Doris seated herself on the sofa once again, and nodded toward the coffee table. Carla, taking the nod as a command, set the mug on the table. Doris s...iled at her, and said, “Good. Now, where was I? Oh yes I was … oh, DO sit down … you do still live here, you know.” Carla sat, but this time she didn’t relax into the chair; she remained upright, seated at the edge, her hands folded demurely in her lap and her legs crossed at the ankle beneath her. She kept her eyes downward, staring at a point. She straddled me. She leaned in toward me. ‘No,’ I said, holding her back. ‘I want to look at you.’ How odd and pleasant it was to see her grinding confidence slide into watched demureness, the little awkwardness of a girl still within a woman. I cherished the sight of her. I cherished every curve. I cherished every freckle. I cherished the tell-tale streaks our baby, now this year beginning college, had left on her belly and her breasts. Now, here in the firelight it all seemed more magical.. Shall I put it on the dresser?’ ‘Please.’ As he passed, Heather took the delicate teacup from the tray and sipped the steaming hot tea. He put the tray down. ‘Cook prepared your favo-rite, Miss Heather. Apple turnovers and oatmeal with cream.’ Heather laughed. ‘I do love oatmeal with cream –even more than one kind of cream, James.’ She gave him a seductive look. The fifty-year-old butler blushed slightly. ‘Why, what do you mean, Miss Heather?’ The nineteen-year-old lady of the manor moved close. As she walked to the door, spunk was running from the gaping hole that was, for now, her rectal opening. I knew she would leave it running from her and I was looking forward to cleaning it from her. ‘I need food’, I said, after licking her clean of spunk. ‘So do I. It must be hours since we ate’, she said as she climbed from my face. ‘Come lover boy, let’s see what we’ve got eat. We went downstairs into the kitchen, me naked, her still in stockings and shoes. I had a feeling of déjà vu,.
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