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