FRIENDS WITH BIG BENEFITS
Every summer for the past three years Mr.
Robert Churchill (a nephew to Sir Winston Churchill) would vacation with my family and me at our modest Saugatuck, Michigan cottage that we called "Victoria's Secret "
It was a typical 2 story 1800's Victorian. Cute but barely bigger than 1000 square feet. It sat close to our much bigger family cottage called "Twelve Gables".
"Twelve Gables" is a 1800's - 5000 square foot Victorian cottage that was the summer home of the Churchill family for over 50 years until Mr. Churchill sold it to us with certain conditions that involved a lease agreement. In that agreement Mr. Churchill had life time "visitors rights" and a 3 year lease at Victoria's Secret during the months of July and August.
Everything would be furnished for him at a small inclusive fee that amounted to about $60.00 a week for a cottage that had a weekly rental value of $500.
It was a good deal for him, and was a major influence that led him into choosing ME as the ideal one to replace HIM and eventually become the new owner
(along with my family) of his beloved Twelve Gables.
HIS ARRIVAL EVERY SUMMER WAS A MUCH
ANTICIPATED EVENT.
I knew how he liked things and it was fun to prepare
for him because he always acted surprised and happy
over every little thing my family and I did to please him. The pleasure of his company was ours.
Although he appeared to enjoy the privacy of Victoria's Secret it would usually happen that at least 5 times a season, he would call and say there were some nice people he wanted me to meet and would it be okay to bring them over at such and such time to tour Twelve Gables.
Mr. Churchill and I would show his new friends through the down stairs and I would show off the upstairs while he rested downstairs explaining the stairs were getting too much for his 92 year old legs.
(He and I called this gig our "Dog and Pony Act".)
Then he would always remind me to be sure and show our visitors where "Dolly" their beloved housekeeper slept in the former "Servant Quarters" and to be sure and show them the room over looking Lake Michigan from which he wrote his 1970's best selling novel.
I adored Mr. Churchill and tried to make everything extra special in anticipation of his arrival. I would set the table with antique silverware, fine china, and crystal goblets. For the final touch, I would add fresh
cut flowers from Twelve Gables as a center piece.
In the refrigerator I made sure there was enough food to get him by for a few days plus an assortment of drinks, always making sure I included a favorite of his, a bottle of Reunite's "Red Raspberry Wine" .
The last time he summered with us, he left his Old tangerine colored Cadillac Seville parked in the driveway of his Virginia Beach Estate and invited his former neighbor a Mr. Michael Manchester to be HIS
guest at Victoria's Secret (providing he would agree to act as a companion and chauffeur).
As usual Mr. Churchill was happy to see me and upon his arrival he warmly shook my hand and exclaimed:
"MISS BABEBUILT! HOW ARE YOU!" IT IS SO NICE TO SEE YOU! TELL ME HOW HAVE YOU BEEN!"
He sure knew how to make you feel good and I could tell by the look on the face of his friend along side him, that he too understood the undeniable charm of his former neighbor and long time friend.
Mr. Churchill dressed, looked and acted like a distinguished character out of a 1930's British novel.
Seldom was he ever NOT noticeably formal.
He took on a serious look and announced:
"Michael may I present Miss Babebuilt;
Miss Babebuilt may I introduce Michael Manchester."
Never calling me by my first name, I noticed quickly
he didn't hesitate to call Michael by his.
I kidded him and said,
"Hey Mr. Churchill, how come you call him by his first name and you are always so formal with me?"
Michael jumped in and said, "Tell her Robert!"
As he said that he pointed to his own crotch and grinned not letting Robert see what he just did."
I immediately recalled the summer I was hanging up a new lace curtain on the French door leading from his bedroom to the front porch. I was 5 steps up on a ladder and as I stretched upward in my white silky tennis skirt to put the rod on the hanger when I saw the reflection of Mr. Churchill in one of the panes. He was gently and longingly rubbing his cock through his tan hounds tooth dress pants. I felt a sentimental burning to feel him between my legs and wanted to suck him off knowing it had probably been a long time since he had known such pleasure - a pleasure I was sure this still handsome man would have surely known in his many years as head of a theatrical department of a major Midwest university).
Recalling that sentimental memory I quickly tried to let Mr. Churchill save face by saying,
"Oh I understand Mr. Churchill. When you were growing up it was not considered proper to address a woman by her first name."
Giving his friend Michael a stern look Mr. Churchill replied,
"Ahem, that is correct Miss Babebuilt. It does not reflect a lack of regard or affection for YOU in anyway."
With that Mr. Churchill and I proceeded to give Michael a tour of the Victoria's Secret's down stairs area.
Retiring to his favorite old chair, I looked to Mr. Churchill who gave me a nod. Then I took Michael upstairs to show him the guest room I had prepared
especially for him.
I walked up the narrow old stairs ahead of Michael, but in doing so I stumbled falling slightly backward.
He caught me by placing his hands cupped firmly under the cheeks of my sweet sensitive little ass and said,
"Opps, sorry about that...."
I turned to say, "Oh, not YOUR fault!"
But then catching the sparkle in his snapping black eyes and the mischievous half smile on his face,
I could tell he wasn't really sorry at all.
And suddenly becoming aware of the feeling under my skirt, I knew too that neither was I.
I turned back and giving him my best "how dare you look" determinedly continued my climb while playfully shaking my sweet little ass within inches of his face just below my covered clit. He obediently followed me and I felt my cunt controlling him every step of the long stairway to the second floor bedroom.
Michael was pleased with his room and noted it was
equipped with 2 new full sized down mattresses that fit perfectly into the old 4 poster bed.
"Boy you don't often see these! They look new, where did you find these ?"
I explained I patronized a local store that carried nothing but factory out-let down products and
that the pillows and comforters were also made of down feathers.
Michael winked and looking at me brazenly said in a low voice with an English accent:
"Babe you must really like down. Is it ANY good for
love making?"
Such a simple sentence but it drove my body wild
as I imagined this proper handsome English
gentle man laying on top of me and stroking
my silky smooth shaven puffy pussy.
Right about that time we heard Mr. Churchill call up
the stairs:
"Michael I have a matter to discuss with you right
now that will not wait. Please come down stairs."
We had been temporarily been mesmerized-frozen in time - locked in a spell where neither of us dare speak anymore. Mr. Churchill's voice broke that spell and we promptly returned to find him still in the wicker rocker.
"My Nurse Samantha just informed me that Dr. Oates has an opening if I today, I check myself into St. Mary's Hospital for my annual physical. I would like
to get it over with. Are you free to drive me now?"
Michael looked back at me and knowingly winked
before he answered:
"Of course Mr. Churchill. Miss Babebuilt and I can
handle everything here just fine until you return.
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