flat and smooth, the colour of cream. Her bra is black and lacy. She reaches to undo it but Katherine stops her and tells her to leave it on for now.
She moves to her jeans, snapping open the button and slowly winding down the zip. Kicking off her trainers, her socks are also black, she wriggles her jeans over her hips and steps out of them. Her socks follow. Now she is standing in just her bra and panties. A fine speckling of goose bumps covering her skin.
“Cold?” Katherine enquires.
“A little.” Megan confesses.
“Come here.”
Megan steps closer and Katherine sits up to slide her hands around Megan’s waist. Pulling her closer, she runs her tongue across the pale expanse of her stomach. Her tongue leaves a wet trail behind it.
“Hmm, you taste nice.” She says. “I wonder if anything else does?”
Reaching round she unclasps Megan’s bra and allows the material to fall away. Her breasts are small but firm and she has the most amazing nipples, tight and brown and rapidly hardening as the cool air hits them.
“Give them to me.” Katherine demands and Megan bends over so Katherine can take a breast in her mouth. She hears Megan sigh as her mouth deliberately winds its way towards her nipple and she gently bites, not hard enough to hurt but firm enough for Megan to realise a delicate part of her anatomy is entirely at Katherine’s mercy.
Letting the nipple go, Katherine licks her instead. Running her tongue over and around the creamy globe, whilst her hand teases the other breast until that nipple is as hard as a bullet.
Above her, Megan is all sighs and gasps, her hands gripping hard upon Katherine’s shoulders and when Katherine eventually straightens her up, it is clear Megan is reluctant for her to go. Her sigh of disappointment is loud and heartfelt whilst her body hums with desire. Her nipples are rock hard and her pussy is starting to throb. She wants, more than anythi
ng, for Katherine to fuck her. She is sure her panties are damp.
As if reading her mind, Katherine tells her to take off her panties.
Megan slides them over her thighs and glances down as she steps out of them. She is right, there is a tiny, damp spot right in the middle of the crotch. She’s not sure if she wants Katherine to notice or not? Her pussy feels heavy and swollen. Her clit tightens in anticipation.
Katherine tells her to spread her legs then takes her time examining her. Finally she nods her approval. “Neat.” She says. “I like that. Neat but still enough fluff to be feminine. Well done.”
Megan has no idea if she should answer or not. Her pussy is beginning to cool down. Katherine instructs her to turn around and she obeys her instantly.
Now her backside is just inches away from Katherine’s face.
“Spread your legs again.”
Megan does as she is told.
“Bend over and touch your toes.”
Megan bends over. She can see Katherine’s midriff through the gap in her legs, but that is all. She wishes she could see her face. She hopes she is not about to be fucked up the arse.
Katherine kisses her bum cheeks, first one then the other. Her hands are cool and on her thighs and they stay there for a time before gradually moving up to glide over her backside where firm fingers sweep across her flesh, the sharpness of her nails leaving pale, pink furrows across the creamy globes.
Megan, feeling the blood beginning to rush to her head, wishes she would hurry up. She’s turned on, but this position is uncomfortable and she’s not sure how much longer she can maintain it. She wonders if she should say something?
Katherine inserting a finger into her vagina stops her. Oh God!
“Nice?” Katherine asks her, slowly moving her finger in and out of the tight channel. “You’re very juicy. Very tight. Would you like another?”