Caring For Sheridan Manor Pt 04

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After I dropped Sophie off at home, I couldn't seem to find the dimmer switch on my beaming smile. It stayed all the way through stripping off my clothes, brushing my teeth, and tucking myself into bed. It didn't even go away when I woke up to a polite albeit urgent knock at my door.

Assuming it was Sophie, I only pulled on a pair of shorts, still wearing my sports bra on top. But it was Arlon, the estate manager, and I startled at the sight of him. He was dressed even better than his usual stately attire in a checked suit jacket and crisp white shirt. His eyes widened at my bare stomach and chest. He pressed inside my cottage and shut the door behind him, practically hissing, "Why aren't you up yet? Mr. Bluth is going to be here any minute."

My mind raced as I rummaged through my dresser. "Mr. Bluth? As in- uh- as in-?"

"Our dear Sophie's father, yes. He's the one signing the checks, after all. Nothing to worry about too much, just a standard inspection before the open house soiree Saturday night." Arlon straightened some things in the open kitchenette. "Of course, you'll have to do the tour of the grounds, but nothing you aren't used to."

I swallowed and resisted the urge to whip around and look at him. "Right, of course. Is there anything I need to be aware of?"

"Wear something nice," he replied.

I huffed. "I don't own anything nice; I work with dirt literally all day."

I could hear the eye roll in his voice as he said, "Then at least something clean."

"Clean's even harder."

I grabbed my least-stained tee and overalls, yanking them on and then wrestling my hair into a couple braids. Of course, 'least-stained overalls' was a tough standard. I only owned one outfit that didn't have at least some dirt ground into its fabric and I wore it last night.

Last night. Right.

I'd never had to look a man in the eye after railing his daughter before. Not exactly a relationship person, historically, and definitely not a 'parent meeting' person in the slightest. Shit. I'd given tours to what felt like hundreds of buyers and flippers and tourists through the years, and none of them had ever phased me.

I returned to the entryway in my plain, usual clothes. "Is this okay?"

The sound of a loud, smooth engine approaching interrupted us. Not many cars drove past the manor -- period -- and even fewer that sounded like that. He took a deep breath and squeezed my shoulders. "It'll have to do."

Suddenly an idea that would at least distract me came to my mind. I practically shoved Arlon out of my place with the words, "I'll be right out; just need to freshen up a bit." As he left, I added, like an afterthought, "Oh, and could you have Sophie stop by real quick? I need her to sign off on an invoice for me."

He held up a hand in a quick 'no problem' and began his meandering path to the front gate to greet the dreaded Mr. Bluth.

I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and did my best to look like an upstanding citizen of the area or whatever might be expected from me. Then I went to my bedside table and opened up the bottom drawer where, of course, I kept my collection of sex toys. Where else? I pocketed what I wanted as there was another knock at the door -- gentler, less sure. Sophie. I answered the door and pulled her inside. The anxiety of her dad's visit was written all over her soft, sloping features. No pink lipgloss or cute blouse today. white buttondown. Black blazer. A smart pair of jeans signaled she was trying to give off effortless confidence. Not exactly her strong suit, unfortunately.

Before she could say anything, I pulled her into a hug, not wanting to touch her carefully applied makeup. I said against her ear, "You look great, the place looks great, and you've done an amazing job with everything. Take a deep breath."

I took it with her. In. Out. Our chests rose and fell together.

Sophie said, "Arlon told me that you needed me..." she paused and gave me a pointed look "...for an invoice."

I waved my hand dismissively and joked, "You know I forge your signature on those."

"Ros, that's not f-!"

I rolled my eyes. "Come on, lighten up." I trailed my finger along the line of her neck, up to her ear, and tucked a piece of curly blonde away. "I just thought I could give you something to take your mind off of things today."

"We definitely don't have time for-"

I presented a little purple vibrator to her, fairly flat and no bigger than two fingers. "Put this in your panties, right against your clit. And I'll keep this-" I swung its small activation remote, on a little keychain, in front of her face, clicking it twice to cause the near-silent vibration "-in my pocket while we do the tour."

Sophie shoved me playfully. "As if. You're insane."

I pressed the vibrator into her hand. "Not insane. I promise not to make you cum until after, unless you ask."

She dropped her voice really low as if someone could hear us in the walls. "In front of my father, Ros? Absolutely not. This is an important day."

I leaned in, a smirk growing on my lips. "What are you? Chicken?"

She met my gaze head-on but her cheeks were boiling pink. "You think that's going to work?"

"No, but I think the thought of me having all that control over you while you have to maintain your composure turns you on and you're too embarrassed to say it." My hand found her hip under her blazer and pulled her forward. I pressed my lips into the place where her jaw curved into her neck, right under her ear, and bit just a little. I pulled my tongue up and nibbled on her earlobe next. Her hip instinctively ground forward and she whimpered a tiny bit. "Tell me I'm wrong and I'll drop it."

She gave me a whiny moan and practically stomped her foot. "Fine, but if I tell you to stop you have to stop."

"That's always true," I reminded her. "How about you just tap me on the shoulder if you want me to stop? Sound good?"

"Easy enough."

I dropped onto my knees and started unbuttoning her high-waisted jeans. I cut her a look. "All these buttons? You make my life so difficult."

She sucked in a breath. "I'm sure it's so, so hard. You complain constantly."

I roughly pulled her pants down and gave her a hard slap on her ass. "Such a tease."

Sophie had on sportier underwear than her usual cutesy, feminine ones. Just a pair of plain blue cheekies, branded waistband, nothing too fun. She really wasn't expecting me to do anything. That made me chuckle. I kissed each of her hip bones and then wriggled her underwear down. She put her hand in my hair and warned, "Ros, don't get too distracted. Daddy's waiting."

I looked up at her. "You actually call him 'daddy'? That dried me up like the Sahara."

"It's just how our family is." She gave my hair a half-hearted, playful tug that I wished was full-force just because of how charming it would be. "Now are we doing this or not?"

"Alright bossy." I laughed and tucked the vibrator in the open gusset of her panties, thankful she'd worn the foolproof kind for once. A slutty little silk thong, while more than welcome, isn't great for this particular type. I had an internal remote one, too, but that might be a lot for a girl just getting into things with me. I planted a few kisses along her waistband as I pulled them back up.

I stood back up and used my thumb to tilt up her chin, meeting my eyes. "Time for a test to make sure."

Then I pressed my activation button. Instantly, Sophie shivered and moaned. My lips curled and twitched as I pressed the button over and over in rapid succession, each time eliciting an enticing reaction from her. "You'll have to control those reactions, gorgeous, or I imagine we'll both be getting in some trouble."

I shut off the vibrator and buttoned her jeans back up, carefully tucking in her shirt and making sure she was all straightened out.

She took a deep breath. "That's dangerous."

"Says the girl who wanted to be fucked in the bed of a dirty old truck outside of a sex shop last night," I teased. "I won't be too mean; I promise."

"I'll hold you to that."

"Hold me to whatever you want."

She shoved me one more time. "We need to go."

"Yeah, yeah."

I gave her one more squeeze and a slap on the ass before we left my place, walked through the alley, and arrived at the bottom of the long gravel drive.

Mr. Bluth stood with his arms crossed, talking to Arlon, next to his gorgeous car. My older brother had taught me enough about growing up that I could recognize the iconic curves of a mid-'60s Aston Martin with ease. Of course, it was perfectly buffed and detailed. I was surprised that he'd drive the thing all the way out here, but either he had an even nicer ride at home and this was his day-to-day car or he just wanted to seem impressive. It was as much his first impression as ours, after all.

Sophie hadn't inherited anything from her dad, really. She lacked his dark coiffed hair, botoxed forehead, and assertive, calm, authoritative air. He wore a navy pinstripe suit with brown leather shoes and a matching belt. A Rolex glittered on his wrist and his teeth sparkled nearly as much. He didn't strike me as rich; he struck me as wealthy. There wasn't anything flashy or excessive about him, but he oozed with a sleek casual energy that came with money so old nothing could threaten it. Money talks, wealth whispers.

I swallowed hard.

Sophie walked up to him and I trailed behind her, practicing the grip of my handshake at my side. Would he expect a soft, feminine handshake? A firm one? Bone-crushingly masculine and assertive?

And why the hell did I care?

I shook my head a bit as Sophie said, "Daddy, I see you've already met our amazing household manager Arlon. And this-" she gestured to me like I was supposed to take a bow "-is our groundskeeper, Roslyn Tanner. She lives on the property just down the alley and-"

Mr. Bluth cut her off and shook my hand. Bone-crushing. "Good to meet you, Roslyn."

"Ros, please." I offered a tight-lipped smile. "Your daughter's done a hell of a job with our home."

He practicality winced at the word 'hell.' I gave Sophie a quick 'you should've prepped me more' vibration and she sucked in a sharp breath. Mr. Bluth cut her a glance but turned back to me. "You'll be giving me a tour of the gardens, then?"

"Yes, of course, and then Arlon and some of the others will take you around the manor where the last of the work is wrapping up."

He gave me a stern nod and I turned around, taking a very slow deep breath. Arlon excused himself as I walked Mr. Bluth and Sophie away toward the property's entrance. During my standard half-hour tour of the grounds, I did my usual routine of pointing out my favorite plant species, highlighting the expertise of shrubbery trimming, and sharing some of the oldest and most interesting details of the estate. I omitted the ghost stories because Mr. Bluth didn't seem like one for fantasy.

As we went, every time I stopped to point something out, I pressed the button in my pocket in time with my words. Each time, she squirmed deliciously as she tried to keep her cool.

I wrapped up the loop of the tour back at the front of the house, where the grand tiered fountain was finally waiting to be turned on this weekend for the open house. I stopped and pointed toward the new marble top which had replaced its crumbling predecessor. Venus, her carved Grecian gown hugging her breasts, hips, and stomach, waited patiently to pour water out on the pool beneath her. I set the vibrator on constant and said, "Sophie, you picked out this fountain fixture; why don't you explain some of the history behind it and why it's a good choice for the estate?"

Sophie looked at me with wide eyes. "Ah, yes, of course."

She cleared her throat and adjusted her legs so she stood with them crossed a bit. "Sheridan Manor was originally built for a widow by her wealthy daughter and son-in-law as a sort of, ah, retirement home, where the young family could spend summers with her."

I chuckled to myself as she painfully avoided eye contact with her father. I could only imagine the wetness gathering between her legs as she grew more and more flush.

Sophie continued, "When she died, it was given to her daughter, and then to her daughter. So, ah, hm. Yeah. Okay. So, in a way, it's a bit of a love letter to the generational connection between women, which makes Venus a-"

"God, Soph, go have a cold drink," I interrupted. "You're clearly overheating or something."

"Yes," she replied thankfully. "I do think I need a glass of water. Very hot out today."

I smiled and elected not to make a joke about how the sun hadn't been out yet today. "I think Ella's made a fresh batch of sweet tea in the main kitchen."

Mr. Bluth nodded, clearly ready to be done with us and inside regardless. The money came from the inside, with its custom flooring and velvet curtains. He said, "Well, that sounds lovely."

"Ros, why don't you take Daddy to the main staff quarters?"

"No problem, Ms. Bluth."

She didn't tap my shoulder, though, as she marched herself into the house toward the kitchen. I walked her dad to the opposite end of the manor and sent him up the stairs to meet Arlon for the inside tour.

When he was gone, Sophie materialized next to me, her breath ragged like she'd been waiting behind the while to jump me. Maybe she had been. Her cheeks were bright red. The blush went all the way down her neck and bloomed underneath her collar.

I teased, "Look at you, all-"

She said, "Shut up."

Then she grabbed me and kissed me hard, pushing me into the brick wall and mixing her lipstick with my chapstick. Instinctively, I grabbed her ass and drew her into me. She ground her clothed cunt against my hipbone like an animal as she breathed in my ear, "I need you. Now."

Her lipstick already a mess, she nodded toward my frosted glass greenhouse workshop. "Come on."

"Such a little exhibitionist lately," I teased.

"Everyone's inside," she assured me in a breathy whisper.

Before she could say anything else, I shoved her back on my workbench. She kicked off her shoes. I undid her jeans without any pageantry. Pure animal lust swelled in my lungs. I tore them off her legs and flung them on the dirty floor nearby. I breathed in the scent of her cunt through her soaked panties.

She whimpered for my touch but I stopped to pay attention to her thighs. She had just shaved and her pale thighs were perfectly smooth and soft. Things like that didn't bother me one way or another, but her skin just begged me to drag my tongue up from her inner thigh by her knee all the way up to her hip. I bit on her hipbone, sinking in my teeth just enough to leave a bright pink mark afterward. Sophie's gasp was all the reward I needed.

I sucked my way back down her thigh, stopping to leave hickeys every few inches. Juvenile, maybe, but I liked knowing I'd left my mark on her for days to come. The purplish brown circles bloomed under my tongue as she squirmed. I held her other hip down with a firm, consistent hand. Finally, I sucked and bit on the side of her calf, leaving a perfect circular imprint.

She half-complained, half-moaned, "I was planning on wearing a skirt to the opening."

Pausing momentarily to look up into her pleading green eyes, I laughed, "Nobody's stopping you, coward."

She huffed, "Please just get me off, Ros; you're driving me crazy."

I backed off of her and smirked. "You can only cum if I say."

The look she gave me mixed fury and desperation in that perfect, submissive cocktail. "No fair."

"I promise in five minutes you'll feel differently."

I tugged her underwear off and got to work. I wanted to watch her face, so I touched the pad of my thumb to her clit, adding and releasing pressure at an even pace. Sophie's eyes closed tightly and her back arched upward. Her mouth fell open ever so slightly, lower lip pouting and curling.

When I slipped my two middle fingers inside of her, matching my thumb's motions to the rubbing on her clit, she let out a satisfied moan. The ancient frosted glass creaked behind her as my workbench butted up against it. Neither of us cared. Her hot wetness slicked my fingers and I couldn't resist dropping down to taste her clit.

Sophie wrapped her fingers in my hair which sent a wave of bright lust into my gut. She held on hard enough to release a small splinter of pain that edged me on. I leaned into her semisweet taste, flicking my tongue under the hood of her clit. She tasted so intoxicating, bitter and sour like wine but warm and sweet like a five-star dessert. I'd bottle that taste if I could. I ravished and savored that clit, rolling it ever so lightly between my teeth, exploring its intricate weave of nerves with the tip of my tongue, pressing it to my sucking lips.

With each firm lick and curl of my fingers, Sophie's moans got a little higher and a little softer. She didn't get loud when she came; she dropped into an open-mouthed ecstatic silence that joined with writhing hips. She began to clench down on my fingers and ground herself against my tongue. I let her take control for a few seconds as she peaked and then crashed, enjoying the sharp taste and smooth sensation of her rubbing against me. Then, as her orgasm erupted and she began to squirm away, I took charge again, pulling her close to me so that she couldn't escape the waves and waves of intensity. Her voice came back; gasping moans echoed around the old greenhouse, imprinting on my eardrums.

Finally, her contractions subsided and I eased off her clit, kissing and licking her labia and inner thighs until she calmed. She took in deep breaths. Her legs shook from holding herself up on the table. I ran my hands gently over her hips until she leaned forward, crunched down, and kissed me. She held each side of my face with a hand and planted urgent kisses on my cheeks, my chin, my neck, my forehead.

A laugh bubbled up and out of my mouth as I said, "You're too cute sometimes."

"As if you mind."

Sophie kissed me one more time and checked her smartwatch. Satisfied with the time, she looked at me with a wicked grin. "My turn."

It was just then, though, that the greenhouse door groaned open, and a man's silhouette appeared.

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