Fantasy In Satin

I woke up slowly, surrounded by a pleasant perfume, my head lying on something satiny soft. Sleepily, I opened my eyes. My beautiful wife was gazing down at me, smiling tenderly. The lace from her peignoir sleeve trailed across my face as she pushed some of my hair that had fallen over my brow back from my face.

By Bea

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Looking at everything through my companion's eyes, I had to admit that Ellen had made some fantastic changes in a short time. The house had been in my family for generations, although I had never stayed there, except for the odd vacation, or visit to my grandfather. I had been orphaned at an early age but he had never really seemed to care for me personally, shifting me off to one school or another, and always somewhat uncomfortable in my presence. We had no other relatives that I knew of, so that explained why I had been the sole recipient of his estate - a not inconsiderable sum involving the large house, real estate and stock holdings.

Ellen had been the lawyer I'd hired to contest some of the silly strictures he'd tried to impose on the inheritance - how much I was to get each year, how I couldn't make any decisions - that sort of thing. She was highly aggressive - brilliant - and gorgeous. She made mincemeat of my grandfather's old fuddy-duddy lawyers. It seemed the wise thing to do afterwards when I made her my financial advisor. After we fell in love, I was delighted when she gave up her law practice to handle my affairs.

The house had gone from being a comfortable old house - lots of brick and walnut furniture, to a bright, open, rather feminine place with lots of chintzes, pastels - and particularly flowers. Both Emily and Frances were suitably impressed, constantly admiring 'my' taste. I tried to let them know it was all Ellen's doing, but this point seemed to escape them. Finally, I just took all the credit.

I was never too sure where my 'cousins' had come from but, according to Ellen, they did pose some sort of threat to contest the will. They didn't seem to be aware of this, both of them being ultra feminine and dithery but, again taking Ellen's advice I put myself out to be pleasant to them.

When we got back to the sitting room Rose reappeared carrying a tray with chocolates. Both Emily and Frances declined. I did too. Rose stared at me, a slightly intimidating look in her eye. "Didn't the mistress suggest that you eat more chocolate miss Henry?" "I'm MISTER Henry, Rose! How often do I have to tell you!" I said firmly. She curtsied. "I'm so sorry sir." She said, but her eyes weren't overly apologetic. "But" she continued. "If you don't want to follow miss Ellen's diet? Maybe you should tell her - or would you rather that I did?"

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