Laras Little Fan

Disclaimer: I do not own Tomb Raider or have rights to any of its characters. This story is for entertainment only and does not generate earnings.

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I was just a down on my luck teen looking to make a couple extra bucks. I kind of had a home life, but my parents didn't have a lot of money and spent too much of it on their shared drinking problem.

One of the ways that I tried to supplement myself for what my parents weren't giving me is through petty thievery and selling photos I took.

Which brings me to my current big idea, trying to snap some photos of resident hotty and megastar Lara Croft. Also my absolute favorite baddy with a body and not just because she lives in my neighborhood.

When you have money like Lara does, the world doesn't have street views of your house or property. She has a full brick wall around her place, wrapping all the way around except the main entrance, of course. I know something Lara doesn't seem to, though.

We had a nasty storm recently, with torrential rains and hurricane force winds. A lot of damage was done to the city, and some of that damage included making a decent sized hole in that security wall. It was just big enough that a thin, lanky kid like me could fit through it.

So there I was, with my trusty little 10 year old camera, snooping around on international badgirl Lara Croft's property, hoping to get something juicy that I could sell to my friends, maybe even to some kind of tabloid.

I had never been on her property, though I'd rode by it on my bike countless times, hoping to get a real view of my dream girl. Not knowing where I was going, I kept a low profile and tread carefully. This place was more like a golf course than a yard. You could fit half a neighborhood in there.

I followed the wall around and headed toward the back of her property, and found a good place to start. Her pool. I found some bushes and pushed my way into them. I wasn't ballsy enough to go into her actual mansion, but I did have so little going on that I could wait for even the chance to get a few pics of the British beauty.

And wait I did, for like three hours. I fell asleep in my little bush hideout, and woke up to the sound of classical music and light splashing!

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and peeked out of my foliage hideout. She was on the other end of the pool, and I had to wait until she got back to my half of the pool. I was too starstruck by her to act at first and take the actual picture.

By the time I remembered my actual assignment, Lara Croft had swam her laps and climbed up the ladder out of her pool, water cascading off of her perfect body, the light hitting her splendidly. God, I wanted her so bad. My 18 year old cock twitched in my pants.

Lara tiptoed along the edge of the pool and sat on the edge of a reclining beach chair, and languidly laid out her billion dollar body, and put on a pair of large sunglasses as she let the sun naturally dry her delectable frame for her.

I waited, having a feeling there would be a better show in a moment, though this was already worth my stakeout. I was rewarded handsomely when Lara was good and dry and reached for her suntan lotion.

I felt my mouth fill with saliva as I watched Lara Croft lather her flawless, muscular waxed legs, getting shiny and sleek with oil, right to the pantie line of her tiny triangle bikini bottoms. Her hands glided effortlessly over her tight, tanned tummy and over her ribs, around to her sides. She looked fucking delicious as she oiled up and made herself glisten and shine.

Once her front was perfectly oiled, I swallowed hard as she undid her bikini top strings and laid on her back, but didn't let the little fabric coverings show me her dusky pink nipples. I had seen the photos of her in a crystal no-imagination dress.

As she oiled her lower thighs, just under her ass with her knees bent, I remembered why she was there, and snapped my picture, her hands just on the crease of her juicy rump.

I heard the click of the button, and then I saw her freeze and look up, her head slowly rotating until she focused on the bushes. My bushes. I froze in realization... I left the fucking flash on!

Her jaw clenched, her dark eyebrows knit and she was off the chair like a puma, sprinting straight at me with an arm holding her bikini to her large chest, the other pumping furiously as she came in my direction like a trained sprinter, her thigh muscles shined and rippling as she propelled forward.

I took a gutsy move and snapped three more photos before I made a break for it back to my hole in the wall. I underestimated how fast this girl was with her extremely long legs and lack of hampering clothing...

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!" I chanted as I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, which wasn't as fast as Lara because she was gaining on me quick!

"Why are you so fast?" I lamented aloud as I neared my wall, but I felt a hand clamp down on my shoulder and pull back. It wasn't enough to knock me on my ass, but it interrupted my stride enough that I slipped, which sent me to a knee, allowing Lara to tackle me into the lush green grass.

"Give me the camera you fucking perv!" Lara demanded as she dragged her delectable body over mine, scrambling for the little red Nikon sill safely outstretched in my hand.

I tried to crawl away, but she was on top of me, a few inches taller and in far better physical strength. She had me caged and had me grounded, so I did the only thing I could think of to buy me wiggle room.

I used my hand not on the camera to start pulling on the thin spaghetti tie of her bikini bottoms. It didn't take long for the adventuress to feel my fingers at her hip and to try to fight it off with one hand, the other still firmly keeping her skimpy top in place.

"Stop that, you little brat!" she commanded as she tried swatting my hand away. "Just give me the bloody camera!" she growled, but didn't have a free arm to go for it.

"No, I need to sell these pictures!" I yelled without thinking about what just left my stupid mouth.

"By God you will not!" she argued indignantly, deciding that letting go of her top was a small price to pay for keeping her bottoms on and having a hand to fight for the camera.

As we struggled and wreathed, Lara's top slid down her perfect form and bunched around her belly. She was still laying prone on my back, so I couldn't see her, but I felt her big, firm tits on my back, her nipples hardening into points no doubt from the friction of grinding against my shirt.

Digging the balls of her feet into the grass, she pushed forward like a frog in water and slid over my back, the oil from her body and our starting-to-form sweat leaving me a bit damp as she finally got a hand on the camera.

We wrestled like this for a bit, me unable to keep her hand off of the Nikon and her unable to pry it from me. In a last move of desperation, she let go of our hand wrestling match to grab my camera with both hands, which allowed me to make quick work of her tie and slide my very recently matured hand over her glorious ass, copping a generous feel of the greatest flesh I had ever touched.

"You little bleeding animal!" she cried out in sheer anger, but managed to get the camera and scramble off of me. I knew damn well she could either cover her tits or keep her bottoms semi in place. Either way, I won a peep show at the expense of my camera and whatever legal ramifications I would face for this whole (mis)adventure.

With Lara's weight off of me as she stood upright, I rolled over onto my back to get a fading glimpse of her beautiful boobs as she held her arm over them in nearly a flash, and her hand holding her bottoms in place, the camera awkwardly placed against her hip. And her face... she looked like a gorgeous warrior queen, oiled, red faced and absolutely pissed. She just stood there, breathing hard and fuming, staring daggers and swords at me.

I just laid there on the ground, speechless, not sure what to say.

"Well what do you have to say for yourself, young man?" Lara barked, rightfully angry. "How did you get in here? Why are you here?"

"All fair questions," I said as I tried to pull my mind back inside my head and to get saliva to return to my cottonmouth. "There's a hole in your wall, made by the storm. It was just large enough I could worm through."

"Worm indeed," she glared, and waited for me to carry on.

"And well, I know you're Lara Croft, and that you obviously live here. And I thought the hole was my chance to sneak in, get some easy photos and get out to make some quick cash," I explained fully.

Lara shook her head and kept staring at me. "Obviously you are not getting this back. Further than deleting these pictures, you'd be a lucky boy if I didn't destroy your camera. And looking at your clothes, I'd wager you couldn't easily come up with another one," she said in her posh British accent. There was no more venum in that statement than in anything else she had said so far. While embarrassed, I took it as a verbal thought process and not overly personal.

"I certainly couldn't afford another one, or new clothes. It's hard out here and I get very little help from my parents, hence why I wanted to sell the photos," I said.

"Trying to win extortion photos through sympathy? I think not," she scoffed. "I should call the police and have you picked up for trespassing, property damage done to my lawn, and stalking or whatever else we can come up with," she threatened, switching between hip to hip as her stance wasn't comfortable over a long period, but she looked damn good in it.

"Please don't, Ms. Croft. I turned 18 just last week and they could try me as an adult!" I stammered, again all hope of a filter gone.

"Still in school, then?" she asked.

"Yes, final year," I confirmed. She just nodded, her bottom lip in her teeth. She looked so fucking sexy when in deep thought. I wanted to chew that lip for her.

"I can see how that could be ruinous for you, but I don't believe in 'boys will be boys.' There will be a consequence for this..."

"I... I could work for you! I could repair the storm damage and I could mend the grass we tore up in the chase and wrestle!" I suggested.

"I suppose I could let that cover the trespassing situation, but we still have the issue of these photos you tried to take and sell."

My heart dropped. I had no ideas left. "And I bet for those candids, you could collect near £2,000," she continued. I swallowed hard before she said, "But my estate is rather large, and I could use help in tidying among other work until you pay off what those photos would have gotten you..." She looked down at me expectantly.

"Agreed, I'll do the repairs, and do £2,000 worth of unpaid service," I said, lowering my head in defeat.

"We have ourselves a deal," she said. "I'd offer to shake your hand if my hands weren't busy," she scoured, knowing full well I was the reason for it. "Come with me," she ordered, turning on her heels, showing me her magnificent toned back and world famous ass, covered only in that little triangle of fabric. "I don't have material for you to fix the wall, but we can do a tour of the house."

"O-okay," I said, following her as she casually walked us around the side of her mansion, her hips naturally swaying as we went. I couldn't tell if she was overdoing it on purpose, or if it actually was natural.

"Sit your ass down and don't move," Lara ordered me, pointing to a pair of green felted arm chairs separated by a small coffee table. "I'm going to get dressed."

I sat there in the foyer, on that comfortable chair with my hands in my lap, waiting for Lara Croft, the woman with my virtual future in her hands. Not much later, she came back in a white tank top and a matching white tennis skirt. God she looked so cock hardeningly good.

"Right, so let's check out where I live and you'll be working until we agree you've hit £2,000," she said. "First things first, I need to delete those pictures."

I heard three quick beeps, meaning she had deleted my pictures, but her eyebrows rose. She found the rest of my folder. "Wow. So I see I'm not your first victim, just the first who caught you?"

I took a deep breath and decided to tell her the truth. She could turn me in at any time. "Yes. I print them off with a friend's digital printer and sell them around school. Your pictures would have been the only ones for tabloids, though," I said shyly.

"Well, Mr..." she searched, and then looked at me with her lips pressed together. "What the fuck is your name?"

"Uh... Semore, Semore Phelps," I said. "It's not a great name, I am aware."

"I didn't say anything," Lara said, shaking her head dismissively. She looked back at the camera and I heard more beeping.

"No, please stop! I haven't printed those out!" I said, launching out of my chair and trying to reach for my gold mine she was erasing. She stuck up a toned leg and caught me in the gut, stopping me.

"You're not making dimes by selling voyeur pictures of girls, Mr. Phelps," Lara told me pointedly. "Prove yourself useful and maybe I'll keep you around here, yeah?"

My eyes popped. "Actually?" I asked as she kept my camera, but waved me on to continue the tour.

"We'll see how it goes," she said, not wanting to get my hopes too high, it seemed. "Would you like to head home for the day and we can start anew Monday?"

"Uh... I can, I can start today. It's only what, 2 p.m.? I can start now," I offered.

Lara studied me for a moment and then placed a finger on her pouty lips. "Mr. Phelps, I get a feeling that you're not too interested in going back home."

I looked at the floor, the white tiles under our feet. "I could start here, with the tiles."

I saw her hand with flawless manicured nails enter my vision, and then felt her soft hand on my chin, tilting my head up to look at her. She just stared at me, waiting. I rolled my eyes and said, "I am not looking forward to going back home, no. My parents, father especially, drink heavily and are abusive. Not sexually, and they don't beat me, but in every other sense," I explained.

"Ah, so I see," Lara replied softly. "Well if that is the case and you have no homework to see to today, this foyer is a grand place to start. I have already shown you where the janitorials are. Come and search me out if you need anything. And stay out of my room," she said as she turned and went deeper into the mansion. "Perv," she said teasingly over her shoulder, and I caught a brief smile.

And so clean I did, mopping the tiles, using a hose attachment on the vacuum to clean the green felt chairs, polished the side table, cleaned the glass of the double doors that led to the outside world, and I vacuumed the massive area rug. I replaced one of the hall lights that was dimming.

By the time I was pleased with the foyer, Lara made another appearance, this time in black slacks with flared ankles that hugged her legs perfectly. They looked like some kind of modal or felt. She wore a pearl white silk blouse with no sleeves and a black, flour covered apron.

"Mr. Phelps..." she stopped mid sentence as she looked at my handiwork. "Well this was a job well done, young man," Lara said happily. "As I was about to say, I've finished making dinner."

"Well I'll see you later, Ms. Croft. Have a nice dinner," I said as I turned towards the door.

"Mr. Phelps, I was going to ask if you would join me. I can't eat a full Sicilian pizza on my own," she said with a smile. "It's homemade tapenade," she sang as if I wouldn't have already been sold.

I swallowed and without much hesitation, said "I would enjoy that." She smiled and motioned for me to follow.

"You did a fantastic job and you worked much longer than I expected without so much as a peep or a chirp," she praised. "You certainly are serious about our arrangement."

"I am, Ms. Croft. Working here is far more agreeable than having a record," I said.

"You're also quite well-spoken for an 18 year old pervert," she teased, looking over her shoulder with a smirk, catching my eyes on her magnificent ass, her bountiful cheeks lifted by her underwear and tight hugging pants.

"I'm poor, but I do read a lot. Not much money for watching things and games, so I use books to escape when I'm at home or school," I explained as we reached the dining room, the table already set for two. It was a large table, easily capable of seating 10 or more, but the two place settings were directly across from each other at the center of the table, a large Sicilian that smelled divine in the center, each seat having a glass of white wine and a small salad.

"Ms. Croft, this looks fantastic," I said, licking my lips. It could have been my imagination, but I swore I saw her eyes follow the path of my tongue.

"Thank you, Mr. Phelps. I'm not a chef myself, but I do quite enjoy cooking, and it's a way I can be sure of," she looked right in my eyes, "what I'm putting inside of my body."

I swallowed hard and looked away at the way her volume dropped and the tombre of her already cock hardening voice dropped. "Well it looks superb," I said as we each seated ourselves. I waited for her to seat herself before I sat, but I felt trying to seat her would be too many browning attempts.

She served me two slices of her pie and then served herself two as well. Before either of us touched our slices, she raised her wine glass, and I felt I should follow suit.

"To new arrangements and taking in strays," she said with a soft smile, her head slightly angled. I laughed quickly and nodded mine towards her before we each took a sip. I quietly hummed as the chilled, fruity smoothness touched my tongue. "Are you a fan of wine, Mr. Phelps?" a tinge of wonderment and surprise on her lips.

"I wouldn't say an expert, as I've only had my mum's boxed wine. There's really no way I could compare it to this. This is like drinking silver, and Mum's wine tastes like licking £3.00."

Lara laughed fully at that and covered her plump lips with the back of her hand. "Well I'm pleased it agrees with you so. I wonder what else would fall from those lips of yours after too many glasses," she teased with a little smirk before taking her first bite. "My lord, I do love a good slice of proper mozzarella," she hummed.

I took my first bite and groaned, my eyes rolling back a little, and I heard Lara laugh again. "Please don't get me hooked on this just for it to be torn away," I said with a chuckle, but the air stiffened and felt tense as neither of us moved for a moment, the weight of my thoughtless words falling onto the table.

After a moment, Lara took a little nibble, then a sip, and looked at me quizzically. "Mr. Phelps, you must tell me about yourself. You seem to be more than an enigma than I ever could have pegged you as but five hours ago."

I sighed and took another sip of wine before responding, "I'm truly terrible at discussing myself, I must warn you."

"Let's start here, at the way you speak. You said you read a lot, and I can see that, but do you always carry yourself at this level?"

I laughed and nibbled as I formulated my answer. "No," I said, sipped, and continued. "With my mates and my parents, I certainly don't. I do to a degree with my teachers, but never with such a... dinner party air." Lara laughed.

"So I bring out the dinner party guest in you then, hmm?" she teased.

"You do, and I quite like it. If I spoke like this at school, I'd surely be bullied and maybe even get in fights. I can handle arguments, but the kids at my school love to toss fists after they've run out of words," I explained.

I watched Lara's lips go from a pleased and warm smile to a frown. "I see." A short pause. "Why the pictures of girls, Mr. Phelps?"

This one I had to be careful with. "I like photography. I had a teacher when I was 13 or so that was very passionate about it, and he started the spark. But my camera, and my skills, aren't good enough for me to make money doing shoots or nature photography, especially since we're in London. So candid and voyeur shots of women it is... and they sell well to boys finishing primary school. If I want anything for myself, I pay for it with money from my pictures."