His parents
have retired to a Villa in the Greek Islands and the six bedroom detached house
was left jointly to him and his brothers, Colin, two years younger, who lived
and worked in Australia, and Greg, two years older, who owned and ran a Hotel
in the Pepperstock Hills National Park, so Alex had the house to himself the vast
majority of the time.
He was 5ft
11, slim build with curly brown hair and by profession an illustrator,
children’s books mainly, though not exclusively and he had the summer house
converted into a studio from where he can work in peace, free of distractions,
the latter was particularly important as he was very easily distracted,
especially by women and his distraction of choice normally came in the form of
well covered peasantry, on the ample side of buxom, and he rarely strayed from
his sensual menu, and he had no romantic attachments.
That is
until the day he had his first encounter with Clarissa St
Claire, the girl next door, who arrived at his front door, in a state of
inebriation after one too many birthday drinks.
At the time
he didn’t welcome the intrusion because she was not his normal fare and ticked
none of his boxes, he liked a mature cuddlesome peasant wench, and Clarissa St
Claire was anything but, she was only 18, if the number on the balloon was of
any significance, absolutely beautiful, elegant, slim and petite, with a
perfect Carrington Chase educated voice.
Carrington
Chase being Downshire’s version of Roedean, although those in Downshire thought
it was the other way around, and it was a voice that made Charlotte Green sound
common.
However
despite that, a sexual encounter did take place between them in his lounge but
it didn’t go as far as she wanted it too, or as far as she planned for it to
go, she wanted him to take her virginity.
Which he
declined to do that night, though he agreed that he would when he thought she
was ready, and many other sexual interludes followed, until the day finally
arrived.
On the day of the planned deflowering of
Clarissa St Claire, Alex Monroe rose early though not in the “dawn horn” sense,
he rose early because he had a troubled night’s sleep, and the reason for that
was he was worrying about the letting Clarissa down.
Over the six weeks since the drunken ginger
nubile almost fell through the front door and he began the sullying process,
each one design to overcome her shyness, was leading ultimately to her
surrendering her virginity to him on that day.
But what troubled him was the distinct
possibility that he had over sold himself, and the event she had been looking
forward to so much, that she hoped would be a special experience that she would
remember for ever, but what if he had the opposite effect and he left her with
a horrible experience that she would want to instantly forget, or turn her off
sex for life.
So unable to sleep he got up and ran the bath,
the very same bath he shared intimately with Clarissa only two days before,
which he actually found quite therapeutic and strangely calming.
When he had finished in the bath he got out
and dried himself off, had an extra close shave, cleaned his teeth, applied
product to his hair and applied a liberal amount of aftershave and cologne,
then he dressed and went downstairs.
After a light breakfast he had made a pot of
tea, he thought coffee might exacerbate his stress, but in the end the tea
didn’t help, and nor did her failure to appear.
But given that it was still only ten past
seven it wasn’t as if she was exactly late, that being said he still found
himself skulking in in the hallway and periodically peering out through the
leaded glass window.
However, he had to prowl the hallway for a
full twenty minutes before he caught sight of a Carrington Chase schoolgirl
emerging from the shrubbery of the house next door and walking across his paved
driveway.
Clarissa was wearing her full school uniform
consisting of tailored claret blazer with pale blue trim, pale blue pleated
skirt, white blouse and a claret and blue neck tie, pale blue knee length
socks, and flat black shoes, her glorious ginger hair was in a French plait
topped off by a straw boater with the claret and blue band, and she was
carrying a sports bag.
He assumed the bag contained her underwear, a
change of clothes for that day and another outfit to wear after her overnight
stay, night clothes and her lotions and potions, and not her PE kit, although
he thought that might be quite nice.
But she was not walking as confidently as she
did when she purposely strode knickerless and braless across his lawn two days
earlier, her body language was totally different, her shoulder were hunched and
she was staring at the ground as she walked.
For the previous six weeks she had talked of
little else but losing her virginity to him, and she had been unable to contain
her excitement when he named the date for her deflowering, so he expected her
to be excited like a bounding puppy rather than looking like the condemned man
heading for the gallows.
His eyes followed the forlorn figure until she
reached the porch and as soon as she was out of sight, he stepped towards the
door in readiness to open the door as soon as the doorbell rang.
But it didn’t ring, not for a full two minutes
so he opened the door anyway and he found her sitting on the wooden seat in the
porch.
“Hello gorgeous” he said brightly, and she
lifted her head to look at him with sad eyes and she looked on the verge of
tears and he immediately knelt in front of her
“Whatever is the matter honey?” he asked and
in response she put her arms around his neck
“Is it the uniform? I’m so sorry, I should
never have made you wear it, I didn’t mean to upset you”
“It’s not that, I like it, it makes me feel
sexy” she said quietly
“You are sexy darling” he said “uniform or no
uniform”
“You make me feel sexy” she admitted and
squeezed his neck
“So what wrong?” he asked “did your family see
you dressed up?”
“No” she replied and laughed and then she
released her hold on him
“They all got very drunk after Presentation
Day so they’re all in bed still, probably won’t surface until lunchtime, I
didn’t drink as I wanted to keep a clear head for today”
Her face took on the sad expression again and
she tried to reattach to his neck but he took hold of her hands and kissed them
and said
“Come in the house and you can tell me what’s
upsetting you”
“Ok” she responded meekly, and he kissed her
sad mouth
Alex stood up and led her by the hand into the
house, pausing only to pick up her gym bag and to close the front door.
He put the bag on the hall table, and she
removed her boater and then he led her by the hand and they sat down on the
sofa, and still holding her hand he asked again
“Now tell me what the matter is honey”
“I’m scared” she said “about today”
“There’s no need to be scared” he reassured
her
“It doesn’t need to happen today”
“But I want it to happen” she said forcefully
“Ok but it doesn’t have to be with me” Alex
said
“Yes, it does” she snapped “and today”
“So why are you scared?” Alex asked
“I’ve had too much time to think I suppose”
She said “I couldn’t sleep, so I got up super early, and I started to worry and
now I’m scared”
“Of what?”
“That I won’t be any good” she confessed, and
Alex smiled
“It’s not funny” she snapped angrily
“It is” he explained, “because I’ve been up
since 5am worrying that you’ll be disappointed”
And they both laughed, and Clarissa hugged him
tightly.
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