3
'Yes, my Lord?' The housekeeper answered his call to her office on the first ring.
Lord Fairlea was in the private wing of his manor, in his study, resting after a long bracing walk around his woodlands. He had taken a shower and was standing naked in front of a mirror. He spoke into the intercom on his desk: 'Send up Eva, would you, please. Have her bring me a fresh bottle of brandy.'
'Yes, sir, right away.'
'And some fresh fruit.'
'Certainly sir. Will that be all?'
'Yes. To the study, please.'
'Yes, sir, she'll be right with you.' The call ended.
Within seconds the housekeeper had summoned Eva and given the instruction. The girl had been working at the manor for two years, since she reached eighteen. She had come from a nearby village where her parents could not give her work and had become bored of her demands. She had quickly taken to working at Fairlea and was very obedient. Just as Eva was about to head upstairs with the bottle of brandy and plate of fresh fruit, the housekeeper gave one last instruction. 'Don't forget how you must dress for his lordship. Take your time. Do what he commands.' The girl nodded, 'Yes, Miss.'
Jack had turned back to the mirror. He looked at his reflection. He was clean shaven -- face and head. His naked body was slim, muscular, though he did notice he was developing the inevitable paunch. It didn't bother him. In his late forties, he took life as it came, grateful for each day of life and love. And lust - most important of all. His desires were strong. For occupation, company, stimulation, exercise, food, drink, sex. Especially sex. His drive was extremely high, always had been. He had to climax at least a few times a day. So it was fortunate that the special rights associated with his manor gave him an endless supply of sexual partners and servants.
He looked further down his reflection. Below his waist, his sex was semi-erect, its usual state, rising stiff from its nest of dark curly hair. It didn't take much to stimulate his drive. The mere thought of his favourite housemaid, Eva, caused him to spring to attention. He looked at his swelling cock and plump balls. Already he could imagine enjoying her young body.
He slipped on a dressing gown, sat in his leather armchair. His desk was against the window. This chair, with a sofa opposite, was his preferred seating area, whether alone or entertaining -- or being entertained by one of his girls, his personal harem. There was a gentle knock at the door.
'Come!' He remained in his chair.
The door opened. The young woman stepped in, carrying a tray.
'Good evening, my Lord.'
'Ah, Eva, good evening.' He stood and smiled at her. 'Come, over here.'
He watched as she approached. She avoided eye contact, which he found slightly disappointing, as he loved her hazel eyes. Her honey-brown hair was worn long, held up by an Alice band. She was barefoot, wearing a short black skirt. Her chest was bare. This was a rule: any girl serving in his private rooms must be topless. As she approached, the tray she was carrying obscured her breasts. He really must teach her to make eye contact and reveal herself appropriately.
'Put the tray down on the drinks table. And pour me a brandy, would you?'
