The Butler Did It

He looked down on her lying in bed. She was a beautiful sight to behold in only a short sleeve button-up shirt and bikini panties. He laid down beside her, leaning in to kiss those luscious lips. It was just as wonderful as he knew it would be. He slowly unbuttoned her shirt, but only exposed one breast so he could suck her nipple.

She liked that and responded by gently pumping her hips.

He spread her shirt so that both tits were in the open and caressed the one he had just kissed. He slid his hand down to her abdomen and she thrust her waist up to encourage him to slide his hand inside. But instead, as he kissed her other breast, he moved his hand over her panties and between her legs. She rubbed her pussy against his fingers, and he assisted by tickling her clit.

She responded with a moan.

He joined their lips again, and she twisted her lower body toward him. This enabled him to move his hand around to grab her ass. After fondling it for a few seconds, he dragged his fingers between her legs. He pulled her to sit up so he could remove her shirt completely. She did the same to him and leaned in to suck his nipple, which he found thrilling.

She didn't stop there, fumbling to undo his belt and pants, and then moving down to his feet to tug his trousers and underpants off. Pushing him supine, she straddled his thigh, rubbing her pussy on it. They kissed again briefly before she slid down, holding his cock up to mouth it. How delightful that was.

He was surprised that she took what she could of his shaft down her throat. He wouldn't have expected that of her. Then she let it fall against his abdomen and licked the length of it, causing him to shiver. With only the head between her lips, she ran her tongue around the rim, which again had him quivering.

But when she sucked his balls, he feared if he allowed her to continue, he would come too soon, so he rolled her onto her back to pull her panties off. And then, it was his turn to go down on her. He started by flicking his tongue on her clit, which had her moaning and whimpering. Dragging his tongue down, he spread her labia and dipped down to her perineum. She lifted her hips to encourage him to lick lower, so he took a swipe at her anus. She giggled, keeping her butt there so he would lick it more, but he returned to her labia and clit.

Seconds later, he dragged his tongue up from her clit to her naval, between her boobs and up for their lips to meet again. With this movement, his cock easily found her pussy and slid in with no assistance.

"Mmmm," she purred.

After a few thrusts, he pulled out and rubbed the length of his shaft between her legs. She pumped back, but just as quickly reached down and pressed it back inside her. He watched her tits jiggle as he fucked her. With her eyes closed, she only seemed to care about enjoying what he was doing to her.

She twisted onto her side forcing him to spoon-fuck her from behind. Wrapping his arms around her he rolled her on top of him so that she was lying on him. His cock never left her pussy, so he continued to pump. However, after several seconds, he popped out, so she sat up and guided him back in, but she remained sitting upright. She leaned back, resting her hands on his shoulders and rode as he pumped.

She leaned further back and twisted her body so she could kiss the side of his face. She was really grinding her pussy, so he reached around to tweak her nipples.

When he popped out again, she got up and turned over but only rested her pussy on his dick. They kissed again. Easing onto her side, she grabbed his cock and stroked it, so he reached over to finger her pussy, still with their lips locked. She crawled back on top of him, belly to belly, and squirmed her pussy around until it found his cock and he could thrust back in. She rode him cowgirl, then rolled onto her side with one leg draped over his waist. It was awkward pumping her sideways so after a few seconds, he pulled her back on top of him.

She rode him hard, letting her head just roll around on her shoulders. She must have made herself dizzy because she fell over onto her back. He quickly got on top of her to fuck her missionary style. She welcomed him with her arms around him.

"Harder!" she commanded.

He lifted her legs and held her thighs to pound her.

"Yes, yes,

yes!"

she yelled and started writhing from side to side. With a growl, she came hard, clamping her legs around his waist.

That triggered him, and he groaned but did not assume he could come inside her, so he pulled out, but barely in time and squirted cum all over her pussy.

"Mmmm," she purred, squeezing her legs around his cock as though trying to rub it all around.

He was shaken from his reverie when the object of his daydreaming shook his shoulder and said, "Come on, there's a big staff meeting getting ready to start."

Alan Zenger, "Z" as he was affectionately known looked up as the woman he had been dreaming of just now walked by.

* * *

Even her preoccupation with the news had not prevented her from noticing the buzz of activity as she entered the office this Tuesday Morning. She quickly learned that it was because of a staff meeting. There had not been this kind of electricity around the Lawrence City Times since . . . well, for quite some time. Under normal circumstances, Judi St. George would eagerly jump in with both feet. But her husband had come home with some startling news, and at this point, it was all her confused—and excited—mind could consider.

She saw him uncharacteristically staring off into space, so she shook his shoulder. "Come on, there's a big staff meeting getting ready to start," she said to her close friend and fellow reporter, Z, then dragged him to the rear of the office.

Now, it was becoming intriguing. There hadn't been a staff meeting since . . . well, for quite some time. Something

big

must be happening.

The Times was Lawrence City's original newspaper, nearly one hundred years old. Its morgue held the history of the town from the days when the small municipality was actually a huge ranch, and the publication was in fact a newsletter for the hundreds of employees. In its grander days, the Times told of the town's incorporation, the coming of the railroad, electricity, running water, telephones, the internet . . .

Sometime during that span, the Times started receiving competition from the Lawrence City Daily News. It escalated into a fierce battle because a town the size of Lawrence City did not need two newspapers. For years, neither publication could reap the slightest edge. But gradually, as newspaper technology advanced, the Daily News went with it, including an online version, while the Times adhered to its old-fashioned, time-honored methods, and the competition's advance slowly became evident.

The Times never did recover. In fact, it steadily lost ground. Many wondered how the Times managed to remain in business. The staff had been expecting publication to cease for some time, and Judi couldn't help thinking that this was what the staff meeting was all about.

A further clue was the grim expression that adorned the otherwise weathered face of Frank Armstrong, the editor. Not one to mince words, he merely stood before the two dozen employees, his presence before them alone commanding their attention, and announced, "I'm sure this will come as no surprise, but Sunday will be our last issue." He paused to allow the certain hum of chatter to ebb then dissolve. "It's no secret we've been losing circulation for some time—despite the excellent jobs you've all been doing. Apparently, ownership of the Times has changed hands and . . ."

"Who

does

own this newspaper?" Z asked.

"Some old guy who lives out of state. It's rumored that this was just a tax write-off for him. It's been run for him by a management company. I've even heard that he didn't even know he owned the Times. Anyway, whomever the new company is, it doesn't need the tax write-off and doesn't want a non-profit-making company in its portfolio."

"Any chance we can contact the new company and make an appeal?" another staff member inquired.

Armstrong grimaced. "They won't even tell me

who

the new company is. I've been in touch with Glenn Panter over at the Daily News—"

"Could he be behind this?" Judi shot out.

"No," Armstrong answered honestly. "He didn't know a thing, and as you all know, he

owns

the Daily News. He did say he might be able to take on one or two of you if his circulation picks up because of us. The rest, he'll hold applications until he has an opening. We'll announce it in tomorrow's edition. I'll write it. The rest of the week will be business as usual. Sunday's issue will be a retrospective of our history, and I'll discuss your assignments for that with you individually."

It

was

business as usual Z noted an hour later as he casually glanced around the office. There were various discussions going on about what was happening, a few somber faces, and then a couple, like Z, who were concerned about their futures.

So concerned was Z that by lunchtime he realized he hadn't engaged in the usual good-natured bantering with Judi that occupied so much of their work time. It occurred to him that she, too, must have this matter on her mind because she hadn't made any verbal attack on him either.

He found her outside beneath the giant oak tree under which they frequently ate lunch together. Before joining her, he took a moment—one of the many over the years—to just watch the beautiful woman. She was truly his friend, but the icing on the cake was that she was gorgeous.

"So, it's got you worried too," Z commented from her blind side as he approached her.

Judi looked up and smiled, but it was a distant gesture. "Oh, somewhat."

"Aren't you concerned about your future?"

"Yes, but not how you must imagine." She could see that he was concerned, so she forgot her own thoughts momentarily. "What are

you

worried about? You'll probably be one of the few to get a job at the Daily News. Honestly, you're so good, it just amazes me that you don't move to a big newspaper."

"Well, I've told you," Z responded with a shrug, "I like Lawrence City, I like small town life, I like writing for a folksy newspaper. And not just writing, but all the other things that go into publishing a small-town newspaper, which I wouldn't be able to experience at a bigger one and probably won't get to do if I get a job at a bigger one or the Daily News." And those weren't the only reasons, Z thought. "Besides, with so many people now getting their news on the internet, I'm not sure how long the Daily News can stay in business."

"I know. You've already said that, but I still find it hard to believe."

"Are you going to come with me after work to the Daily News to put in an application?"

"I haven't decided."

"What?

Why?"

"I haven't decided if I'm going to continue to work," Judi responded with raised eyebrows.

Z couldn't help chuckling. "Oh, I guess Rod suddenly struck it rich and you don't have to work anymore."

She looked up at him in all seriousness and responded, "As a matter of fact, he did."

As much as they joked and teased with one another, about any and all subjects, to the point where nothing was sacred, it would have been easy to retort in kind. But there was a certain look in Judi's eyes that he had rarely seen, and it prevented him from responding. Of course, he cautioned himself, part of their game was to catch one another with a line, so this could be one of her better attempts. Still, this time he wasn't sure. "Explain," he said simply.

Judi glanced around to make certain no one could hear. "Rod's great uncle died and left him some money."

"I didn't know he had a rich uncle."

"Great

uncle," she corrected. "We knew

about

him, but we just thought he was well-off, retired, and living in Florida. We send him Christmas cards every year and when we went to Disney World on vacation a few years ago we visited him. But that's the extent of our contact. We certainly never expected to inherit millions of dollars."

She said it casually as though the vastness of the sum had not fully made its impression on her. But it did not escape Z's attention. "

Millions!"

he repeated rather expectedly.

"Shhh! I don't want anyone to hear just yet."

"I thought you were talking in the tens of thousands," Z said in an excited whisper. "You're not showing enough elation for millions."

"I'm not sure how I feel about it yet. Or at least I wasn't when I came to work. Now, in view of what's happening to the Times, I guess it couldn't have come at a better time."

"You still don't sound excited."

"Maybe I just need time to get used to the idea."

"Well, when you become rich and the toast of Lawrence City society, don't forget your humble friends." Z phrased it lightheartedly, but the truth was, one of the factors that had him so upset about the Times closing was the possibility of losing touch with Judi. Their friendship was so special, it was worth more than a better job. If only he had known her first.

His feelings toward Judi might be considered peculiar to the casual observer. They'd met only three years ago, when she came to work at the Times. At that point, he'd been employed there just two years, but he had already made a name for himself. They took an instant liking to one another, and he took her under his wing. Some of the other men said he was only doing that because of she was hot, and while he conceded that initially might have been part of it, she was an all-around good person. Her biggest appeal was, like him, she had a terrific sense of humor. In addition, she did not shy away from a close friendship with him because she was married—like so many other women did.

Z had grown to like Judi much more than just as close friends. In fact, sometimes he had to be careful how he looked at her or touched her. If she noticed, she apparently took these gestures as she did his suggestive remarks: as joking and teasing. This was evident because she just as frequently did the same.

The only thing that prevented him from making a serious overture to her was her marriage. And it wasn't so much about her being a married woman. There was probably very little he wouldn't do with or for Judi. But he really didn't know how she felt about it, it was a subject he didn't have the nerve to broach with her, and thus, their approach to the matter hadn't gotten past the joking stage.

It was for these reasons that Z was so disappointed over the fate of the Times. For only as co-workers could he and Judi have such a friendship. And now, that was in serious jeopardy.

"If I ever appear to forget my old friends," Judi was saying, "I'll count on you to set me straight."

* * *

"I'm sorry, Alan, I can't use anyone with your talents, right now," Glenn Panter said. "But I promise you, you will be one of the first persons I call if our circulation increases as a result of the Times' closing."

"I'll do anything." Z didn't want it to sound as though he was pleading, he merely wanted to point out his willingness to work.

"I understand. I just don't happen to have a position for you now."

"Do you have any idea how long it might be?"

"Well, frankly, we don't expect our circulation to rise radically. Many people who get the Times also get the Daily News. A large number of those who only subscribe to the Times are elderly people and may not be too eager to change. So, we could be looking at a month or more. And with the internet, fewer people are reading printed newspapers, so who knows?"

Z thanked the owner of the Daily News and departed with a block of dejection on his shoulders ten times his own weight. What was he going to do?

* * *

Judi St. George was not the least bit surprised that her husband had called and told her to be ready when he arrived home, that they were going out. Her natural assumption was that he was taking her to dinner in celebration of his inheritance. But when he turned on to Lawrence Road driving north of town, her certainty waned. There were no restaurants at which she particularly wanted to dine in this direction, if there were any at all.

All he would do when she questioned him was give a sheepish grin and say, "You'll see."

Just north of town, as the road veered left, Rod slowed and turned onto the drive of another of several estates that lined this part of Lawrence Road. These homes were built by the original founding fathers of Lawrence City. Many had started out as hired hands when the area was part of a huge cattle ranch. These estates now belonged to the elite of Lawrence City, some direct descendants of the original owners.

A wild thought suddenly sprung into Judi's mind, so she blurted out: "You didn't

buy

this place, did you?"

With the grin returning, he merely answered, "No."

Now totally confused, Judi asked with a frown, "Is it a restaurant now?"

"No, it's not a restaurant."

"Rod St. George, tell me what's going on in that wicked mind of yours."

"Okay," he finally conceded with a chuckle. "I didn't

buy

this place because I already

own

it. This is your new home. It was part of the inheritance."

"But I had heard that the estate still belonged to one of the original families."

"It seems Uncle Norman's wife's great grandfather

was

one of the originals."

"And you never knew that?"

"No. As you know, my dad and Uncle Norman were never close. I wonder if my dad even knew."

"So, Uncle Norman married into money," mused Judi in a tone which suggested her husband's relative was something of a gigolo.

"That's what it seems."

"So, why did he leave it all to

you?

You weren't any closer to him than your dad was."

"Great granddad's stipulation. Everything had to go to family or to the city. It seems I'm the only family left."

* * *

"We'll have to get some furniture for the living room," commented Judi upon entering the mansion.

"Uh, this is the foyer," Rod corrected.

"Oh, my God, it's as big as our living room. I'll never be able to keep up a home like this."

"I wouldn't expect you to. You'll have to hire a staff; a butler, cook and a maid should do for starters."

With those words, the impact of what had happened finally, completely, sunk in. They were rich. Not just well off.

Wealthy.

Seriously affluent. Beyond reason. Or at least beyond Judi's capacity for logic.

As Rod led her on a tour of the opulent mansion with its pine wood paneling in virtually every room (pine trees grew like weeds in this area, so it had been used indiscriminately), solid pine flooring in many rooms, marble in the foyer and six bathrooms, plush carpet in the six bedrooms, Judi became less certain she wanted to live in this . . . this

museum.

Downstairs, alone, there was the foyer (she counted it as a room because it was as big as any in her own home), a huge living room, den, office/study, library/sitting room, a formal dining room capable of seating 20 persons, a family dining room and a mostly glass enclosed breakfast room, not to mention the gigantic kitchen and pantry, and two of the bathrooms. Beyond the pantry was a separate wing which housed the servants' quarters.

Upstairs were the six bedrooms each with a door onto the balcony which completely surrounded the house. Two of the bedrooms, each on one end of the house were, what would be considered now, master bedrooms with their own full bathrooms. Each two of the remaining four bedrooms shared a bathroom.

Returning down the grand staircase to the foyer after the tour, Judi now knew that she did not want to live in this shrine of a bygone era. She was a humble country girl, for the most part content with her current lifestyle. This was too radical a change. None of her friends would be comfortable visiting her here.