A wealthy woman becomes a girl's pet
*
"Hi, how are you today, sir?" Miranda asked politely.
"I'm fine, and you? Good! Well I'm off for a game of golf, won't be back until late, there's a committee meeting. Thanks for keeping my wife company. You're a star, young lady," Matthew said.
Geraldine walked into the kitchen still wearing a dressing gown, took one look at Miranda and quickly looked away. "What's she doing here?" his wife asked.
Recognizing his wife was going to be awkward, even rude, he looked at Miranda and smiled pleasantly. "Do you mind waiting in the lounge? Thanks," he smiled gratefully.
"You're not well so I thought some company would help. Why don't you get back to bed and let the girl look after you," he said.
"I don't need a nursemaid, especially a young eighteen-year-old making more mess than you would," she complained.
"Hey, give the kid a chance, she probably needs the money. Her mother suggested it but it was sweet of her to agree to stay," he said.
Trying a different tack she said. "Do you have to play golf today, darling," she asked, while massaging her forehead for effect. Trying for sympathy wasn't working either. She was being outmaneuvered and bitterly knew it.
He wasn't going to miss an important game and she dare not tell him why he should. How that brat of a girl wormed her way into being here didn't matter, she wasn't wanted and would have to go. Miranda caught her in an indelicate position last weekend and of course she angrily dismissed the girl off home. She never expected to ever to see the brat again.
"We're miles from town and you're not well. If you get worse she can look after you or call me. I think my wife needs babysitting while I'm gone," Matthew laughed playfully, giving her a pat on the head.
She grimaced with an exaggerated smile back at him. "OK! Go enjoy your golf, I'll be fine," she smiled wanly.
***
Geraldine strode into the lounge. "I don't know how you wangled your way in here but you are not staying. I'll call a taxi and you're out of here," she said, through gritted teeth.
Miranda said nothing, just slowly and meaningfully turned her head toward the television. Geraldine followed the girl's mean looking eyes. A gasp of shock stopped her moving toward the phone. She clamped a hand over her mouth on seeing a filthy movie. It was her, Geraldine, splayed out on her own bed.
"I'll play it from the beginning, shall I?" Miranda asked, politely.
Geraldine stood transfixed in the middle of the lounge. On the large television screen she was spread out on the bed vigorously using a dildo. She knew the girl had caught her last weekend, after finishing playing with herself, but how was that naughty act here on television?
Slowly it dawned on her. The girl hadn't just walked in the bedroom at the end, she had been filming everything. The bitch must have planted a camera in her bedroom.
"What the hell do you think you are doing? You can't do this. It's private," she said with bitter anger sharpening her voice.
"Better watch from the beginning so you know what you're complaining about," Miranda warned her.
The real action was from last weekend when Miranda caught her masturbating. Miranda had come back during the week when no one was home to see the gardener. She started filming the guy, teasing him, getting him to say things from her prepared script. He had been willing enough to play along, not knowing what she was up to.
***
The scene changed to a shot through the French doors. A young muscular guy, the gardener, stripped off a tight white t-shirt, wiped his sweaty chest then dropped it on the patio. He looked up and waved.
Next was a shot of Geraldine in the same dressing gown looking out of the door, supposedly at the young guy stripping.
"That didn't happen!" she said, to the film rather than the teenager.
He walked toward the open French doors to stand posing, seeming to fill the frame with glistening muscles. The angle swung round to find Geraldine shucking off the dressing gown.
"No! He wasn't there!" she said quietly in disbelief. It was impossible to look away from the screen and as much as she needed to shout at it she just stood silently, taking it all in. This was all wrong! She wouldn't let that young man into her bedroom.
As though confirming Geraldine's thoughts, her voice spoke out in the film. "Don't come in yet, just wait," she said. He nodded as though she had spoken to him from off camera.
Miranda smiled at how well the two separate episodes had been put together. Geraldine had said this when she knocked on the bedroom door last week. It was also very pleasing to see how enthralled the woman was with her little film.
On the large screen, Geraldine lifted her head as though looking toward the French doors and the young man. Dressed in just a thin nightgown she lifted a leg revealing it to the thigh and began rubbing oil into the bare flesh. While she worked on her legs the camera panned to the young guy smiling at her.
"Very nice," he commented, with a mischievous grin plastered across his face.
The nightdress was casually hiked up over her head and dropped on the floor. Again the shot of the guy, only this time he wasn't smiling but looking intense. Miranda had to show her boobs to get him going for this shot.
The woman continued massaging oil over the rest of her body, missing nothing. It was a pity - oiling her breasts looked perfunctory rather than sexy, though any guy watching this attractive naked woman wouldn't analyze it that closely.
"Nice tits," he said, off screen. Again he was commenting on Miranda's naughty tease while the woman of the house was out.
Parting her legs a hand smoothed between the thighs leaving the whole body gleaming. She turned and bent over a dressing table showing a voluptuous bottom with shining lips protruding between thin thighs.
She stepped back to plonk her bottom down on the edge of the bed. In her hand was a black dildo. She hesitated then rubbed it between her thighs.
The part where she hesitated and moved to put it back was cut. The woman had changed her mind and continued playing with herself.
On screen she was laying back on the bed with legs parted, rubbing it over her lips. Around them, over them, she worked it hard while saying something between gritted teeth.
"Watch me do it, just watch me, please," she moaned. The sound of her voice very different now she had become so excited.
At least that's how it appeared. Geraldine had been just moaning, so Miranda added dialogue to fit the scene. It had taken a lot of practice but she thought it sounded pretty good.
The gardener could be heard off screen encouraging the woman. "Do it, go on don't just tease," he said. That's when Miranda had taken a boob out for him.
