A Good Man
Copyright© 2011 by Marc Nobbs
Chapter 40: Breakfast for the Beast
There was no sign of Jake when we returned to the Liddington house.
Chrissy checked his study first, since it was close to the entrance. When he’d invited me in during the week, there had been a mass of papers scattered haphazardly over the large desk, but now it was completely clear, and his laptop bag was nowhere to be seen.
“I’m so glad he’s out of Daddy’s study,” Clarissa said. “It never felt right for him to be in there.”
The look of distaste on Chrissy’s face suggested to me that she felt the same way, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she headed for the stairs.
“I’m going to check his wardrobe,” she said once she started her ascent. We followed her up the stairs, but not into her bedroom.
“Mostly empty,” she called to us. “He’s left a few old rags behind. If he doesn’t come to get the rest of this rubbish tomorrow, I’ll take it to the charity shop on Monday.” She came back to the doorway. “If they’ll take it.”
“I’ll help,” said Clarissa, with a grin. “It’ll be fine. They’ll take anything.”
“You’ll be in school,” Christine replied with a raised eyebrow. “Anyway, fancy a celebratory nightcap?”
“No thanks, Mum. I’ve got one more present to unwrap waiting in my bedroom.” Clarissa leered at me as she spoke.
“Oh, yes, Charlie told me about that. Perhaps I should have sent Jake to her once or twice to buy me something. Although it wouldn’t have surprised me if he tried to get it on with that young girl she’s got working there. Oh, well. Night, night then. And do try to keep the noise down. Jake might not have been the best husband, but he was good at some things, and I’m not really looking forward to sleeping alone from now on while I can hear you two—”
“Mum! T.M.I!” Clarissa shivered. “Oh, god, now I’ve got visions that will scar me for life.”
“Oh, relax, I’m sure Paul here will help you get rid of them.”
Clarissa shook her head, grabbed my hand and dragged me across the landing to her room.
I’d left the gift box from Charlotte’s Secret on Clarissa’s bed.
She closed the door behind us when we entered her room, let go of my hand and rushed over to the box. She tore the wrapping off like a ten-year-old anticipating her new favourite toy inside.
On Charlotte’s advice, I’d bought a complete outfit consisting of a baby-doll nightie, French knickers, a suspender belt, stockings and a robe which just about covered the stocking tops. I’d also bought a bra that she could wear under her regular clothes with the knickers.
The set was black with red accents, and while it didn’t match her eyes, which is what I’d wanted, Charlotte argued it would set off her hair, and that was more important.
Clarissa squealed with delight as she took each item out of the box, then scooped everything up and left the room. She was gone a little under five minutes, and when she returned...
Wow! I mean, just, Wow!
Charlotte had been right, the colour did go well with Clarissa’s hair.
She stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame with one hand on her hip and her leg bent at the knee. Just like she had been the last time she’d revealed a lingerie outfit to me, the perfect night after the Valentine’s Ball.
The light in the hallway silhouetted her, allowing me to really appreciate the contours of her magnificent figure.
“You like?” It was the same question she’d asked on Valentine’s night. And I nodded dumbly just like I had then too.
The same thought ran through my head as well. How was it possible for someone to be so beautiful? So perfect.
“Do you think it fits me well?” she asked.
“It’s perfect,” I whispered. “You’re perfect.”
She pushed herself off the doorframe, then stepped forward, slowly placing one foot directly in front of the other, which caused her hips to sway. She was still wearing the black heels she’d worn to the party. Her hair, which had been piled up on top of her head, now hung loosely around her shoulders, and that smile I adored so much lit up her face and the room. There was nothing but love in her eyes. Well, maybe a big dose of lust too.
I took a deep breath and said almost exactly what I’d said on Valentine’s. “You’re so beautiful, Clarissa. So unbelievably beautiful. You’re like a dream.”
“I’m no dream,” she replied. “I’m very, very real.”
She reached for the belt, which held the robe closed.
“Want a closer look?”
She didn’t wait for my response before tugging the belt and allowing the robe to fall open. By now, she’d reached the bed where I sat and leaned down to kiss my lips while pushing me gently backwards. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her with me as I fell. We rolled around on the bed for not nearly long enough until I found myself on top of her, looking down at the vision of perfection that was my girlfriend.
On Valentine’s night, she’d been so shy. So timid. So scared. A scared little girl taking her first steps into the big, scary adult world of physical love.
But not anymore. There was no fear in her eyes. No apprehension. She was the same young woman she’d been just over a month ago, but also, she very much wasn’t.
She knew what she wanted.
“Make love to me, Paul,” she whispered.
For the second morning in a row, I woke to the feel of Clarissa’s soft, warm mouth wrapped around my throbbing cock. But unlike the previous morning, Clarissa wasn’t intent on torturing me. Instead, as soon as she realised I was awake, she sucked me harder and faster until I unloaded down her throat. Then she crawled up my body until she was straddling my face and held onto the headboard while I returned the favour.
After cuddling in the afterglow for ten minutes or so, Clarissa put on a short nightie from her drawer and the robe I’d bought her from Charlotte’s Secret on top of it.
“I want to save the rest of the outfit for special occasions,” she said, putting it away.
“Such as?”
“Such as when my boyfriend stays over. So, I plan to get a lot of wear out of it.”
“Maybe not,” I said. Her face fell, but picked up again when I finished. “Because hopefully when I’m staying over and you put that on, it won’t stay on for very long.”
“Oh, I like the sound of that.” She sauntered over and gave me a long, deep kiss. “Now, put on those peejays and robe I bought so that we can go down for breakfast.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Too right, and don’t you forget it,” she said with a playful giggle.
Christine was already up and dressed when we entered the massive kitchen-diner. She was leaning against the breakfast counter, sipping a cup of coffee, and, as usual, she looked stunning. I have to say that even though she was old enough to be my mother, I could easily have fancied her—if I wasn’t already in love with her daughter, of course. She had an air of sophistication about her. You could see precisely where Clarissa got her looks from. Chrissy was like a more mature, more refined version of her daughter.
Or maybe that should be that Clarissa was a younger, fresher version of her mother?
Either way, you could tell instantly they were mother and daughter—one of them with a lifetime of experience that meant she oozed confidence, the other eager to gain all that experience and have fun doing it.
“Morning, you two,” she said with a smirk. “Sleep well?” Now I knew where Clarissa got that glint in her eyes from when she was in a playful mood, too.
“Actually, mother, I did,” said Clarissa, just as playfully. “I don’t know if it’s the orgasms that help me sleep or just being wrapped up in my man’s strong arms.”
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