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Summer in the Hamptons Ch. 03

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Mike Robertson checked the guest suite carefully for the third time. Joanne Leigh was due within the hour, and he knew that if something were less than perfect, she would be vociferous in her complaint. Joanne Leigh, niece of his employers, was approaching 35, was still unmarried, knew the biological clock was ticking away and seemed to behave more like a spoiled brat the older she got. Mike smiled to himself, and slightly disarranged the towels in the bathroom, thinking that once she found something to criticize, she would be happy. He could almost hear her say, “Michael. The towels in my bathroom were all over the place when I arrived. I’m sure that my Uncle and Aunt would be devastated to hear about it.”. As it was, professional pride took over and he tweaked everything back into place with a sigh.

Joanne arrived, and fussed over the removal of her bags from the back of the car which had brought her from the airport. “I have no cash, Mike, will you please see to the driver?” she said, not making eye contact as she tottered into the house on her Manolo Blahniks. Mike raised his eyebrows as he slipped the driver a $20 bill. The driver deftly pocketed it, and drove off leaving Mike amongst the Luis Vuitton luggage. Struggling slightly as he maneuvered the heavy bags onto his cart just inside the door, he saw the grinning face of his friend, Lenny, the Chef. “Struggling, mate?” asked Lenny – a rare creature, an English chef – in his cockney accent.

“Yeah.” said Mike. This designer stuff weighs a bloody ton before you put anything in it. It’s obviously designed for people who don’t ever have to carry their own bags.” He took the bags to the guest suite, where the housekeeper was waiting to unpack. As he prepared to leave, he saw Joanne prowling round on a tour of inspection, and sensed that she seemed a bit put out that there was nothing that she could criticize.

For the next few days, Joanne made life very difficult for the staff. She ordered lunch for one o’clock, and then didn’t come back for it until 3. She calmly announced half an hour after Citarella had closed that she was expecting 3 dinner guests, and after Lenny had sweated blood preparing the meal she calmly announced that she and her friends would eat out after all. She told Mike to make bookings at three or four restaurants for the same evening, and then decide at the last minute which one to which she would go. It took all Mike’s diplomacy skills to pacify irate restaurateurs. Lenny was furious, and railed at Mike that they shouldn’t have to put up with this kind of behavior. Mike was trying to shut

When at home, Joanne spent a lot of time by the pool, and seemed to sense when Mike was at the far end of the house so that she could complain about the amount of time it took to respond to her calls. Most of these calls were for exotic cocktails, and Mike knew that she was trying to catch him out with either something he didn’t know, or for which he was missing a vital ingredient. Luckily, the cellars at the house contained a good supply of every drink under the sun, and cocktail.com was bookmarked on the computer in Mike’s office.

Lenny found it very difficult, as he saw one after another of his culinary creations ruined due to being over cooked or abandoned. He complained bitterly to Mike one morning, and Mike was gesturing him to shut up. Just as Lenny was saying, “What that bloody woman needs a damn good seeing to” Mike caught his attention. The phone system in the house was so arranged that instead of calling an extension, one paged it. On some extensions, when this was done, the caller could hear what was being said in the other room. Mike had seen the little red light that indicated a call on the kitchen extension, and, not knowing who was listening in, did not wish to make his thoughts, or, indeed, his presence, known.

By the time Mike’s day off came round, he was more than ready for a break. He was just preparing to buff up his motorcycle prior to going out, when Joanne came into the garage to collect Mrs Leigh’s Mercedes SL500 that she liked to drive. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, somewhat taken aback by the sight of Mike in his leathers. “As it’s my day off, Miss Joanne, I’m heading into New York. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. I shall be staying in my apartment in the Penthouse tonight.”

“Oh,” she said. “I forgot it was your day off. Aren’t you hot in all that gear?”

Mike smiled. “Yes, I am. But at forty miles an hour, this leather means the difference between getting back on the machine after coming off and needing skin grafts. I’ll be uncomfortable for the next couple of hours, but not the next five years.”

Joanne seemed to relax a little, and she leaned against the Merc. “Actually,” she said with a smile, tapping her lips with the car keys “You look quite good in all that leather.” Mike blushed a little, and muttered something self-deprecating. “Actually, I’m glad you’re going to be in New York tonight, as I shall be, güvenilir bahis too. Now, I don’t need to find a hotel. See you there later.”

Mike muttered to himself grumpily most of the way down the Long Island Expressway. He had intended to have a relaxing evening well away from work, but now She would be coming to upset his plans. He emerged sweating from the mid town tunnel, and expertly swung his motorbike through the traffic until he got to the apartment building, where the valet parking guy waved him through to his parking spot. Greeting Mike as effusively as he greeted everybody associated with the more heavily tipping of the building’s occupants, he asked how everything was. Mike told him that he was back for his day off, would be leaving sometime the next day, and that Mr Leigh’s niece would be parking the SL 500 overnight. It would probably need valeting.

Mike went up to the Penthouse, turned on the central air conditioning, and went through to his own quarters. He took off his leathers and had a refreshing shower, then changed into some casual slacks and a shirt. It was his day off, and Joanne couldn’t expect him to dress up in his full striped pants and black jacket that day. He did, however, go into the guest room and, out of professional pride, make sure that all was well in there before going out to the supermarket to lay in some essentials such as eggs, milk and coffee for the morning. He returned to his room, and was quietly reading his book when he heard the whirr of the elevator doors announcing Joanne’s arrival. She sauntered into the Penthouse, dropped he purse on the hall table, and watched the doorman carry her overnight bag and suiter into the guest room. She patted pockets, and said, “Michael would you . . .?” and Mike smiled and passed a note to the doorman who rolled his eyes as he headed for the elevator, muttering, “Good luck, Pal.”

Joanne looked at Mike, casually dressed and holding his book, and said in a surprisingly gentle voice, “OK, Michael. I know it’s your day off. I shouldn’t be any bother. I have a hot date tonight, and I’ll just get changed and go out. What are your plans?”

Mike shrugged his shoulders, and told her that he had no real plans. He meant to use his time off to recharge his batteries so that he could ensure that the rest of her stay was pleasant, and would probably go out for a bite of dinner and .have an early night. He asked if Joanne needed a car service, and as requested, arranged for a car to pick her up at 7.

Once Joanne was safely off the premises, Mike went into the guest room and quickly tidied and serviced the bathroom, mopping out the shower and laying out fresh towels. He turned down the bed, and checking that all was well, he went out for dinner. He went to small French restaurant that he liked on Lexington Avenue and where the staff knew him well enough to give him a good table, and mellowed by a couple of glasses of wine, Mike made his way back through a light summer shower. He was in his sitting room catching up with “The Daily Show” when he heard the telephone ring. Forgetting for the moment that he was supposed to be off duty, he muted the TV, and picked it up. “Good evening, the Leigh residence. This is Mike speaking, how may I help you?”

He heard what seemed to be sobbing. “Michael, is that you?”

“Yes. Who’s calling?”

“It’s me, Joanne Leigh. I need your help.” He heard more sobbing and snuffling.

“Of course, Miss Joanne. What can I do?”

“Could you come and pick me up” I’ve just had the date from hell, and I’m stranded.”

“Absolutely, Miss. Where are you?”

She gave him a downtown location, and he asked her to remain in bright streetlight whilst he came straight down. He called the valet parking for the Leigh’s town car, and by the time he got to the lobby it was ready. Hopping in, he punched the address into the GPS, and let the car do the navigation as he drove it downtown. As he approached the intersection, he peered through the rain and saw Joanne huddled beneath a lamppost. He pulled alongside, and ran round with an umbrella to open the door for her. She hopped in, and as he resumed his seat, she said, “That was very gallant, but quite unnecessary. I’m already soaked.”

Noting from the way that she pronounced the word “shoaked”, Mike guessed that Joanne had consumed quite a lot of booze. He drove carefully up town, as Joanne huddled against the window and gave out the occasional snuffle and sob. When they got back to the building, one of the doormen ran out to help Joanne down, and as she stumbled Mike saw that she had lost the heel from one of her Jimmy Choo shoes. Between them, Mike and the doorman got her to the elevator, where she shivered and dripped rainwater on the carpet all the way up to the Penthouse. Mike opened the door, and Joanne removed her shoes so that she could walk through with the semblance of steadiness. As she made for the guest room, Mike asked, “May I make you some coffee, Miss Joanne?” türkçe bahis She turned, looked at him, and said, “Yes. Please. That would be nice.”

Mike made coffee, and as he carried the tray through into the living room, Joanne entered it from the guest room. She was wearing a long, toweling bathrobe, her face was clean of make up and her wet, black hair was combed back behind her ears. She still seemed upset as she sat in the sofa, and Mike placed the tray with the coffee things close by. “Will that be all, Miss Joanne?” he asked.

“No, Michael, it won’t. I want you to get a cup and sit down and have a coffee with me.”

“Very well, Miss. I’m not sure that it’s proper, but I’m here to do your bidding.”

He brought a second cup from the kitchen, and poured coffee for the two of them. Joanne added cram and sugar to hers, took a sip, and put it on the table. Tears came to her eyes, and ran down her cheeks, and wordlessly, Mike passed over a box of tissues. As she leant forward to take one, the front of her robe fell open a little way, and Mike quickly and, he thought, unnoticed, averted his gaze. Joanne wiped her face, blew her nose, and held the tissue in her hand. Mike quietly took it from her, and placed it in the bin. As he returned to his chair, she glared at him. “Does nothing ever faze you, you cold Englishman?” she demanded.

“I don’t know what you mean, Miss.”

“I follow you into the City and fuck up your day off – yes I did, don’t argue. I saw you got the room ready and then tidied it up after I went out. Then I get blitzed because of a crappy date where the guy passed out after doing cocaine and I call you out from your bed and you come without a word, and then make a pot of god-dammed coffee like there’s nothing wrong. All week I’ve been trying to get to you, but it all just bounces off.”

“Miss Joanne, I work for your Uncle. He asked me to make your stay enjoyable, and I do my best. If it means I lose a bit of my day off, so be it. Your Uncle will make it up to me.”

“But you haven’t done everything you can. Lenny was right, if by “a good seeing to” he meant a good screw. I thought I was going to get one tonight, but the bastard passed out on me. Now it’s down to you. I want you to come to bed with me.” So saying, she stood up and pulled Mike to his feet and tried to kiss him.

Mike gently held her arms, and looked into her teary eyes. “Miss Joanne” he began, “I work for your Uncle, and I am, as I say, here to do your bidding. However, I don’t know that I can do that which you ask. You have, if you’ll forgive me for saying so, had quite a lot to drink tonight. If I come to bed with you, in the morning you could get all remorseful and call building security and have me charged with molesting you, and with the DNA evidence, I wouldn’t have much of a defense.”

Joanne glared at him, “You mean you’re just going to leave me hanging like this?”

“Forgive me, Miss, I was about to make a suggestion. I shall shortly, with your permission, retire to my own quarters. If you choose, after considering the matter for a few minutes, to visit me there, it would put a totally different slant on the way either of might feel in the morning.”

With that, Mike stepped back, bowed his head briefly, and retired to his room. Closing the door behind him, he leaned on it for a moment, and sighed. Feeling stressed, he went into his bathroom and began to run a hot bath with his favorite lavender scented bubble bath for relaxation. He had just sunk into the bath, when he heard the door to his quarters open, and he heard Joanne’s voice call his name softly. “I’m in the bath” he replied, and he felt a cool breeze as the bathroom door opened fully. Joanne stood there, still wearing her robe. “May I join you?” she asked, adding after a pause, “Please?” Mike sat up, and gestured with his arm. “Be my guest.” Joanne turned her back on him, and stepped into the bath. Carefully, still facing away from him, she sat down between his legs and leaned forward. “This lavender seems so relaxing and good. Now, please, wash my back.”

Mike took a washcloth and the soap that matched the bath foam, and began to wash Joanne’s shoulders. He sensed the tension in the muscles, and, dropping the washcloth he used his soapy hands gently to massage her until he felt the muscles start to relax a little. Slowly, Joanne leaned back and Mike’s hands moved down from her shoulders to the upper part of her chest, where he could feel the start of the swelling of her slightly droopy C cup breasts. He hands cam up and grabbed his, and guided them down so that he was cupping her breasts, lifting them and massaging them, teasing as his thumbs danced around the nipples without actually touching them. Joanne pressed his hands into her breasts more firmly, and he felt her ease her back closer to him. He leant forward and began to nibble her ear, as she reached behind her with both hands to pull his head forward so that he was nuzzling neck. Still mauling her güvenilir bahis siteleri breast with his left hand, he let his right move down over her stomach into the patch of hair he felt there, and as he felt her lips open to his middle finger, he slipped it inside and began a circular motion that also rubbed her clitoris with his knuckle. Joanne moaned, and said, “Not that. I can do that for myself. I want you do something that I can’t do for myself.”

They got out of the bath, and as they faced each other to dry off, Mike got his first view of her body. Shoulders, arms and legs tanned, but breasts and midriff white from the one-piece costume that she wore in the sun. Her breasts were drooping slightly, as he had felt, and there was the start of a little flab on her belly. Generally, though, she was in pretty good shape for her age, and as she finished drying herself she dropped the towel, and Mike saw the rich growth of black hair at her crotch, neatly trimmed and waxed into a triangle that would not show at the edges of her bathing suits. They stepped towards each other, and Joanne grasped at Mikes almost erect penis. “That’s what I want.” she said, “all of it.”

They stepped through into Mike’s small bedroom, and fell onto the bed where they lay on their sides facing each other, fondling as much of each other’s bodies as they could reach. Slowly, Joanne rolled onto her back and Mike’s finger’s once again found their way to her hot, moist orifice. His fingertips danced around her clitoris, and teased open her lips, as once again she told him, “No. I can do that myself. I want you to . . . ” She stopped talking with a squeal as Mike suddenly shuffled his body down the bed, and began kissing her lower stomach as he continued to tease her with his fingers. His lips felt the roughness of her pubic hair as he made his way south, and he felt her shudder as he parted her outer labia with his fingers, and began to gently dart at the opening with his tongue. All Joanne could do was moan and squeak as he delicately lapped at her opening portal, like a moth sucking nectar from an orchid, then she let out a shrill wailing whimper as his mouth quickly snapped on the emerging bud of her clitoris, before resuming its assault on her lips. Mike squirmed himself into a comfortable position, as he concentrated on the task in hand, as he coordinated the movement of the fingers now buried deep in Joanne with the dancing of his tongue on the labia and the occasional nibbles of her clitoris. He reached up with his free hand, and found her breast, and began to tweak the nipple as he concentrated more on the nibbling. He could sense Joanne’s excitement rising, as she was getting noisier and noisier. Also, she was grinding her sopping wet pubis against his face as more and more moisture slicked his embedded finger. Suddenly, she shuddered violently, screamed, and Mike felt his hand and face get splashed as Joanne squirted from her vagina. Mike slowly withdrew his face, but left his finger in place as he gently stroked he clitoris as Joanne slowly wound down from her orgasm.

She pushed his hand away as she struggled for breath, and glanced down at the mess between her legs. “Oh my God! I am so sorry. That has only happened to me a couple of times before, and I was thinking I was never going to have a female ejaculation again. And certainly not with a man.”

As she lay recovering, Mike went to the bathroom and wiped his face, and returned with a hand towel soaked in warm water that he passed to Joanne to clean herself with. As she thanked him again, Mike lay down beside her, propped himself on his elbow, looked her in the eyes and smiled. “May I ask a question?”

“Sure you can. After that, ask anything you like!”

“What did you mean, when you said “not with a man” just now?”

Joanne looked at him. “Didn’t you know? I’m bi-sexual. But none of my girl friends ever gave me head like that.” Mike smiled again, “Not at all Miss Joanne. I endeavor to give satisfaction.”

“Don’t look so damned smug, buster, ‘cos you ain’t done giving satisfaction yet.”

So saying, Joanne grabbed for Mike’s penis, “I haven’t sampled this, yet.” So saying, she pulled Mike on top of her and maneuvered him into position, and he pushed himself into her. She moaned slightly, and asked him to go gently as she was still a little sensitive. Dutifully, Mike gently slid in and out of her, not thrusting fully inside her to avoid putting too much pressure on her clitoris. As time passed, however, Joanne started thrusting up harder herself, grinding her crotch into his as she surrendered to another orgasm which, whilst less powerful than her first, was nonetheless satisfying. The extra grip afforded his member by her tightening muscles was all that was necessary for Mike, who gave in to his own orgasm shortly afterwards. Pulling the now soaking covers off the bed, Mike and Joanne collapsed into each other’s arms and fell asleep.

The next morning, Mike woke up and found Joanne sitting at the edge of the bed, with her bathrobe on. “Good morning, Miss Joanne.” He whispered. “How do you feel this morning?” She turned to face him. “How do you think I feel? Half of me feels so guilty and used, but . . .”

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