posted on Mar, 3 2007 @ 06:49 PM
Tuesday 12 1947
Lord’s Connor Manor
He was preoccupied above his papers. His desk was full of them stretching from the one corner to the other, hiding the fine oak wood it was made of.
When he bought it was an excellent piece of art made by a craftsman in England in honour of his father, although it would have been expensive he paid
a small worth of good workmanship. The library behind him was giving an austere gust but a very refined taste for the classical furniture.
Leather-fasten were all of his books and some were lightly inclined proclaiming that some had been removed from their ornamental place and thrown down
to the brown tapis floor after they had served their purpose.
The pendulum clock sounded two hours after midnight. It was heavy raining outside and the fireplace was off. The moisture and the faded light from his
reading lamb were giving a hazy atmosphere running a blue colour to the rest of the room. He didn’t care about cold, or dark. In fact, he didn’t
care about anything except from finishing his work. It was his father’s heritage towards him a few moments before exhaling his last breath. A
rumbling of thunder might have fallen inside Manor’s yard making so much noise that awakes him from his work. He put out his glasses and cleaned his
lens. He noticed a figure sitting inside the armchair in front of the fireplace. He put his glasses on and surprisingly figured out he was right. It
was dark and the only thing he could see was his hand from the light rays of his reading lamb.
-Have a wine with me Mr. Connor. Your cellar is very famous for its Burgundian wines, said most passionately for a woman the mysterious figure
wobbling the shaped like pillar glass.
James noticed that all this time she had suit herself without taking her notice.
-And although you hospitality is somewhat pathetic, it provides all the appropriate facilities for a nice accommodation, isn’t it Mr. Connor, she
-How did you get into my home and who the hell are you, madam?
-Men, they always go deep to the meaning, haven’t you ever tried to be more…
-…wait a minute, back off, what for earth’s shake are you talking about? You know, I have never tried even for a though to break into someone’s
house and present myself like nothing bad have happened.
He got up and approached the armchair hoping he could secern her characteristic, but in vain. The angle was in such position that light was unable to
light her face. She seams to know exactly what she was doing so he decided not to provoke her.
-I am here because of my employer, Mr Connor. Apparently, my employer seams to show a special interest for your work.
-How do you know about my work?
Suddenly, he remembered his father’s words.
-Don’t you know Mr Connor? Your father…
-Cease to pretend that you don’t know Mr Connor; a scholar of your kind understands precisely where our little discussion is being routed, or am I
-What are you trying to tell me?
She got up, walked towards him revealing her slender silhouette moving her thighs in a tremendous sulphurous movement. While approaching he noticed a
fur swaddling her thin neck and at the same time leaving open her body from her neck down above her tits to his eyes. Her hands and belly were wearing
a cherry skintight cloth but with a gap between her cherry trousers and jacket. More lusciously, her all-the-leg cherry boots made his face red from
perspiration revealing a gap of flesh. Her face still couldn’t be seen.
-… hum, hum, Mr Connor, she said leaving a deep but short sigh making his crotch grow bigger, I wish I had to devote more time with you, but I never
involve personal time in my job. You will find my employer in this address.
When he tried to get the piece of paper from her hand, he felt it was peculiarly warm. She holds her fingers still while he was mellowly taking his
owns with the piece of paper from her.
James tried to retain himself.
-ye, ye… yes?
-Relax, I don’t bite, she smiled delivering a blink of the eye full of meaning.