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The one thing more potent than her zesty juices that rained over my face to soak my dirty blonde locks, was the way she cussed.There was something about the manner in which Minty swore that turned me on. When driven by desire alone, there was no pretence. No aristocratic role to fulfil. Nobody to impress except me, grinding her perfectly smooth, wet sex against my mouth as if pleasure was the only thing in the world that mattered.Disturbed dust particles from the floor of the hayloft danced in the golden evening sun streaming through the wood battened frame behind her auburn tresses that swirled with each gyration. The halo gave her the appearance of an angel, though I knew she was everything but. Knew what profanity could tumble from those Cupid’s bow lips. Knew how to make her scream my name.Rhythmic visions of her dainty fingertips pinching and tweaking the bumps of her boobs came and went as she treated me to the electrifying mouth rodeo. As her actions intensified and thighs tensed against my head, a gasp followed. Then a single word, uttered with clarity that took my breath away.”Fuck.”A perfect strut vowel, cut glass British, honed through years of elocution lessons to prepare her. To impress the dignitaries and diplomats and suitors that would one day kiss her hand as she curtseyed the way a Disney princess might. And I’d sullied the vowel. Driven her to surround it with consonants her parents would be horrified to hear pass her lips. Words reserved solely for me. Our dirty secret.As I feasted on her fluttering folds, her shiny clitoris nestled against my nose, the floodgates truly opened. I could barely keep up, gulping buttery honey that drooled from her heavenly shaved slit, accompanied by hissed fragments of dirty posh. Every syllable made me adore her more.”Yes, Lisa. Drink every drop.”She went on to implore me, like no future queen should, to lick her dripping cunt. So filthy. So decadent. My own juices leaked onto the patchwork blanket beneath us in response. When I sighed and squeezed my legs together, I seemed almost as drenched as her.We writhed together as her words blurred, turning to staccato squeals that I knew I had to silence for fear of drawing unwanted attention. Though we had taken more risks over the months as we learned one another’s bodies – hands lacing under the table at dinner, a stolen French kiss in the pantry that Chef nearly discovered – we still had to be careful. Any report from a curious employee and we would be ripped apart.I dove my fingers down my body, curling inside, gasping against her at the sudden intrusion then brought them out, the glistening wetness beginning to cool instantly. I snaked them upwards, seeking her mouth, lips hungrily enclosing the pair of invading digits, muffling her moans around them.She forced her pelvis down onto my face in a series of crushing rotations and froze as a long wail escaped to the rafters before she bit my fingers to quell it and sucked my juices from them, hard.Although the pattern of her orgasm was familiar, it never ceased to excite me. A tightening of her body was the prelude, sinewy muscles clamping me, the only motion her quivering pussy lips jammed against my tongue, hidden to the outside world. Not even a breath escaped, as if she had become a plaster cast.I loved how vulnerable she felt in that moment; when her garrulous self-assurance evaporated, and she was stripped bare. Naked. Raw. Poised. Chin dipped and totally mine, just for an instant.If I had the composure I could probably count backwards from five before her burst of exhalation, but never did. I always savoured the calm, transfixed by the way her lips curled apart to reveal that sexy little gap between her front teeth, the fire in her eyes as intense as the first time I tasted her, barely months after her mother introduced us:”Araminta, this is Lisa,” she had said as the girl brought her chestnut mare to a whinnying standstill. “Our new stable hand.”The girl confidently swung her leg over the horse’s back and hopped from the stirrup, unclipping her riding helmet and shaking out the longest mane of hair I had ever seen. I simply gawped at her beauty, a hollow nervousness Beşevler escort bayan carving out its presence in my belly.Of course I had seen pictures of her in magazines, hair pinned, slender neck draped in diamonds worth more than a penthouse apartment with a view of the Thames. But in the flesh and without makeup, she was spellbinding. Petite, rakish yet achingly feminine, she strode confidently with a fluidity that would put a forest waterfall to shame, leading the horse by a delicate hand on its bridle.I was always told I had pretty eyes but hers were like the centre of a chocolate liqueur. As she approached, my mouth dried and panic rose, terrified I would say something foolish and make an awful first impression. Instead, I bowed, which was probably worse. It made her giggle. She reached out as I straightened, a thrill coursing my spine at the brush of her skin, making me flush even redder.”Pleased to make your acquaintance, Lisa.””Uhhh, you too, Araminta.”She seemed to glow within the smile, holding my gaze as she looped the reins over her horse’s head and handed them to me. “You will take good care of Alexa, I am certain.”I blinked, and she either caught my train of thought or was used to the reaction, an impish grin flashing. “We bought her before Amazon ruined the name.”I nodded, embarrassed all the same, and gently tugged the reins. “Come on, Alexa,” I sing-songed, adding a click of my tongue to make the universal ‘giddy up’ gesture. The mare stayed put and Araminta gave a wry smile.”Get to know her first. Stroke her here.” She demonstrated against the leathery skin of the horse’s neck and I followed her instruction, the short hair bristling beneath my fingertips. “And to earn trust, let her smell you.” She ran her palm to the horse’s nose and I copied, letting the snuffling animal acquaint itself.Our hands grazed once more and warmth flooded me. I had not crushed on a girl so quickly and so hard since Fran. And I had screwed that up royally by being too clingy. Like a ruddy clip-on koala she yelled as she stormed from the café and my life. I drew my hand away like Araminta was kettle steam and she cocked her head.”Are you alright?””Yes. I just…”Her lips formed a smile I wanted to kiss forever, tongues taking turns to voyage into uncharted territory as our bodies met, lightly at first then firmer. God I wanted to run my fingers through her amazing hair. Take my time exploring. Finding every scrap of skin that made her shiver, that took her breath away. I shook my head and swallowed. She was royalty for goodness sake. Practically married to some Prince Charming with the most land, chosen by her parents. Imagine the scandal!”Try again,” she encouraged.It took me a moment to come to my senses. “Of course. Come on, Alexa.” I tugged the reins and the horse happily sauntered forward. Pleased, I called over my shoulder, “Thank you, Araminta.”She fell in step, leaning in close enough I could smell her exotic fragrance that was probably custom designed, her voice a whisper. “Call me Minty. Just not in front of mother.”Our eyes met and I nodded, parroting, “Minty,” allowing the letters to roll from my mouth.She slowed. “I need to shower. Will you be joining us for supper?””I- I am not sure.””Then I shall make sure. Gerard will set you a place. Seven o’clock.”Before I had time to ask what I should wear, she had scampered off and I watched her shrink into the distance.Leading Alexa into the tack room, I untacked and groomed her. She was spirited, but manageable and I was confident we would get along fine after a few sessions. Tucking her up for the evening with some fresh bedding, I headed back to my little cottage just outside the fringes of the Parr’s sprawling estate. Technically it was Daddy’s holiday cottage, but he let me use it since it was convenient until I earned the privilege of staying on-site.I choked down a slice of buttered bread and contemplated my wardrobe. Googling what the elite wore to supper was little help. Nothing matched; too casual, too formal, too gymwear. I tried what felt like fifty outfits, eventually opting for the first: the light blue summer dress. Escort Çankaya Snug and chic, it clung to my frame, a hint of cleavage between which I hung a Pandora heart charm and dabbed some Liz Earle. Kitten heel sandals finished the look and I felt satisfied enough as I twirled in the mirror and let the dress settle around my bare legs.Turns out I had chosen well. Araminta greeted me at the heavy door of the stately home in a flowing jade skirt and stripy camisole, a delicate cream cardigan to finish, hair piled up and pinned except for a few stray twists that framed her symmetrical features. She leaned in and gave me the French double-cheek kiss, at which I flushed, despite knowing it was a mere formality.”Love that dress, Lisa! Who is it? Stella McCartney? Victoria Beckham?””Uhhh,” I racked my brain. “Top Shop.”She paused then burst out laughing and stepped aside to let me enter. “You are so funny.”The hallway alone was probably the size of my cottage, all chequered marble flooring and flock wallpaper with canvas portraits flanking two curved staircases that led to an ornate balcony. Daddy had money thanks to his portfolio, but this was something else.”Wow, Ara… Minty.””Have you not seen the place?”I shook my head. “Mrs. Parr conducted the interview in the summer house.””Then I shall treat you to the tour later. But now,” she slipped her hand in mine and dragged me left, “supper.”Her warmth made my heart flutter. I wanted her touch to mean so much more than the innocence with which it was intended. All through dinner around the oak table, amid bone china and strained conversation with her parents on topics way above my pay grade, I found myself drifting into daydreams involving Minty’s flawless body against mine. Her lips sculling my skin as I stroked her flowing hair and urged her to explore. I am sure at least once she caught me staring at her lips, cocking her head and offering a soft smile. I quickly averted my gaze to the pheasant terrine.At one point, greying Mr. Parr turned to me and coughed politely, wiping his mouth on a linen serviette. “So, Lisa, tell me. When did you become interested in horses?”I cleared my throat behind my fingertips. “My parents bought me Jasmine for my ninth birthday.””Ahhh, a fine gift.” He twisted the tip of his silvery moustache into a point. “You still have her?”I nodded. “I ride whenever I am not studying.””Good. Good. What do you read?”I blinked. “Mainly romance novels and poetry. But I love mysteries.”It was his turn to blink and my heart sank as I realised it was not the answer he was expecting. “My dear, I meant at university.” His pronunciation of the final syllable was more teh then tee.”Oh. I do not attend university yet. Next year perhaps, depending on my results.””Really? I thought you were a trifle older than Araminta.””No, sir.” I blushed. “We are the same age.””Jolly good. I trust you will get along famously. Araminta spends far too much time alone and needs the company for her social development. The last few farm girls have been frightfully below par.””Father! Lisa is not a farm girl. She tends to the horses.” She turned sharply to me with an apologetic eye roll.Mr. Parr smoothed his moustache against his upper lip once more. “Quite.”Minty blew out in exasperation. “If you have finished insulting our staff, may we leave the table?”Sir Richard gave a dismissive wave. “Certainly. I shall retire to the studeh. Keep the mischief down.”Minty stood, chair scraping back on the opulent tiles. “Come on Lisa, let me show you the house.”She grabbed my hand and I only just had time to toss my serviette onto the table before she whisked me from the dining room, back into the hallway, sweeping me up the stairs in the wake of her tantalising bottom that wiggled in the skirt.Breathless, we stood overlooking the majestic hall. “Sorry about Father, he can be a little…” she tailed off.”Traditional?”A slow nod.I touched her shoulder. “Never mind. I will be the best farm girl, I promise.”Her eyes slid to mine. “I have no doubt.”We stayed that way a beat before she backed away playfully and beckoned me to give chase.And chase I did.As the weeks progressed, Cebeci escort Minty and I became firm friends. Baked muffins. Played chess. Watched movies and re-enacted scenes from them in the parlour, invariably ending up a giggling mess at her terrible attempt at American accents. We also took rides in and around the grounds and woods together, with me on Jasper, their hot-blooded Norman Cob.I ached for Minty. Every touch of our skin, every lungful of air that carried wisps of her essence into my body, made me want her more. Pure lust. But I knew her situation. Her limits. The expectations of her role as future heir to the throne required my thoughts and desires remain locked away, despite how difficult it was to keep the lid on.Hot days and hotter nights blurred as spring gave way to the yawning stretch of summer, fingers my only company in bed, dusting my skin as I imagined it was Minty’s hair on my abdomen. Her breath condensing across my sensitive breasts and their crinkled, firm caps. Kissing my neck, trailing south as my libido ignited and legs parted to accept her eager exploration.My fingers acted as surrogate, dipping inside moistening folds, sighs escaping as our imagined union filled every corner of my mind, wetness forming until it coated my digits and made my thighs sticky. Until I drove myself to clutching, gasping completion in the darkness, time and again, alone yet with her, yearning for far more.She was naturally flirtatious with the young men in her parents’ employ, and those that visited. I suspected her status helped wrap them all around her finger, always eager to impress. Yes Araminta, of course Araminta. Reduced to a mere observer, it made me mad – jealous – that I could see they were only after her power, even if she could not. But despite the coquetry, she remained professionally distant to them all. Daringly alluring, yet delicately aloof.I wanted to be the only thing in her spotlight. To dazzle her. So many times I could have blurted out my feelings. So many times I stopped myself. I yearned to test the boundaries of our friendship but feared it would bring the walls crashing down, so I remained neutral and kept myself in check.Until one afternoon.We returned from a ride in the sun-kissed woods and she uncharacteristically stayed with me in the tack room as I tended to the horses, leaning back against the wall by the door. With riding helmet dangling in one hand by her thigh, she simply watched me.I finished grooming the animals and began hanging the accessories, catching her eye. “We could do with some music while I work.””Yes! I shall ask Jacob to run some electricity out here. He would do it if I asked nicely.””He would do it if you were un-nice.”She grinned. “True.”I smiled back. “We can improvise in the meantime.” I called over my shoulder, “Alexa, play Beethoven.”The horse snorted and stamped its foot.I giggled. “Must be a remix.”Minty laughed. An effortless chuckle that made my heart soar.I hung the remaining gear and held out the final item for her to take and stow on the hook by the split door. She reached for the riding crop and tugged it but I had the leather loop wrapped around my wrist, allowing her instead to drag me into her space.”Oops,” I whispered, my heart thumping so loud I feared she would hear it. She smelled amazing and our eyes locked, a little over a foot between us. I let the loop slither from my wrist and her hand dropped to her side, but she did not move away.Tipping my head a little to one side, I smiled. “You have a twig in your hair.”I reached up and gently dislodged it, allowing the object to fall to the straw-strewn floor. But I kept my hand alongside her head, scooping a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. My heart jumped at the touch, goose bumps forming from the contact point, travelling up my arm and across my breasts.My nipples firmed, breathing deepened and I murmured, “You are so beautiful, Minty.”Something registered in her eyes that I could not place. Excitement. Panic, perhaps. An involuntary shake of her head that could have meant no or please. Almost on autopilot I closed the distance to a few inches, drawing breath, mouth parting, the backs of our hands on one side skimming, and before I could stop myself, our lips connected. Tenderly at first, then I pressed slightly firmer and felt her mouth move against mine. Just a fraction. Warmth swelled in my body at her reciprocation but she twisted her face to one side and I pulled back, heart wrenching.

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