Chapter 1

Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Romantic, Fiction, Time Travel,

Desc: Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Amanda dreams of a long dead man and falls in love. Across the abyss of time the couple meet.

Amanda Hurst-Fanshawe looked up from her book. She stared goggle eyed and with a renewed mixture of fascination and horror at her friend Deirdre Harris. Deirdre was still the most beautiful girl that Amanda had ever known but the prize idiot was busily trying to destroy her feminine allure in the most frenzied and systematic way! Amanda sighed sadly and returned to her book.

Deirdre, meanwhile, kept fanatically on with what had been her daily routine for some months now. At the time the story begins, she was doing a series of exercises on a chin bar, raising her body up by the strength of her already brawny arms and s-l-o-o-o-w-l-y lowering herself, the sweat trickling in shiny rivulets off her naked body as she did so. She was already on the one hundred and fiftieth of this particular torturing exercise and a half admiring and half worried Amanda knew that this evening's self inflicted ordeal for her friend had only just begun. After the present voluntary torture was finished, all of Deirdre's other muscle systems would receive equally fearful and systematic character building abuse. Madness! Sheer madness, thought Amanda for the thousandth time.

Amanda herself was a slim girl - not frail, but slim. Deirdre, her flatmate, had once had a delightfully willowy figure before she had embarked upon her current obsession with body building and her allied and secondary interest in self defence. Now she was awe-inspiring - a veritable latter day Amazon! What man would look at her now, other than a total nut and weirdo, thought a despairing Amanda! Amazing what six months can do to a previously graceful girl!

Amanda had shared a luxury flat in Mayfair with this delightful but increasingly obsessed companion for almost a year now. Her Guardians had thought the two of them would be good for each other. At first they had got along famously and then Deirdre had been mugged and very violently so.

Amanda would never forget the night that Deirdre had staggered back into the flat, her face cut and bleeding and her clothes half ripped off. The robbery had happened at the end of the street and her distressed friend had scarcely been able to half walk and half crawl the few yards back to their shared and previously happy home.

A call to the police had elicited the usual half-baked and useless response. The attackers had never been caught. Deirdre had been offered "counselling." Her unladylike, robust and obscene response to this offer had sent the WPC who had made it off into the night, her cheeks burning red with embarrassment. After this, a venomously angry Deirdre had vowed, "Never fucking again, my sweet friend!" And so had begun her dedicated transformation into what she vowed would be a "woman men won't ever fucking piss around with ever again - not if they know what's fucking well good for them!"

Amanda was of a more philosophical bent. And, in any case, she valued her diminutive, elusive charm and the devastation it could cause among the strongest of men. Poor Deirdre had been unlucky bumping into those thugs, but such occurrences were very rare - lighting never strikes twice, and all that! No need for Amanda to become some kind of female version of Mr Universe - or Deirdre, for that matter!

Amanda did love Deirdre, though! The girl had introduced her to Life!

After her parents had been killed in a plane crash she had been brought up by the good people appointed as executors to her parents' Will. She had spent several years at one of the country's top girls' schools and then left at the age of seventeen, storming out, angrily determined not to tread the academic paths that her well meaning Guardians had prepared for her. She was going to Live with a very capital "L", when she became of age! No stupid Higher Education for her! Not when she was going to be worth millions in a few years!

And so the perplexed and well - meaning Guardians had fixed her up with Deirdre and the pair had quickly fallen into a very pleasant routine of tennis, swimming and parties. Until, that is to say, Deirdre had met with her defining moment and commenced her self-transformation into a Woman of Iron. After that, Amanda was counting the days until her eighteenth birthday and the time she would at last come into her inheritance!

She gave another glance at her straining, sweating friend and let out another sigh. There was a buzz from the entry phone. A visitor!

"Go and see who it is Amanda! I'm too busy" said Deirdre.

"Yeah! Busy turning yourself into a freak!" thought Amanda. She said this silently. Her friend was a lot more aggressive, lately, what with all this pumped up brawn! A sore Amanda still had the bruises to prove it, if she cared to strip off (which she definitely did not)!

"Yes" she said into the phone.

"It's Peter"

"Oh! How nice!" She had a very soft spot for Peter! "Come right on up!"

Amanda came back and told Deirdre their friend Peter was coming up to see them.

"Best put something on, Deirdre! He might get ideas!" said a despairing Amanda, knowing full well that her friend had no intention of doing anything of the sort.

Deirdre merely grunted and paused not in her routine. The sweat continued to roll off her and Amanda sniffed the air. My God! She thought. This place stinks like a back-street gym! You could bottle the body odour and sell it to the hippies!

Hoping to cleanse the air of Deirdre's rancid body smell, she opened the window as far as it would go and an icy draught wafted into the room. Amanda shivered but Deirdre merely grunted. "That's better - was getting too hot. Thanks darling!"

Peter Stranger-Adams walked in at this point. He was still dressed in his outdoor clothes and Amanda moved to take his coat. He pretty soon regretted the loss of this warm garment and sat down, wrapping both arms around himself in an obvious attempt to stave off the cold. The flat never was very warm at the best of times, thanks to Deirdre's strenuous routine and increasingly Spartan lifestyle, and the open window on this February night made a cool room into something out of "Scott of the Antarctic."

"Hi, Pete. Good - to see - you. Don't mind - me! Amanda will look- after - you." said Deirdre between grunts as she continued her exercises. As ever, nowadays, she seemed not a whit embarrassed by her nudity and the other two shifted uneasily in their respective arm chairs as they watched her nearing the end of her allotted marathon pull-up session.

She finally finished this part of her routine and went out to a rear room where the rest of her extensive collection of exercise contraptions was situated. A kind of West End torture chamber, Amanda often thought! The gasping continuation of her fanatical transformation from the slender Deirdre of old into a woman of iron could be clearly heard by the other two!

Amanda sighed with relief and closed the window - not a second too soon for either her or Peter!

"Gosh, Amanda, doesn't Deirdre look wonderful nowadays? " enthused an admiring Peter. "You'd never have though it possible six months ago! I wouldn't want to be in the shoes of any guy or guys who tried to mug her another time! She's fantastic!"

Amanda agreed mechanically. Inwardly she could scarcely believe her ears! She went over to the drinks cabinet and poured a couple of gin and tonics, going very easy on the tonic and extremely hard on the gin in her case! How could any man prefer this increasingly muscle bound hunk to a sweetly dainty girl like her? Life was SO unfair sometimes! She sat next to Peter wriggling against him and putting her arm on his shoulder. He seemed infuriatingly unresponsive, but she kept up the pressure nonetheless. Persistence and Patience - these were her watchwords!

Peter was beginning to respond to Amanda's gentle hand on his shoulder and he moved his arm so that it lay affectionately across her slim frame. She quivered deliciously, feeling a wonderful warmth in her virginal loins.

"You surely to Goodness, don't really think Deirdre looks wonderful with all those muscles, Peter, my love? Surely it turns men off, that kind of thing! And it's so utterly shameless the way she lets men look at her naked body the way she does. You're not the only bloke she's shown herself to - don't kid yourself!"

Peter sat up and withdrew his arm, clasping his hands together and hunching his shoulders. Amanda glanced fearfully at his face, her stomach churning painfully at the sight of that lovely lock of fair hair dropping over his forehead. He was so gorgeous and she really loved him! Alas! She saw with awful sadness that Peter really DID like the superwoman Deirdre more than he liked her.

"I'd have said the same as you once" he said after a long silence. "But Deirdre has blossomed somehow since she took herself in hand. I admire her dedication and single-mindedness and I think she looks really beautiful with that fantastically strong body she's built for herself. After all said and done, this is the Twentieth Century, Mandy! Women have come into their own in the last thirty years, and I applaud that. Why should Deirdre not be proud of what she's done with her body and want it to be there for people to see?"

"My name's Amanda!" snapped our near tearful heroine. "Don't you ever dare abbreviate it again. I HATE it when people do that!"

The couple sat in embarrassed silence for a while. Then Peter recollected why he had come and said a few words to Amanda. He kissed her briefly on the mouth, causing her heart to flutter madly, and left, asking her to give his regards to Deirdre, who was still sweating and exercising all too audibly in the back room.

It was getting rather late by this time and Amanda was feeling tired and not a little sad. She was not yet eighteen and Peter was her first real passion. He was twenty three and her rival and flatmate Deirdre two years his junior. She felt she was being treated like a baby sometimes! It hurt a lot.

She went over and looked into the other room. There was her mad buddy, still exercising. Her thighs were being mercilessly pushed to their limits by this time. Amanda looked away in horror at her friend's abundant and sweat damped pubic hair and at the sight of the pink womanhood peeping out from underneath its bushy cover. How gross!

Going into her own bedroom, she was soon undressed and in bed reading Ibsen's Ghosts. Her attention pretty soon wandered from the text and she began to drift into sleep. Just as she was finally going off for the night, the door opened. It was Deirdre, still naked, and looking distressed again.

Thank heaven the girl had showered!

"Can I slide in next to you, Amanda? Pleeease? I'm feeling pretty awful at the moment, darling. I tried to sleep but I saw those awful men as if it were happening all over again. Please let me stay with you - just for a while at least!"

Amanda happily moved over to allow Deirdre to get into bed next to her. She ran her hand affectionately through that cropped spiky hair, leant across and kissed the upset girl on the forehead.

For weeks after the attack, Amanda had thus comforted her distressed and shaken companion. Night after night she had allowed a weeping Deirdre to share her bed, clasping her tightly and with loving patience while the poor girl cried herself to sleep. By day the her friend was dedicated to building her body, but after dark the mental scars were all too sadly evident. Nights like this were getting, mercifully, much less frequent, however, and this was the first in a month.

"I'm so awfully sorry I hit you the other day, sweetheart. How are the bruises coming on?" asked Deirdre, thankfully relieved not to be on her own any longer.

Amanda pushed back the bedclothes and let her friend see her ribcage - still not a pretty sight.

"Oh, Amanda dearest, I'm so terribly sorry!" sobbed a penitent Deirdre.

"Forget it! What are friends for? And I was very rude, if I recall correctly - calling you a female Sylvester Stallone!"

"Yes. Comparing me to him!"

Deirdre sniffed and then smiled through her tears. " Now, if you'd called me a female Arnie - that would have been fine!"

The couple giggled together, recapturing some of the easy camaraderie of their early months together. Then Amanda remembered something and sat bolt upright.

"Golly! I almost forgot to tell you why Peter came around! He's got the use of a mate's villa in Tenerife for a fortnight. We can all go off in a couple of days, if you like! He needs to know in the morning as soon as poss. There's a gym there, so you should be happy! And a private beach so you can sun that hunky body in the nude if you can spare the time away from all that exercise equipment. I really think we ought to go. Do us both a power of good! And another thing, Deirdre..."

Deirdre agreed that they should accept. The couple fell asleep without saying any more. Amanda did not withdraw her arm from around her friend. It was past seven when they woke up.

"What other thing?" was Deirdre's first question as they rubbed the sleep out of their eyes.

"Oh. Peter really digs you! I think it's the real thing, Deirdre! He obviously has a thing about strong women and the sun shines out of your arsehole as far as he's concerned! I hope you return his undying passion! I could just about stand losing him to you - but not to anyone else!"

Deirdre did not respond but Amanda guessed her friend was not by any means displeased at what she had heard. Amanda continued to lie in bed after Deirdre had gone back to her own room. She shed a few tears over Peter. It had cost her an awful lot to say what she had to that girl, but she was rather glad she had. And!!!

It was a lovely sunny day, with more than the slightest hint of Spring about it and Amanda was a healthy seventeen, getting on for eighteen year-old girl who had her whole life ahead of her. The loss of Peter just might not be quite the end of the world!

She got up and readied herself for the day. The first hectic hours were spent phoning for the tickets, getting out her summer gear and then going off to swim and play tennis - not any more with the iron-pumping Deirdre, alas, but with a good set of girls and guys, even so.

One of the other fellows brought a friend along to the pool with him called Gervaise. Gervaise was really lovely and obviously very taken with Amanda, asking her out before leaving, although not before the pair had swum twenty lengths together and laughingly tried to drown each other a few times. Life wasn't THAT bad, after all!

Amanda stretched out her tanned and naked body in the hot summer sun, squirming in a paroxysm of idly abandoned ecstasy. Her sweet and nut brown hand reached out lovingly to the glass of ice cold and very intoxicating liquid at her side. She drank long and deeply. Bliss!! Perfect BLISS!!!

What had started as a fortnight in Tenerife had turned into several long and wonderfully lazy, sybaritic months. Peter had received a telegram after their first few days in this island of delights, telling him that his services were no longer required by the venerable City institution that had been his employer. Amanda would never forget the look of delighted relief on his face! His generous redundancy cheque would see him through at least a couple of years with care!

The kind friend who had let Peter have the villa had generously allowed the trio to stay there just as long as they pleased. And so the situation that had begun in February continued to develop in the tropical heat.

Peter and Deirdre were now so utterly infatuated with each other that Amanda no longer recognised either of them as being bona fide members of the human race! Peter was working hard to bring his own body up to the same standard of muscularity as Deirdre's and Amanda was left to her own devices, swimming long and hard and playing at the local tennis club with an ever greater array of English expatriates.

"To think that I was almost in danger of getting as soppy as those two!" Amanda was wont to reflect during her odd few moments of leisure and sobriety!

In the first few weeks of their stay here, Amanda had refused to shed her modest one-piece swimsuit. As she had become ever more accustomed to the sight (Site, for such readers as prefer this inaccurate and frequently encountered spelling) of her two companions shedding all their clothes (and inhibitions!) she had begun to feel the discomfort of her clothed state.


One day, both of the other two were indoors, sweating away on their pathetic exercise machines and Amanda felt uncomfortably hot. The temperature was up in the high eighties on this unseasonably hot day. They did have a private beach, she told herself and she was really very uncomfortable... So - off came the one-piece, never to be put on again!

On this particular day in late May, Amanda was thinking about her forthcoming birthday and her much longed for coming of age. She was finally due to take possession of the family home after the last of a series of tenants had vacated it. No more boring guardians and trustees and such wretched creatures to order her life for her!

Both her companions had been invited to come and help her move in, but they were reluctant to leave the villa and would be along after a couple of weeks. Meanwhile, Amanda was now in the last fortnight of her extended vacation.

She gazed out to sea and saw a two master sailing ship approaching. It dropped anchor a few hundred yards off shore and a tall man ran lightly on his strong bare feet up to the bow and stood looking in her direction. What a man - thought the delighted Amanda! So tall and powerful and such a deep tanned mahogany, except for where his rugged and masculine body was not covered by a black wiry abundance of hair!

The man dived off the bow straight into the water and immediately started swimming powerfully towards the shore and the recumbent Amanda, who rose to her feet and walked down to the water's edge, standing and waiting for the man to reach the water's edge.

With horror, the waiting girl saw several black triangular fins appear. They started to circle around the approaching swimmer, who, if he had seen them, displayed no concern. He kept steadily on his course towards her and she stood, her heart in her mouth, as he came nearer and the fins continued ominously to menace him.

He was still about fifty yards away when he disappeared from view. Amanda stared at the spot where he had last been, and dreaded to see the horrible red stain on the surface that would indicate that one of the sharks had struck!

There was no such stain and the man re appeared after a frighteningly long interval. He was holding something in one hand and this impeded his progress a little for the last few yards.

The man came out of the sea, water dripping from his massive frame. With one hand he wiped his face and with the other he handed something to Amanda. It was a shell - the loveliest she had ever seen. She looked at the rosy pink delicacy and complexity of the object that the man had just dived to the sea bed for. She looked back at him, her eyes alive with gratitude.

He was even more impressive close up than he had been from a distance. Power and sheer male magnetism seemed to flow out from his fine physique and shine from his clear blue eyes. She could see that the handsome face and body had several marks on them - the scars of past injuries, acquired she could only guess how. This was someone who could take good care of himself and would also be able to look after her, and give her life the leadership and direction she craved for from a real man.

He put an arm around her and drew her unresistingly to him, kissing her long and passionately on her opened mouth, their juices intermingling for many long, precious and overwhelmingly intoxicating seconds. It was the first time she had been kissed by a man with such a magnificent beard! And - more than this - she had experienced contact with aroused manhood before, but this time there were no layers of clothing interposed!

Drawing back from her he spoke. "We'll meet again, oh love of my life. Until then - farewell!"

He waded back into the sea and started swimming to the boat. Amanda went back to her beach mat and lay watching him as his arms rhythmically and powerfully drew him further from her with each passing second. The lovely sea shell was still clasped in her hand. A familiar voice sounded in her ears.

"Wake up Amanda, love! Sorry to disturb you but you've got a call."

She woke up and looked up at Deirdre, red and sweaty as ever after more of her interminable exercise and holding the phone for her. She looked out to sea. No ship, of course. Then she looked down at what was in her hand and Deirdre's eyes followed hers.

"Gosh, what a lovely shell, Amanda, you must have swum out quite a way and dived pretty deep to find one as perfect and undamaged as that!"

With these words, her friend went back inside to continue her and Peter's interrupted daily grind.

The eighteen year old - all of two days an adult! - relaxed into her first-class seat and watched the island grow smaller and smaller as the plane climbed steeply up into the blue. She was on her way back to her home - the place where she had spent such a happy childhood, until both her parents had been tragically killed. One particular aspect of that well loved house was causing her furious excitement. It was her favourite picture. The first thing she would do on going into the hall would be to stand and look at it for hours and hours!

This was a painting of the eighth and last Lord Arkworth, owner of Arkworth Hall. Getting on for three hundred years' ago he had returned home to die after a long absence, goodness knew where. His return had been as unexplained and mysterious as had his sudden disappearance many years earlier. The death, without issue, of this man had caused the house and estates to go to a distant cousin, ultimately descending to Amanda.

It was not considered a particularly distinguished work, this painting, but Amanda had been fascinated by it as a child. The handsome Lord had been depicted standing at the water's edge, with a fine ship in the background. No one knew exactly the scene of the painting, but Amanda guessed it was somewhere in the East Indies and painted from memory, or more likely, from imagination. It was, almost certainly, the excitement of being so close to claiming her inheritance that had caused Amanda to dream of the noble Lord swimming ashore to her from that self same ship.

She still had the shell, wrapped up carefully to protect its delicately convoluted fragility from harm. Of course she had swum out to get it! Trouble was - she couldn't for the life of her remember having done so! But! It had been a very hot day and she had been hitting the gin pretty hard!

All these thoughts became tiresome to her and she accordingly retreated from the problem and slept for a while - until, that is, the first drink of the day was handed to her by an very attentive, and even more admiring, male member of the cabin crew.

At Heathrow, where she finally arrived in a pleasantly alcoholic haze, full of that mildly tipsy benevolence which clasps the whole wide world in its cheery embrace, a slightly unsteady Amanda was met by Arnold Pettigrew, her parents' family lawyer and her main Guardian over these last few years. She looked on smilingly, making no effort to assist and looking delightfully helpless, as he organised the loading of her luggage into his shooting brake with the quiet efficiency that had been his hallmark since as far back as Amanda could remember.

She liked Arnold a lot. He had always leant over backwards to mitigate as far as he could the tiresome restrictions placed upon her by the terms of her parents' will. She gave him a kiss, staggering slightly and clutching at him for support as she did so. Arnold went red all over his ascetic lawyer's face. He had always had a soft spot for Amanda - a bewitching little minx, full of all manner of feminine wiles!

"Would you like to go straight to Arkworth, Amanda? Or do you want go into Town for a day or two and get any stuff you might need from the flat?"

"Home! Straight away! I can't wait to see the place again, now that those bloody pleb tenants have finally vamoosed! It's mine now, Arnold my sweet - all mine and I can't wait to set about putting it in order! All I need now is a strong handsome man to look after me and give me loads of sweet little babies - pity you're otherwise engaged!"

Pettigrew smiled to himself as he allowed his former ward to settle into her seat. He began the long drive to Arkworth Hall. The lawyer was glad to be rid of his responsibility in some ways, but he would miss this delightful young lady. Yes! He would miss her a lot, having seen her develop from a pretty child into such a very lovely young woman! He only hoped that she would find the happiness she deserved. A married man himself, he sometimes regretted that his own wife was not more like this captivating little angel with her red-gold hair and green eyes. Modern women seemed to be so increasingly unfeminine, but the sweet little Amanda could never be accused of that! No way!

Arnold accepted Amanda's invitation to stay the night, and soon found himself busy helping her organise her installation into the Hall. One of the servants had continued to work there, even during the time the place had been let out, and this worthy smiled with relief to see Amanda walking up the drive, behind a laden Arnold. He hurried to assist and the new mistress said how comforting it was to have two such strong, handsome men to help her! The weary Arnold felt better as soon as she said this. Amazing what a bit of judicious flattery can do!

Leaving the other two to take her luggage up to her room, the one she had slept in as a child, for the time being, she kept her promise to herself and stood gazing raptly at the long dead Lord Arkworth. What a handsome fellow he was, to be sure, to be sure, to be sure! She tried, in her imagination, to undress this long dead and splendidly attired peer and see him as she had seen him in her dream - bronzed and naked. She so much preferred him like that! What if she could get someone to paint a companion portrait to hang beside it, depicting her handsome collateral ancestor in the altogether! Trouble was - the painter might get it wrong - how would he know what the Lord looked like? And she, of course, did!

Amanda went into the kitchen to see about getting some kind of meal for her and her lawyer/porter/ex-guardian. She would soon find a cook to do all this, of course - as well as a few other servants, but in the meantime she was exceedingly a mistress of the culinary arts and her guest would have no cause to regret agreeing to stay for a day or two - not from an eating point of view!

Seven o'clock in the evening saw the three of them, Amanda, Arnold and Benson, (the sole servant for now), relaxing around the dining table after consuming the splendid meal Amanda had cooked for them all.

"Well, you should have no trouble finding yourself a husband, my dear" said a satisfied Arnold. "I thought my wife Annabelle was a pretty ace cook, but she's got nothing on you!"

"Most delicious, Miss Amanda" said an embarrassed Benson. He felt out of place dining with his mistress and her guest. He was old-fashioned enough to think he "knew his place". Amanda's friendliness and informality was very disconcerting. He asked to be excused, since he had much to do. Amanda smilingly let him go - perfectly understanding why.

"You'll need to remember you are the boss around, here, you know. It's obviously put poor old Benson off his stride, being cooked for by the mistress of the house and asked to sit down with us." said Arnold.

"I know, but today is special." replied Amanda. "Sort of like Christmas when the officers serve the other ranks their dinner. Because it feels like Christmas to be back here in my own home. And if you like to go and sit in front of the television, I'll go and get some coffee. Then I feel like a bit of dusting and general cleaning around my new home - it's knee deep in dust in places!"

After making sure that Arnold was catered for, she went back to the picture and spent more long minutes gazing up at that handsome figure. What a crying shame she had been born three hundred years too late! Or he had been born the same number of years too early! He still seemed to be looking at her with a message of undying devotion, exactly as she recalled from her days as a child when her mother would laughingly reprove her for her fixation with a not terribly good work of art! It was the most special picture in the world for her.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Romantic / Fiction / Time Travel /