CHAPTER 3) First Meeting
The beautiful young woman fled through the door and onto the lush acreage of the back lawn. She simply couldn’t remain in the house with Lord Albert another second! His coldness, his cruelty, his indifference were more than she could bear. And to think that she had loved him so! Yes, loved him with a burning passion that was never acknowledged, never returned. She’d been his wife for three years now and had finally accepted the fact that he would never, ever change.
She turned toward the sound of a motor rumbling in the distance and ran desperately toward it. She ran and ran, down a slope and past a stand of trees until the house was no longer visible. She ran until she was alongside the strapping young landscaper riding the lawnmower like it was a magnificent stallion.
He was so intent on his work that he did notice her at first. Then he looked over at her and a startled expression appeared on his breathtakingly handsome face. He took his foot off the gas pedal and the machine came to a halt. He shifted into Neutral.
“Hello, ma’am,” he said in a deeply masculine voice, “what can I do for you?”
“You can do a lot for me,” she panted.
He reached for the ignition key, so as to shut off the throbbing motor.
“No, leave it on,” she said, “I like it better this way.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
A long, unbearable moment passed, one filled with desperate longings. He couldn’t tear his eyes from hers. She had an almost hypnotic beauty, and her charm filled the whole word. Dared he hope?
“Um ... where is His Lordship?” he asked.
“Back in the house, with his dead pursuits,” she replied.
She’d recovered from her sprint across the vast lawn, but she was panting for a different reason now. Suddenly, brutally, and without warning, she seized his manhood with a groping hand. It sprang to life, throbbing and pulsing along with the lawnmower engine. The landscaper groaned passionately, melting under her ardent caress.
Then she was atop the lawnmower, atop its rider – riding the rider! Discarded clothing littered the ground as they coupled madly. With each thrust she made, the landscaper’s foot jerked against the gas pedal, retreated, jerked again. The engine responded with passion equal to that of the frenzied lovers.
ba-rooOOOOM! ba-rooOOOOM!
[Carlita had to switch out the type ball to a larger font for the final OOM! She snapped the first one back in and continued writing.]
Seated at his huge writing desk back at the mansion, Lord Albert wondered vaguely what the noise outside could be about. He chose not to bestir himself. It was just that young fool of a groundskeeper jerking around with some machine or other. Not worth bothering about.
Little did Lord Albert realize the danger he was in. He merely tamped the tobacco down in his pipe, relit it, and went back to writing the letter to his mistress.
Carlita paused, sweaty and agitated. Damn – this had the makings of another best seller!
She rolled the paper back up to the top line, whited out the “3,” and typed a “1” in its place. This scene was way too hot to delay. Her readers would never forgive her for making them wait.
There would be many more scenes like it, too; her imagination was full of them. Then there were the inspirations to be gained from the real world drama of the Armstrong clan. Who could say what would happen there next?
Yes ... this promised to be quite a novel. It remained to be seen if art mirrored reality, or if it was the other way around.