A Vacation at Clairbourne Manor

(Author Note: As always, I want to thank you for taking the time to read my story and hope you enjoy it. I know I am not the perfect writer, but if you find something that will help me improve or have good or bad comments, please, let me know. Thanks!)

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This had to be the worse vacation she had been on in her life, even the yearly camping trips that her parents claimed built character and self reliance hadn't been as bad as this. At least she was used to the poison ivy and sunburn. She could cope with the long hikes and freezing mountain water to bathe in. That all seemed like paradise compared to standing on a deserted train platform in the middle of the night with thunder, lightening and rain falling down like a solid sheet of water. To make it worse, the roof leaked, and the wind was constantly shifting so it was impossible to find a place that you could sit and relax. As it was, she was cold, wet and the thin t-shirt and jean jacket she wore did little to keep out either the wind or the cold. As it was, she wished her grandmother hadn't been so determined that she was to come to England even after the old lady had fallen and broken her hip.

She lit a cigarette and shivered. "Well, sorry grandma, as soon as the sun comes up and the depot opens, I am on the next train back to London, and a jet taking me home. This is the worse vacation in my life, and I want to go home." She would be on the phone telling her grandmother that if her damn cell phone was working out here in the middle of nowhere. "I'm sorry I won't be able to do as you wanted and go spend two weeks with your childhood friend at Clairbourne Manor, but enough is enough, even for me."

God, if only she was so brave as to tell her grandmother all that. But everyone in the family knew that Dusti Kingman was the biggest coward in the family. She hated storms, hated the dark, hated being alone in any of them. She suffered from nightmares and had since she was seven years old, when three older boys had attacked her in the park where she had been playing alone. They had beaten and bruised her and used pocket knives to cut her all over her pudgy little body. When the police had found then they had given no reason for it. For Dusti it had been no more traumatic then the endless practical jokes and constant fear inducing things her brothers had done to her. Not to mention the teasing and being shut out of their lives by her older sisters. Too often she had found her self locked in closets or the attic until her parents came to rescue her. Was it no wonder that her teacher had all too often referred to her as the most shy, timid girl they had ever had to teach? She seldom spoke in school and when called on spoke only in a soft whisper.

Her physical and mental scars had been with her all her life, and this trip had only reinforced her resolve to never leave her home again. It had seemed doomed from the start. First she almost missed her connection in New York, and weather had delayed their landing in London by almost two hours. A high terrorist alert level had made her time in customs hell on earth and it had been late in the day before she ever reached her hotel. The bed had been the only good part, and she had slept for over eighteen hours, which meant she had slept away one of the five days she had allowed herself for sightseeing. Then to add insult to injury, she had miscalculated the cost of the hotel, the ratio of Euro to the U.S. dollar.

Then the people themselves didn't seem to care very much for her. Maybe it was just her, but most people she spoke too were down right rude, and she wasn't sure if it was because she was an American, or because she tended to follow the gothic style of hair, make up and clothes. That was normal, but back home she was used to it, and walking the streets of London, she saw kids who were more into it then she would ever be. They had actually turned out to be the ones who were the most helpful, and less worried about her tall, full figured body then people back home. One, a short, round girl with half her head shaved and the other in one long spike, and named GiGi had helped her find her way back to the hotel and stayed to have dinner with her. The next morning GiGi and her boyfriend Monty had helped her find the train station and waited with her until she was on board the train for here.

As she felt the wind started shifting again and the rain spraying in on her, Dusti huddled as deeply into her jacket as she could and wished the sun would come up. This was England in the summer time? Where was the sunshine, the clear blue sky, all the things her grandmother had told her about? Her grandmother was old, but not so old as to have forgotten things like that cold wind and the even colder rain? No, it just had to be more of her bad luck. Her mother swore that of all her children, Dusti had been the one born under the unlucky star. She had been born on Friday the 13th, and in the thirteenth hour and thirteenth minute of the day. She had been doomed from the moment of her birth.

Finding a dry corner of the depot, she made herself as small as she could and huddled there as she let her tears rolls down her cheek. "I want to go home; I don't want to be here anymore. I love you grandma, but why did you ever make me come here?" Clutching her knapsack to her chest, she cried as she had never cried before uncaring that her makeup was running or that there was no one there to hear her. She would have walked to town if a check of a map hadn't told her it was at least two miles away. Walking in the dark, on a stormy night, in a place she didn't know was her worse nightmare. Her tears began to fall harder and she wished the sun would come up.

She must have dozed off because the next thing she knew there was a sign of the false dawn and a man was bending over her. Not that he did much to relieve her fear. He was tall and slender to the point of being more then a walking skeleton with skin. His long, greasy black hair and darker then night eyes were set in a pale face that showed clear, sharp features. His worn jeans, button up shirt and jacket didn't help either. She jumped and he grinned at her.

"Was beginning to think you were frozen in that position. Are you Dusti?"

She nodded. "Who are you?" He didn't have an English accent, in fact he sounded as American as her.

He shook his head. "No time for introductions right now, my car is right over there, and with the price of petrol, I'm burning precious resources. Go get in, I'll grab your bags." When she hesitated, he sighed. "I was supposed to pick you up when the train came in, let's just say my grandmother is going to have my ass for it as it stands, and I'm in no mood to deal with a frightened child. Just get in the damn car will you?"

She went reluctantly but once seated in the car, she was glad she had. The heater was blowing full force and it was warm. When he climbed in behind the wheel, she saw he was perfectly at ease. She swallowed hard as she asked, "Uh, just how far we from Clairbourne?"

"We're seven miles to the turn off and another three to the house. And I should warn you, you won't be staying in the manor. It burned to the ground last year and we're still cleaning up the rubble before we decide if we're going to rebuild or not. However, there is a cozy little carriage house that is currently being occupied by myself, my grandmother and two old women who act as house keeper and cook. It is large enough that we don't stumble all over each other but small enough to make it much more economical then staying at the inn in town."

Dusti shrugged her shoulders. "Hey, as long as there's a bed I can sleep in and a hot shower, you could tell me I had to sleep with you and I wouldn't care right now."

He grinned at that. "Well, that could be arranged, since grandma and the two old ladies sleep in the rooms downstairs. I wouldn't mind. It's been a while since I had a warm and willing bed partner."

"As cold as I am right now, I don't know about the first part. And why don't you sound English? You sound as American as me."

"Probably because I am, I was born in the states. I came here right after high school to go to Oxford, on a full scholarship that I lost after I flunked out my first year. Grandpa had died that year and grandma was all alone. She talked me into moving out here and I been here every since. That was probably about the time you were just starting school."

"Depends, I turned eighteen in March, the 13th to be exact. So how old are you?"

"I'm old enough to know better, but young enough not to care. Meaning you were about five at the time. Which, depending how you did in Math, tells you that I am thirty two, much too old for a sweet young thing like you."

Despite herself Dusti giggled. "You never know, I might like older men."

"Do you?"

"I have no idea. I know the boys back home totally bore me, and beyond them, that's as far as I am willing to say." She couldn't believe she was talking to him this way. Never did she talk so much to anyone, let alone a man she had just met. Maybe it was just being with another human being after being alone so long, add to that, she was warm. Even with the storm still raging outside, she was really warm. "By the way, what happened to summer, this feels more like fall or early spring to me."

"It's the coldest summer on record for over two hundred years. It's been raining like this for over a week, and the rivers are flooded badly. I hate to tell you, but if it doesn't let up, you may be here longer then you planned."

"Why is that?"

He turned onto a side road. "You're about to see why."

She saw in the headlights and it was not a pretty sight. In a normal time, it would have been just a small river, now it roared under the bridge like rapids and the bride didn't look all that secure. "We have to cross that?"

"Afraid so, there's another way in, but its ten miles up the main road and another five to the house. So, all I can say is close your eyes and hang on."

He gunned the car and it seemed to fly over the bridge. Even as they made it to the other side, a sound told Dusti that his worse fear had happened. He stopped the car, and they both turned to see the bridge being swept away by the force of the water. "Oh my God..." She let out a breath as she spoke. "That was close..."

"Too close for me, come on, I need a drink after that."

Dusti found she agreed with him.

* * *

The house was all he told her, and as they came in, two old women appeared. "Mr. Nick, we wondered what had happened to you, your grandmother barely slept for worry."

"Car trouble, Emma take her and get a hot drink down her, will you, we had a bad scare at the river. The bridge gave way."

Both women gasped in unison. "Oh, miss, of course, how frightening for you. And this awful storm." One took her jacket while the other began to lead her to another room. She looked back at him and he smiled softly.

"Go with Emma, she'll give you a hot cup of tea and then show you to your room. I'll see you when you wake up later." When she hesitated, he mouthed the words. "It's okay, you're safe now."

The woman named Emma took her to a kitchen that was something out of a Jane Austen novel. She sat her table that looked as old as the stone fireplace and soon had tea and toast for her. Dusti felt her tummy rumble and both the tea and food had her feeling much better. Emma in the mean time scurried around the kitchen, preparing a breakfast tray, and disappearing only long enough to take it to someone else in the house. From the lightness of the meal, Dusti guessed it was for his grandmother.

As she refilled the cup, Emma looked at her. "Now, would you like something more substantial or would you rather go to your room and get some sleep?"

She considered the question. The toast had been enough to settle her stomach and the tea had warmed her to a state of needing sleep. "Bed, please."

Emma took her upstairs and pointed out the three doors. "This one to the left is a spare room we keep for guests, and the center one leads to Mr. Nick's room. No one goes in there unless invited. The door here on the right is the other guest room. Mr. Nick thought you might enjoy the sunset more then the sunrise."

He was right. It would also make her feel closer to home. The room its self was huge, with a massive bed and windows that looked down over a rain soaked flower garden. The storm still raged, but even the thunder was muted here, and she noticed that he had brought her bags up.

"Should I unpack for you while you change for bed?" Emma opened a door that showed a full equipped bathroom with a roman style tub and glass enclosed shower. It had another door that told Dusti it connected with his bedroom as well. "Or would you like me to prepare you a bath before you go to sleep."

"Hmm, just the bed Emma, I am exhausted. I hate storms."

"Then I'll leave you to your dreams miss, may they all be pleasant." She left and Dusti began to strip off her clothes, even too tired to look for a night shirt, she simply slid into bed in just her underwear and as the warmth spread over her, she slept, and as it turned out, her dreams were pleasant.

* * *

Nicholas Clairbourne sat back in his desk chair and looked at the computer screen in front of him. He was still thinking of the night's events and he decided that the only decent thing to happen was meeting Dusti at last. Even his grandmother reading him the riot act for making her worry was nothing to the memory of being in the car with Dusti. God, he had been horny before he ever got to the depot, but the drive home had made him even more so. It would have helped if he had been able to spend a few quiet moments with Mary in the store room of the pub, but it had been too crowded to allow for more then a fast blow job once the customers left. The feisty redhead had a wonderful mouth, but damn he was in need of more. The last time he had actually fucked a woman had been over a year ago during a trip to New York to meet with his editor and publisher. Even now, he was throbbing in his pants and the cold shower hadn't helped a bit.

Damn if she wasn't everything he had been led to expect. Tall, full figured and not your ordinary every day teenager. He bet she had never even had a man inside her yet. Well, that would change, he wanted her and he was going to have her as soon as he could get it. The bridge going out was even better luck, she would be here longer then planned, and it would give them more time to be together. She might even decide she liked it here and want to stay on. God, that would be a dream come true, one he intended to make happen.

Of course his grandmother was delighted to hear of the bridge becoming a casualty to the storm as well. It was her fondest wish, and that of Dusti's, that their grandchildren meet and fall in love. He wondered if she knew she had been set up. That he had seen pictures of her sisters and discarded them all. They were like all women he knew, and he had no intention of making that same mistake again. No, he would give in to his natural preference and wait for the soft, full body of the little girl he had seen grow up in pictures.

A soft cry caught his attention and he followed it to its source. Dusti was lying in bed, thrashing around and crying. He knew about the night mares and what had been done to her, so he moved slowly. Even as he watched, she kicked the blankets away and revealed her long body dressed in only a pair of skimpy, black silk underwear and a clinging black camisole. Her nipples pushed against the material and he could see the outline of her pussy against the crotch of the panties. His cock lurched and he swallowed hard.

Oh Lord, she was perfect. Long, well shaped legs and soft flaring hips that connected with a body that was long and her waist tucked in to widen again as it went to her chest. Full, almost melon sized breasts with nipples the size of grapes and a long neck that was attached to a heart shaped face, with full lush lips, a well shaped nose and cheekbones. She had exotic shaped eyes and long dark lashes. But his favorite feature was the way her long black hair splayed out from her head like a dark halo. Hers was a softer black then his and he knew she had bright emerald green eyes below those still painted eye lids.

He licked his lips and saw that even in the throes of a nightmare, she moved with a complete sexuality that would drive most men to ignore the fact she was asleep. Most men would be simply opening her legs and shoving aside her panties while they shoved his cock deep inside of her and worry about the consequences later. For a moment he was tempted, but instead he sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to shake her shoulder softly. "Dusti, wake up, you're having a nightmare. Dusti, can you hear me, wake up."

She came awake suddenly, disoriented but clutching at him as memory flooded back to her still groggy brain. As if working independent of his brain, his arms surrounded her and held her tight until she became totally aware of what was happening. Not that she made any attempt to move away from him. If anything she clung tighter. "I...I had a nightmare."

"So I thought. I heard you cry out. Its okay Dusti, you're safe here. No one will hurt you." No one but him when he took her the first time and he was sure he could do it with a minimum of pain on her part.

To his surprise, she lifted her head and kissed him suddenly. That had never happened to him before. Most times he had to be the aggressor. The feel of her lips made him want more and as he ran the tip of his tongue along the line, she parted her lips willingly. Was she still asleep, did she know what she was doing to him? Did he care? He ran his hand over her back and up into her hair. At the same time, her arms snaked up around his neck. When he finally drew back, he swallowed hard.

"I won't say I'm sorry you did that, just rather surprised."

She smiled shyly. "So am I, but I'm not sorry either. I just felt you holding me and it felt like the right thing to do."

"Oh, I agree one hundred percent, and feel free to kiss me anytime you like. I totally enjoyed it."

"Anytime?" She licked her lips. "Anytime at all?"

He nodded. "Anytime at all. Right now would be nice in fact."

She did it again and this time he took control from the start. Nick knew that if he wasn't so sexually deprived right now he might have taken it slower, but the feel and smell of her woman scent was enough to make him even harder then he had been. He moved over her as she laid back and she looked at him with a fire in her eyes.

"I don't usually...hell, I've never done this. But I can't stop myself. I guess it's my hormones reacting to the storm and the water and the bridge and all."

He kissed her throat and ran his hand down to the hem of the camisole. "Then let them react, I hope they're raging as hot and hard as mine are." His fingers moved over her breasts and he began to squeeze the soft mound slowly at first. As her nipple hardened against his palm, he increased the pressure and she moaned. "Oh yes, so nice, but aren't you afraid I might take advantage of you?"

His words made her giggle softly. "Uh, incase you hadn't noticed, I'm the one with a vise like grip around your neck and that is my pussy your cock is pressing against. In American vocabulary, I want you to fuck me Nick, I want you to break my cherry and spend the day fucking my tight little pussy. I am hot for you and I get the impression you feel the same way."

Nick chuckled himself. "Oh I feel the same way, have since I saw you at the station. I do love a full bodied woman with a hot cunt and big delicious tits. You seem to have both. I am over dressed though, don't you think."

"Oh I agree completely."

* * *

He moved off her and Dusti moved over to give him room once he came back to the bed. She had no idea what was happening to her, all she knew that for the first time in her life, she was hot for a man that she felt she might erupt into a ball of fire if he didn't do something to cool her down. Where was the shy, timid little girl that she had been so long? She barely knew the man, but if he didn't fuck her pretty soon, she was going to go crazy. And the idea he wanted it as bad as she did, well that made it all the better.