Chapter 4

The new maid turned out to be a pretty blonde girl of sixteen called Chrissy; plump, without being fat, and appeared not overly bright without being stupid. She was perfectly capable of doing everything that was necessary, but had no ambition to go on to great things. Her parents were, apparently, delighted that she was to be gainfully employed and looked after. Ideal really.

Everything seemed to settle down over the next day or two, apart from the fact that I was fully involved in estate matters, and hardly had time to look at anything else.

The game side of the estate was run by Emma Worthington Forde, and she needed some decisions made as to the future of the shoot, and permission to spend quite a lot of money. As I have no interest in shooting, this, I thought, would be difficult, but in fact it was really going over a business plan like any other, and making sure that everything added up. Emma had a degree in estate management, or something like that so it was all professionally done. I was in her office one afternoon a few days later, sitting beside her at the computer, and after we had finished off the details, I said:

"Thankyou, Emma, that all seems excellent, I'll OK the expenditure and you can go ahead, and I am sure that you will make a success of it."

Emma was a very solid wench, I don't think there was an ounce of fat on her, but she was broad and muscular. So when she threw her arms around me and kissed me it felt like I was going to stay kissed. And to make sure I did, I put my arms around her and held on to the kiss. When a girl kisses me I like to be as grateful as possible, after all she doesn't have to, does she? Emma and I continued kissing. This I thought could be interesting, and certainly a change. I had managed another early morning with Mrs Johnson, without HL bursting in this time, but all this estate work was interfering, and HL was busy so I was going without my commons, as they say. And Emma was quite enticing in a very different way. She wasn't a pretty girl, handsome would be more accurate, certainly good to look at with regular features and pale blonde hair worn in a pony tail. She did, however, have a captivating smile, revealing beautiful even teeth. Not at the moment of course, because at the moment her smile was wrapped around my chops. I thought I'd test things a little further, you never know, until you are in the saddle your filly can always balk, what? From which you can probably tell that I don't ride. Anyway, I decided to take it to the next level and slid a hand round to feel a tit. For a big wench she had very small tits, but as I got inside her shirt they proved to be very sensitive. Her office, equipment and storeroom, was quite isolated from the rest of the estate and she had a flat over the top. Obviously there would be a bed up there and I was wondering who was going to make the suggestion when she broke away, took my hand and drew me to the stairs. When we got to her bedroom it was all kit off as quickly as possible, no unveiling the shrinking violet, here we had an enthusiastic natural blonde. And in to bed. We were into round one immediately, and she proved that good muscle tone makes for a tight pussy. There was only one slight problem. Whereas other girls squeak, wail or even howl, Emma growled, which developed into a bare toothed snarl as she came.

For round two I went 'down town for lunch' supping merrily at the junction of her thighs. For a big girl, I know I keep saying that, but there ... she had the most amazingly neat and quite small pussy, and licking it was a treat. The second time she came I thought she would crush my ears. When she calmed down she went to work on my todger. It re-erected in seconds and she proved to be able to deep throat, which was something I had never experienced before. We ended up with a nice slow and long lasting screw with both of us finishing in quick succession.

"I feel as though I've spent half the day in this bed," she said.

"Well, I suppose you have since you would have spent the first say, seven hours here from midnight until seven," I leant back against the headboard with my hands behind my head, "and now from three until four, by the way I could kill for a cup of tea, so that makes eight hours and the day is sixteen hours old. So half the day? Yes that would be about right. Don't think there's any problem with that."

Emma was by this time in the kitchen putting the kettle on.

"No, silly," she called. "Your wife was here this morning."

"Oh, and that accounts for extra bed time?"

"Mmm ... she really is very, um, accomplished."

Shit! That woman gets worse.

"Does everyone on this estate swing both ways?"

She walked back in, still naked, with a mug of tea in each hand. She handed me one and got back into bed alongside me. I have to say that sat there cuddling up to her was very pleasant.

She had obviously been thinking.

"No, I don't think so. But we could have a go and see." She giggled.

"Between you and Her Loveliness I suspect we'll find out, and I rather think that any that don't, will when you've finished."

I walked back to the house, decided to have another look at the collection of cars, just to assure myself that I wasn't dreaming really. I had a friend coming over to look at them and see what needed doing to get them going. I didn't know what I was going to do with them, but seeing if they would run would be a good start. By the time I had finished it was pissing with rain so I used the secret passage to get back to the house in the dry. I exited into the library, stupidly not checking first, and was surprised to see HL sat at one of the desks, although her back was towards me and she couldn't see me. I went up to her and kissed the back of her neck.

"Have you found all the secret passages?" she asked.

"How did you know about them?

"Well, you've just come out of one, and there is a set of the original architects plans in the safe."

Shit! Just how does she do it?

"And how was Emma? Growls a lot doesn't she? Enthusiastic though."

"Have you had tea?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, but if you ask Mrs Johnson nicely I'm sure she'll get you one. If she isn't jealous."

I spent an hour looking over the plans of the house. I finally located where the access to the tower had to be. In our bedroom! Finding it would have to wait because I was knackered and I needed a rest before dinner.

The next morning I was up and about early. My morning coffee was accompanied by a nice kiss from Mrs Johnson, but that was only when Chrissy was out of sight.

"She's going to cramp our style," I complained.

"I expect we'll think of something," she replied, and winked. "I don't think that you are too hard up for female company anyway." And laughing she left me to my coffee.

After breakfast HL was off to town, and I was off to our bedroom, determined to find the entrance to the tower. This one was much more difficult. I could see several places where it ought to be, but I couldn't find where it was. I prowled about, sat on the bed, prodded, knocked, swore, but couldn't find it. I went down to the library to have another look at the plans. These had been prepared by an architect whose practice was still in the county town, after nearly one hundred and fifty years. Remarkably they had employed an assistant who became famous writer in later years, and although his stuff had never appealed to me he had a worldwide following. I idly wondered whether we could prove the plans were his and get hordes of Japanese tourists to come and stay. Funny thing is that a friend of ours had bought a house in a local town, which this bloke had lived in. It was complete with a blue plaque to prove it. When he said he was going to do bed and breakfast I said he ought to go to the local auction rooms and pick up an old bed. He could then tell the guests that the bed had been there when he bought the house and was believed to be the very same that the famous author had slept in. He seemed to think that this would be dishonest. Ah well. I was still poring over the plans whilst musing about this when I spotted an anomaly. There was an extra walk in wardrobe in the bedroom that didn't figure on the plan. I forgot to check the signature on the drawing, not that I was likely to turn the place into a hotel, but you never know, and was off upstairs like an Olympic sprinter. The back of the wardrobe yielded when I found the catch and I was off to parts unknown. Eureka is, I believe the accepted word for discoveries of this import. I just shouted "Fucken' A".

I was presented with a spiral staircase about ten feet in diameter. That is some staircase, and an amazing size to secrete away. As I had done before I first checked to find the catch to let myself out. That sorted I went up the stairs.

The stairs came up into the tower room. As you arrived at the top there was a door that gave access to the rest of the roof. The tower room itself was furnished as a sitting room and as a place to study. It had panoramic views over the estate, there being a large window in each of the four walls, and there was a telescope on a tripod with castors that would have done justice to the bridge of a warship. Someone could watch over their flock from here. I tried it out and found that I could see things that were invisible to the naked eye. I trained it on Emma's domain and found that I could see the paint peeling on her bedroom window. Perhaps I could get her to do a strip one evening. Ho hum. There was little of note in the room, but there were some interesting photos. There was, in particular, the General himself with his wife, one or two with their son, and several of another lady that I assumed must be the General's sister since they were so alike. No doubt HL's researches over the recent past would turn up a name for her.

Investigation of the attic rooms turned up an amazing collection of dresses, uniforms and all sorts of paraphernalia much of which I had no idea as to what it could be used for. Boxes with the most magnificent hats, shoes, boots and much more. I must have been up there for an hour or more when I came down. I checked to see that no one was in the bedroom, because today Mrs Johnson had one of our new ladies in to help. I was quite taken with these ladies too, and in particular Rose. She was in her mid forties, slim and very attractive with a pale 'English' complexion and light blue eyes, and a halo of dark curls. Very nice, but the outstanding thing about her was her personality, which just shone through with her wide and inviting smile, and dancing eyes. I say inviting because I had gained the impression that that was a fair description of it, an invitation, and I hoped I knew what to. As I left the bedroom I ran fully into Rose, who had been walking along the corridor. We crashed over with her going down backwards, saved from too much injury by my having put one hand around her and taken the fall on my other. We were on the floor with her underneath me.