Lady Heather sighed as she heard a knocking on the door of her bedchamber. "Just a moment," she called, reaching for her red dressing gown to cover her young, nude body.
She opened the door to see James, her family's butler, standing there. "Good morning, James," she said with a smile.
He held her breakfast tray. "Breakfast, Miss Heather. Shall I put it on the dresser?"
"Please." As he passed, Heather took the delicate teacup from the tray and sipped the steaming hot tea.
He put the tray down. "Cook prepared your favo-rite, Miss Heather. Apple turnovers and oatmeal with cream."
Heather laughed. "I do love oatmeal with cream --even more than one kind of cream, James." She gave him a seductive look.
The fifty-year-old butler blushed slightly. "Why, what do you mean, Miss Heather?"
The nineteen-year-old lady of the manor moved close to him. "I think you know, James. Don't you? Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talk-ing about, because I think you understand perfect-ly."
She leaned up on her tiptoes, sliding her arms around the old man's neck. Her dressing gown gaped in the front to show a tantalizing view of her perfect, milky white titties.
James drew a deep breath. He didn't know what had gotten into her that morning. He'd been work-ing for Heather's family for thirty years, and had watched Heather grow up. Now the sultry, chestnut-haired, blue-eyed beauty was trying to seduce him!
There was no denying that he'd looked at Heather before, her tiny waist, the swell of her titties in her expensive silk gowns, bt now . . .
Heather smiled and pressed her lips to his, as she moved a hand to the front of his pants. "Oh, my, James. Your cock is very hard, isn't it?"
"Yes, Miss Heather . . . " James choked. "It is . . . oh, God."
Heather smiled as she tilted her head to one side. "I think I know a way to take care of that. James, I know that you like to look at me," she said, untying the belt of her dressing gown and slipping it off.
