Amanda - Cover

Amanda

Copyright© 2006 by Horatio

Chapter 2

Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Amanda dreams of a long dead man and falls in love. Across the abyss of time the couple meet.

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

Arnold had just left Arkworth Hall after his two very well-fed, if hard-working, days as Amanda's guest. He had returned home and to his work in London which was starting to pile up alarmingly. Several people had applied for the vacant posts in the Hall and Benson was interviewing one of them in the servant's quarters. Amanda had spent the morning walking around the grounds. She had finished her tour of inspection by having a swim in the natural pool where her infant love of water had caused her mother to complain humorously that she had given birth to a fish and not a little girl at all!

She was a very much more than somewhat chilled young lady after her long and very energetic swim. It might be mid- June, but the temperature did not even begin to compare to that in the sub tropical island she had so recently left. A hot shower was very definitely indicated in order to restore some much needed body heat! A terrible thing to die from hypothermia so soon after inheriting all this!

She walked quickly and shivering, a towel draped around her nudity, into the Hall and up to the bathroom - a very modern suite in this very old house. The hot water felt so very, very good as it coursed down her statuesque and perfectly toned and tanned form. After drying herself, she walked out of the shower and into the corridor.

She was still naked but very much warmer now and quite comfortable. The sun had shone through the bathroom window onto her body, its beams dancing with subtle brilliance off her skin's smooth lustre with its delicately fine covering of tiny red-gold hairs, each one a minute and coruscating jewel, gleaming in the summer light. She had seen herself in the mirror and the sin of Vanity had immediately seized her in its grip! She looked good! Oh, my word, but DID she EVER look good!

If the obsessed and traumatised Deirdre's obsession with her own body had taught Amanda anything, it was that the human form, especially in youth, in its unclothed state is not a shameful thing - anything but! Those hours lying on the private beach and swimming naked in the sea, alone at first, but with, after time, an increasing selection of companions of both sexes who would drop by to chat, had removed all shame at her nudity, and replaced it at first with pride and finally with a serene and grateful acceptance.

It was wonderful to have learnt how to stand and walk in an unclothed state. Without any of the constraints imposed by apparel, she had become accustomed to hold and bear herself naturally and without self consciousness. And she was blessed with breasts which were firm, well-shaped and very feminine, but not too big - not big enough to strike her a cruel slap under the chin if she broke into a run, which was very likely what would happen - say - to some of the silicone-enhanced bimbos from Baywatch when dashing hell for leather to some distressed swimmer's aid!

She would often reflect, now that she had "seen the light", that a girl like her was born to be always naked. Fat chance of that, though! She had a position in society to keep up and Benson would have a fit if he saw her the way she nowadays liked to be!

Taking advantage of the emptiness of the house, now that Arnold had gone and Benson was engaged all day in interviewing applicants, she started to wander in and out of various rooms, feeling the cool linoleum under her feet in the corridor and being caressed by the pile of the carpets in the various rooms. Her idle wandering finally brought her to a flight of stairs leading up to a landing. At the top was a room she had never been in, even when she had lived here in her happy childhood days.

She tried to open the door, but it was obviously locked. Annoyed at being denied entry and determined to see what was was inside, she went downstairs and looked closely at the key rack which was situated in the rear of the hallway. There was one very large and antiquated key which appeared to be for the room in question! She took it down and went back upstairs.


She did not realise it, but Benson and the latest applicant had just walked up the stairs from the cellar, where he had been showing the successful lady around the scene of her future duties. As Amanda went upstairs to the locked room, they both saw her. She was right about Benson's reaction! The poor guy pretty nearly did throw a fit when he caught sight of her rear view as she lightly skipped up the stairway on those perfectly formed little feet of hers!

Arriving slightly panting and sweating at the door, she inserted the key in the lock. No joy! It seemed to fit OK, but would only turn a short way before all her efforts to encourage it to go further were utterly vain. Deirdre, of course, would have had no trouble! Deciding that the lock might benefit from the application of some lubricant she went back downstairs and outside. In the garage cum workshop was what she was looking for - a small can of oil, of sufficiently fine grade to do the job. She had developed some practical skills in the course of her short life, even if she did choose never to let people know she was not quite as totally helpless as she sometimes seemed!

As she went in the front door, oblivious by now to her continuing nakedness, Benson came out of one of the rooms. He displayed no surprise. If this was how the mistress wished to behave in her own house, then so be it!

Amanda blushed and apologised, lifting the oilcan to cover her breasts before realising the absurdity and futility of this attempt to camouflage herself. She put her arms back where they belonged. Benson coughed.

"No need to apologise Miss Amanda, this is your house, after all."

"Yes, but it's your home too Benson and I've no right to upset you. It won't happen again!"

A brief conversation ensued in the course of which Benson convinced his employer that he really did not mind how she dressed or undressed. She accepted with relief that her freedom was to continue! She asked him if he had a first name.

"Oswald, Miss Amanda"

"OK, Oswald. Mind if I call you that in future?"

He did not mind. Amanda, pleased that a degree of informality was being established between them, went upstairs to see if she could loosen the workings of the ancient lock. The not unskilled application of oil was successful and Amanda pushed open the creaking door, expecting to see a room knee deep in dust and cobwebs. The door shut behind her with surprising smoothness and she looked about her. What she saw amazed her!

She blinked a few times, but the room looked no different each time she opened her eyes.

The chamber was spotlessly clean and beautifully furnished with what even the untutored eye of the new mistress could see were the most priceless pieces of antique Jacobean furniture, all in amazing condition and lovingly polished. By the window was a very comfortable-looking couch, which did look slightly out of keeping with the rest of the furnishings in its simplicity. She walked over to it and looked out of the window. Then she had yet another shock!

She simply could not recognise the view at all. The gardens, landscaped by Capability Brown in the eighteenth century, were unrecognisable - a geometric and formal vista which was like no garden she had ever seen, save one. And the distant view was similarly transformed. The general configuration of the land was familiar enough, but there seemed far more of an abundance of woodland than she remembered and in the far distance, the large modern town of Breadstoke was gone, being replaced by a small collection of thatched dwellings grouped around a village green.

"How odd! And I haven't had a drop of gin yet!" she muttered, the feeble joke failing to remove the feeling of sheer terror she was experiencing. She sat upon the couch, feeling giddy and faint. Perhaps she'd better go back to her room and lie down until she felt better, she told herself. The distraught Amanda was about to put this resolution into effect when the door opened and a boisterous spaniel bounded in, coming up to her and licking her bronzed thigh in a friendly way, leaving a shiny wet mark where its tongue had been. She patted the animal delightedly and let it lick her all over - she had fallen instantly in love with this creature! Where had it come from? Then the dog's presumed owner came in and she knew who HE was right away! And he knew her!


"Darling Amanda! Congrats on coming into your lovely inheritance! What a splendid house you've got here and all these lovely grounds. Lovely to see you again - lovely!!"

"Dearest Deirdre! I see you've brought some heavy gear, as if those muscles aren't grossly overdeveloped enough already! And where did you get that awful black eye? You can and will carry all that heavy stuff in by yourselves! My dear old Oswald is much to feeble to manage all that heavy metal! Me too!"

"Don't worry about that, poor feeble Amanda! We love the exercise - the more the merrier. I'll tell you about my shiner later. You'll not be pleased!"

The two former flat mates embraced for a very long time and the watching Peter was getting to be not a little jealous until Amanda remembered her duties as hostess and went over and kissed him perfunctorily on the cheek, completely forgetting that she had once so devotedly worshipped him! Amnesia can be such a blessing sometimes!

She allowed them to bring all their luggage into the house, marvelling how they lifted up their heavy packages as if they were so many bits of balsa wood. Then she showed them both up to their shared room.

Although they were still technically single, these two besotted people were already behaving as if they were an old married couple, much to Amanda's puritanical disgust. She, herself, was resolutely and inflexibly determined that she would remain a virgin until her wedding night, although no longer, of course! Her future husband could either be patient and wait until the proper time or else find someone else to marry - she would not behave like a tart to please anybody! People told her she was old fashioned and she was very happy to agree - and a good job too, she would add!

As soon as her guests had settled themselves in to their room, they came down and joined Amanda in the lounge. She indicated that this was now a clothing optional house, thanks to the tolerance of the good Mr. Benson and all three disrobed accordingly. Then Amanda looked at the very well endowed Peter and felt a frisson of doubt. What would the new parlour-maid make of that! Whatever - she was not going to find out! The resentful Peter was ordered to cover up and the two nude girls settled back into their chairs and exchanged all the latest gossip. Being women it took them most of the evening - and then some! They were still not even half way finished when the time came to retire for the night!

After saying goodnight, Amanda stayed behind and took advantage of the temporary solitude to go over again the events of that incredible day. The summer's day when she had first gone into that locked room.

The man who followed the spaniel into the room was none other than he who had swum ashore to her and handed her the beautiful shell - Lord Arkworth, dead these three hundred years! They had stared in amazement for many long seconds until the man spoke.

"Odds fish! 'tis the wondrous lady - the fair vision on the shore! The fairest creature that mine eyes did ever see! She to whom I gave the shell! What heavenly alchemy brings thee here? I see Harry likes thee well! Thou art flesh and blood indeed - and I heartily rejoice to see it! But by what devilry or witchcraft came ye here?"

"I own this house. I wished to look inside this room, which was locked and which I have never entered before." she replied in a very weak voice. She could scarcely stand and put her hand behind her onto the bench to steady herself. "You really did swim ashore from your ship and give me that lovely shell? It was not a dream?"

"'Twas I who dreamt, methought. I sailed my vessel by that self same shore a dozen times and never saw thee more. Word came of my father's death and so back I came to this fair spot. 'Tis indeed a blessed place, this manor - what say ye my lovely girl. Ye are not from these parts - that is plain. Thy speech is odd and more than passing strange! "

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