The wheels on the Jaguar convertible squeal as you power through a tight curve in the road. The warm English air is rushing past your ears with a howl and down either side of the road the tall trees meld into a blurry green wall.
Lara Croft is sitting in the passenger seat, long auburn hair is in a state of panic, blowing across her face and flowing over the headrest. Occasionally a bit of it gets caught in a stray eddy of air and it floats over to you, tickling the tip of your left ear. Driving on the other side of the road isn't hard for you, but the car is small and Lara's fierce beauty is distracting.
She had changed clothes while en route in the plane. A fine black leather pea-coat with large white buttons opened wide over a tight white button up blouse. The blouses top three buttons are free from their eyelets and the starched fabric flaps open in the wind, exposing the soft valley of her cleavage. She had donned a pair of expensive looking black slacks that stretched across her thighs and ass like a tattoo and polished the outfit off with a pair of stiletto heeled leather boots that zipped up her calf underneath the flare of her pant legs. You watched her zip them up just before the plane touched down in Heathrow and couldn't help but become aroused. Smooth golden skin disappearing behind shiny black leather. With the pant legs down no one else could tell but you know they are the kinds of boots sex-kink whores wear on payday.
She's staring ahead now, eyes half closed. Her hand is in your lap, her nails absently caressing you. She probably doesn't even know she's doing it; it must be automatic to her, like petting a cat. You look at her and notice she has an expression of a woman whose mind is on something distant and intriguing
"Is is much further?" You ask, touching the back of her hand gently. She snaps out of her trance, looking around then at you.
"Three more kilometers then take the right hand turn, love," she says.
Aside from a little bit of kissing and caressing nothing physical happened on the plane. She hadn't been cold towards you, but she defiantly wasn't the sex crazed cum whore you aroused at the opera house. Even though she had been physically close, curled up under your arm with a long stemmed champagne glass between her fingers, she still seemed distant. You think maybe she had started to re-think her decisions. Maybe she was regretting getting caught up in the moment at the Opera House.
The three kilometers blur by and soon you are turning into a tidy looking private road. Large white and black signs warn you that a steep road is ahead and soon you have to slow the Jag down to navigate up the side of a mountain. Lara continues to look pensive, swaying side to side in her seat as you take the corners. Her silence makes you nervous, perhaps even a little bit timid.
"Are you okay, Lara?" you finally ask when the road straitens out a little bit.
"Oh?" Lara blinks and turns her full-bodied lips up into a smile, "I'm sorry, love. I was just thinking that I forgot to do something. For the life of me I can't remember what it was. Do you ever get that feeling?"
"Yes."
Lara nods absently, looking down to where her hand had slipped between your thighs. If you had not been wearing pants she would most likely have her wrist draped across your cock, but the confining nature of your slacks has corralled your hard-on down the opposite leg. "Oh my," she chuckles, "I really must pay attention!"
You laugh.
She doesn't bother moving her hand.
"This is the last leg of the journey," Lara nods ahead to where a tall grey-brick wall sprouts out of the English countryside.
You slow the car down as you near the huge wrought iron gate, marveling at the texture and detail of the iron-work. Huge elaborate lions are battling each other amid a field of flowers and celestial bodies. It was detailed enough to be considered a work of art amongst most circles and you guessed it would appraise somewhere in the six figures.
Past the gate and down a cobble stone road lays the mansion. You'd seen the mansion in various magazines before but in person it was insurmountably magnificent.
As you drive to the square at the front of the mansion you get a sense of omnipotence and opulence. To your right a pair of tall black steeds' stamp their feet behind wooden fences, aching to be ran until their perfect black hides begin to foam. To your left the grounds have been groomed and cultivated into a massive garden with perhaps more color than an English garden should have.
"Just park it here; I'll have someone bring it around to the garage later." Lara tells you as you pull up to the front steps. She looks up at the great oak door and lets out a long satisfied sigh.
"What?" you ask with a smile.
"We're finally here," she says, squeezing your thigh, "It's almost time for you to thank me properly for the fun in the opera house."
You don't miss a beat, turning off the engine, get out of the car, open her door and offer you her hand.
She giggles at the rush in your step and kisses you on the lips as she stands, "Let me just clear the house of the help then we can get comfortable."
She lets go of your hand and struts up the steps and you silently morn that the tails of her pea-coat hide the tantalizing sway of her ass. You catch up to her in two easy strides and she gives you a sideways look as she pushes open the door.
"Eager boy, aren't you?"
That accent is so sexy...
Inside the foyer a fainéant Great Dane with a thick white collar barely manages to raise its eyes at you two.
"That's Jeffrey," Lara says, "I have never seen him move in a very long time."
"He's picked a good spot," you observe. Jeffrey has perched himself on one of the softest looking rugs you have ever seen. The dog gave the impression that this estate wasn't just a beautiful mansion (the kind thought of as artistic rather than functional) but also a well used home.
Lara gave Jeffrey a poke with her toe as she walked towards one of the wing doors, "Came 'ome one day and went arse over kettle because he was lay'n there all askew with his knobby legs splayed out." Lara sheds her coat and tosses it on a chair back.
"Really?" You mutter.
Lara takes your hand and leads you through an archway to the great room. Aside from her you don't see anyone else. Lara notices this too and wonders aloud where everyone could be. You're too busy trying to figure out which door leads to the master suite to speculate an answer. Warm sunlight filters in from the vaulted glass ceiling, bathing Lara in a somewhat aqua radiance. Her hair sparkles, the tips of her polished boots gleam in ultra-high definition...and her nipples are beginning to stiffen under that thin white blouse.
"Don't worry," you say, gathering her waist in your arms and pulling her tight.
You kiss her with a solid force of lips and tongue. It's overpowering, energizing and arousing like a shot of adrenaline. Every ounce of your passion and hunger is conveyed in that kiss and Lara is overcome.
She collapses in your arms, pressing her bosom hard into your chest. She breathes hard between each forceful kiss, filling your nostrils with hot breath. Her scent wafts up to you from her hair and neck. Even without a shower and several hours on a plane she smells fucking phenomenal.
"This way," she says with a breathless gasp, pulling you along, "I didn't know you could kiss like that," she touches her lip, "I expected to be bloody but look," she holds out her fingers for your inspection, "Nothing!"
"Would you like to bleed, Lady Croft?" You ask with a devious smile. She doesn't respond, but her eyes betray a hidden secret.
The look is enough to get you wondering what kind of fantasizes and fetishes a woman as refined and feminine as Lara could have. The boots she is wearing was a good start for you...was she into leather? Whips and chains? A woman as self-aware as Lara would certainly like to be in control, wouldn't she? But in the opera house you had seen the way her eyes warmed submissively. She hadn't asked for any reciprocation after slurping down your cum...what did that mean?
You take a right and a left and down a long and ornately decorated hallway, arriving at long last in her bedroom. Behind the large oak door is a circular sitting room with a couple white leather sofas and a large glass topped coffee table. The entire room is surreally lit by the floor to ceiling windows lining half the room. It is unavoidably decadent in the room but at the same time very natural and comforting. You don't fear leaving a cum-stain on the rug or tearing down a curtain in the heat of passion.
"Well, darling," Lara closes the door behind you. She holds the door knob behind the small of her back and deftly clicks the dead bolt into the jam without looking. She stands there, arms tucked behind her back; chest thrust forward, nipples still erupting from her blouse from the kiss in the great room. "We've finally made it."
"It felt like an eternity," you smile, sliding up against her. Her mouth opens and your lips brush in a sort of sexual half-kiss. It's a chorus of teasing, tantalizing and tender and it makes her giggle.
"I've raided tombs easier than this," she moans, craning her neck forward to capture your lips and tongue. She succeeds and you collapse into her with the passionate force of a man possessed. Your hand presses firmly up against her ribs to hold her to the door and your other hand cradles the soft mass of her breast. It feels too large in your palm; the nipple feels wonderful between your fingers. She is aroused; you can feel it in her body and her kiss. She is ready for you to take control.
Without breaking the stride of your kissing you smoothly slide both your hands up under her blouse and break all the buttons. The front of the shirt explodes open, revealing the curvaceous nature of her breasts, restrained by a simple black bra. The material is sheer and smooth as the rest of her skin and in a moment you've worked the clasps and helped her tear it from her shoulders. The great mass of her breasts swing free, the deep valley of her cleavage shifting and meshing as you press your chest into hers.
Even in the tight space between your bodies she manages to get your belt buckle loose and pushes your pants down around your ankles. She thrusts her hips into your wood, sending sloppy spurts of pleasure through your body.
She's panting now, her pants are loosened but they are so tight they need help to get over the supple curve of her butt. She doesn't seem concerned with that task just yet though. Her hands are too busy groping the musculature of your ass and lower back. She's moaning lightly, just enough to give you verbal approval of your actions but not enough to sound like a porn star.
You break from her mouth with a devilish smile. You thrust your hips forward, trapping her against the door.
"You stay right there, Lara. I need to get my shirt off.
"Please do," she purrs, gliding her palms across your chest and abs, "I can't wait to see what you look like."
Your eyebrow raises and you decide to make a small show of the task. You lift the hem of your shirt; exposing the bottom rung of your abs...she mocks a gasp and smiles, dragging her nails across your belly button.
"More!" She demands.
You oblige, lifting the shirt to the level of your nipples. Her fingers trace the sculpted curve of your pectorals and the smile on her lips grows wilder.
"I'm a sucker for a strong chest," she says just before leaning over to suck on your nipples. Her strong lips clasp over your dark nubs and she gently nibbles on them with a ferocious smile. You love the way her nose crinkles when she bares her teeth, it reminds you of a cougar and a kitten all at the same time. As she passes from one nipple to the other you catch her by the throat and slam her head back into the door.
Her eyes flare wide with a stunned look as her head smacks against the door; she looks ready wrestle you to the ground and punch your nuts until you bleed. But when you kiss her firmly on the mouth she softens in your grasp.
You know your mild display of dominance has gotten her adrenaline flowing, you can practically hear her deadly body humming with the promise of action.
Instead of killing you, however, she pours more passion into you and quickly your shirt is torn off and tossed aside.
"Let me loose for a moment, lover," Lara pleads, pushing on your chest, "I want to get these pants and boots off."
