I'm Steve Potter and I've been a pub landlord my whole working life. Two years ago my wife, Bernie, died. I nearly fell apart, but with the support of my friends and staff in the pub, I kept going. A few months ago the staff in the pub, unbeknownst to me, organized a saucy Christmas calendar, with all the funds raised going to cancer research in memory of Bernie. I'd always been a keen amateur photographer and had even won awards for some of my nature photography, so I was persuaded to take the photos for the calendar. One of my staff, Karen, had also started her own fans page, just rude selfies taken in her bedroom mainly, but it was popular and with my help she turned it into a full time, very well paid job. All of the above events and goings on are covered in the story 'Trouble at the Inn.' The following is what happened after that.
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I was collecting Estelle at twelve and was glad that I'd given myself plenty of time as the traffic was horrendous. I sat there thinking about Estelle and about the past three months. We got to spend two or three nights a week together and also saw each other most days at work, work being her daughter Karen's house, which also doubled as the studio and office of her increasingly successful online fans page. Now we were going to spend two weeks, twenty four hours a day together. We got on really well, but I was nervous.
My mind was wondering, thinking about our relationship and thinking back to how we met when Estelle had agreed to do a mother/daughter lingerie shoot with Karen. It was a really fun afternoon and the photos were amazing and to this day it is still the most popular photo set on Karen's site. We went for a drink afterwards and have been seeing each other since.
Both me and Estelle now worked full time for Karen and her page. Me as photo/videographer and Estelle as her 'personal assistant.' We have a routine, meeting around 9.30 after Karen drops her kids to school. We have a cup of tea and discuss the day ahead. At 10 Karen goes online for an hour, chatting live to fans and subscribers. She was always a good people person when she worked in the pub and still is, making all those she's chatting with feel valued and listened to. She tells them what she'll be up to that day and what new content she is posting. It's a popular hour, helped by the fact that Karen is normally just in her bra and knickers.
Me and Karen then film or shoot content before all meeting up for lunch and reviewing what we've done. Estelle had been a glamour model herself before she had Karen and often added things that we hadn't thought of. In the afternoon Estelle collects the children from school and helps them with their homework before Karen stops work around 5. It's an unusual set up, me, a fifty six year old man, taking rude photos of twenty eight year old Karen and then dating her mum, but it works for us.
Since their mother/daughter shoot Karen has received thousands of requests for more of Estelle but so far Estelle has refused, saying she's shy, which she definitely isn't. I think she's conflicted. She's a natural extrovert and has no problem modeling or showing her body but a bit of her mind thinks a woman in her fifties shouldn't be doing that, although she admits she loved doing the shoot with Karen. I also think the whole internet thing, and people all over the world having instant access to your photos, freaks her out a bit.
She's a very sexy and natural model. I've persuaded her to pose for me a few times but this has been for ourselves and we haven't shown them to anyone, Estelle enjoying teasing Karen who is mad to see them. I think this may change over the next couple of weeks as Estelle's been telling everyone that she's coming home from holiday with an all over tan, with no tan lines and that there'll be photos to prove it.
Estelle's smile and the kiss she gave me when I eventually arrived at her house made me forget any concerns I might have had, my brain now in holiday mode, especially when I saw the luggage she was bringing.
I'd managed to fit all my gear, clothes and some camera equipment, into a small rucksack and a carry-on suitcase. Estelle had the same as me plus a large suitcase that we would have to check in.
I lifted it to put it in the car and was surprised how light it was, maybe even lighter than the carry-on suitcases. I asked Estelle about this and she said it was mainly sundresses that she didn't want to squash into her other case and also all her liquids and make-up.
We got to the airport and after checking her bag in we went to the bar, Estelle getting jolly on some wine and me drinking coffee as I had to drive later. Estelle was in a playful mood and had her hand on my thigh as she whispered into my ear, telling me all the things she was going to do to me when we got to the villa, laughing at me having to adjust my trousers.
I can't remember the last time I'd checked a bag in and had forgotten how annoying the bag carousels could be. Out of a flight of two hundred people there were about fifty waiting for bags, the message on the screen changing a few times as our bags were delayed. There was no explanation for this but just before they came out I was aware of a few policemen congregating near the carousel, two baggage handling staff with them.
"Maybe someone's been a bit naughty, trying to bring in something they shouldn't, although the cops look fairly relaxed."
"Maybe." Was all Estelle said in reply, not really looking at me.
The bags eventually appeared and as we were in no rush, I let others get their bags first before I lifted Estelle's bag off. I was immediately aware of the policemen's eyes on me and was expecting them to come over to me. I looked at them but instead of approaching me they were just smiling, looking from me to Estelle and smiling more, almost sneering.
I was confused and Estelle's expression didn't help, a mix of anger and 'fuck you' defiance. I went to say something but she just took the handle of the bag and started walking, motioning for me to follow her. There were now more eyes on us and Estelle stopped, half smirking. She leant in and gave me a slow, passionate kiss on the lips, her smile spreading as she broke the kiss, saying something about giving the fuckers a show and that she'd explain soon. As we headed for the exit I'm sure she exaggerated the swing of her hips, actually enjoying whatever the fuck was going on.
We got outside and she burst out laughing, unable to hold it any more. I had a bemused look on my face as I waited for an explanation. "I knew the fuckers would scan my bag, dirty bastards."
"What the fuck was in it?"
She blushed for the first time, "It's full of sex toys and sexy lingerie."
My draw dropped, my shocked face making her laugh more, me joining in as I didn't know what else to do.
"I thought if I checked a bag in then even if they did notice what was in it, no one would be that bothered and they wouldn't trace it to me. Whereas if I had to put it through the xray machine myself, they would definitely know it was me who owned it."
"They might think you have small rockets or missiles in there."
"Very funny."
"So you think they saw what was in there and then told all their mates about it, that's what the delay was and why so many fellas were watching you."
"Definitely, bleeding pervs."
"Serves you right for bringing them, why have you brought them?"
Before she answered this Estelle bent down and examined her bag, "The zips are in a different position, I think they've had a look inside as well."
She opened it and was saying they'd definitely taken everything out.