Michael White had been working in Los Angeles as an associate script
writer since graduating from University and hadn’t been back to Mornington for
4 years but he had become disillusioned with the American Dream and was
relocating back to Downshire while it was easy to do before any fresh romantic
entanglements over complicated matters and furthermore once back in the UK he
planned to stay put.
In the short term he was going to stay at his parents in the small country village of Mornington-By-Mere
which lies in the Finchbottom Vale that nestles between the Ancient Dancingdean
Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.
It is a quaint picturesque village, a proper chocolate box picturesque
idyll, with a Manor House, 12th Century Church, a Coaching Inn,
Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.
But Mornington-By-Mere is not just a quaint chocolate box
English Village it is the beating heart of the Finchbottom Vale.
He loved the Vale and planned to make his home there in one of the
villages but for now 26 year old Michael was moving back to his childhood home
at number 2, The Close, with his parents and two younger brothers.
But for the first week or so he had the place to himself because the
rest of the family were away in the
Canaries.
His flight was delayed
so by the time he got to their house it was after three o’clock and he was
surprised to see there were signs of life in the house, he assumed he must have got his
dates wrong as he parked his car on the drive and went inside not knowing who
or what was inside.
But as he went in all was quiet, so he left his case in the hall and
went into the kitchen and opened the fridge.
When he had opened his beer he opened the door and made his way outside
and as he stepped out onto the patio the sun emerged from behind a cloud and
flooded into the garden and he did a double take.
In the centre of the patio was a sun lounger which was exactly where he
would have expected it to be, but that was not what surprised him.
What had got his attention, directly in front of him perfectly illuminated
on the lounger, was the most beautiful curvaceous figure of a young woman.
It was not a figure he was very familiar with, as far as he could
recollect, it certainly wasn’t his mum’s or anyone else he would have expected
to find in his parents garden, but it was a delicious figure.
But whoever the owner of it was she was laying in the foetal position on
the lounger with her back to him, partially covered by a pashmina.
Michael stepped backwards into the kitchen and glanced around the room
which confirmed to him that it was indeed his parents’ home and then he went
back out again.
The figure still remained illuminated by the sunlight as he walked over
to the lounger, his first instinct was to give it a firm slap on the bum and
wake up its owner and tell her to get out of his garden but instead he found
himself giving the girl an intense perusal, beginning with the honey blonde
hair that shimmered under the sun’s rays, as they sat randomly against her
lightly tanned skin.
He couldn’t see enough of her face to form an opinion as to countenance
or appearance so his eyes travelled in the opposite direction following the
topography of her well-toned form, her back, her waist her hips and of course
her firm buttocks.
He spent a long time studying that particular feature, the sweeping
curve of her hip and the roundness of her buttocks, which he thought would be
undoubtedly fleshy.
His eyes hungrily consumed every inch of her of every contour slowly
exploring every aspect of its delicious shape.
It was as his eyes were moving along the lengthy thighs of her gorgeous
legs that the girl began to stir and she murmured in her half sleep as she began to stretch out in wakefulness and
rolled over onto her back which opened up a fresh expanse of her terrain for
his eyes to explore and then her eyes opened and she gasped in surprise.
“Ohhhh Michael” she exclaimed “What kept you?”
And with that she reached up and gripped at
his shirt and pulled him towards her and then she kissed him.
The moment she rolled over he knew the
identity of the intruder, Kathryn Williams who lived next door at number 1, she had been running
after him since she was 9 and he was in year ten, but she was a skinny freckly
klutz and even if there hadn’t been the insane age gap she did nothing for him,
well it appeared that she had grown up while he was away at University and in
America and with a little mental arithmetic he ascertained she was now 20.
And as she was kissing him he determined that she certainly did
something for him now.
Kathryn had fallen in love with Michael White on the occasion of her 9th
Birthday when he kissed her cheek and she had dreamed of capturing his heart
every day after that.
She was patient and was not perturbed by his time at University she just
bided her time while she grew up, she tried on other young men for size as she
did so but they never measured up.
However his decision to move to California was unexpected and heart breaking
in equal measure, but she never gave up hope and when his mum Louise mentioned
that he was coming home for good and that he would be staying in Mornington for
a while she decided to seize her chance.
She innocently gleaned more information from the White family and when
it became apparent that he would be in the house on his own she planned her
honeyed trap.
She casually obtained the flight details from his Dad and volunteered
her services to Louise to water her house plants which gave her access to the
house and her plan was set.
However, what she hadn’t accounted for was a three hour flight delay,
which was why she fell asleep on the lounger and because she had fallen asleep
in the warm sunshine she dreamed of him, so when she awoke and he was standing
over her she took it as a sign and struck and the way he was returning her kiss
she knew she had him.
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