Lara Croft Blows Teen Servant

Hannah was an alluring 23-year-old Instagram model from America, who had recently moved to the UK. She had made quite a name for herself online - thanks to her penchant for slutty behavior. The blonde babe expressed her rebellious nature with the tattoos that decorated her fit body. That day she felt particularly daring with her outfit - she wasn't planning on leaving the house anyway. Her voluptuous tits spilled out of her red strappy bra. Her perfectly round ass was barely contained by the g-string thong she had chosen to wear. Her tiny waist that cinched in just above her hips was the envy of women. Her innocent Kentucky girl background had been augmented with a mischievous spark in her eyes. Despite her ditzy aura, she knew exactly what she was doing and loved every second of it.

Her days were filled with photoshoots and doing squats, her nights spent clubbing in London, but there was one thing missing in her life -- the thrill of the unexpected, the game of romance. Little did she know that her neighbor, the older and enigmatic butler, Alister J. Bach, would soon provide her with that thrill.

Alister was middle aged - and had raised his Master, Lara. Orphaned at a young age, she had inherited a vast fortune from her globe-trotting, tomb-raiding ancestors. Her countryside estate was a sanctuary for the adventurous soul that she was. Those who knew her described her as highly intelligent with a snarky sense of humor. She was just as notorious for her wealth as she was for her beauty. Despite being the talk of the conservative English town, she remained elusive. Often disappearing for months at a time, only to return with new artifacts and an air of superiority

Hannah and Alister's paths had crossed a few times before -- a nod in passing, a curious glance over the hedge -- but today was different. The sun was starting to set, casting an whimsical glow over the lush garden that separated their properties. Hannah decided to take a stroll. She knew that someone was home. A sleek black supercar could be seen parking in the drive earlier. Her nearly naked body was caressed by the warmth of the summer day. Blooming flowers aerated her lungs as she made her way towards the ancient stone wall that surrounded the Croft Estate.

Approaching the wall, she noticed an old wooden ladder leaning against it. The mischievous spirit told her to climb it. She couldn't resist the temptation. Hannah had always been the curious type. She was dying to get a peek at the mysterious life of her neighbors. She scaled the ladder with the grace of a cat. Her heart raced with excitement. With her forearms resting on the stones she took in the sight of the sprawling property. The fairytale like manor, with its Caribbean blue pools and mazed hedges, was too good to miss.

The figure lounging by the water was what truly captured her curiosity. Alister was shirtless with his defined abs glistening. The breeze cooled the moisture from his swim. He was wearing only a pair of low-slung board shorts. It did little to conceal the outline of his substantial manhood. He had a cocky smirk on his face. It was clear he had heard her approach.

"Lost, are we?" he did not bother to hide his amusement.

Hannah blushed. She'd been caught red-handed. "Just admiring the view," she quipped back - deciding to play it cool.

Alister's smirk grew wider as he gestured at her. "Well, then, come on over and make yourself at home. I'm sure you'll find plenty more to admire around here."

Hesitating for only a moment, Hannah athletically crossed over into his domain. She swayed towards him, like a model on a catwalk, her towering high heels clicked on the cobblestone path. She knew she was stoking the fire, but she couldn't resist the heat.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss America?" he asked before sipping his drink.

"I just wanted to get to know my neighbor a bit better," her voice dripped with innuendo.

He raised an eyebrow as he set his drink aside. "Is that so?" He took a step closer while his eyes strafed over her body in a way that made her shudder. "I can see why you're so popular on the internet. You're quite the sight to behold in person."

Hannah felt a rush of passion at his frank appraisal. She licked her full lips and took a step closer. "You're not so bad yourself, neighbor."

The air grew thick with tension as they circled each other. Their eyes locked in a silent dance. Finally Alister reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. His touch was gentle, but sinful.

"Alister Bach, servant to Mistress Croft, at your command" he kissed her manicured hand.

His English manners pleased Hannah. She loved how refined and gentlemanly the experienced man seemed.

"Why don't we go inside?" he suggested in a low and seductive voice. "I've got something that might interest you."

Her curiosity was piqued. She followed him into the grand manor. It was like stepping into a museum filled with artifacts. They made their way to a dimly lit study, where he opened a hidden compartment in the wall. Inside it there was a collection of ancient relics, each one was more intriguing than the last.

"Pick one," he said, his eyes never leaving hers.

Hannah's hands trembled as she reached for a small, intricately carved box. Touching it, she felt a strange energy. It pulsated through her fingers, up her arms and into her breasts. Alister took it from her and opened it, revealing an intricately molded gleaming gold collar, inlayed with precious stones.

"This is an ancient artifact from a ruined temple Miss Croft's father raided in Egypt," he explained, his voice thick with desire. "It's said to bind the wearer to the will of the one who holds the key. The King of the Nile gifted it to his betrothed as a symbol of his love and power over her. Sounds very romantic, does it not?"

Her heart racing, Hannah nodded. She was unable to find the words to respond. Alister stepped closer. The heat of his body warmed her. He placed the collar around her neck, clasping it locked with the key he wore on a necklace. Hannah gasped as the cold metal made contact with her skin. She didn't dare protest. The gold artifact made her feel submissive; like an Egyptian princess - he was her Pharaoh. She felt afraid, yet excited.

"You're mine now," he said, reminding himself as if he didn't believe it. His strong hands gripped her upper arm. "Mine to use and enjoy as I please."

Before she could respond he led her to the couch. His hand was firm on the small of her back. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap. Her white g-string thong was tight over her wet pussy. He reached up and cupped her breast, he felt the weight of it in his hand.

"Fuck, you're so hot," he cooed as he flicked her pink nipple.

Hannah arched her back. She pushed her chest closer to his hungry mouth. He took the hint and leaned in, taking her nipple between his teeth. He gave it a gentle tug. She moaned. Her body responded to his touch.

His hand slid down her stomach to her pussy. He began to stroke her clit through the thin fabric of her thong. She was so wet. She knew he could feel it. She wriggled against him as she whimpered for more.

He smiled wickedly as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her thong and pulled it down her legs. He tossed it aside and spread her thighs. Her glistening pussy was revealed to his eager hands. He leaned in and kissed her, his tongue exploring her mouth as his hand continued to work her clit.

Hannah's moans grew louder. Her hips bucked against his touch. She could feel an orgasm building, and she was desperate to reach it. But Alister had other plans. He slid two fingers inside her, pumping them in and out with a skill that took her breath away.

"Sir, please," she begged.

He chuckled darkly. "Please what?"

"Make me cum," she pleaded. Her eyes glazed over with lust.

A few hours later a pair of circular headlights shone onto the Jacobean style mansion, with it's refined grounds, ornate exterior and lavish finishes. Moonlight glittered on the bonnet of a 1960s sports car gliding towards the house; the sensual legs of a woman in high heels stepped out onto the brown pebble drive. The woman's piercing blue-green eyes were tired and tinged with red, her body weak after a long trip in her private jet. Her footsteps echoed throughout the dark foyer, her elegant hands dropped a bag containing a treasure onto the table near the grand staircase. The prize briefly gleamed with a blue light as it adjusted to its new environs. Without a concern, the lady's hips swayed sensually in her tight black dress as she retired to the Master bedroom for the night.

*****

The next morning, Lara Croft was awakened by her loyal butler Alister. He offered her a cup of coffee and gave her her exercise outfit: a tank top and leggings.

"Madam. I need to tell you something..." Alister began.

"I know; I need to find a new gardener because the old one retired. I'll do it later." Lara said dismissing him.

"No, Miss, that's not it.." Alister tried.

"Not now. I need to do my workout." Lara said turning on her music that began to play throughout the halls. She made her way to the gym, unaware of a guest sleeping in her house.

The grand staircase watched over her as she descended, the treasure from the previous night resting in the darkness below. It was a curious artifact, one that had drawn her from her quiet solitude in the mansion to the dense jungles of South East Asia. It was not gold or jewels that gleamed from within the bag, but an ancient stone idol.

Lara did her daily workout routine. The house music filled the gym with a rhythmic pulse that seemed to resonate with the very essence of Lara Croft. As she squatted up and down, her body became a symphony of grace and power. Each motion was a deliberate and sensual dance. Her muscles flexed and stretched beneath her tight-fitting attire as the fabric clung to her curves. The freshly tanned skin or her midriff and chest glistened in the light of the rising sun. The walls of the gym were lined with weapons and trophies of past conquests, serving as silent declarations of her passion for archeology. Each item was a symbol of the physical feats she had achieved and the mysteries she had solved. As she placed down the barbell, Lara's eyes caught the glint of a dagger mounted on the wall, a relic from a past escapade. The memories of its acquisition sent shivers down her spine.

Lara turned off the song as she wiped the sweat from her brow. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door opening. The music had awakened someone.

*****

The kitchen was a sight to behold. The gleaming marble countertops and top-of-the-line appliances looked as if they'd never been used. The room was bathed in a warm, golden light that spilled in through the windows. Shadows danced across the gleaming surfaces. It was here that Lara found the intruder. A young blonde bimbo with tattoos and painted nails stood there. She looked as if she'd just stepped out of a Playboy photoshoot. The contrast was stark, Hannah's thick, voluptuous figure, clad in nothing but a skimpy lingerie set, stood out against Lara's more conservative leggings.

Alister looked absolutely flustered. His hair stuck up in every direction. He was clearly trying to compose himself, tugging at the waistband of his trousers and straightening his bow tie as he sputtered out an explanation. "Miss Croft, I assure you, this is all a misunderstanding. Hannah is a... a guest, you see."

Lara's eyebrow arched in disbelief as she took in the scene before her. "A guest? In my house?"

Hannah giggled coyly, batting her long, fake lashes at Lara. "Hi, I'm Hannah," she purred. Her Southern drawl was thick and sugary. "Alister said I should spend the night. I'm new to the area; I live next door."

Lara's eyes narrowed. "Alister, I think we need to have a little chat."

With a sigh of defeat, Alister led Lara into the library, leaving Hannah to continue her breakfast of pancakes and bacon. The butler closed the heavy oak door behind them, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. "Miss Croft, I can explain," he began.

"Explain what?" Lara's arms were crossed over her chest, pushing her breasts up, "Why is there a half-dressed stranger in my kitchen?"

"Well," Alister coughed nervously, "You see, we formally met late last night, by the pool. I decided to give her a tour of the house, and I thought you wouldn't mind. And then one thing led to another and we shared my bed for the night."

Lara's gaze was unrelenting. "And why is she dressed like that?"

"Ah, well," Alister stuttered, "It seems she has a bit of a personality problem. I offered her something more... appropriate, but she said she was more comfortable in that."

The adventurous archeologist rolled her eyes. "Fine. But she's leaving today. I don't have time for this."

As they talked, the sound of Hannah's giggles echoed down the hall, growing louder as the blonde model strutted into the library. Her generous breasts spilled out of her lacy bra, and the tiny thong she wore barely covered her.

Lara Croft, the 26-year-old heiress emerged from the steamy embrace of her luxurious shower. Her body glistened with droplets of water that clung to her tanned skin. The stately bathroom echoed with the soft drips of water against marble as she stepped out. Her bare feet left a trail on the heated floor. Her raven hair slung water down the crack of her ass. Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint.

Alister couldn't help but gape at the vision before him. Lara's huge tits, unfettered by the constraints of a modest towel, jiggled slightly with her every movement, their nipples standing at attention like tiny pink sentinels. Her toned stomach, flat from years of exploration, led down to her hips, curving out into a delightful ass that seemed to defy physics. Her muscular legs were adorned with just enough water to make them shimmer in the soft light that danced through the windows.

"Alister," she said in a playful yet authoritative voice, "I need you to get me a towel."

The butler had seen much in his service but never anything as breathtaking as the full glory of his employer's nudity. He fumbled with the plush fabric he held in his trembling hands. His eyes remained glued to the mesmerizing display of flesh and water that was Lara. His thoughts were a whirlwind of lust. He took a tentative step forward. His gaze never left the sway of her breasts as they moved in time with her breathing.

"Here, Miss Croft," he croaked. He extended the towel with a shiver of arousal.

Lara took the towel from him with a knowing smile. Her eyes flicked down to the growing bulge in his pants. She dismissed him with a snap of her wrist. She began to dry herself with the soft fabric; her hands moved in slow. Her creamy, bare skin looked perfect. The towel barely covered the expanse of her chest. Alister got a tantalizing view of her side-boob as she bent to wipe the water from her legs. Her hands moved up; she traced the curves of her hips and the indentation of her tiny waist.

"Lara," he began, his voice strained, "You really should be more... modest."

"Modest?" she scoffed. She tossed the towel aside. "Why should I bother hiding what I've worked so hard to maintain?" She turned to face him. "Besides, it's not like you haven't seen it all before, Alister. You were my childhood guardian after my father was killed."

The butler's cheeks flushed a deep crimson at the remark, his arousal battling with the ingrained respect he had for his job. He swallowed hard, his eyes traveling over the landscape of her body once more before he forced them up to meet hers.

"You're right, Miss Croft," he conceded, "but times have changed, and it's not seemly for me to ogle you so."

"Ogle?" she repeated with a laugh. "You've always had the best manners, Alister. But I'm not just anyone, am I?"

With that, she turned back to her wardrobe. Her ass cheeks flexed as she did so. She pulled out a scrap of black lace that barely qualified as a thong. She stepped into it with the grace of a dancer. Her shaven pussy glistened with water; it was barely concealed by the flimsy material. She pulled up the thong over her wide hips. An elastic snap echoed through the room. The sensation left a trail of goosebumps on her skin.

Alister couldn't tear his eyes away as she reached for her bra, a matching set that was more about flaunting than covering. The cups were thick and sturdy, meant to support the bountiful titty meat. The bra pushed them up to create a mesmerizing cleavage. She slid the straps over her shoulders then secured the back with a flick of her fingers.

"Now, this is what I call comfortable," she murmured to herself. She admired her reflection in the mirror. She picked up a silk kimono in a fiery shade of red; then wrapped it around her body with ease. The material was so fine that it was almost transparent. The mischievous woman had revealed the outline of her figure.

"Anyway, as I told you on the phone earlier, I'm not planning on having children of my own." Lara said.

"Lara, I don't mean to pry but why do you insist on discussing such matters with me?"

"Because you're the only one around to talk to, darling," she turned to face him. The kimono parted slightly. Her hard nipples peaked out into the cold air "And let's face it, you're the closest thing I have to a father."

She padded over to the chaise lounge, her breasts jiggled with every step. She sat down with a sigh. She crossed her legs, leaned back and exposed her thigh that begged to be caressed.

"Men are such a nuisance. They're always trying to get their hands on what isn't theirs. And children? The very thought of pushing something out of this," she gestured to her pussy, "makes me cringe. I have my adventures, my artifacts, and my fortune. What more could I possibly need?"

Alister took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "Miss Croft, you're young and beautiful. Surely there's someone out there who could make you happy - someone who would respect your wishes and support your endeavors."

Lara's eyes narrowed. She leaned forward and the silk of her kimono slipped further open to reveal the tops of her breasts. "Respect? That's all well and good, Alister, but I've had my fill of men who say they respect me, only to try and bed me or marry me for my fortune. I've had enough of their empty promises and pathetic attempts to control me."

Her hand trailed down her neck; her fingers played with the edge of the kimono. The fabric parted further. Alister's eyes grew wide at the sight of her wet pussy. It sparkled with the promise of unexplored territory. He felt his cock throb in his pants. It was a traitor to his reputation of propriety.

"Besides," her voice a sultry whisper, "I've found that my own hand is more reliable than any man's."

With that, she spread her legs. Her fingers slipped beneath the fabric to stroke her clit with a practiced ease. Alister's knees threatened to buckle. Transfixed, he watched as she began to masturbate. Her hips rocked gently against her hand. The sight was almost too much to bear. He felt his dick straining painfully against the confines of his trousers.

"You see," she said staring into his wide eyes, "I know what I want, and I'm not about to let some man dictate my life. I'm going to do as I please, when I please."

"And Alister, I know it's breakfast time, but these titties don't have any milk," she lifted her breasts up with her hands, jiggling them for emphasis.

Alister walked out, stunned into silence by the indecency.

*****

The village square bustled with activity as Lara slammed the scissor door of her supercar. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted from the bakery mingling with the aroma of coffee from the café. She sauntered past the Tesco, the car park, and the empty old church. Her eyes scanned the sparse crowd for any hint of trouble or adventure. Her gaze was sharp, her stride confident, as if she owned every inch of the hamlet and all its inhabitants. Her deep cleavage and shapely hips drew the eyes of every male in the vicinity. She knew how it was. The women's eyes slipped between envy and admiration. Lara was used to the attention. It fueled her arrogance; she felt like a queen among peasants.