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Summer in the Hamptons Ch. 01

By: Aging Rake



The Hamptons in Summer time is great. At least, it is if you have lots of money. Mike Robertson didn’t have lots of money, but he never the less found himself in Easthampton from Memorial Day to Labor Day each year.

He found himself there because of his job, as a Butler to wealthy couple, Mr & Mrs Leigh, who spent the rest of the year based in their 5th Avenue Penthouse, within which he had his own small apartment. A couple of weeks before Memorial Day, he had ridden the Jitney out to Easthampton to get the house ready. It was only the second summer that the Leighs had owned this house, having rented for a number of years before deciding to buy. It was a modest, six bedroom house not far from the airport, with the usual facilities.

Mike called ahead to book a car service to take him to the house, and arrived just after 5 pm, when the evening light shone through the windows as he went round the house checking all was well. He went to his own quarters, a self-contained apartment over the garage, and unpacked his few belongings; most of his summer clothing was kept out here, as, indeed was his beloved BMW motorcycle. After showering and changing, Mike decided that it was time to eat. He fired up the bike, and headed west on Route 27 to his favorite restaurant, one of the few within the range of his expense account.

As he entered the familiar building, the Hostess, Christina, looked at him, and suddenly her face broke into a smile of recognition.

“Mike!” she said, “Where have you been all winter? We’ve missed you.”

“Missed my expense account, you mean.” Replied Mike with a grin. “Do you have a table for one?”

Christina glanced around the room in which three or four of the thirty tables were occupied.

“I think I can squeeze you in.” she said, and grabbing a menu led Mike across the room to a table by the wall, where he liked to sit and people watch as he ate. As he followed Christina across the room, his eyes were drawn to her shapely rump as she swayed her hips provocatively. “No VPL,” he thought as he eyed the tight fitting skirt in front of him, “either a thong, or no panties at all, the saucy minx.” Christina sat him down, and handed him the menu. As she bent forward to point out which items were not available, Mike was treated to a delightful view of the valley between her luscious breasts, which were just restrained by the tight black top that she wore. As always, Mike raised his eyes to meet hers, and noted the teasing smile on her face. “So, Chrissy, what are doing after you finish work tonight?”

“You know perfectly well,” she said. “I’ll be taking the Chef upstairs for night of passion and romance. I’ll send your waitress over.” Mike sighed wistfully as Christina, joint owner, together with her chef husband, of the restaurant sashayed her way back to the door.

Mike looked at the familiar menu, as a waitress came over. “Good evening, my name is Erica, and I’ll be your server this evening. Can I start you off with something to drink?” Mike ordered a Martini, and discreetly eyed the waitress as she busied herself at the bar. Short, slender and – he noticed – no wedding band. He thought there might be a little fun to be had flirting with this girl as the summer went on. Erica brought his drink, and stood ready to take his order. After he had done ordering, she gazed at him thoughtfully and asked, “Are you from England?”

“Yes” replied Mike, “I am.”

“Isn’t that something!” exclaimed Erica. “You’re the second English person I’ve served tonight. An Englishwoman was in earlier. She works as a Housekeeper for some rich folks who’ve rented a house for the summer, and she came out early to get everything ready.”

Mike found this interesting, but didn’t give it any further thought until he arrived back at the Restaurant for his dinner the next evening.

“Hey, welcome back!” said Christina. “You want to meet somebody from your own country?”

“Why not?” said Mike and she led him to his usual table. Seated at the next table was a woman in her late twenties or early thirties. Reddish hair tied back in a pony tail, a dusting of freckles over her nose, and a voluminous sweatshirt with the words, “Vail Mountain Resort” written on it were all he could see above the table. Mike nodded a brief greeting to her, and sat down to peruse the all too familiar menu. The woman spoke, in a gentle Irish brogue, “Could you tell me what’s good? They tell me you’re a regular here.”

“Well, it’s all pretty good. I like the Clam Chowder and the Duck Breast.”

“If you recommend it, I’ll try it.”

“Erica said you were English, but I can tell you’re Irish. These Americans can’t tell one accent from another! I gather that you work as a Housekeeper – is that nearby? How did you come to be working in the States? Whereabouts are you from? I’m Mike, by the way.”

Mike realized that he was gabbling, but found the woman vaguely enticing, as her blue eyes sparkled at him above the menu.

“Well now, there’s a lot to be answering in one go and on an empty stomach. Just give me a wee minute to get a drink and order some food! ”

They ordered their drinks and meals, and little was said as they ate and concentrated on their food. As they settled with their coffee, the woman moved sideways to sit opposite Mike at his table.

“Saves shouting.” she said, “Now, what was it you were asking me? Ah, yes, well my name is Siobhan, I’m Irish, as you noticed, and originally I’m from a little place not far from Kilarney. I first came over here 10 years ago as a student, and spent the summer on working on the Hampton Jitney. I met a guy whilst I was working, and we had a wee fling, and I found that I was pregnant. We got married, and then when I was six months gone we had a road accident in the February snows, and I miscarried. It was never the same after that, and we stayed together just long enough for me to get my Green Card and then we split. I moved to New York City, and started to do a bit of cleaning to make ends meet. One of the people I worked for offered me a permanent job when their maid left, and then when their daughter got married a year or so back she offered me a job as House Manager. I run their town house, and as they’ve rented a house out here this summer, I’ve come out a bit ahead to make sure everything’s ready.

There you are, my life story! Your turn, Michael.”

Mike took a deep breath, and began to tell his story. He had grown up in southern England, and had joined the Royal Navy as an officer’s Steward. After 10 years, he was a Chief Petty Officer, responsible for running the wardroom in a big shore establishment. He was considering signing on again, when he saw a job advertisement for the Royal Household. He called an old shipmate who was, by then, serving in the Royal Yacht, and, following his advice, applied for the position. After a number of fairly testing interviews, he was offered a job as Footman in the household of a “minor” member of the Royal Family, who lived in a “Grace and Favour” apartment in one of the London palaces. He found that there was a high turnover of staff, as the Lady of the house was very demanding. Before long, as people left, he found himself an Under Butler, but increasingly unhappy. Not only was Her Royal Highness a very difficult woman to work for (her husband was easy going enough) but he found it increasingly difficult as the only “straight” member of the household. He made discreet enquiries, and signed up with a number of agencies who said that they would have no difficulty in placing him

Within a week of leaving the Palace, one of the agencies called and offered him a job interview. It was for a limited period, and was for an American couple who needed somebody to look after them as they stayed in London to be near their eldest daughter, who was in a hospice as she was suffering from Leukemia. After seven months, the daughter died, and Mike took care of all the arrangements to ship her body home and went back to New York with Mr & Mrs Leigh to help organize the funeral. The upshot was that they offered him a full time position, and had their own lawyer deal with all the immigration requirements for him to get a working visa. He had now been with the Leighs for 5 years, and was fairly settled.

“So,” said Siobhan, “You know the Hamptons as well as New York, then?”

“I do, but if you worked the Jitney and lived out here you probably know it better than I do.”

“Well, now, to be sure, that was a few years ago now.”

They glanced round, and realized that they were the only people in the restaurant. Erica, their waitress caught Mike’s eye, and brought the checks over. As they left together, Christina gave them a knowing look. In the parking lot, Siobhan moved toward a Lexus SUV as Mike put on his helmet to get on his bike.

“Do you have far to go?” he asked.

“Just about half a mile away – I was just too tired to walk it this evening.”

“Sounds like it’s near where we rented last year. What’s the address?

Siobhan thought for a second, then told him.

“Hey, that IS the place we were in last summer. Do you still get the rooms over the pool house? And did they ever fix the Air Conditioning in the master Suite and the controls for the pool and spa?”

“Now there’s a coincidence! Yes, I’m over the pool house, and I’m still trying to figure out the aircon and the pool. And the phone system is a nightmare.”

Mike thought for a minute, and said, “I think I’ve still got a lot of stuff on my laptop that I wrote down last year in case we went back. It took me all summer to work out the pool – would you like me to print the stuff off and bring it over tomorrow evening? I think I can remember the little tweaks that you have to give the pool controls, as well.”

“That would be great! Thanks, Mike, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Siobhan flashed him a smile, climbed into her car, and drove away. Mike was in thoughtful mood as he rode back. Siobhan seemed a very pleasant woman – probably 29 or 30, and he couldn’t help wondering what her figure like under the baggy sweat shirt and cargo pants. As he settled into his bed, he saw her again in his mind’s eye as she had been in the restaurant. Telling her story in a matter fact way, keeping eye contact through both their tales. Her clear, blue eyes, above the lightly freckled nose, beneath the pale eyelashes, and with the small crows’ feet at the corners when she smiled. Ah, yes, the smile. Her face came alive when she smiled, as she showed her gleaming white teeth, with one of the incisors slightly crooked which gave her added character. That face was in Mike’s mind as he drifted off to sleep.

The following evening, Mike finished his work for the day, and showered and changed as his computer printed out all his notes from last summer. As he collated it all, he thought how lucky it was that he had kept it.

He knocked at Siobhan’s front door at 7 o’clock, and she was surprised to see him.

“And how did you get through the gates?” she asked sternly.

Mike grinned, “First thing you need to do is change the gate code. I just tried last year’s, and it let me in. I can show you how to do that, if you like.”

He noticed that Siobhan was again wearing a baggy sweat shirt – this time bearing the logo of a well known New York dry cleaner – and he made a mental note to look out for her there, as he used the same establishment. They sat down at the kitchen table, and Mike ran through his notes. He explained the phone, security and all the various other household systems.

“No sense in reinventing the wheel” he said when Siobhan began to thank him. 

“OK, then, the least I can do is but you dinner.”

Christina’s eyes opened a little wider as Mike and Siobhan entered the restaurant together, and she gave a broad grin as they asked for a table for two. 

“You don’t waste any time” she whispered to Mike as she showed them to their table. 

Siobhan turned round, and said, “It’s a business arrangement!”

“Well!” said Christina, “I never took you for that kind of girl.” and with a broad grin, she returned to her post by the door.

Siobhan was aghast.

“Did she just say what I think she said?”

“Don’t worry, she doesn’t mean anything by it.”

The meal passed pleasantly, and Mike spent most of the time answering Siobhan’s questions about the house. As they left, they paused in the parking lot. Mike gave her has business card, and said she shouldn’t hesitate to call him if she had a problem. Siobhan looked at him, smiled gently, and said, “You’re very kind. Thank you.” Leaning forward, she gave him a peck on the cheek, and hopped into her car and drove away. Mike watched her tail lights disappear down the road, mounted his motorcycle and rode home. His thoughts were in more of a turmoil that night, and it took him longer to get to sleep as the images of Siobhan’s face lingered in his mind.

The next afternoon, Mike was just leaving K Mart when his cell phone rang. It was Siobhan.

“Mike? I’m sorry to bother you, but I’ve got a couple of wee problems. I can’t get the pool controls to work at all, and there’s a major problem with the air-conditioning in the master suite. Is there any chance that you could pop round and have a look?”

“No problem, I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

Again, Siobhan looked surprised to see him when he presented himself at the door. 

“But I changed the gate code!”

“I know. But you use the same garbage collectors, and I just punched in the last four digits of their phone number. That’ll get you in almost anywhere.” He grinned. This time, Siobhan had obviously been working. The sweat shirt and cargo pants were missing, and in their place was a loose fitting tee shirt and jeans. Her long, red gold hair was still tied back in a pony tail, though a few wisps of hair had escaped, and there was a smudge of dirt on her face. He suggested that he check out the pool controls first, as that was nearer. It took Mike about 10 minutes to work out what the problem was, and less than two to explain it to Siobhan, who was very quick on the uptake. They made their way down to the basement where the air conditioning units were. Mike checked everything, and reached behind.

“As I thought, the safety cutout has operated. You need to feel for it and push it to reset.”

Siobhan reached round, and fumbled. Seeing that she was obviously unable to find it, Mike stood close behind her, and, taking her hand, he guided it to the switch. As Siobhan pressed it, the satisfying sound of the unit coming to life met their ears as the vibration of the machinery shuddered through both their bodies.

Mike let go of her hand, and stepped back. Siobhan turned slowly and looked at him.

“Thanks” was all she said, as they turned and made their way out of the basement. As they reached the door to the stairway, Mike stopped. He had spotted that one of the water pipes that ran through the uncovered ceiling seemed to be leaking. He pointed it out to Siobhan, who asked if he knew where she could get hold of a plumber. Mike looked at his watch, and said that there was no chance at that time of the evening. He suddenly remembered something, and led Siobhan out to the garage where, in a cabinet, he found a tool kit.

“I thought this might still be here” he said as he checked the contents, and found that he had all he needed to repair the leaking joint. The two of them returned to the basement, where Mike turned off the water supply before starting to undo the joint. As the pipe came free, all the water in that part of the spouted out, soaking both him and Siobhan. As the flow dropped to a trickle, Mike shook the water from his eyes and resealed the joint. When he turned the water back on, there was no leak. Coming down the ladder, he glanced at Siobhan, who had both arms crossed over her chest. He realized that her soaking wet tee shirt was almost transparent, and as she turned her back to lead him out, he could see that she was not wearing a bra. As they emerged from the basement, she turned to look at Mike. As she started to say her thanks, Mike cut her short, saying that there was no need for that, but instead he should apologize for having soaked her. Siobhan put her arms to her sides, and looked down at her sodden clothes. Her tee shirt clung to what Mike could now see were two small, but firm breasts. As she cooled in the air conditioned room, her nipples grew and, realizing this, she hastened to cover them with her hands.

“Come,” she said, “We need some dry clothes. I’ve a bathrobe that you can borrow whilst your stuff goes in the drier.”

Emerging from the bathroom in Siobhan’s suite, engulfed in a fluffy bathrobe that was obviously the property of the Man of the House, Mike sat down to wait for Siobhan as she took their sopping clothes to the laundry room and put them in the drier. When she returned, she had a bottle of red wine, and a couple of glasses.

“This should help us get over the ordeal” she said, expertly drawing the cork. She offered Mike a sip to taste, and, when he murmured his approval, she poured them each a glass, and sat beside Mike on the sofa. She raised her glass, and asked, 

“What should we drink to?”

Mike thought for a moment, and replied, “To a hassle free summer for us both.” They clinked glasses, and sipped their wine. Mike looked at Siobhan, and noted the clean white tee shirt that she now wore, with a pair of shorts. With her face scrubbed, and her damp hair now loose, she looked about seventeen. Taking a deep breath, Mike told her that. Siobhan laughed, and accused him of being a flatterer. They gazed at one another, and, as one, they put their glasses down and moved towards each other. They kissed, gently, on the lips, pulled apart, and moved together and kissed again. Siobhan sat back, breathing a little heavily. Mike could, once again, see her nipples poking through her tee shirt. They closed for a third time, and as they kissed, their arms went round each other. Mike felt Siobhan’s tongue prodding his lips, and as he opened them, it shot into his mouth and their tongues began a fencing match. Mike’s hands moved up and down Siobhan’s back, and, as he felt her hands inside his bathrobe to his chest, he moved one hand round tentatively to caress her left breast. Siobhan broke the kiss, and gasped a little and gave a girlish smile.

“I’m sorry there’s not much there.”

“It feels perfect.” Said Mike and, gazing into her eyes brought his other hand to her right breast and began slowly circling both hard nipples with his thumbs. Siobhan put her hands on his, closed her eyes, and pressed his hands to her. She leaned forward for another kiss, and Mike’s hands slipped round to her back again. As their tongues danced, Mike slowly began to lift the hem of her tee shirt. She eased back a little from her tight embrace to make it easier, and raised her arms to allow him to remove it totally. They fell back on the sofa, Siobhan on top of Mike as they indulged in another deep kiss, Mike’s hand now stroking her naked breast. Siobhan adjusted her position, so that she could undo the belt of Mike’s bathrobe. She rested her forearm on his stomach as her hand ran through his chest hair to fondle his nipples. Mike’s spare hand moved down her back, and fondled her tight buttock through her shorts. Siobhan let out a little squeak as he insinuated his hand under the top of her shorts to try and reach her naked flesh, but the waistband was too tight.

“Wait a minute” said Siobhan breathlessly; she stood up and began to fumble with her belt buckle. Mike stood, and as his robe fell open at the front he helped her with the her shorts. As he slid them from her hips, he could feel his erection squeezed between their stomachs as he fondled her naked buttocks. Siobhan slid her hand between them, and gripped his penis, sighing. They moved a little apart, and Siobhan led him by the penis through to her bedroom. As he shrugged off the bathrobe, she stripped off her thong and stood before him. They gazed at one another for a moment. He took in her small, pert breast with the now rock hard nipples rising and falling as she breathed, her smooth white stomach and the wild triangle of ginger hair at the top of her shapely legs. In turn, she looked at his firm body, hairy chest and the thin line of hair leading down from his navel, which was almost concealed by the seven inch erection that sprouted from the mass of dark hair at his loins. As they closed once more and kissed, he felt the coarse scratch of her pubic hair against his glans, now partially exposed as his erection began to outgrow his foreskin. Gently, he pushed her back against the bed, and lowered her down. 


Summer in the Hamptons Ch. 02



Mike Robertson woke up to the sound of his alarm clock, and rubbed his eyes. He was slightly tumescent, as he in his half-awake and half-asleep state found himself thinking of Siobhan, and the evening that they had spent together.

After their nap, they had looked at each other. "What now?" Mike had asked. Siobhan had pulled the sheet up to her chin, and looked away. "Whatever must you think of me? Throwing myself at you like that?" Mike had stroked her shoulder, "Hey. Don't take on. You didn't throw yourself at me. We both needed this, we both enjoyed it. I don't think any the less of you; in fact, I think the more of you. The question is, where do we go from here?"

Siobhan had turned back to face him and looked him in the eyes. "You're right. It was good, and we both needed it. However, I'm not ready for a relationship. Can we leave it that we'll stay in touch and maybe help each other out when we need something?" Mike had nodded, and agreed. After getting dressed, they had parted with a lingering kiss.

Now that his employers, Mr & Mrs Leigh, had arrived, Mike's days and evenings were pretty full. He started work at 7:30 in the morning, to help the cook with breakfast, then supervised the local housekeepers as they cleaned the house. The Leighs generally had a light lunch, then took a nap in the afternoon. In the evenings, they either ate out or entertained a few old friends to dinner, which Mike served. His day ended at about 11 pm, when he fell in to bed. His favorite times were Wednesday and Thursday, which were his days off and he was free to either return to the City, or just potter about Easthampton.

One morning in mid June, Mr Leigh looked up from his breakfast and said, "Oh, Michael, I almost forgot. We've been invited to join a party on a three weeks' cruise on Mr X's yacht, and we'll be away from Friday. Would you be kind enough to help Mrs Leigh with the packing?"

"Of course, Sir." Replied Mike, his heart rising at the thought of a couple of easy weeks. "One more thing, Michael, my niece, Patricia, will be here next week. We invited her before we were asked to join the cruise, as she's having a bit of a rough time since her divorce. I know you'll look after her. Also, my other niece, Joanne, will be here the following week."

Again, "Of course, Sir." was the only reply open to Mike as he gloomily saw his easy time vanish at the thought of Patricia's arrival. He remembered her from previous visits, a somewhat spoiled Upper East Side trust fund kid, she had made three very ill advised marriages before she was 30. Somehow, she had emerged from each marriage with a larger fortune, but at some cost to her emotional well-being. Mike knew that her latest divorce had been even more draining than the first two, as Patricia had to endure the public's glee as the facts of her husband's several infidelities had been spread over the tabloid press. Several of these infidelities had been with other couples and with men, and somehow the paparazzi had managed to take her photograph emerging from the clinic where she had gone for an AIDS test. Mike knew that she would probably be an easy house guest, unlike her cousin Joanne, who at nearly 35 had remained single, knew the biological clock was ticking away and seemed to behave more like a spoiled brat the older she got.

Having seen his employers safely off on their cruise, Mike had a fairly relaxed weekend. He had called Siobhan, but she had a house full of guests and wouldn't be able to see him. Monday morning found him at Easthampton airport, to meet Patricia Leigh Travers when her helicopter arrived. She greeted him somewhat abstractedly, and waited in the car whilst Mike helped the pilots load her bags in to the back. As they drove to the house, Mike explained to Patricia that her Uncle and Aunt were away. "I know" she said, "They sent me an email. That's OK – I just need a week or so to totally relax and get my head together. I know you'll look after me, you always do."

As Patricia settled in to her room with one of the housekeepers helping her unpack, Mike spent a few minutes chatting with the cook. They decided that Patricia was looking tired and that they would do their best to help her relax.

As the week passed by, the staff found Patricia to be an undemanding and appreciative houseguest. She took her meals when she said she would, and spent much of her time sunbathing by the pool, or sitting under an umbrella reading her book. Mike made sure that she had a good supply of cold drinks in the coolbox, and checked regularly to see if she needed anything. On the afternoon of her last day, Friday, he made one of his usual trips out to the poolside, and immediately noticed that something was wrong. Patricia, normally a strong swimmer, was floundering in the pool and was obviously in some distress. Dropping his cell phone and PDA on the ground, Mike dived in, and with a couple of lengthy strokes was at her side. Panicking, Patricia started to claw at Mike, but he was able to turn her so that she had her back to him, and supporting her struggling form on top of his body swan backwards to the shallow end, where he was able to get both her feet on the bottom. He held her from behind at arms length, his hands on her upper arms, as she recovered sufficiently to be led to the steps and he helped her out of the pool. She shakily sat down in a chair, as Mike got a towel and wrapped it round her shoulder. "Are you alright, Miss Patricia?" he asked, "What happened?"

Patricia shuddered and seemed to shrink into the towel. "I don't know. I got cramp, and couldn't move. I should have left it longer after lunch before I went in the pool."

Mike looked concernedly at her as she shivered, despite the warmth of the day. "Can I get you anything?" he asked. "You should probably see a doctor." 

"I'm fine" she replied. "I'll just lie here and have nap, and I'll be good. You need to get dried off, though."

Mike picked up his things, and started towards the house. Hearing Patricia call his name, he turned back and walked over to her. She stood, placed a hand on his shoulder and, looking him in the eye, said, "Thank you Mike. You saved my life."

"Miss Patricia, you're so much more than welcome." 

That evening, Patricia was quiet as Mike served her dinner, and afterwards he sent the housekeeper to her room to help her pack whilst he arranged for the car service to come and collect her at six the next morning.

Having spoken with the helicopter pilot and confirmed that the weather looked good for Patricia's flight in the morning, Mike went to her room, tapped respectfully on the door, and waited to be summoned in. Patricia sat at the desk, and he reported that all was set for her departure and flight. She rose from her chair, and walked towards him holding an envelope. "Mike, here is some money for the staff, you've all looked after me so well this week. Would you share it around?"

"Of course, Miss Patricia. I'm glad you enjoyed your stay."

"There's just one thing, Mike – I still haven't thanked you properly for this afternoon. You did save my life."

"Think nothing of it, Miss. It's what I'm here for, and I'm just glad I was in the right place at the right time. Now, is there anything else that I gat get for you this evening?"

"No thank you, Mike. Good night."

Saying his own "Good night, Miss Patricia" Mike left the room. After making his usual security round, he retired to his own room and after his usual bath, retired to bed.

He was awoken by the sound of his door being opened, and as he blinked his way into consciousness, he became aware of the presence of somebody in his room. Switching on his bedside light, he saw Patricia standing by the door wearing a blue Chinese silk robe. "Miss Patricia" he said, "I'm sorry – did I sleep through a call? What can I do for you?"

Patricia walked slowly towards the bed. "Mike. I couldn't sleep. I need to say thank you properly." As she said that, she undid the belt of her robe, slowly let it slide from her shoulders and to the floor and stood before him in all her naked glory. Mike already had a fairly good idea as to what her body looked like from having seen her in her bathing suits all week, but what he hadn't been able to se were the alabaster white breasts topped with raspberry pink nipples that grew as he looked. Neither had he seen the perfectly trimmed bush of pubic hair, almost the color of her tanned skin but set within the larger white triangle where her bikini briefs had shielded her from the sun. She pulled back his bedcovers, and climbed onto the bed beside him. "Miss Patricia – please don't think that you need to do this." protested Mike, but his protests were cut short as Patricia kissed him gently on the lips silencing him. "Mike, please, I want to do this. Let me say thank you in my own way."

She kissed him again, and when her mouth opened slightly he felt her small tongue flickering against his lips. Tasting her toothpaste, Mike parted his own lips and her kiss intensified as she explored the inside of his mouth. Meanwhile, she snuggled into his shoulder, and her free hand fluttered over his chest and down over his stomach. Finding his growing penis, she fondled it gently into full erection. As she did this, unable to help himself, Mike found himself stroking her back with one hand and her side with the other, until that hand reached the side of her breast. Gently, she removed his hand and returned to fondling him. A little confused as to precisely what she wanted, Mike moved his hand down her stomach until he reached her bush, when, again, she gently removed his hand.

"What . . ." he began only to be interrupted once again with a kiss.

"No, Mike." She said, "This is my thank you to you. It's all about you, tonight, so just relax and enjoy." She continued kissing and fondling him for a minute two, then broke the kiss and began to move down his body, planting small kisses all the way, until she reached his penis. Still holding it gently in her hand, she kissed the end, before gently peeling back the foreskin and taking the glans fully into her mouth. Slowly stroking the shaft, she began to roll her tongue around the glans and began a series of gentle sucks that Mike found almost exquisite. Her hand wandered a little, and as well as his penis she began to tease his scrotum with her fingernails. Mike could do little but look down at the top of her head as she delicately worked on him, and noticed her move her body so that she was lying on his leg. He felt her adjust her position, and was suddenly aware of her pubic hair on his foot as she began to rub herself against him. Just as he began to sense moisture there, she stopped her ministrations, and moved up his body. Straddling him, she smiled, and said, "Sorry about that, but it was the quickest way that I could get wet for you." 

With that she guided his penis into position, rubbed the end against her clitoris a few times, then slowly lowered herself onto it. She remained motionless for a moment – her knees bent under her, her body upright and impaled upon Mike's throbbing shaft. Using her knees and hips, and remaining upright, she began to move up and down. Once again, Mike reached for her breasts, and as he touched them she stopped him again, and repeated, "No. This is just for you."

"But it doesn't work that way for me. I need to see that I'm giving pleasure as well as getting it." said Mike. She let go his hands, and leaned forward slightly to put her hands on Mike's chest as he caressed her breasts, cupping them in his hands and feeling the nipples rub against his palms. She leaned back again, and Mike could only just reach her nipples with his fingertips. Lightly flicking alternate nipples with his left hand, he slid hi right down into their sopping and commingled pubic hair, as he sought out her clitoris with his thumb. A whimper told him when he had found his mark, and he began to flick it gently with his thumb as she began to increase the pace. Patricia shuddered into an orgasm that she had never sought, and Mike struggled a little to try and reach his own, but without success as Patricia fell forward onto him, uttering little squeaks and moans of delight, planting small kisses on his cheek which began to decrease as she descended from her orgasmic high. Sensing Mike still squirming a little beneath her, Patricia chuckled a little, kissed him on the lips, and said, "I'm sorry. This was meant to be for you." So saying, she grabbed hold of him, and rolled them both over in the bed so that they were in the missionary position. Wrapping her legs around his, and grasping his buttocks, she told Mike, "Go ahead, please, use me. I want to feel you come deep inside me."

Mike by this time needed no second invitation, and began thrusting with increasing speed. Despite being fully sated, Patricia wanted to help and thrust back against him. Before a rhythm could really be established, Mike felt the familiar boiling sensation at the base of his penis, and with a shudder, emptied himself in Patricia's sodden womb.

Mike withdrew his shrinking penis from Patricia and lay on his back beside her as they both got their breath back. Mike started to say something, but Patricia put her finger to his lips. "Don't say anything, Mike. Let's just accept this for what it was." So saying, she slipped from the bed, put on her robe, and was gone.

The next morning, Mike was on hand to see Patricia into her waiting car. "Goodbye, Miss – it's been a pleasure having you." Said Mike, with a straight face. 

"The pleasure was mine," she replied with a small smile playing on her lips. "Have fun with my cousin Joanne next week."

As the car prepared to leave, Mike saw Patricia's window open. "Mike, would you do me a favor?" she asked.

"Of course, Miss Patricia. What can I do?"

"Just this, Mike. When you write your memoirs, don't use my real name, will you."

"Of course not, Miss Patricia. Of course not." 



Summer in the Hamptons Ch. 03



Mike Robertson checked the guest suite carefully for the third time. Joanne Leigh was due within the hour, and he knew that if something were less than perfect, she would be vociferous in her complaint. Joanne Leigh, niece of his employers, was approaching 35, was still unmarried, knew the biological clock was ticking away and seemed to behave more like a spoiled brat the older she got. Mike smiled to himself, and slightly disarranged the towels in the bathroom, thinking that once she found something to criticize, she would be happy. He could almost hear her say, "Michael. The towels in my bathroom were all over the place when I arrived. I'm sure that my Uncle and Aunt would be devastated to hear about it.". As it was, professional pride took over and he tweaked everything back into place with a sigh.

Joanne arrived, and fussed over the removal of her bags from the back of the car which had brought her from the airport. "I have no cash, Mike, will you please see to the driver?" she said, not making eye contact as she tottered into the house on her Manolo Blahniks. Mike raised his eyebrows as he slipped the driver a $20 bill. The driver deftly pocketed it, and drove off leaving Mike amongst the Luis Vuitton luggage. Struggling slightly as he maneuvered the heavy bags onto his cart just inside the door, he saw the grinning face of his friend, Lenny, the Chef. "Struggling, mate?" asked Lenny – a rare creature, an English chef – in his cockney accent.

"Yeah." said Mike. This designer stuff weighs a bloody ton before you put anything in it. It's obviously designed for people who don't ever have to carry their own bags." He took the bags to the guest suite, where the housekeeper was waiting to unpack. As he prepared to leave, he saw Joanne prowling round on a tour of inspection, and sensed that she seemed a bit put out that there was nothing that she could criticize. 

For the next few days, Joanne made life very difficult for the staff. She ordered lunch for one o'clock, and then didn't come back for it until 3. She calmly announced half an hour after Citarella had closed that she was expecting 3 dinner guests, and after Lenny had sweated blood preparing the meal she calmly announced that she and her friends would eat out after all. She told Mike to make bookings at three or four restaurants for the same evening, and then decide at the last minute which one to which she would go. It took all Mike's diplomacy skills to pacify irate restaurateurs. Lenny was furious, and railed at Mike that they shouldn't have to put up with this kind of behavior. Mike was trying to shut 

When at home, Joanne spent a lot of time by the pool, and seemed to sense when Mike was at the far end of the house so that she could complain about the amount of time it took to respond to her calls. Most of these calls were for exotic cocktails, and Mike knew that she was trying to catch him out with either something he didn't know, or for which he was missing a vital ingredient. Luckily, the cellars at the house contained a good supply of every drink under the sun, and cocktail.com was bookmarked on the computer in Mike's office. 

Lenny found it very difficult, as he saw one after another of his culinary creations ruined due to being over cooked or abandoned. He complained bitterly to Mike one morning, and Mike was gesturing him to shut up. Just as Lenny was saying, "What that bloody woman needs a damn good seeing to" Mike caught his attention. The phone system in the house was so arranged that instead of calling an extension, one paged it. On some extensions, when this was done, the caller could hear what was being said in the other room. Mike had seen the little red light that indicated a call on the kitchen extension, and, not knowing who was listening in, did not wish to make his thoughts, or, indeed, his presence, known.

By the time Mike's day off came round, he was more than ready for a break. He was just preparing to buff up his motorcycle prior to going out, when Joanne came into the garage to collect Mrs Leigh's Mercedes SL500 that she liked to drive. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked, somewhat taken aback by the sight of Mike in his leathers. "As it's my day off, Miss Joanne, I'm heading into New York. I'll be back tomorrow afternoon. I shall be staying in my apartment in the Penthouse tonight."

"Oh," she said. "I forgot it was your day off. Aren't you hot in all that gear?"

Mike smiled. "Yes, I am. But at forty miles an hour, this leather means the difference between getting back on the machine after coming off and needing skin grafts. I'll be uncomfortable for the next couple of hours, but not the next five years."

Joanne seemed to relax a little, and she leaned against the Merc. "Actually," she said with a smile, tapping her lips with the car keys "You look quite good in all that leather." Mike blushed a little, and muttered something self-deprecating. "Actually, I'm glad you're going to be in New York tonight, as I shall be, too. Now, I don't need to find a hotel. See you there later."

Mike muttered to himself grumpily most of the way down the Long Island Expressway. He had intended to have a relaxing evening well away from work, but now She would be coming to upset his plans. He emerged sweating from the mid town tunnel, and expertly swung his motorbike through the traffic until he got to the apartment building, where the valet parking guy waved him through to his parking spot. Greeting Mike as effusively as he greeted everybody associated with the more heavily tipping of the building's occupants, he asked how everything was. Mike told him that he was back for his day off, would be leaving sometime the next day, and that Mr Leigh's niece would be parking the SL 500 overnight. It would probably need valeting.

Mike went up to the Penthouse, turned on the central air conditioning, and went through to his own quarters. He took off his leathers and had a refreshing shower, then changed into some casual slacks and a shirt. It was his day off, and Joanne couldn't expect him to dress up in his full striped pants and black jacket that day. He did, however, go into the guest room and, out of professional pride, make sure that all was well in there before going out to the supermarket to lay in some essentials such as eggs, milk and coffee for the morning. He returned to his room, and was quietly reading his book when he heard the whirr of the elevator doors announcing Joanne's arrival. She sauntered into the Penthouse, dropped he purse on the hall table, and watched the doorman carry her overnight bag and suiter into the guest room. She patted pockets, and said, "Michael would you . . .?" and Mike smiled and passed a note to the doorman who rolled his eyes as he headed for the elevator, muttering, "Good luck, Pal."

Joanne looked at Mike, casually dressed and holding his book, and said in a surprisingly gentle voice, "OK, Michael. I know it's your day off. I shouldn't be any bother. I have a hot date tonight, and I'll just get changed and go out. What are your plans?"

Mike shrugged his shoulders, and told her that he had no real plans. He meant to use his time off to recharge his batteries so that he could ensure that the rest of her stay was pleasant, and would probably go out for a bite of dinner and .have an early night. He asked if Joanne needed a car service, and as requested, arranged for a car to pick her up at 7.

Once Joanne was safely off the premises, Mike went into the guest room and quickly tidied and serviced the bathroom, mopping out the shower and laying out fresh towels. He turned down the bed, and checking that all was well, he went out for dinner. He went to small French restaurant that he liked on Lexington Avenue and where the staff knew him well enough to give him a good table, and mellowed by a couple of glasses of wine, Mike made his way back through a light summer shower. He was in his sitting room catching up with "The Daily Show" when he heard the telephone ring. Forgetting for the moment that he was supposed to be off duty, he muted the TV, and picked it up. "Good evening, the Leigh residence. This is Mike speaking, how may I help you?"

He heard what seemed to be sobbing. "Michael, is that you?"

"Yes. Who's calling?"

"It's me, Joanne Leigh. I need your help." He heard more sobbing and snuffling.

"Of course, Miss Joanne. What can I do?"

"Could you come and pick me up" I've just had the date from hell, and I'm stranded."

"Absolutely, Miss. Where are you?"

She gave him a downtown location, and he asked her to remain in bright streetlight whilst he came straight down. He called the valet parking for the Leigh's town car, and by the time he got to the lobby it was ready. Hopping in, he punched the address into the GPS, and let the car do the navigation as he drove it downtown. As he approached the intersection, he peered through the rain and saw Joanne huddled beneath a lamppost. He pulled alongside, and ran round with an umbrella to open the door for her. She hopped in, and as he resumed his seat, she said, "That was very gallant, but quite unnecessary. I'm already soaked." 

Noting from the way that she pronounced the word "shoaked", Mike guessed that Joanne had consumed quite a lot of booze. He drove carefully up town, as Joanne huddled against the window and gave out the occasional snuffle and sob. When they got back to the building, one of the doormen ran out to help Joanne down, and as she stumbled Mike saw that she had lost the heel from one of her Jimmy Choo shoes. Between them, Mike and the doorman got her to the elevator, where she shivered and dripped rainwater on the carpet all the way up to the Penthouse. Mike opened the door, and Joanne removed her shoes so that she could walk through with the semblance of steadiness. As she made for the guest room, Mike asked, "May I make you some coffee, Miss Joanne?" She turned, looked at him, and said, "Yes. Please. That would be nice."

Mike made coffee, and as he carried the tray through into the living room, Joanne entered it from the guest room. She was wearing a long, toweling bathrobe, her face was clean of make up and her wet, black hair was combed back behind her ears. She still seemed upset as she sat in the sofa, and Mike placed the tray with the coffee things close by. "Will that be all, Miss Joanne?" he asked.

"No, Michael, it won't. I want you to get a cup and sit down and have a coffee with me."

"Very well, Miss. I'm not sure that it's proper, but I'm here to do your bidding."

He brought a second cup from the kitchen, and poured coffee for the two of them. Joanne added cram and sugar to hers, took a sip, and put it on the table. Tears came to her eyes, and ran down her cheeks, and wordlessly, Mike passed over a box of tissues. As she leant forward to take one, the front of her robe fell open a little way, and Mike quickly and, he thought, unnoticed, averted his gaze. Joanne wiped her face, blew her nose, and held the tissue in her hand. Mike quietly took it from her, and placed it in the bin. As he returned to his chair, she glared at him. "Does nothing ever faze you, you cold Englishman?" she demanded.

"I don't know what you mean, Miss."

"I follow you into the City and fuck up your day off – yes I did, don't argue. I saw you got the room ready and then tidied it up after I went out. Then I get blitzed because of a crappy date where the guy passed out after doing cocaine and I call you out from your bed and you come without a word, and then make a pot of god-dammed coffee like there's nothing wrong. All week I've been trying to get to you, but it all just bounces off." 

"Miss Joanne, I work for your Uncle. He asked me to make your stay enjoyable, and I do my best. If it means I lose a bit of my day off, so be it. Your Uncle will make it up to me."

"But you haven't done everything you can. Lenny was right, if by "a good seeing to" he meant a good screw. I thought I was going to get one tonight, but the bastard passed out on me. Now it's down to you. I want you to come to bed with me." So saying, she stood up and pulled Mike to his feet and tried to kiss him.

Mike gently held her arms, and looked into her teary eyes. "Miss Joanne" he began, "I work for your Uncle, and I am, as I say, here to do your bidding. However, I don't know that I can do that which you ask. You have, if you'll forgive me for saying so, had quite a lot to drink tonight. If I come to bed with you, in the morning you could get all remorseful and call building security and have me charged with molesting you, and with the DNA evidence, I wouldn't have much of a defense."

Joanne glared at him, "You mean you're just going to leave me hanging like this?" 

"Forgive me, Miss, I was about to make a suggestion. I shall shortly, with your permission, retire to my own quarters. If you choose, after considering the matter for a few minutes, to visit me there, it would put a totally different slant on the way either of might feel in the morning."

With that, Mike stepped back, bowed his head briefly, and retired to his room. Closing the door behind him, he leaned on it for a moment, and sighed. Feeling stressed, he went into his bathroom and began to run a hot bath with his favorite lavender scented bubble bath for relaxation. He had just sunk into the bath, when he heard the door to his quarters open, and he heard Joanne's voice call his name softly. "I'm in the bath" he replied, and he felt a cool breeze as the bathroom door opened fully. Joanne stood there, still wearing her robe. "May I join you?" she asked, adding after a pause, "Please?" Mike sat up, and gestured with his arm. "Be my guest." Joanne turned her back on him, and stepped into the bath. Carefully, still facing away from him, she sat down between his legs and leaned forward. "This lavender seems so relaxing and good. Now, please, wash my back."

Mike took a washcloth and the soap that matched the bath foam, and began to wash Joanne's shoulders. He sensed the tension in the muscles, and, dropping the washcloth he used his soapy hands gently to massage her until he felt the muscles start to relax a little. Slowly, Joanne leaned back and Mike's hands moved down from her shoulders to the upper part of her chest, where he could feel the start of the swelling of her slightly droopy C cup breasts. He hands cam up and grabbed his, and guided them down so that he was cupping her breasts, lifting them and massaging them, teasing as his thumbs danced around the nipples without actually touching them. Joanne pressed his hands into her breasts more firmly, and he felt her ease her back closer to him. He leant forward and began to nibble her ear, as she reached behind her with both hands to pull his head forward so that he was nuzzling neck. Still mauling her breast with his left hand, he let his right move down over her stomach into the patch of hair he felt there, and as he felt her lips open to his middle finger, he slipped it inside and began a circular motion that also rubbed her clitoris with his knuckle. Joanne moaned, and said, "Not that. I can do that for myself. I want you do something that I can't do for myself."

They got out of the bath, and as they faced each other to dry off, Mike got his first view of her body. Shoulders, arms and legs tanned, but breasts and midriff white from the one-piece costume that she wore in the sun. Her breasts were drooping slightly, as he had felt, and there was the start of a little flab on her belly. Generally, though, she was in pretty good shape for her age, and as she finished drying herself she dropped the towel, and Mike saw the rich growth of black hair at her crotch, neatly trimmed and waxed into a triangle that would not show at the edges of her bathing suits. They stepped towards each other, and Joanne grasped at Mikes almost erect penis. "That's what I want." she said, "all of it."

They stepped through into Mike's small bedroom, and fell onto the bed where they lay on their sides facing each other, fondling as much of each other's bodies as they could reach. Slowly, Joanne rolled onto her back and Mike's finger's once again found their way to her hot, moist orifice. His fingertips danced around her clitoris, and teased open her lips, as once again she told him, "No. I can do that myself. I want you to . . . " She stopped talking with a squeal as Mike suddenly shuffled his body down the bed, and began kissing her lower stomach as he continued to tease her with his fingers. His lips felt the roughness of her pubic hair as he made his way south, and he felt her shudder as he parted her outer labia with his fingers, and began to gently dart at the opening with his tongue. All Joanne could do was moan and squeak as he delicately lapped at her opening portal, like a moth sucking nectar from an orchid, then she let out a shrill wailing whimper as his mouth quickly snapped on the emerging bud of her clitoris, before resuming its assault on her lips. Mike squirmed himself into a comfortable position, as he concentrated on the task in hand, as he coordinated the movement of the fingers now buried deep in Joanne with the dancing of his tongue on the labia and the occasional nibbles of her clitoris. He reached up with his free hand, and found her breast, and began to tweak the nipple as he concentrated more on the nibbling. He could sense Joanne's excitement rising, as she was getting noisier and noisier. Also, she was grinding her sopping wet pubis against his face as more and more moisture slicked his embedded finger. Suddenly, she shuddered violently, screamed, and Mike felt his hand and face get splashed as Joanne squirted from her vagina. Mike slowly withdrew his face, but left his finger in place as he gently stroked he clitoris as Joanne slowly wound down from her orgasm. 

She pushed his hand away as she struggled for breath, and glanced down at the mess between her legs. "Oh my God! I am so sorry. That has only happened to me a couple of times before, and I was thinking I was never going to have a female ejaculation again. And certainly not with a man."

As she lay recovering, Mike went to the bathroom and wiped his face, and returned with a hand towel soaked in warm water that he passed to Joanne to clean herself with. As she thanked him again, Mike lay down beside her, propped himself on his elbow, looked her in the eyes and smiled. "May I ask a question?"

"Sure you can. After that, ask anything you like!"

"What did you mean, when you said "not with a man" just now?"

Joanne looked at him. "Didn't you know? I'm bi-sexual. But none of my girl friends ever gave me head like that." Mike smiled again, "Not at all Miss Joanne. I endeavor to give satisfaction."

"Don't look so damned smug, buster, 'cos you ain't done giving satisfaction yet."

So saying, Joanne grabbed for Mike's penis, "I haven't sampled this, yet." So saying, she pulled Mike on top of her and maneuvered him into position, and he pushed himself into her. She moaned slightly, and asked him to go gently as she was still a little sensitive. Dutifully, Mike gently slid in and out of her, not thrusting fully inside her to avoid putting too much pressure on her clitoris. As time passed, however, Joanne started thrusting up harder herself, grinding her crotch into his as she surrendered to another orgasm which, whilst less powerful than her first, was nonetheless satisfying. The extra grip afforded his member by her tightening muscles was all that was necessary for Mike, who gave in to his own orgasm shortly afterwards. Pulling the now soaking covers off the bed, Mike and Joanne collapsed into each other's arms and fell asleep.

The next morning, Mike woke up and found Joanne sitting at the edge of the bed, with her bathrobe on. "Good morning, Miss Joanne." He whispered. "How do you feel this morning?" She turned to face him. "How do you think I feel? Half of me feels so guilty and used, but . . ."




Summer in the Hamptons Ch. 04



Mike drove the Mercedes back to Easthampton, leaving his motorcycle in the city. On the way back to the Leighs' house, he stopped at the carwash to have it detailed, and whilst he was waiting, his cell phone rang. He saw from the caller ID that it was Siobhan, and answered the call with some anticipation. Her gentle Irish brogue came from the phone.

"Hello, Mike. It's quite the stranger you've been lately."

"Stranger yourself," replied Mike, "I left messages, but it seems we've both been busy."

"You're right there. Anyway, if you're free tomorrow evening, I have the place to myself, and there's a little something that I need your help with."

Mike smiled to himself, as he could well imagine just what it was with which she needed help. "I can get away. Does 8 o'clock work for you?" The time being confirmed, Mike put his phone away and went back to his newspaper. He got back to the Leighs' house in time for a late snack, and Lenny told him that he was taking advantage of the absence of their employers to take a few days off. Mike and he spent the rest of the day checking all was well in the house and stocking up on supplies. The Leighs weren't due back for another week, but it was as well to be prepared. Mike then went back to his own little small apartment over the garage, and got showered and changed whilst Lenny packed his things and he decided what to do about dinner.

Later that evening, he took out the Jeep Cherokee that served as the staff car, drove Lenny to the Jitney stop, and then went on to his favorite restaurant for dinner. As always, the Hostess, Christina, greeted him enthusiastically. .

"Mike!" she said, "Good to see you again. We haven't seen so much of you this summer, have we? Busy?"

"Yeah. Lots of houseguests keeping me running about pandering to their every whim. That's why I came here so that somebody could pamper me for a change. If you have a table for one available, of course?" The room was a lot busier than it had been on his previous visit, but Christina looked across to the far side near the kitchen door. 

"I've got just the place for you. You can sit and people watch, the way you like to. Also, it's in Erica's section, and I know you like her. Plus she likes you, so you should get your pampering!" Mike raised an eyebrow, as he had only been in three or four times that summer, although thinking about it, Erica had served him on all but one occasion. Christina smiled, "She's always asking after That Handsome Englishman, and has actually asked me to sit you in her section if I can." Mike raised the other eyebrow, and Chris chuckled, "I'm pretty sure that she would let you get naughty, if you asked nicely." Mike followed Christina to his table, admiring as always her shapely rear. She seated him, gave him the menu and winked at him. "I'll tell Erica you're here."

As Mike looked at the familiar menu, Erica came over with a vodka martini. "I remembered that you liked this." She said with her marked Australian accent, "And Christina said that as you need pampering tonight, your drinks are on the house." As she poured the cocktail from the shaker over the olives on their stick into the glass, Mike smiled to himself. Christina knew full well that if he were driving, he wouldn't be drinking too much. Erica told him the specials, and left Mike to think whilst she went to attend to other diners. 

Mike sipped his martini as he gazed around the room. There was the usual Hamptons summer mixture, mostly couples, but with the occasional larger party. Mike's attention was drawn to a party of eight who were in the process of giving Erica their order. It sounded very complicated, as they sorted out who was sharing which appetizer with whom, what wines to order, who wanted substitutions on their main courses whilst several people kept changing their minds. Eventually, Erica got the order sorted, and disappeared into the kitchens. Several minutes passed, and Mike had finished his martini before Erica had returned. He caught the barman's eye, and when Erica emerged from the kitchen, she fetched his fresh drink before coming to take his order. She started to apologize, but Mike waved her to silence. 

"Don't worry about it. I'm in no hurry, and you'll get a much bigger tip from them than from me. Concentrate on them, and you fit me in as you can."

As he sipped his second martini, Mike continued his people watching, but found his eyes drifting back to Erica, as she flitted efficiently from table to table, although she did seem to be having some difficulty with the larger party as they consumed their meal. They became more boisterous as the levels in their wine bottles went down, and they kept up a steady stream of requests.

As his food came and Mike ate his dinner, he noticed that his wine glass seemed to be getting refilled rather more often than usual. He looked at Erica when she brought a third glass – or was it the fourth? – and she rested her hand on his arm. "Don't worry – think of it as pampering."

"I'm grateful, but I have to drive." he protested.

Erica smiled, "Don't worry about that. I've spoken to Chris, and we'll get you home."

Mike took his time, and carried on watching Erica. She was quite pretty, with dirty blonde hair in a ponytail, and a slender figure under her waitress' uniform. Every so often, she caught him watching, and flashed little smiles at him. Eventually, the restaurant started to empty, and the large party seemed to take for ever sorting out the check. Mike could see Erica seething quietly as the discussion bounced around the table, as people argued who had had what to eat and drink. Eventually, it was sorted out and Erica went to the till to process the different sums on the six different credit cards that had been proffered. As the party left, Erica picked up the wallet, looked inside and glared at the closing door.

"Cheap bastards!" Christina went over, and looked at the credit card slips. "Cheap bastards is right." she said. Mike looked at them, and Chris said, "Total check was for a little over $650. What would you tip on that?"

Mike did the math, and said, "Should be around $120."

Chris and Erica looked at each other, then at him. "Those cheap bastards paid it all on credit cards, and left a lousy fifteen bucks." Mike was amazed, as he thought everyone knew that the "standard" was at least double the tax showing on the check. Christina shook her head, "I know who they are, too. They share a rented house and I know that the rent for the summer is over a hundred grand. They all work on Wall Street, and must each earn over half a million a year."

Mike shook his head, "Nouveau riche, I'm afraid ladies, nouveau riche."

Chris looked at Erica, "Don't worry, I'll see you're OK. You sit down and have a glass of with Mike before we see about getting him home." 

Erica brought a couple of glasses of wine over, and sat down. They grumbled to each other about the Summer People, as the bus boys cleared the restaurant, and before he knew it there were just the three of them. Chris's husband, Bill, came out of the kitchen, and joined the party, but after just one drink expressed himself ready for bed. Chris said she would lock up, and told Mike that Erica was going to drive him home. 

As Erica got her things, Mike asked, "Did you set this up? And what about my check?"

"Yes, but only on request. Now, go, enjoy! And you dinner was on us, tonight"

Mike felt a little unsteady on his legs as they left the restaurant, and Erica took his arm as they walked to her car. He got in, and as they left the car park, he pointed out that they were going the wrong way to get to his place. Erica gave a little giggle, and asked, "Who said we're going straight to your place?" Mike sat quietly as Erica drove them northwards, away from the fashionable and expensive area and towards the northern shore. 

Eventually, they drew up outside a darkened house, and Erica pulled into the small driveway. They got out of the car, and again, Erica took Mike's arm and guided him through the dark front yard to the door. As she fumbled in her purse for her keys, Mike began to ask where they were. She put a finger to his lips, and said, "No questions for now, OK?"

They went inside, and Erica turned on a light. Mike looked round the small but comfortable living room, and saw that there was a small kitchen area, and several doors. Erica put her purse down, and said, "Don't worry, my room mate's away, so we have the place to ourselves. Make yourself comfy whilst I get out of this uniform." She opened a bottle of wine, poured a couple of glasses and gave Mike one as she slipped through one of the doors. Mike shrugged his shoulders, and not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, sat on the sofa to await developments. Before long, Erica emerged, having exchanged her waitress uniform for a loose fitting sweatshirt and pants. Always the gentleman, he stood as the lady entered the room, and waited as she approached and stood right in front of him. 

She sipped her wine, put down her glass, gazed into his eyes and said, "I suppose you're wondering why I brought you here."

"Well, a number of ideas did go through my mind."

She stepped closer, reached up and put her arms around his neck. "Let me help you think." she said, and kissed his lips gently. She moved even closer, and pressed herself against him as the kiss intensified. She nibbled at his top lip, then the bottom one, and he returned the favor. Pulling away slightly, they looked into each other's eyes and then their lips locked once more. 

This time, their mouths opened, and their tongues fought a dainty duel as each tried to get into the other's mouth. Mike placed his hands on Erica's waist, and felt his manhood start to harden as she rubbed herself gently against him. Once again, they broke off their kiss, and Erica panted, "This way, quick" and pulled him through into her room. As she pushed the door shut behind them, she pushed Mike back against it and they resumed their necking. Mike started to move his hands over Erica's back, stroking gently he soon discovered from the absence of a strap that she was not wearing a brassiere. Sliding one hand down to stroke her rump, he slid the other to the front. She moved slightly to allow him room, and he groped her small, soft breast through the sweatshirt and he felt the nipple begin to harden. 

He felt one of Erica's hands slide down his body to reach for his now rigid penis, which she stroked a couple of times before starting to pull his polo shirt from his waist. He had to bring his arms from around her to allow her to remove his shirt, and he then reached for her sweat shirt and pulled it over head, revealing her slim torso. She really was very thin, and her small breasts seemed to sag rather but he barely had time to notice this before she dropped to her knees and reached for his belt buckle. Before he knew it, his pants and boxers were round his ankles, and he lifted one foot at a time as she expertly removed the last vestiges of his clothing with his shoes and socks. Looking up at him, she gripped his penis with both hands, and lowered her mouth to kiss the end. She stood up, and deftly slid down her sweat pants and panties, and stood before him. 

"You like?" she asked.

Mike gazed at her, and saw her body for the first time naked. She had shaken her dirty blonde hair from its ponytail, and it framed her elfin face as she struck a model's pose, with her hands on her hips and one leg slightly bent. He took in her soft breasts with their hard little nipples resting against a visible rib cage, and her firm stomach leading down to a small tuft of wiry dark brown hair nestling between her thighs. . "I like!" he said, to which she replied by gesturing to the bed. Mike lay down on his back, and Erica lay beside him, raised herself on her left elbow and reached for his penis with her right hand. 

She kissed him softly, and said, "I've fancied you for ages. Ever since you first came into the restaurant. I've fantasized so often about this, and now you're here. You don't have to touch me, I'm already soaking wet. I've been wet since we got into the car. I just want to do – this." 

So saying, she threw her leg over Mike, and knelt up looking down at him. She guided the tip of his penis to the sopping outer lips of her vagina, and lowered herself until she was fully impaled. She leaned forward slightly, and put her hands on his chest. She closed her eyes and smiled. 

"I've wanted this for so long. I think if you move the slightest bit, I'll come straight away." 

Mike mischievously flexed his hips slightly, Erica fell forward onto him with a whimper, and Mike held her close whilst whole body shuddered. He felt the walls of her vagina grip him like a vice, then relax slightly, then tighten as she gave another shudder, and then relax totally, as she gave a sigh. Feeling that it was his turn now, Mike began to move slowly up against her, and she pulled him sideways until she lay on her back with he legs spread wide as he plunged in and out of her until he felt his own orgasm approach. As he increased his pace, Erica thrust back against him and he heard her say, "Oh my God, I'm coming again!" as he jerked and emptied his seed inside her.

Mike rolled off, and lay on his back once more, gasping air, as he felt the cool air on his wet and shrinking penis. Erica snuggled against him, and he felt her wet bush against his hip as she put an arm round him. "Thanks, that was great. I had been waiting so long for that."

"I'm glad you think it was worth waiting for."

"Was it ever! I don't hear you complaining, either." 

"No, it was great for me, too."

"Come on, let's get cleaned up." 

Erica pulled Mike from the bed and into the small bathroom. As she ran the shower to get the temperature right, Mike took a quick pee and was about to get in the shower, when Erica squeezed past him, sat on the toilet, and let her own stream go. When she finished, they both got under the shower and reveled in the stream of warm water. Erica reached for the soap, and began to lather Mike's back. They changed positions, and he washed her back. Turning round, they faced each other and passed the soap too and fro as they washed each other totally. Mike spent some time on washing Erica's breasts, intrigued by the way that they moved so loosely over her rib cage. Gradually, his hands strayed over her tummy and down towards her private area. Surprisingly, she stopped him, and quietly but insistently saw to it they each washed their own genitals. When they were both rinsed off, they emerged from the shower and dried off. Returning to the bed, Mike lay on his back, and dozed with Erica cuddled up in his arms.

Some hours later, Mike awoke feeling rather hung-over. His head had a dull ache, and his tongue felt as thought it were glued to the roof of his mouth. He was conscious of Erica, still curled up against his left side, and the increasing cramp in his left arm, within the embrace of which she lay cradled. He moved to try and get comfortable, gently to avoid waking her, but realized that he had failed when he felt her stir. 

He began to apologize, but she shut him up by placing her mouth over his and beginning a slow, passionate kiss. If that kiss had not been enough to get him aroused again, the gentle ministrations of her hand as it fluttered about his slowly resurrecting penis would have done the trick. He rolled over to face her, and they kissed. He rolled a little further, and now Erica was on her back, kissing him back with increasing ardor. His left arm was trapped under her head and shoulder, but as their kisses grew more passionate, his right hand roved her body, finally coming to rest between her thighs. She spread her legs for him, and he began to stoke gently up and down her nether lips, occasionally straying to tease her clitoris. 

Erica squeezed his penis, and growled, "If you don't stop teasing me, I'm going to break this off." 

Mike slowly started kissing his way down her body, paying a lot of attention to her nipples before finally ending up with his face in her wiry pubes, and licked gently at her labia maxima. 

"Just keep doing that." breathed Erica, as she moved her fingers down and began stroking her clitoris. Mike kept an eye on her hand, and as she speeded up her movements, so he increased the rate at which he lapped at her portal. Soon, with a cry, Erica reached orgasm, and Mike continued licking the flow of juices as they oozed from her gash. 

As she slowly came back to earth, Mike moved back up the bed and cuddled her. She reached for his penis, and said, "Your turn, I think." and, once again, swung over and mounted him. This time, she kept one hand on his chest whilst she used the other to rub her clitoris, and maintained eye contact as she swiveled her hips. Her movements became slightly erratic, and Mike could feel her moisture flowing down over the base of his penis, soaking his pubic hair before trickling down over his scrotum to be absorbed by the bedding, Very quickly, they pulsated to almost simultaneous orgasms, and fell asleep with Erica lying on top of Mike, his wilting flesh still encased within her drying flesh.

When dawn came up, their bodies were still entwined, and Mike felt Erica's small hand slowly working on his penis. 

"Please, just do it one more time." 

Mike rolled over on top of her, and slid easily into her wet opening. She wrapped her arms and legs round him, and said, 

"I've already come more than I thought I could in one night. Just use me." 

Mike began a slow motion, but Erica squeezed his buttocks to indicate that he should speed up. He felt her vaginal muscles tighten and relax around him and before long, he began to lose control until he ejaculated deep inside her. As he came, Erica held him close until his penis shrank and popped from her, and they rolled over onto their sides, where they lay gasping for breath and planting light kisses on each other. 

Erica broke the silence, "Well, I didn't think I could, but I had yet another orgasm. Not huge, but nice all the same. Thank you." 

Mike smiled at her, and said, "No, thank you. It's been great. I can't remember a night like this."

With a quick final kiss, Erica pulled Mike from the bed, and said, "Shower time, again." and they returned to the bathroom. This time they washed each other slowly and gently, but being both quite sated, without arousal. Again, Erica insisted on washing her own pubis pleading that she was now a little tender down there after the night's activities.

They dressed, and stopped at Candy Kitchen for breakfast as they returned to the restaurant to collect Mike's car. As he gave her a goodbye kiss, Mike asked if he could see her again. She shook her head, and gave a grin. 

"Sorry." she said, "Yesterday was my last day here. My visa is about to expire, and I have to go back to Australia. My flight's tonight. But I'm glad we had last night – I had been wanting it for a while, and it's given me a great memory to take away with me."

So saying, she gave him a peck on the cheek, ran back to her car, and gave a cheerful wave as she drove away and out of Mike's life.



Summer in the Hamptons Ch. 05



Mike watched Erica drive away, and climbed back into the Cherokee to return to work. The day passed quite pleasantly, as with no residents there wasn't a huge amount to do. Indeed, thinking ahead to his date with Siobhan that evening, he took a nap in the afternoon in order that he would be fully rested.

At the appointed time, Mike arrived at Siobhan's employer's rented house, and he parked up at the rear by the garage. As he got out, Siobhan came to greet him, which she did with a gentle hug and a peck on the cheek. Her flaming red gold hair was held back from her face by a black headband, and she wore a light cotton sundress. 

"Good to see you" she said, and took his hand as she led him into the house. "I've got some food ready, if you want a quick bite before I get you to see the item I need your help with." 

They walked through to the kitchen, where places were set either side of a bowl containing a cold pasta salad. They chatted inconsequentially as they ate, Siobhan explaining that she would have called Mike sooner, but that her employers had kept her busy the whole time. It hadn't helped when the nanny had left, adding a fair amount of childcare to her duties. They had gone to New York for a couple of days to interview nannies, and she hoped that this would ease her burden somewhat. Not just the physical burden of the extra work, but having lost a child herself in a miscarriage after a road accident, she found looking after somebody else's child very hard.

When they had finished their food, Siobhan put the plates and utensils in the dishwasher. 

"So," Mike asked her, "What was it that needs my attention?" 

Siobhan blushed slightly, and said, "It was something that you helped with before. Remember we said we'd help each other out if we needed something?" Mike nodded. "Well," she continued, I need you to make love to me again. I want to be held, and cosseted and made to feel special. And I want to try a couple of new things."

"New things?" asked Mike, raising his eyebrows. 

Siobhan blushed again. "That time we had together last time woke up some feelings that I haven't had for a long time. I've missed you, and I've fantasized a bit. Come on, follow me."

Mike followed her through the house, noting that he could just make out the shape of her firm slender body through the tin material of her sundress as she walked. Thinking that were heading for her small apartment over the pool house, he was surprised when, instead, she led the way outside to the pool area. Surrounded by trees, the pool was secluded allowing privacy for the users. Siobhan led the way to the hot tub, and Mike noticed that steam was rising from it. She turned to face him. 

"This is one of the new things I wanted to try." she said, and proceeded to remove her dress. She was naked beneath it, and Mike once again took in the sight of her body. The small, firm breasts, the tight stomach and the strong legs, but there was something different. It took him a little while to notice, but it looked as though she had trimmed back the wild growth of red hair between her legs. She turned from him, and slid into the tub. 

"Come on in, the water's lovely." Mike quickly stripped, climbed in and sat beside her. She turned her head, kissed him on the lips, and their hands began to wander over each other's torsos. His hand found her breast, and she moaned slightly as he teased the nipple into even greater hardness. She adjusted her position, moving slightly away and when Mike asked what the matter was, and she replied with a grin. 

"Oh, nothing's the matter. I'm getting the water jet to blow just right." 

He could feel her squirming as he moved his hand down, and could feel the warm jet of water as he reached into her pubic hair. She pulled his hand away, and said, "It's OK, I'm ready, just slide across here." Mike moved across, and felt the flow of water on his penis. Not for long, because straight away Siobhan moved over in front of him. With her back to him, she guided the tip of his penis into her, and slowly sat down. 

Mike eased his bottom forward on the seat so that he could penetrate her more deeply, and reached up from behind her to hold her breasts in his hands. Siobhan began wriggle on his penis, and the combination of his penis inside her, the stimulation of her nipples and the blast of warm water against her clitoris soon had her moaning with delight as she rode to orgasm. He held her as she calmed down, and she got off him and sat beside him again. Reaching down, she felt his erection.

"Looks like I beat you to it again. Shall we go inside for round two?" 

They picked up their clothes, and ran naked and giggling like school kids into her apartment. Grabbing a couple of towels from the bathroom, they quickly dried off and Siobhan pushed Mike back down onto the bed. 

"This is the other thing I wanted to try," she said, as she lowered her head towards his still rampant erection. 

"It's OK." said Mike, "You don't have to do that."

"But I want to." she replied, "Now don't talk as I can't reply. A lady shouldn't speak with her mouth full." 

She held his penis in her hand, and rubbed the hole in the end gently with her thumb to spread the precum. Suddenly, she lowered her head and began to do the same thing with the tip of her tongue. Combining this with a firm stroking of the shaft, and a gentle sucking motion, Mike knew he wouldn't last long. She ceased what she was doing just long enough to say, "You can come in my mouth. I want to try the taste." before resuming with a vengeance. 

Already highly aroused from the session in the hot tub, it was a very short time before Mike found himself erupting helplessly into Siobhan's mouth. Despite what she had said, she gagged slightly and pulled her mouth away leaving him to spurt over her hand as his stomach. She hopped from the bed and ran to the bathroom, and Mike heard the sound of gargling before she returned with a damp washcloth to wipe him clean.

"I'm sorry about that, but I've never done that before and it took me by surprise a bit."

Mike held out his arms for her, and she cuddled up next to him. 

"Are you sure it was alright for you?" she asked, "It was so good when you did it to me last time that I wanted to do it for you. I read up on how to do it on a site I found on line."

Mike held her close, "It was great. And thank you for being so thoughtful. But if you enjoyed it when I did it for you, are you ready to try it again?" 

Without waiting for an answer, he gently pushed Siobhan over onto her back and kissed her. Slowly, he kissed his way down her body paying a lot of attention to her breasts on the way. When he reached her lower stomach, she opened her legs and Mike saw that not only had she trimmed back her pubic hair, but had shaved it around her lips. As he gazed, he saw the labia swell slightly, and open slightly, glistening with moisture. 

"May I?" he said, as he blew gently onto her, 

"I thought you'd never ask." she replied breathlessly as he placed his tongue delicately on her lips and began to lick away the juices that began to flow. Spreading her open with his hands, he began to give her a tongue-lashing that had her groaning with delight. Every so often, he moved slightly, and darted his tongue over her clitoris, then he began to do this with increasing frequency. Finally, he sucked the clitoris into his mouth as he inserted two fingers into her and began sliding them in and out while he sucked frantically. She bucked against his face, and he felt his chin and hand getting soaked as her juices oozed past his fingers.

Siobhan began to make wailing sounds, and suddenly stopped her movements and just shuddered against him. She gently pushed his head and hand from her, and began to pull him up the bed. 

"I want you inside me, now." she said.

Effortlessly Mike slid himself into her. 

"Just fuck me, now, hard. I want to feel your cock hammering into me." 

Mike began to move in and out, and heard Siobhan keep up an almost incoherent flow of words amongst which he could just make out, "harder" and "faster". He felt her buck against him, and as he felt himself start to ejaculate, she screamed, and went completely rigid, save for a rapid shuddering as she reached her own orgasm. Her vaginal muscles gripped him so hard that was unable to move, and it was with some relief that he felt her whole body begin to relax. Breathing hard and sweating, they clung to each other as they came down from their orgasmic highs, and Mike eased himself from on top of Siobhan to lie beside her. 

"That – was – amazing!" Siobhan whispered as she nestled into the crook of his arm. "I never felt that way before. It was even better than last time. Thank you." 

Mike held her close and kissed the top of her head. 

"Thank you," he said, "It was special for me, too."

"Did you like the way I shaved for you? It was on the same website that I read up about doing it for you. Says it makes it more sensual for both – it worked for me!"

Mike grinned, "I noticed. And yes, I liked it. You're even more perfect than you were before. Now, let's get cleaned up before we sleep." They showered together, familiar now with each other's bodies, and returned to the bed. 

As Mike spooned up against Siobhan's back, she whispered, "Good night, lover of mine" and they both drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Mike woke to find Siobhan still in his arms, though during the night they had moved so that once again she nestled in the crook of his arm. He lightly kissed her forehead, and she stirred, sleepily. 

"Good morning, you." she said, looking up at him.

He lightly kissed her again, and asked, "How do you feel this morning, Siobhan? No remorse, like last time?"

"No remorse. Just fulfillment" she replied, and moved slightly up against his body to kiss him. Their lips parted, and they enjoyed a long, gentle kiss as their hands began to roam delicately over each other. Mike's erection began to manifest itself between her thighs, and she opened them slightly to allow it to grow. She lifted her leg, and hooked it over his and he found the tip of his penis rubbing gently against the smooth, wet entrance to her vagina. Still gently kissing, they adjusted their bodies so that he slid smoothly into her, and they slowly rocked their way to gentle, almost simultaneous orgasms.

After they showered and dressed, Mike got ready to leave. Siobhan's employers were due back later that day, and she had a lot to do. As he got ready to get into the car, they enjoyed a lingering kiss. 

"We must do this again, soon" said Mike.

"We must," replied Siobhan, "But I think I need a bit of recovery time! I'll call you, I promise." 



Summer in the Hamptons Ch. 06



Mike enjoyed his last few days of the quiet life before Mr & Mrs Leigh returned. It wasn't that they were too demanding when they were at home, but they did expect their staff to do that for which they were paid. When they returned, routine was soon established and life continued placidly.

As his next days off neared, Mike made plans to return to the City, chiefly in order to collect his beloved BMW motorcycle. On the due day, Lenny dropped him off at the Jitney stop and just as the bus approached, his cell phone rang. It was Joanne Leigh.

"Michael, is that you?"

"Yes, Miss Joanne."

"Are you headed back to the City?"

"I am indeed, Miss, but I can't talk now as the Jitney has just arrived, and they have a strict policy on cell phone usage."

"Would you call me when you get in? I have a favor to ask." 

"I certainly will, Miss, but I have to go now as the Jitney's here."

Mike climbed into the cool bus, and settled into the comfortable leather seat. He was more than happy to pay the extra for the Ambassador Service, as it was so much more civilized. Why, you even got a glass – well, plastic – of wine.

It being a weekday, the journey was uneventful and darkness was just falling as Mike walked the few blocks from the bus stop on 3rd Avenue to the Leigh's apartment on 5th. He let himself in, went into his little sitting room, poured himself a glass of wine and pressed Joanne's speed dial. She obviously had his number programmed into her own phone, as she greeted him by name when she replied.

"Michael? Are you in town now?"

"Yes, Miss Joanne. What can I do for you?"

"Michael, my girl friend had to come to New York on a business trip, and I came with her. I left a set of earrings in my Uncle's apartment on my last visit. I can't think how that happened – I must have got distracted. Anyway, could you find them and bring them over to our hotel this evening?"

Mike affirmed that he could, of course, do this small task, and she gave him a description of the earrings and the name of her hotel. Mike checked the guest room, and found that the housekeeper had put the jewelry, which she obviously didn't recognize, in a prominent place with a note addressed to him. He thought that he might as well get cleaned up before he went out, so that he could stay out after his errand if he wished. He shaved, took a shower, and dressed himself in a pair of black leather pants, a black shirt and lightweight black sport coat. He admired himself in the mirror, and thought of a couple of trendy spots in the Village whom he might deign to grace with his patronage later on.

He took a cab to Joanne Leigh's hotel, where he gave his name to the Security Guard, who made a phone call. 

"You're to go right up, Sir. It's room 2047."

Mike hopped in the elevator, found the room quite easily and knocked on the door. It opened, and a complete stranger with a towel wrapped round her head peered out at him.

"Are you Michael?"

"Yes, I am."

"Oh, Hi! I'm Jo's friend, Miriam. Do you have her earrings? Come on in, she'll be out of the shower in a minute."

She opened the door, and Mike walked past her into the large room. Miriam followed him, and crossed the room to call into the bathroom, "Jo, honey, Michael's here. I'll give him a drink while he waits for you." Miriam crossed the room, her long Shanghai Tang bathrobe clinging to what Mike could see was a stunning body.

"Red wine?"

Mike nodded, she brought the wine over and indicated to Mike where he should sit on the couch. As he sipped his wine, Miriam reached up and loosened the towel around her head. "I hope you don't mind, but Jo will be hogging the dryer for a few minutes." She used the towel to rub her shortish, blonde hair dry and to pat it into some kind of shape. 

"I hear you ride a motorcycle. I was quite a bike fan for a while." Miriam said by way of a small talk ice breaker, and on Mike telling her what sort of bike he had they spent the next few minutes comparing notes and discussing the relative merits of BMW machines as against Harley Davidsons, or, "Hardly Rideables" as Mike somewhat scathingly called them. Unbidden, Miriam refilled Mike's wine glass as the level sank. Mike noticed this, and slowed down his sip rate. He also noticed that as she leant forward with the bottle, a little more cleavage was revealed each time. 

Eventually, the bathroom door opened, and Joanne emerged. She was also wearing a silk robe, but hers was far shorter than Miriam's showing a great deal of her curvaceous thighs. Mike rose to greet her, and the exchanged pecks on the cheek and Mike handed over the earrings. 

"That's so good of you to bring these over on your day off.."

"Not at all, Miss Joanne. It's no trouble at all."

Joanne stood back and looked at him. Her arms were crossed, as she held her robe closed. She looked across at Miriam, who poured some more wine for the three of them, and the two women held hands and looked at Mike in silence. He was starting to feel a little uncomfortable.

"Miriam took a gulp of her wine, "Shit, Jo, you're right. He does look good in those leather pants."

Joanne looked at her girl friend, "You should see him out of them."

"And you say he gives good head?"

"Miriam, baby, he's almost better than you."

"No shit! And I learned from the best, Jo, you."

The two women put down their wine glasses and embraced warmly. Breaking off their kiss and panting slightly, they looked each other in the eyes and approached Mike until one was standing on each side. They each took a lapel of his coat and eased it from his shoulders before draping it over the back of a chair. Mike stood still, a little unsure as to what was expected of him. He noticed that the two women's robes had become a little disheveled, and he could see most of Joanne's left breast and the dark triangle between her thighs that he remembered so well. Each woman kissed his cheek and he found his head being pulled towards Joanne, who kissed him on the lips. Pulled the other way, he found himself in an open mouth kiss with Miriam, whose tongue rapidly invaded his mouth and darted around. He could feel two sets of arms embracing him, and busy fingers undoing his shirt buttons then running through his chest hair. His shirt joined his jacket, and as Joanne pulled him round for a kiss, he felt Miriam's hands running over his leather covered butt and up and down his legs a few times, each time getting closer to his groin.

Joanne broke of the kiss, and knelt down on the floor next to Miriam. They both caressed his legs and butt one last time before reaching for his belt buckle and fly zipper. As they opened his pants, his penis sprang free, although remained encased in his silk boxer shorts. Miriam pulled the elastic of his shorts out, and looked in.

"That'll do nicely for one of us later!" she said mischievously, as she and Joanne pulled his pants down. They pushed him onto the sofa, and when he was seated, they were able to pull his trousers, socks and shoes right off. Standing up, they looked at one another, and pulled Mike's boxers off as well. The stood, simultaneously unbelted their silk robes, and shrugged them off their shoulders to lie in two shimmering heaps on the floor.

Mike looked from one to the other. Joanne's body he remembered well from a couple of weeks ago, notwithstanding his subsequent trysts with Erica and Siobhan. It did look as though she had started to work out a bit, as her tummy seemed a little firmer. Miriam, on the other hand, obviously spent time and money working on her body. Her 38D breasts rode high on her chest, with the raspberry nipples pointing slightly above the horizontal. Her tummy muscles were tight, and a tightly curled landing strip of black hair showed above the conjuncture of her thighs. She caught Mike staring at it, and said with a smile, "Holy crap, Mike, with a name like Miriam you expected a real blonde?" They each grabbed Mike by an arm, and pulled him up. He held them both close, feeling their nipples dig into his side and their coarse bushes rubbing against the outside of his thighs. He kissed them alternatively, as they shuffled a little awkwardly towards the bed, rubbing their backs and their buttocks with his hands. Miriam pulled away, and lay flat.

"My turn first. You've tried him already." So saying, she pulled Mike down beside her and they began a gentler open-mouthed kiss, as Mike's hand drifted down her body to her tummy and back up to her breasts. She gave a little gasp as he tweaked her left nipple, and another as he tweaked the right. Moving his head down, he nibbled each nipple in turn, then gave alternate nibbles with his teeth, and tweaks with his finger and thumb. As he changed his oral action to alternate swirling motions of his tongue around her nipples, his hand moved slowly down her stomach, past the neatly tailored patch of fur to the hot, slimy morass of her vaginal opening. His fingers gave a gentle swipe over her slippery lips to carry some moisture up to lubricate her clitoris and as he very tenderly stroked it, she let out little squeals. 

Aware of movement, Mike glanced up, and saw that Joanne was lying on the bed, facing him and Miriam. Her leg was raised, and he could see her finger glisten with moisture as she slowly played with herself. She moved her eyes from his down towards Miriam's mound, then back to meet Mike's gaze again. She nodded her head towards where his fingers were causing Miriam to buck her hips a little, then she stuck out her tongue and waggled it provocatively from side to side.

Mike took the hint, and began to run his tongue down over Miriam's stomach, where he paused to run it round her navel. Continuing south, he soon reached her soaking vagina where he gently licked her swollen, red labia, before thrusting his tongue into her. He adjusted his position so that he was lying flat on his stomach between her thighs, his penis leaking slightly onto the bed cover. He concentrated hard on Miriam's pleasure, reacting to her squeals and moans of pleasure as he varied what he was doing. He licked her lips, he slurped inside her, he ran his coarse tongue over her raw sensitive clitoris, then sucked that tender bud into his mouth and nibbled it gently.

As he did this, he was half aware of Joanne moving, and before he knew it she was lying face down on top of his back, and he could feel her pubes rubbing against the back of his knee. He bent his leg, and he felt the wetness as she began to rub herself against his calf muscles. He reached round under her with his right hand, and was able to get his fingers into contact with her clitoris, which he stimulated whilst she rubbed herself on his leg..

Mike was now fully occupied. His mouth was French kissing Miriam's vagina, whilst he had maneuvered his left hand so that he had a couple of fingers running up and down inside her. His right hand was stimulating Joanne, and as he sensed both women reaching orgasm, he realized the only one not getting much out of this apart from some contortions was himself.

Miriam now began bucking hard against his face, and he had to move his hand away from Joanne to hold her hips down as he frantically licked, sucked and nibbled her into orgasm. With a shrill scream, Miriam convulsed as she came, clamping her thighs on Mike's head. Three enormous, body wracking spasms, and she relaxed. Joanne flung herself from Mike's back onto the mattress next to her girl friend, and tugged on Mike's hair.

"Quick, my turn, I'm nearly there."

Mike sashayed across the bed, leaving a thin snail trail of seminal fluid on the bed. He plunged head first between Joanne's thighs, and began munching on her as he pushed two fingers inside. Within seconds, she whimpered, quivered violently, and, as before, spurted gobbets of liquid down over Mike's chin as she came. Mike knelt up and looked down at the two gasping women, their vaginas red and shiny, pubic hair matted and coiled, their bodies slick with sweat and their chests flushed with orgasm. He flopped down between them, wiped the body fluids from his face on a pillow, and lay on his back. In turn, Joanne and Miriam turned to face him, and reached across him to hold hands. As they did so, they brushed against his still rigid penis.

Miriam spoke. "Poor boy, we can't leave him like this."

"No, we can't. Do you want to?"

"Do you? You're more into the penis thing than I am."

"OK, I'll take care of it, like it's another household chore!" she laughed.

Mike was again beginning to feel a little detached from the proceedings, as he felt Joanne move. Her head went down his body, and she said, "Do you mind if I do this? I'm just too tender from your ministrations to . . . you know." With that, she lowered her head even further and began to give Mike the best blowjob he could remember for a while. She used her tongue and teeth on the glans and her fingers on the shaft with such grace and artistry Mike hoped that the experience would never end; Joanne seemed to be doing her best to prolong the experience for him, using a light delicate touch and stopping frequently to blow on his penis and cool it.

Meanwhile, Miriam had moved, and was watching closely. She looked up at Mike, and said, "I think I could go one more round." and she levered herself upright, and placed her knees either side of Mike's arms. Edging forward, she positioned her vagina over Mike's mouth and lowered herself so that he could reach. "Just lick at the lips, I'll do the rest." she breathed. Mike licked at her labia, swallowing the juices, as Miriam gently but with increasing speed rubbed her clitoris. Mike was aware of Joanne also rubbing herself with her free hand as she ministered to him, and before long all three of them climaxed with seconds of each other. Miriam came first, with a little cry, and Mike felt his ejaculation being sucked fiercely from him and swallowed by Joanne, who shortly after succumbed to her own self-administered orgasm.

The three of them collapsed on the bed and dozed of in post coital exhaustion. Mike woke first and as he stretched to get into a more comfortable position, he couldn't help but wake the ladies.

Miriam gave a stretch, and reached for her lover.

"Fuckin' hell, babe. You were right. This guy can eat pussy. Mike, honey, are you sure you're not a closet lesbian?"

Mike laughed. "No, I'm not. However, I found out a long time ago that it's much more fun for the man if the woman enjoys it too. So I went and took some lessons."

Both women sat up.

"You took lessons?" burst out Miriam.

"Yes. I found this amazing hooker in London when I worked at The Palace. We actually met socially, and it was a while before she told me that she was on the game. I asked her to show me round, as it were, and show me the sort of things that you girls enjoy. She ended up enjoying it too, and in the end I was getting a discount."

"Is that for real?"

"It certainly is. I needed several sessions to complete the Course of Instruction, but I think it was almost the best £4,000 I ever spent."

"Almost?"

"Well, it's a toss up between that and my first motorcycle."

The women laughed and playfully hit him with pillows. Joanne looked at Miriam and nodded. They sat up, and Miriam spoke, "Mike that was great. Those lessons were worth every penny, but Jo and I need a little private time right now." Mike nodded, and made for the bathroom where he took a hot shower, turning it to cold for the last half-minute or so. As he returned to the bedroom, he avoided making eye contact with the girls who had draped their robes around them. He dressed, and held his jacket in his hands as he turned to say goodbye. Both women rose to walk towards him, and he could smell the sourness of the drying sex juices on them as they stood before him with their robes unbelted and hanging open.

"Thank you, Mike." said Miriam. "And thank you for being understanding about leaving us alone. We're sort of a couple, but we're both a bit more bi than totally lesbian. Maybe we haven't come to terms with our sexuality yet, but we're working it out."

"Thank you, ladies. I enjoyed it too." Said Mike with a smile.

Miriam smiled back, "Those lessons of yours were worth the money. I know a couple of women who could use your services whilst they're out in the Hamptons all week and their husbands are in the city. I'll make a couple of calls, if you like."

Mike smiled back. "I always endeavor to give satisfaction, Miss Miriam." and he made for the door. As he went to open it, he heard Miriam call him.

"Mike! Just remember – when you write your memoirs, don't use our real names, will you?"

He closed the door behind him, rode the elevator to the lobby, and rode a cab to the East Village to see what else the evening had in store for him. 



Summer in the Hamptons Ch. 07



As Mike rode his cab downtown, he directed the cab driver to a small bar that he knew in the West Village, a block or two from the West Side Highway and he walked in. There was a seat available at the bar, so Mike sat down and waited for the bartender, George, to notice him. As he finished serving a man at the end of the bar, George turned, spotted Mike and walked towards him.

"Hey, Mike! Long time no see. How're you doing? What's your pleasure tonight?"

Mike smiled, "I'm in need of a stiff one."

A voice to his right said, "You and me both, Honey."

Mike turned to look and saw an elfin face framed by a blonde pageboy hairstyle. The face wore a half smile and one eyebrow was raised slightly as she looked up at him.

"Well, actually, I meant I need a stiff drink."

"That would do to be going in with, Honey."

Mike turned back to the bar. "I'll have a vodka martini, very dry and dirty, straight up with olives. This young lady looks as if she needs a refill."

George looked at the girl, who nodded and he said, "OK – one vodka martini, one passion fruit daiquiri coming up." As George turned to mix the drinks, Mike turned to look at his new friend. She was still giving him a half smile and he allowed his eyes to wander over her as he introduced himself. He saw that she was wearing a loose fitting black jacket that concealed her figure and that her legs were hidden by an equally loose fitting pair of pants.

The drinks arrived and Mike raised his to the girl. She raised hers to him and they each took a sip. She told Mike that her name was Lucy and that she worked in an investment bank in the Financial District. She had been there for about two years and it was her first job after getting her MBA from Yale.

Mike asked her how she liked it and her face darkened. "The job's fine," she said. "It's the arseholes that I have to work with that's the problem." 

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the men are all such dorks. And they patronize me because I'm a woman. Take tonight as an example." Mike said nothing, but raised an eyebrow and looked interested. "We had a huge meeting today with some really major clients from out of town. I did nearly all the work, all the research and setting up the PowerPoint presentation and I was all set to make the presentation when my dumbass boss comes in to take over. He had me organize the damned coffee and cookies. Lucky I was there when he finished, 'cos he couldn't answer their questions. I could, but a couple of the guys kept butting in. It was like I was a fucking nobody. Then, afterwards, when we were all supposed to take these people out for dinner, they told me that I couldn't go, as they were going on to Scores and it would be bad for the bank's image for me to be seen in a lap dancing club."

Lucy took another sip of her drink and stared at Mike. She carried on, "It was the same when the bonuses were paid out. I got less than the guys, because my boss reckoned that they needed more than me 'cos when they dated they had to pay, but when I get taken out on dates it's free for me. Like I don't have to pay as much rent as they do, or spend so much on clothes. It's not even like I get asked out for dates!" She gulped at her drink and then stared at Mike in horror. She put down her glass, put a hand on his and said, "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I don't even know you and here I am complaining about my life to you."

Mike thought about patting her hand, but remembered Lucy's complaint about being patronized and didn't. Instead, he just looked her in the eyes and said, "That's OK. If it's bothering you that much, then it's a good thing to get it out of your system and it's often easier to talk to a stranger. I'm a good listener and I have no other plans for the evening, so you carry on."

Lucy's face relaxed a little. "You wouldn't understand." she said. 

Mike did now take her hand in his. "Try me. I know hard it is for women in your business. There was something in the paper the other day about a group of women suing the bank where they work for billions because they had to put up with the sort of crap that you're getting. I hope they win, then it should get better for the rest of you."

Lucy looked up at him with a skeptical expression on her face, "Do you really believe that?"

Mike smiled, "Of course I do. You're the one with the MBA – you tell me where it's written down that the financial world is fuelled by testosterone?"

Lucy's face hardened. "It may not be written down, but it's engrained in the fucking culture."

Over three or four more drinks, Mike listened sympathetically as Lucy bemoaned the lot of women in the financial world, her own lot in particular. After a while, she stopped complaining about work and moved on to her social life – or lack of it. It seemed that she hadn't dated for the whole time she had been in New York. None of the men with whom she worked were interested in her. When the time had come to arrange the house share in the Hamptons for the summer, she had been left out. She had managed to find a place with a couple of old college girl friends, which was actually quite pleasant as it was in an unfashionable area and she didn't have to spend time with her colleagues who just wanted to get drunk all weekend and have prostitutes visit.

When she began to lament her loss of a social life, the look of anger on her face was replaced by one of sadness. She had enjoyed dating at college and missed it. Mike looked at her and commented, "I can see why the men don't want to date you."

Lucy glared at him, "Oh, you can, can you? You want to explain it to me?"

Mike smiled, "They're scared of you." He held up his hand to quiet her as he continued, "You're young, you're very attractive but you have a brain. Probably a better brain than most of them. They're young, too and they want to go out with women that they can boast to and try to impress with their platinum credit cards and Dolce & Gabanna suits. They know that you won't be fooled by that for a minute."

"So what do I do?" 

"Look elsewhere. There are any number of dating agencies, both on line and off. And if that doesn't work . . . . . "

"What?"

Mike grinned, "You can always go out and pick up a stranger in a bar!"

Lucy smiled and ordered another round of drinks. She got down from her seat and headed for the rest room. When she got back, she was a little unsteady on her feet and it took her a couple of goes to get back onto her stool. She toyed with her drink, then turned to Mike. "I don't think I should have any more. You've been an angel, listening to me going on. Would you do me another favor?"

Mike replied, "If I can."

"Would you walk me home? I've had more than I should and I want to sober up a bit."

"Is that all? Of course." Said Mike indicating to George that they wanted their checks. As their credit cards were being processed, Lucy reached into her tote bag and pulled out a pair of sneakers. She kicked off her Jimmy Choos, which were not made for walking more that half a block in comfort and struggled to try and maneuver her foot into a sneaker. It was obvious that she was not going to achieve this without falling off the stool, so Mike took the shoe from her, knelt down, placed it on her foot and laced it. Without a word, he reached up for the other sneaker and did the same. He picked up the lethally heeled shoes and handed them to Lucy to put in her bag. When they had signed their bills, leaving George a generous tip, Mike helped Lucy down from her seat and they went towards the door.

As they left the bar, Mike asked where she lived. She gave an address that was some 15 blocks uptown and they made for the Hudson River to stroll up the Greenway. Lucy tucked her hand in the crook of Mike's arm as they walked and they began chatting about politics, the news, anything, in fact, but Lucy's work and life, which it seemed she thought she had already covered in ample detail. As they approached her street, Lucy turned towards the river and looked across at the lights on New Jersey. Mike leaned on the guardrail beside her and gazed at the river. A few ferries could be seen, a tug pushing a barge and a party boat, brightly lit, went by the thump of the bass notes from the onboard disco clearly audible across a quarter of a mile of water. Lucy suddenly turned towards him, stood on tiptoe, put her arms around Mike's neck and kissed him on the lips.

"Thank you." she said. "I feel a lot better now. You're a good listener."

Mike shrugged his shoulders. "Happy to help. Now, where do you live? Let's get you home, if you've sobered up enough!"

Lucy gave a light laugh and took his hand as they crossed the highway and went into a street between two old buildings that looked as though they had once been warehouses. Lucy stopped at the first doorway and fumbled for her keys. "Will you come in for coffee, or something?" she asked. Mike nodded and they entered through the double set of doors, walked past the mailboxes and made for the elevator.

"Don't you want your mail?" he asked. Lucy stopped, said, "Thanks" and retrieved several glossy catalogues and a couple of envelopes from the box labeled 4B. She looked through it, muttered, "All crap, as usual." and dumped it all into a large garbage can thoughtfully placed nearby and which was almost full of catalogues. They made for the elevator and Mike pressed the button for the fourth floor. Lucy smiled at him, "Smart boy – you saw which mailbox I opened."

At the fourth floor, they turned left and walked down a short passageway to the door labeled "B" and Lucy let them in. As she turned on the light, Mike saw a comfortable, but compact, loft apartment. On the left of the door was a closet and doorways leading to a tiny kitchen and slightly larger bathroom before the room opened out to a living area, containing a desk holding a computer, a comfortable leather sofa and a large coffee table. The far wall was dominated by a big window looking out over the river and on the right hand wall was a large, flat screen TV. Turning, he saw wooden steps leading to the space above the kitchen and bathroom, which he assumed held a bed. Lucy retreated to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of wine, a corkscrew and some glasses.

"Would you open this while I go to the bathroom?"

Mike opened the wine – a very respectable Bordeaux, he noticed – and sat on the sofa. When Lucy returned, she put her jacket over the back of the chair by the computer desk. Mike glanced at her as he poured the wine and saw that she had a very slim figure now covered by a silk blouse. Lucy sat down on the sofa, tucked her legs under her and turned to face him. Mike took off his own jacket and threw it over the arm of the sofa. He raised his glass, "What shall we drink to?"

Lucy thought for a moment and raised her own. "To ships that pass in the night." They clinked glasses and sipped the wine. They both began to speak at once, stopped, smiled and waited for the other to begin. "What were you going to say?" asked Lucy.

"I was about to compliment you on this wine," said Mike, "It really is very good."

"I know," smiled Lucy, "When I was at college, I spent every summer on a vineyard in France. I like wine and wanted to learn more. This is a bottle from that vineyard and I don't waste them on just anybody. You've been very kind to me this evening."

Mike shrugged deprecatingly and sipped the wine. "Those men you work with have no idea what they're missing. Beauty, brains and a knowledge of fine wines. They don't deserve a date with you, even if they had the sense to ask for one."

Lucy giggled, "You're right. All they want is bimbos. Because I have it in my skull and not on my chest, they aren't interested. Sometimes, though, it might be nice to be appreciated as a woman." A wistful look returned to her face.

Mike put down his glass and leaned forward. He kissed the end of Lucy's nose and sat back up. "If it helps, I think you're a fantastic woman. The combination of great looks and intelligence is something that I find a real turn on."

Lucy looked back at him. "You're getting turned on by me?"

Mike was surprised to find that, despite his time with Joanne and Miriam earlier, he was starting to feel a twinge in his groin. "Absolutely!" he said. Lucy put her own glass down and leaned forward in turn to kiss Mike's mouth. They shuffled their bodies close to each other and embraced, a little clumsily until they got their arms sorted out and kissed. At first, their pecks at each other's lips were ill coordinated, but as they got used to each other, they became longer until, after a short while, their mouths began to open. As their tongues started to take turns in exploring each other's dental work their hands began to roam over each other's backs. 

It didn't take Mike long to discover that Lucy wasn't wearing a bra and he began to run his finger tips lightly up and down her spine. She returned the favor and both found themselves breathing more heavily. They broke apart, briefly and Lucy pushed her legs from under her and sat more squarely on the sofa. Mike leaned across her, they resumed kissing and Mike found that the change in position had brought his right hand from Lucy's back to her side. He lowly moved it nearer to her front and was rewarded by her tongue dancing more rapidly against his own. Her left hand had moved from his back to his stomach and as his right hand began to stray upward, hers moved down. As his hand cupped her small, firm breast with its surprisingly large, taut, nipple he felt her hand graze his slowly engorging penis. As he reached for the buttons on her blouse, she let go of his penis and pulled her mouth from his. 

"No" she panted, "Not here. We're both too old to make out on the sofa like a couple of kids." With that, she grabbed her wine glass and made for the steps leading up to her bed. Mike grabbed his own glass and the bottle and followed her. At the top of the steps was a small, carpeted area with a rail to the right, a nightstand at the end and a queen size bed on his left. They placed the wine on the nightstand and embraced again, kissing furiously as their hands roamed freely over each other's upper bodies. Mike unbuttoned Lucy's blouse as she undid his shirt, then, realizing it would be quicker, they began to remove their own outer clothing. Lucy was ahead of Mike, as cotton slacks are easier to remove than leather pants, but before long they were both lying on the bed, he in his boxers and she in a pair of sheer, black silk panties.

They rolled together and as they kissed, Lucy rolled on top of Mike. His hands resumed their caressing of her back, his fingers playing her protruding vertebrae like a harp. As his hands moved to her waist, he edged his thumbs beneath the elastic of her panties and began to ease them down. Lucy eagerly helped, raising her hips and used one hand to help to push them down. Rolling to one side, she pulled off her last garment and reached for the elastic at Mike's waist. Eagerly, he raised his buttocks and allowed Lucy to remove his underpants. He turned on his side to face Lucy and once more allowed his hands to roam. He caressed, no, he groped her breasts and lowered his lips to them. He heard her moan as he put his lips to her nipples, one at a time and suckled like a baby.

His hand moved down her belly, through the coarse blonde hair on her pubic mound, until it met the slickness of her outer lips and the pulsating bulge of her clitoris. He dipped the tip of his finger in her slippery opening to moisten it and began to gently tease her clitoris. His fingertips danced a small gavotte on her most sensitive parts, tripping daintily into the hot, wet softness of her vagina and back to her clitoris establishing a gentle rhythm. Lucy whimpered and said, "Oh, God! It's been so fucking long!" Mike continued gently to tease her, until she said, "Fuck that - I can do that for myself. What I need, is, this!"

With that, she flipped Mike onto his back, flung her leg over him and knelt astride him. With a wild look on her face she grabbed his penis, aimed it and quickly impaled herself on him. Mike watched himself slide into her unresisting vulva; she was so wet that he could hardly feel her, just a hot wetness. Lucy settled herself and said, "Shit! That feels so fucking good! I think I'd come if you even moved a tiny bit." Mike reached up to gently pinch her swollen nipples and gave a twitch of his pelvis. True to her word, Lucy convulsed as a small orgasm raced through her body and Mike felt a wet sensation on his scrotum as her fluids leaked from her. She allowed her upper body to collapse on top of Mike and he continued to thrust gently up into her and stroke her back and buttocks gently as she quivered. Slowly, she stopped moving and gently maneuvered her legs so that they were straight on either side of his. 

Mike continued stroking her back and gently undulating his hips, as Lucy lay atop him. Slowly, she began to respond to his movements, raising and lowering her own hips to meet his movements. Gradually, their pace increased and Lucy raised herself on her arms to look down at Mike as she began to set the ever increasing pace. Mike reached up to squeeze her breasts as she began to move even faster, adopting a rotating movement to rub her clitoris against the base of his penis. Again, she was so wet that Mike found little difficulty in holding back his own orgasm, as there was so little discernable movement on his glans, but he found it very arousing to watch the expression on Lucy's face as she rode him. Her movements became erratic and then she let out a squeal as she went rigid.

Her eyes closed and a red flush spread over her upper chest. She shook violently several times before, once again, collapsing flat on top of Mike, who held her close as she shuddered through a second orgasm and more fluid poured down Mike's scrotum to soak into the bedding beneath. Slowly, her breathing slowed and Mike realized that Lucy had gone to sleep. As he held her close, to avoid disturbing her, he felt his erection start to fade and he felt his soft penis slip from her sopping vagina and begin to grow cold as it dried.

After a few minutes, Lucy stirred, rolled of Mike and lay on her back with a smile on her face. Mike reached to the nightstand and passed over her glass of wine before reaching for his own. She raised herself onto one elbow and turned to face him as she sipped. "Holy crap, Mike, that was amazing. I've never come twice so quickly. What did you do to me?"

Mike smiled at her, "I just lay there and let you get on with it. I think I just needed to be here and bring a cock with me - that was all." Lucy snuggled up to him, "No," she said, "It has to be more than that. I don't usually even kiss on a first date and I've never had orgasms with a guy until at least the fourth or fifth fuck."

"Maybe it's my stunning body and amazing personality?"

"Whatever it is, it's working." She sipped her wine. "Can you stay? I don't think I've finished with you, yet and you didn't come, yet, did you?"

"Yes I can and that's OK."

"Great!" said Lucy, "C'mon, we're all sweaty and slimy. Let's take a shower and cuddle up under the covers."

They got up and went down to Lucy's tiny bathroom where they squeezed into the shower. Lucy got the temperature just right and they luxuriated in the hot stream. She passed Mike the body wash and turned her back. Mike began to wash her back and when she turned round, he began with her shoulders, moved on to her breasts and then down to the thick blond bush. As he began to wash her vagina, she stopped him.

"I'm sorry, honey, I'm a bit tender there. Do you mind?"

"Of course not – why should I mind? It was me that made it that way!"

Lucy laughed and took the body wash from him. She began to wash his chest and then rubbed her soapy hands down his stomach to take hold of his growing penis. She gently stroked and caressed it until it was fully erect and then waited for the soap to wash away before pushing Mike back out of the water stream. "Your turn, honey." She said, as she knelt down, gently peeled back his foreskin and took him in her mouth.