Inheritance 10

"And do not fuck that tart Isadore!"

"Isadore?" I am at a bit of a loss.

"Don't give me that! Your fathers maid! She has the hots for you."

"Oh. Her? I didn't notice." And truthfully I hadn't noticed the last time we were at my fathers "place in the country". I have always found that women have far better "hots" detectors than I do so, to an extent I rely on such interactions for leads. And man is this one a good lead. Isadore is a flaming red head, beautiful body, fine breasts and eyes that could probably say all sorts of dangerous things. And I hadn't noticed. Damn. How many others have I missed?

"I saw her looking at you. Practically drooling she was. And you? You were basking in her gaze. Saw you!"

"I will keep my hands off of her. Aside from anything else Father is probably ploughing her field and would not appreciate any competition."

"I doubt that your father can get it up any more so your step mother is probably going hungry too. Daniel, the chauffeur is probably ploughing Reinette's pussy."

She is probably right about my father's ability to service two rather gorgeous thirty somethings regularly. Interesting that she knows the chauffeur's name. Surely he is beneath her notice as she is very uppity. Sees herself as part of the gentry. She is one of the ways I use to prove to "Father" that I am on the straight and narrow. "Such a fine woman is Mary. You take care of her. Don't lose her. She is a credit to the family." He just doesn't know how decadent she can be does he now?

Mary, my fiancée is fairly direct in her speech and I have come to rely on her "hots" detection for friends with benefits. Like the lovely raven haired Lindy, who is happily married, but quite willing to spread her legs for me occasionally. The thought of all the sex I may have been missing makes me look at Mary carefully for the first time and that causes me to do a double take. Made up with bright red lipstick, hair loose and swirling. A blouse that is practically see through with a black bra underneath. High heels and black stockings, but what really catches my eye is her skirt. It is what we guys at school use to call a pussy pelmet. Just long enough so that the panties are not visible. Only just.

"Talking of illicit sex. You are supposed to be going to a team building weekend. Dressed like that the only building that you will do is the building of multiple erections. What the fuck are you dressed like that for?"

Mary has the good grace to look embarrassed.

"The theme of the opening session is decadence. I decided to go as a sex worker."

"Fuck! Decadence indeed!"

"I have got to go now. My taxi..."

"Wait, panty inspection first!"

I step forward and before she can escape I have flicked the flared skirt upwards, to discover that there are no panties to be inspected. Such decadence cannot go unpunished and I slide my hand between her legs.

"So wet. You are so looking forward to this team building!"

"No! You just.. "

Before she can complete the sentence I have pressed her against the wall and I have my free hand in her hair and my tongue in her mouth. Mary is soon writhing against my hand and moaning into my mouth so I let go of her hair, and grab one of her rather beautiful breasts, find the nipple and squeeze hard, just as she likes, which causes her to moan louder in my mouth, extract my cock from my pants and stroke it frantically. It is at this moment that her phone pings. She jerks her head back.

"My taxi is waiting. I gotta go."

Before she can break free, I turn her around, bend her over the dining room table, I flip her skirt up and slide my cock into her wet pussy and we watch ourselves fucking in the huge mirror she insisted on fitting in the dining room.

"Don't come in me. Please. Otherwise I am going to dribble all over the taxi seat."

I grab her by the hips and proceed to slam my cock into her soaking pussy.

"Ah. Ah! Ah!" Mary is not slow to arouse or get to the point of orgasm. I see her neck start to flush, then her cheeks. Always a good indication that she is about to cum. As she starts of cum, I pump hot cum deep inside her. I hold her in place until I stop pumping cum - I haven't ploughed her field for a week due to her periods and Lindy wasn't available so I have a goodly load to pump into her. I pull out slowly making sure I leave every bit of cum in her pussy.

"Fuck! You bastard!" Mary, kisses my cheek, grabs her bag and heads to the door as her phone pings again. The taxi driver obviously getting annoyed. I clean up and then drive out into the country to my father's home where he attempts to live like a country gentleman. He has a butler, a chauffeur and a maid. All terribly faux. We do not see eye to eye on a number of topics, but he does insist on a visit once a month to ensure that I am still on the paths of righteousness. I attempt not to stray too visibly as he has threatened on various occasions to disinherit me and leave all his ill gotten gains to the local cats home.

I arrive with 5 minutes to spare to be greeted by the chauffeur.

"Good evening sir. Miss Mary not joining us this weekend?"

Hello, I think to myself maybe Daniel has been ploughing other fields, mine included which would also explain Mary's commentary on my fathers ability to service his women. Pillow talk. Interesting. Isadore takes my bag.

"You are in your usual room sir." She smiles happily as she oozes away. Mary was apparently correct about Isadore. Good. I need some good, rousing fucking this weekend.

Michael the butler greets me.

"Your father is in the drawing room sir."

I nod and head to where my father is waiting.

"You are late!"

"Good evening Father. I trust you are well."

"You stink of sex."

And here I was thinking that I had washed up sufficiently well to prevent him smelling it. Oh well.'

"My new deodorant, Father."

The butler arrives in time to disrupt that line of discussion. Hands me a glass of sherry and looks at my father.

"Dinner is ready to be served sir."

"Thank you. Michael."

He turns to me.

"Shall we go through? I do not know how you can drink medium cream sherry before dinner. Dry sherry is the only drink for an aperitif."

He is so fucking tiring, but he does have a lot of money that I will inherit if I behave so I smile vaguely and we troupe through to the dining room. Reinette already there looking just a scrumptious as she always does. She smiles at me in the vague dismissive way that she always does. No hope there I decide. The home fires seem to be well under control there with someone screwing her. Daniel maybe if my father isn't. A pity. I would love...

I kill the thought and during dinner we do the genteel thing of talking about the weather, the cricket and all things non contentious. Reinette is slightly more animated than usual, asking after Mary, about London and the shows I have seen, She seems as if she would like to be there rather than in

the country. A bit bored? Looking for the bright city lights? A bit of fun? Interesting thoughts drift through my mind.

I note with some interest that Isadore catches my eye more often than normal so maybe she sees a chance to score with me because Mary is not around. Looking at her makes me realise that she could be very yummy. When she clears the table, she slides a breast against my shoulder and makes a soft sighing noise. I think that is confirmation that tonight I will not lack for creature comforts.

Reinette retires early, as she always does and my father and I drink whiskey together and discuss all the forbidden topics. Politics, religion and sex. We actually start with sex.

"When are you going to marry Mary. Make an honest woman of her?"

Having seen her going off this afternoon, I doubt I could make an honest woman of her. She was on her way to a fuck fest and I had definitely not been invited.

"Soon, Father, soon. I must secure my place in the city. The markets have been a bit unstable and the firm is a bit nervous of any changes, including making me a partner. As soon as the stability improves, I am sure that they will. At which stage Mary and I will marry. She is very insistent that I be a partner before she will marry me."

"Bah. You haven't been making mess ups have you? Not like that fool who brought down an entire bank by guessing wrong."

"That was twenty years ago and controls are far more strict."

At which stage I have lost interest in the after dinner conversation. Also it is getting late and I want to get my hands on Isadore soon. There's one way end it quickly and that is through politics. So I dodge the religion topic and head straight into politics which I know will cause an argument which will result in my father stomping off to bed.

"The instability is also linked to Brexit. You know, the city is losing its place at the top of the table."

"Nonsense. All nonsense. Just an excuse to sabotage the process. We are far better off out of Europe."

The discussion becomes heated with my father doing most of the talking. Oh, sorry shouting. At fairly predictable point, he storms out of the room, shouting "Traitor!" I suspect that he is relieved to be able to storm out and get to bed reasonably early.

I finish my whiskey and head for my bedroom and not unexpectedly met Isadore in the passage way.

"Can I get you anything sir?"

"Yes. I would like some after dinner mints or anything sweet brought to my room at 11."

Isadore smiles like a wolf about to eat a tasty morsel.

"I have the very thing in mind sir. I will be there at 11 promptly."

It's just after 9 when I get to my room, undress, find a gown and sit in the dark watching the stars out of the huge bay window. One of the things I love most about this bay window is that it faces east and I can watch the stars rising in a relatively dark sky, so I positioned my self in a comfortable chair with the lights dimmed to an absolute minimum and glory in the beauty of the rising stars. I'm surprised when the I hear the door open softly as I am sure it cannot be 11 yet and I had told Isadore to come at 11 so that I could watch the stars for an hour or so. Soft footsteps creep up behind me and to my surprise a blindfold is stretched across my eyes. I open my mouth to speak but a hand is pressed across my mouth.

"Ssshhhh!" whispers a woman's voice so I sit still in silence,

Then my hands are tied gently behind the chair. When I am securely tied I feel movement and my gown is slowly pulled open and a hand takes my cock and starts to caress it into an erect state. The hand is soon replaced by a hot mouth and my cock swallowed down to the balls with a hand gently kneads my balls. When I reach a good solid hardness, my cock is used to stroke a hot, wet pussy, back and forth, back and forth. I assume my cock is being used to massage her clit.

Then my cock is pressed into the same pussy, slowly, luxuriously until I am fully engulfed.

"Ahhh." the soft voice moans gently and then the slow movement changes to a more rapid, urgent movement. The moans became more strident and louder. I work my right hand free and put my hand over her mouth, softening the sound of her moans. I hold on to my control as long as I can but a soft "Oh, my god!" breaks my control and I grab the woman with both hands and thrust deep into her until she comes and I pump upwards until I shoot hot cum into her. I realise that my visitor has to be Reinette. The small breasts and the slim narrow hips are dead give aways, but what really convinces me was that one accidental phrase. "Oh, my god." which was without doubt Reinette.

"I told Isadore not to come tonight. That tonight was my night." Definitely Reinette then.

After a short while she starts to get off of me but I trap her there then carry her to the bed. I touch her lips with mine then whisper.

"Wait while I lock the door."

When I get back she wraps herself around me, kissing me and rubbing herself against me.

I have found that small breasts are really sensitive and are a favourite of mine. Reinette's are small and are topped by large nipples so I feast on them, savouring not only the taste of them but the effect careful attention to them has on her. As I suck and bite on them her moans become louder and her movements become more and more frantic. By the time I get to eating her pussy, she is well on the way to another orgasm with soft whispers of "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Which makes me decide that now is the time to really fuck her hard. Our bodies make slapping noises as I thrust into her, both of us gasping at the build up. Then:

"Don't cum! I am so close."

Which is not the way to keep me under control and my tenuous grip on control faded like mist before the sun and I came, hard and fast.

"Fuck. Stay in me! Please. Don't pull out."

Fortunately I don't go soft immediately and stay hard until she cums with a loud gasp and shudder.

"You are good. Stayed hard for me. What a fuck!" She stays another few minutes then slips away.

I am on the patio. It is 7 am and I am feeling rather full of myself but Isadore is not happy and a bit brusque with me so I ignore her and get on with reliving the nights activities.

Ping. A message on my phone.

Paul Rove. The local blacksmith. WhatsApp message:

"You joining us for a pint this afternoon?"

"Of course. Would I miss? Will Angela be there?"

"Of course she will! See you 2:30! Usual place."

That interaction brightens up my day. Paul and Angela are great people. Angela and I have had a relationship for years. Just platonic. Nothing more. Paul had for some reason been insistent on that but it suited us just fine.

Ping. Email this time. From the genetics firm I had sent my DNA to. It lists my ancestry. Nothing unexpected. A bit of Russian, a bit of Anglo Saxon. A tiny bit of African of all things. Someone had obviously played fast and loose with an African a couple of centuries ago. That amuses me but what really surprises me is the large dollop of Welsh. No one in my immediate family had any Welsh connections. I shrug it off because I didn't pay too much for the assessment so inaccuracy was probably to be expected.

A note at the bottom is intriguing but probably also inaccurate too. To quote the note: "We have identified a person with very close ties to you. They have agreed to meet with you. Here are their contact details. Contact them if you want to or notify us and we will tell them you have declined to meet."

Fascinated, I send an acknowledgement and tell the company I will meet with the "near relative" as soon as possible.

Then I look at the cell number. It is strangely familiar. I copy it out of the email and dump it into the contacts app to save a new contact but the contact app throws up Paul Rove as the contact. What? I stare at the screen for a long time. How can Paul Rove be a close relative? Our beer this afternoon is going to be hilarious. The company had messed up badly but it would be fun to play with.

"Hi Paul! How you doing? Great to see you again. Boy do I have a story to tell you!"

Paul looks more serious than I have ever seen him. Maybe the only time I have seen him so serious was when he found Angela and I kissing after a party. He told us both off in a really serious manner.

"Where is Angela? Is she all right?"

"Angela is just fine. Don't worry. Just sit down and listen."

I look around to order a beer.

"No beer. Not yet. Listen to me first."

i sit. Curious.

"Did you get a letter from the genetics company telling you you have a close relative?"

"Yeah and it gave me your cell number. Crazy."

"No. Not crazy. Perfectly correct. The DNA was not mine though. It was Angela's. She brought the report to me to speculate who the close relative could be. I knew immediately who it was."

"Who?"

"It was you."

"Me? I am not related to you... "

Paul sat and watched as I thought about what he had said. My brain suddenly started throwing up information. Paul was Welsh. Angela would have gotten some of his Welsh DNA and I had that Welsh DNA. I took a deep breath. Looked at my hands, looked out the door and suddenly a lot of things made sense and I laughed.

"Do I have to call you Father?"

Seldom have I seen Paul short of words, but this time he just sits there looking at me.

"My so called father could not sire an heir so he got you to do it? And to save you asking, may I say that I thoroughly approve! Nothing could make me happier. And to find I have a sister into the bargain. Where is she?"

Paul looks across the bar and nods. Angela, my newly found sister gets up and walks towards us. I leap to my feet, hug her and said: "Hello sister!"

"Hello brother!" she says and burst into tears.

It turns into a drunken afternoon and I stagger home rather worse for wear with enough time to have a sleep and sober up in time for dinner. It is a tense meal, Father and I being especially polite to each other with Reinette being even more silent than she normally is. She does look at me a couple of times uncertain if I am going to blow the whistle on her.

After Reinette leaves us I tell my father what I had learned from Paul Rove. He goes red in the face, swears blind it was a lie and keeps on saying so until I show him the DNA report at which stage he leaps to his feet.

"I will disinherit you! See if I don't!"

After which he storms out of the room. A pretty standard end to our dinners.

As I leave the dining room, Isadore is hovering and hovering is the only way to describe her fight of flight attitude.

"That bitch! She ordered me away! I told her you were mine and she just laughed at me."

I try to keep a reasonably straight face.

"Can you please deliver something sweet this evening. Again at 11. I do not think we will be interrupted this time."

She blushes, smiles and nods, fleeing down the corridor. At precisely 11 "something sweet" arrives at my door. Isadore comes and stands in front of me and opens a thin filmy house coat.

"Sweet enough for you?"

I pick her up and carry her to the bed, with her giggling and running sharp fingernails up and down my back.

It is a tempestuous few hours, with laughter, lust and a wonderful feeling of something I have seldom felt before. Acceptance, care, joy and connectedness. It is an experience that will change my life entirely. When she gets up to leave, I don't want her to leave. I want her to stay, to sleep in my arms, to never leave me. She felt so right. I am terrified.

I lock my door ensure that Reinette doesn't arrive unexpectedly and I sit in the bay window thinking hard. Mainly about Paul Rove and Angela but also about Isadore and what had happened between us. After an hour or so there is a discreet knock on the door.

"Who is it?"

"Michael sir. May I ask you to come with me urgently?"

"Of course." I get to my feet, dress in some loose clothes and join Michael in the passage way.

"It's the Master Sir. Please come this way."

We enter my father's room without knocking. My father is sitting in a chair, unmoving, blue in the face and ice cold.

"He is dead sir." Michael remarks almost unnecessarily. "The doctor is on his way."

The doctor arrives, closely followed by and ambulance and the police.

The doctor declares my father dead and gives Reinette a sedative, the ambulance takes my father away and the police take statements. Not sure why, but they do.

"Cause of death?" The police sergeant asks the doctor, pen in hand.

"Looks like a massive coronary thrombosis. A stroke in layman's terms."

"No foul play then?"

"Not likely, but if you have any suspicions we will need to get a coroner do an autopsy."

"I'll let the brass make that call. Looks like a natural death to me, but Sir Thomas was a prominent figure in the community. Not well liked in some rougher elements but no sign of forced entry or violence."