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The Hamptons in Summer time is great. At least, it is if you have lots of money. Mike Robertson didn’t have lots of money, but he never the less found himself in Easthampton from Memorial Day to Labor Day each year.

He found himself there because of his job, as a Butler to wealthy couple, Mr most of his summer clothing was kept out here, as, indeed was his beloved BMW motorcycle. After showering and changing, Mike decided that it was time to eat. He fired up the bike, and headed west on Route 27 to his favorite restaurant, one of the few within the range of his expense account.

As he entered the familiar building, the Hostess, Christina, looked at him, and suddenly her face broke into a smile of recognition.

“Mike!” she said, “Where have you been all winter? We’ve missed you.”

“Missed my expense account, you mean.” Replied Mike with a grin. “Do you have a table for one?”

Christina glanced around the room in which three or four of the thirty tables were occupied.

“I think I can squeeze you in.” she said, and grabbing a menu led Mike across the room to a table by the wall, where he liked to sit and people watch as he ate. As he followed Christina across the room, his eyes were drawn to her shapely rump as she swayed her hips provocatively. “No VPL,” he thought as he eyed the tight fitting skirt in front of him, “either a thong, or no panties at all, the saucy minx.” Christina sat him down, and handed him the menu. As she bent forward to point out which items were not available, Mike was treated to a delightful view of the valley between her luscious breasts, which were just restrained by the tight black top that she wore. As always, Mike raised his eyes to meet hers, and noted the teasing smile on her face. “So, Chrissy, what are doing after you finish work tonight?”

“You know perfectly well,” she said. “I’ll be taking the Chef upstairs for night of passion and romance. I’ll send your waitress over.” Mike sighed wistfully as Christina, joint owner, together with her chef husband, of the restaurant sashayed her way back to the door.

Mike looked at the Şerifali Escort familiar menu, as a waitress came over. “Good evening, my name is Erica, and I’ll be your server this evening. Can I start you off with something to drink?” Mike ordered a Martini, and discreetly eyed the waitress as she busied herself at the bar. Short, slender and – he noticed – no wedding band. He thought there might be a little fun to be had flirting with this girl as the summer went on. Erica brought his drink, and stood ready to take his order. After he had done ordering, she gazed at him thoughtfully and asked, “Are you from England?”

“Yes” replied Mike, “I am.”

“Isn’t that something!” exclaimed Erica. “You’re the second English person I’ve served tonight. An Englishwoman was in earlier. She works as a Housekeeper for some rich folks who’ve rented a house for the summer, and she came out early to get everything ready.”

Mike found this interesting, but didn’t give it any further thought until he arrived back at the Restaurant for his dinner the next evening.

“Hey, welcome back!” said Christina. “You want to meet somebody from your own country?”

“Why not?” said Mike and she led him to his usual table. Seated at the next table was a woman in her late twenties or early thirties. Reddish hair tied back in a pony tail, a dusting of freckles over her nose, and a voluminous sweatshirt with the words, “Vail Mountain Resort” written on it were all he could see above the table. Mike nodded a brief greeting to her, and sat down to peruse the all too familiar menu. The woman spoke, in a gentle Irish brogue, “Could you tell me what’s good? They tell me you’re a regular here.”

“Well, it’s all pretty good. I like the Clam Chowder and the Duck Breast.”

“If you recommend it, I’ll try it.”

“Erica said you were English, but I can tell you’re Irish. These Americans can’t tell one accent from another! I gather that you work as a Housekeeper – is that nearby? How did you come to be working in the States? Whereabouts are you from? I’m Mike, by the way.”

Mike realized that he was Üsküdar Escort gabbling, but found the woman vaguely enticing, as her blue eyes sparkled at him above the menu.

“Well now, there’s a lot to be answering in one go and on an empty stomach. Just give me a wee minute to get a drink and order some food! ”

They ordered their drinks and meals, and little was said as they ate and concentrated on their food. As they settled with their coffee, the woman moved sideways to sit opposite Mike at his table.

“Saves shouting.” she said, “Now, what was it you were asking me? Ah, yes, well my name is Siobhan, I’m Irish, as you noticed, and originally I’m from a little place not far from Kilarney. I first came over here 10 years ago as a student, and spent the summer on working on the Hampton Jitney. I met a guy whilst I was working, and we had a wee fling, and I found that I was pregnant. We got married, and then when I was six months gone we had a road accident in the February snows, and I miscarried. It was never the same after that, and we stayed together just long enough for me to get my Green Card and then we split. I moved to New York City, and started to do a bit of cleaning to make ends meet. One of the people I worked for offered me a permanent job when their maid left, and then when their daughter got married a year or so back she offered me a job as House Manager. I run their town house, and as they’ve rented a house out here this summer, I’ve come out a bit ahead to make sure everything’s ready.

There you are, my life story! Your turn, Michael.”

Mike took a deep breath, and began to tell his story. He had grown up in southern England, and had joined the Royal Navy as an officer’s Steward. After 10 years, he was a Chief Petty Officer, responsible for running the wardroom in a big shore establishment. He was considering signing on again, when he saw a job advertisement for the Royal Household. He called an old shipmate who was, by then, serving in the Royal Yacht, and, following his advice, applied for the position. After a number of fairly testing interviews, Ümraniye Escort he was offered a job as Footman in the household of a “minor” member of the Royal Family, who lived in a “Grace and Favour” apartment in one of the London palaces. He found that there was a high turnover of staff, as the Lady of the house was very demanding. Before long, as people left, he found himself an Under Butler, but increasingly unhappy. Not only was Her Royal Highness a very difficult woman to work for (her husband was easy going enough) but he found it increasingly difficult as the only “straight” member of the household. He made discreet enquiries, and signed up with a number of agencies who said that they would have no difficulty in placing him

Within a week of leaving the Palace, one of the agencies called and offered him a job interview. It was for a limited period, and was for an American couple who needed somebody to look after them as they stayed in London to be near their eldest daughter, who was in a hospice as she was suffering from Leukemia. After seven months, the daughter died, and Mike took care of all the arrangements to ship her body home and went back to New York with Mr she stood up and began to fumble with her belt buckle. Mike stood, and as his robe fell open at the front he helped her with the her shorts. As he slid them from her hips, he could feel his erection squeezed between their stomachs as he fondled her naked buttocks. Siobhan slid her hand between them, and gripped his penis, sighing. They moved a little apart, and Siobhan led him by the penis through to her bedroom. As he shrugged off the bathrobe, she stripped off her thong and stood before him. They gazed at one another for a moment. He took in her small, pert breast with the now rock hard nipples rising and falling as she breathed, her smooth white stomach and the wild triangle of ginger hair at the top of her shapely legs. In turn, she looked at his firm body, hairy chest and the thin line of hair leading down from his navel, which was almost concealed by the seven inch erection that sprouted from the mass of dark hair at his loins. As they closed once more and kissed, he felt the coarse scratch of her pubic hair against his glans, now partially exposed as his erection began to outgrow his foreskin. Gently, he pushed her back against the bed, and lowered her down.

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