Maria woke early the next morning, she looked over to Harry still asleep, quiet and still. 'It's a long time since I woke up with a man in my bed,' she thought with a smile; spontaneously she leant over and kissed him very gently, Harry did not stir and Maria thought again, "Look at him he's so peaceful, no one would ever guess what he is like in bed."
She got up showered in the second bathroom to avoid disturbing Harry and made herself a coffee. On returning, Harry was still fast asleep, so she took her coffee onto the small balcony which led from her bedroom. Maria sat down; her view looked out over her property towards the river and the centre of Hawksworth beyond. She felt totally relaxed in the relative cool of the early morning, and as she sipped her coffee, she fell back into her earlier daydreams.
What had he called her? "Priceless," it was silly, she smiled to herself, but at the time it was perfect, and then Harry had made love to her; they had kissed, they had rolled around on the blanket next to the pool, then he had sucked her nipples. Rock hard nipples Maria remembered, touching herself for a moment as a reminder, she smiled, and then he had moved down inexorably, to eat her out again. In the cool of the morning it seemed in one sense like a blur to Maria, but the pleasure, the tormenting pleasure of his probing searching tongue went on and on looping through her mind, again and again to a relived climax.
What Harry had wanted had been a little unexpected: Maria bit her lip pensively as she remembered, Harry had turned her over onto her hands and knees and fucked her, it was no longer lovemaking, he had taken her, 'he fucked me,' reflected Maria. To call it rough sex was not enough, the sheer energy, the urgency with which he plunged into her without regard for anything electrified her, she gloried in it, and when his climax came he fell on her back biting hard into her shoulder as his semen flooded her womb. Maria remembered no pain or hurt only a surge of complete joy, a joy of giving herself completely.
"Day dreaming?" Harry had woken up and padded quietly over.
"Mmmm, you could call it that" she replied as he kissed the top of her head. Then Maria woke up properly, "You had better hop in the shower and get dressed if you are working today, time's marching on, it must be almost eight already."
"Yes you're right, I had better get moving."
"Be downstairs in ten minutes for some breakfast."
Harry met the deadline with a minute to spare. "Porridge with fruit on the side and a huge mug of tea, what's this about Maria, porridge oats in the morning and pasta in the evening, are you trying to build me up?"
"No," she laughed "it's carbohydrates for energy, oats, slow release in the morning, wheat pasta for quick energy in the evening, I'm optimising your performance, and looking after my own best interests at the same time."
"I'm partial to my favourite sweetmeat myself" responded Harry, putting an arm around her playfully.
"Don't I know it," retorted Maria brushing him off, "And if last nights last performance is a guide, you prefer your sweetmeat to be steaming in a sticky marinade."
"Maybe," grinned Harry pausing between mouthfuls, "I was a bit carried away, I put it down to the pheromones, your body heat and yes, maybe it was the marinade, as you so decorously put it."
"I'm not complaining, I'm just wondering what you're going to come up with to top it."
"Ah ha," said Harry "Well I do have designs on...hello who's this?"
A small truck had turned into the driveway, and as it straightened to proceed down the track to the old house, the sign on its side was clear, "Salt's Engineering:" the Bruton brothers had bought the firm but retained the old name.
"That'll be old George with one of Cory's men bringing back the new tyres for the tractor, I'll have to rush, I want them to give me a hand with those trunks."
Harry grabbed a banana and made hastily for the door. "Hey wait a moment," cried Maria "designs on what exactly?"
Harry hesitated for no more than a second and answered with a huge grin "But your ass of course...your wonderful magnificent ass." And then he was gone.
Maria was left talking to herself for a moment. "Surely not, he can't mean, no of course not, he couldn't possibly...could he?"
Harry arrived just as George and his workmate had started to unload the first of the wheels. "Ah good," George greeted him "we've got the hoist on the truck but an extra pair of hands would be handy manoeuvring these big wheels, especially," he added "seeing as the only help I've got is this useless article." The useless article old George referred to was a large affable young man about Harry's age, he grinned "G'day I'm Pete, don't mind George, the truth is the poor old sod's a bit past it, so we could do with a bit of help."
Old George and Pete continued to bicker and abuse each other, in a way that only the very best of mates can, while Harry observed that both of them were in fact, very competent and sure in their work. In what seemed to Harry a surprisingly short time they had the massive wheels unloaded and re-fitted.
"Now I s'pose," observed old George accurately, "You've got something you want us to do for you."
"Right," confirmed Harry "I want Pete to give me a hand to carry a couple of steel trunks and a chest down from upstairs. The trunks in particular are too awkward and heavy for one person. If Pete could give me a hand to load them onto my ute I can then take them up to Maria's house for her."
"We can do better than that," suggested Pete, "We'll use our truck because we've got the hoist and it'll be much easier to load and unload."
The two young men made their way upstairs to the tune of George telling them to get on with it because he didn't have all day.
"What's the camera for?"
"Oh my aunt is interested in the history of this place and asked me to photograph everything before it was moved. I was going to get Maria to take them, but perhaps you could help. Harry quickly took a dozen pictures and asked Pete to take a few more with him in them as his aunt Diane had requested. They soon had more than enough
"What's this?" asked Pete, noticing the chest in the back corner
"Only an old chest of drawers."
"No... I don't think so, look at these brass handles, two on each side, one above the other, and also the fancy brass work on the corners. The top half probably lifts off."
"What is it then?"
"I'm not absolutely certain," replied Pete, "But it might be a campaign chest."
Harry was none the wiser for being told that, and was conscious of keeping old George waiting; "Come on, we had better get it all shifted."