By Kinkabella
Archived Here With Her Kind Permission

Sunday, August 14, 2005

Riverside Crescent and the houses that lined it were like any suburban street you might imagine. Neat, new brick and tile houses; manicured lawns and tendered gardens; the street itself a sheen of licorice colored ashfelt that wended its tree-lined way to the top of a small rise at which it terminated in a cul-de-sac. It was like any suburban street, except for one significant difference. At the top of the rise, instead of there being another newly built house there was a large and imposing gateway with a long drive leading to a rambling old house which had stood at the top of the hill for over a hundred years. The land around it had originally been farming land and one of the descendents of the original owner (Edward Brown) had, according to gossip in the neighborhood, become very wealthy as a result of selling it off for suburban development.

Edward Brown was something of an enigma. Nobody I knew in the neighborhood had ever seen him, much less met him. Occasionally I'd see his black limousine gliding silently past my house but it was impossible to see anything through the darkly tinted windows other than the shadowy silhouette of a man sitting in the back. I sometimes thought of waving, as I did whenever I saw any of the other neighbors pass by, but for some inexplicable reason, doing so always seemed inappropriate in some way. I never once imagined he'd even have noticed me whenever he passed, so it came as a big surprise that day when his limousine drew up alongside the curb outside my house and stopped.

"Of all days to meet him, he picks this one!" I remember saying to myself when his window lowered and I saw him for the first time.

I'd been doing some gardening and so wasn't dressed terribly elegantly. My white blouse was untucked with the sleeves rolled up; my blue jeans had grass stains on the knees, and my straw gardening hat had seen better days. It was quite a warm day as well, and I was sure my makeup would have been smudged and marked with dirt where my gloved hands had wiped perspiration from it. What a sight I must have presented!

"Your garden is lovely," was the first thing he said, drawing particular attention to my roses that were in full spring bloom.

I was taken aback slightly, not just because he'd complimented me but because he didn't look at all like I'd imagined he'd look. He appeared to be in his sixties, but his tanned face beneath a shock of white-gray hair and the sparkling eyes that peered out from under it at me gave the illusion of him being much more youthful than that. His smile was also quite disarming in its charm and sincerity.

"Thank you," I mumbled and gave a modest wave of my arm as if to deny I worked too hard to keep my garden looking the way it did.

He just smiled and paused an uncomfortably long moment before saying "I could do with a green-thumb around my place."

"Could you?"

At first I thought he was going to ask if I knew anybody who might be able to help but it quickly became clear he meant me. I blushed and felt a little silly for not realizing his suggestion more quickly. "Do you mean me? But I..."

"Yes. Have you got a few minutes right now to come have a look?"

"Well ..." I thought for a moment and tried to think of a reason why I shouldn't. I was certainly curious about what was beyond the large metal gates to his house, plus I felt it would be impolite to refuse, since he asked so nicely. "Yes, okay. Just let me get cleaned up a little first."

"You look fine as you are," he laughed as he opened the door and waved a hand for me to join him in the back seat of the limo.

I blushed again and smiled coyly back at him. Surely I didn't look fine, but he clearly didn't seem to mind. I slipped off my gardening gloves and tucked them into the pocket of my jeans before stepping into the spacious back seat area. I resisted the urge to say "wow" and the luxury of it and tried to relax.

"I'm Edward," he said, extending a hand to me.

"Ingrid," I said, offering a hand in return.

"Charmed, I'm sure," he said, gently taking my hand and raising it to kiss its back.

It was an unexpected gesture that almost made me giggle out loud.

"Turn the car around," he then said, indicating to his driver.

I smiled and soaked in the stately aromas of the leather seats and walnut trim.

"Would you like a drink?"

"It's a little early in the day, isn't it?" I laughed slightly as I watched him pour two scotches from a crystal decanter.

"What time is it?" Edward's lips curled up in a devilish grin as he pulled back his coat sleeve to reveal a jewel-encrusted watch and watchband. "Nearly 11am," he noted. "Plenty late enough for a wee dram of a fine single malt!"

He was joking with me and I joined him in his good humor, laughing and accepting the small glass of scotch.

The limo glided silently back up the street, through the cul-de-sac and the heavy iron gates to his house. An avenue of ancient oaks lined the drive making it difficult to see the house until we were almost right up to it. The majesty of its beauty was breath taking. Three levels of grand, old-fashioned opulence fashioned in the Georgian style. A terrace at one end covered what looked like a large, glass-lined conservatory; a white marble statue of a nude woman was the centerpiece of a large fountain in the middle of the circular drive at the entrance. I eagerly peered through the darkened glass windows, trying to take in as much of the scene as was possible.

Once the driver had stopped, he alighted from his seat and held open the back door of the limo while Edward and I climbed out -- Edward, ever the gentleman, ushering me ahead of himself.

First impressions of the gardens surrounding the mansion were that they didn't need any work at all. There looked to be well over an acre of them and they looked like a botanical paradise. I didn't want to be rude, but I felt it had to be said. "Are you sure you need any gardening work done?"

I noticed Edward's lips slowly curling up into a grin again. "Well, to be honest, no. It's just that I thought, seeing how much you obviously like gardening, that you'd appreciate seeing my garden. I don't have many visitors, least of all ones who have an eye for natural beauty."

The way Edward said "natural beauty" and the manner in which he looked directly into my eyes as he said it made me feel slightly peculiar in the pit of my stomach. I got the distinct impression he wasn't talking about his garden but rather about me. Was he flirting with me? I couldn't remember the last time anybody had done so and it tweaked a pleasure in me I'd all but forgotten about.

"It's very beautiful," I said, pretending to ignore his entendre as I surveyed the magnificent gardens surrounding the mansion.

"Let me show you around..."

Edward briefly placed a hand in the small of my back as he ushered me towards a path that led around the side of the glass conservatory. Out back was an enormous swimming pool surrounded by sandstone paving and Greco-Roman colonnades. Beyond the pool even more acres of neatly manicured lawns, gently rolling down to the river fringed with graceful old willows. I stood for a moment awed by the sight.

"Let me show you around inside," Edward said, suddenly breaking into my reverie.

I was just as awed with the inside of the mansion as I was with the grounds surrounding it. Edward led me through a kitchen that was a large as my entire house. There was a formal lounge room as well as a dining room with a huge, gothic styled oak table that could seat at least twenty people. Through the dining room was a smaller sitting room and then a games room complete with full sized billiard table and a number of pinball and poker machines scattered around the walls.

"Do you play?" Edward asked, noticing me admiring the billiard table.

"I've played once or twice," I replied. "I'm not very good..."

"Perhaps I should teach you," Edward volunteered as he removed the wooden triangle that racked the colored balls.

I smiled and sighed that I had doubts as to whether he could teach me to play properly.

"Nonsense!" Edward laughed. "Here, you take this cue and I'll show you what to do."

I accepted the cue stick and held it nervously while watching Edward set the white ball at the end of the table closest to me.

"Are you right or left handed?"

"Right," I replied.

"Good. Then lean forward and put your left hand there, close to the ball. Make a kind of a dome shape with your fingers and place the shaft of the cue resting lightly there between your thumb and forefinger."

I did as I was instructed but it all still felt very awkward and unnatural.

"Lightly. Hold the cue lightly with your right hand so it glides easily over your thumb and forefinger. Here, let me show you."

Before I had a chance to fully realize what he was doing, Edward had moved in close behind me and had enveloped me with his arms. His left hand rested beside my left on the green felt and his right was lightly cupped over my right hand. I trembled a little at the feeling of being embraced by him; his voice now hot, moist and close to my left ear as he directed me to relax.

"It's all about balance," he continued saying. You need to make a tripod shape between this hand (my left on the table) and your two feet on the floor."

The sweet scent of his expensive aftershave was now strong in my nostrils. I began to feel terribly anxious, especially when he suggested I bend over further forward and spread my feet on the floor.

"It's for balance," he whispered.

I felt light-headed and strange doing what he suggested. He spoke so calmly and reassuringly as if there was nothing unusual about what he wanted me to do, but something still didn't feel right. I wriggled my feet apart, a few inches at first and then wider until there was maybe eighteen inches separating them. As I moved I could feel Edward's body pressing more tightly behind mine. The realization that his crotch, now bulging in his trousers, was rubbing against my pussy through the denim fabric of my jeans caused my body to shiver involuntarily. Still, he spoke softly and reassuringly in such a way that I felt it would have been impolite of me to make any kind of protest.

"The secret to this game is to let the weight of the stick do all the work. Don't force the shot and be sure to follow-through," Edward explained and demonstrated by guiding my cue stick holding hand through a few test shots at nothing.

The stick gilded smoothly back and forth over my left hand's thumb and forefinger.

"Don't try and pull away," Edward whispered, holding my right hand tightly at the end of the stroke so as not to lift the stick away immediately after the shot had been taken. "Can you feel that? The stick does all the work..."

It became increasingly difficult to concentrate once I realized Edward was gently grinding his bulging trousers against my pussy. There was now no mistaking which "stick" he was referring to, and it wasn't the one I was holding in my hands. I also realized that by not saying anything, I was tacitly encouraging him to continue rubbing against me, but I couldn't find the words to tell him to stop. It was as if my tongue had become paralyzed in my mouth.

"That's better," Edward whispered encouragingly. "Try it again by yourself."

Edward released his grip on my hand and began standing upright behind me. I thought he was going to move away from behind me and breathed a small sigh of relief, but he didn't. Instead, he placed his hands on my hips and began slowly simulating intercourse behind me as I tried to steady myself to take a couple more practice shots with the cue stick.

"Keep your focus on the balls at the other end of the table," Edward said. "That's your target and you should never take your eyes off it. Don't let anything distract your attention away from it..."

I did my best to concentrate even though I could now feel Edward's hands drifting up under my blouse.

"Feel the stick ... feel the way it glides so smoothly..." Edward said as fingers lightly feathered a trail up my stomach towards my breasts. "Are you focused?"

"Yes," I gasped lightly as his fingers came into contact with the cups of my bra and began exploring the shapes of my breasts.

"Remember, you must not let anything distract you from your target. Keep all your attention focused on it, no matter what."

A small moan was all that I could offer by way of a response as Edward's fingers found my nipples and began gently pinching at them through the fabric of my bra. They were tingling and fully swollen by some perverse arousal I was feeling. His voice, reminding me over and over not to let myself become distracted became hypnotic. I noticed the heady aroma of his aftershave starting to become mixed with another aroma. Something familiar. It was the pungent scent of my own arousal wafting up from between my legs.

"Just relax..." Edward intoned quietly. His fingers toyed a moment longer with my erect nipples before drifting back down my stomach. I could feel him groping for the button of my jeans and instinctively knew what he intended to do, but still I carried on the charade of concentrating on the balls on the table. He was clearly determined to have it open and, once open, his fingers grabbed my zipper and tugged roughly on it until it was completely undone.

There couldn't be any more pretending I wasn't aware of what Edward was doing but his thumbs hooked into the tops of my jeans and he began forcing them down off my hips without me saying a word of protest.

"Put your legs together," he whispered as he struggled with my jeans.

I knew he'd not be able to pull down my jeans as long as I kept my legs spread, but inner voices had now taken control of my senses and I found myself obediently bringing my feet together.

"Keep focused," Edward said. He dragged my panties down with my jeans until both were gathered around my ankles. "Feel the stick. Can you feel the stick?"

It definitely wasn't the cue stick in my hands Edward was now talking about. He had again pressed his body tightly behind mine only this time I could feel his cock, stiffly erect and freed from his trousers, lightly brushing against the slick lips of my pussy.

"Tell me how the stick should move, Ingrid. Should it glide smoothly?"

And with that, before I had a chance to say "yes", I felt the full length and girth of Edward's cock slipping easily into my pussy. I squirmed and gasped. The fronts of my thighs were pressed firmly against the edge of the billiard table and there was no way to stop Edward pinning me in that position with his cock. His hands again slipped up under my blouse and went in search of my breasts and nipples. This time, however, they grabbed the tops of my lacy bra cups and pulled them down to expose my breasts under my blouse.

"Concentrate, Ingrid," Edward whispered as he pinched and twisted my nipples while energetically pounding my pussy with his large cock.

I dropped the cue stick and collapsed onto my elbows on the table top, hanging my head in shame as Edward continued to maul my breasts and savagely fuck my slippery pussy.

"You like this?" Edward wasn't asking. He was stating a fact as he tore open my blouse from the inside out.

I struggled a little bit as he ripped my blouse and bra from my body. It was surely ruined, but I didn't care. His hard cock held me pinned to the billiard table and I could feel my pussy spasm with delight around it.

"Tell me you're loving this," Edward said, demanding a response.

"Yes!" I gasped loudly, whimpering and moaning in the throes of ecstasy under his body weight...