The estate was a sprawling plantation-style affair. It seemed as though the builders had tried their best to create a small village. Despite the rural location, the buildings that dotted the grounds were all perfectly maintained. Rena could feel Crystal relax a notch at the sight of it. Despite her research, she had been nervous.
Two other cars, identical to the one that they were riding in, were pulling up to the round driveway ahead of them. A pale, curvy woman with raven hair stepped out of the first car. Interesting, thought Rena, I wouldn't peg her as the erotica type. Of course, I doubt she would guess about me.
Out of the second came a kid- light reddish hair, thin and tall. That one's all freckles and pig-tails. Maybe this isn't an erotica retreat? The car pulled up. It was time to make an entrance.
Rena popped open the door and stretched her high heeled foot out, pointing her toe at the asphalt drive. She stepped out and stretched her body long, showing off her thin waist and generous tits. Crystal scootched out of the car and automatically went for the bags.
A young man hustled up to the car and took them out of her hands, pausing only to drink in Rena's display.
“I'll take care of your bags. The Retreat Master is waiting for you inside.”
He was young, maybe twenty five, but he was fine looking. Rena had never been big on men, but this young buck had a hungry look in his honey-colored eyes. Rena had often wondered about the legendary attributes of a black man. Maybe...No, she couldn't let herself think that.
The Retreat Master
Melissa walked onto the columned porch and quietly pushed the front door open. She had hoped that she wouldn't be the first one to walk in, but the black haired woman that had arrived before her seemed to be too busy on her cell phone enumerating a long list of very specific instructions to whoever was unlucky enough to be on the other end. A third car had just pulled up, but neither of the ladies seemed in much of a rush to get inside.
Melissa didn't want to just stand there. Plus, she really had to pee.
Opening the door just enough to slip through, she ducked in and tip-toed through the foyer, peering at the many doors that lined the walls. Which one might lead to relief? The distraction of her bladder must have been why she missed him standing in the corner.
“Hello, Melissa. I'm pleased you were allowed to come.”
The young blonde swung her head around, angry at the suggestion that she needed permission to do anything. Anger, shyness, even the need to pee evaporated when she saw who was standing before her. The Professor. The word made her mouth go dry and other places get very wet. If she were a bolder woman, there were many things that she would profess to him. He was a lean, silver fox in tweed and a tie.
Tall, clean shaven, elegant, his eyes blue blazed. Before she could recover from her shock, the door opened and the other guests came trundling in, followed by the bell boy and his cart full of everyone's luggage.
The Professor stepped up to the center of the room and smiled at everyone. “Hello, and welcome to Summerland Estate. My name is not important. What is important is that I am the Retreat Master and you have all been invited here for one reason. You are all talented women who write beautifully. The purpose of this retreat is to help you hone your skills. Free the inhibitions that might be holding you back. Break through the bindings that are keeping you from reaching your full potential. This is meant to be a personal journey, so I will facilitate, but not interfere. Everything you need to know is in this folder.”
He handed all three of the writers a black folder and a key for their room.
“Marcus is our go-to man. If you have a physical need,” he paused to smile slightly at his own words, “he is here to serve.”
The young black man with golden eyes stepped up. He was about an inch shorter than the Professor, but he was not without his own attractions. Strong jaw. Golden eyes. Broad shoulders. His full lips quirked into a smile. “Food, drinks, plumbing problems. I'm the only Estate employee this weekend, so if there is a problem or a,“ he looked over at the Professor/ Retreat Master, “physical need, I'll be happy to handle them.”
“Marcus, will you show Jez and Rena to their suites? I will escort Melissa, since I happen to be going that way.”
Melissa felt her breath catch. He often used that excuse to get her alone. A nagging voice in the back of her head said she was being a foolish schoolgirl. She released the breath with a sigh and relented to the voice. He was probably just making sure that Marcus, the handsome bellboy, didn't know exactly what room she was in. The Professor needn't fear for her virginity. The man that led the other women to the opposite wing of the estate was gorgeous, but she preferred a man with experience. Or would. If she ever took the chance.
Her room was down a long, dimly lit hallway. She followed close behind the man that she had learned from and had lusted after. Watching his tall, broad shouldered frame forge into the gloom ahead of her, she allowed herself a moment of fantasy. After all, her salt and pepper god was escorting her to her bedroom.
No, better. A suite. A suite at an estate where no one knew who she was or that she would be sleeping with her professor-- No, here he was the merely the Retreat Master.
He stopped short in front of a large, ornately carved oak door. Melissa walked right into him. Her breast tingled as they pressed into his back. “Sorry,” she whispered.
He took her key, unlocking her door. “Melissa. I'm very glad you were allowed attend.”
She bit the inside of her lip. Allowed. Being treated like a fifteen year old squashed any sexy feelings. “Yeah, you said that before. Funny thing-- you and me, both being here.”
“It was purposeful. I see a lot of potential in you. In your writing. You just need...”
“I don't remember giving you anything I wrote to read.” It came out as a whisper. A scarlet blush blazed across her cheeks.
“You'd be amazed what you can find on the Internet.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he said it.