Working as a self-employed agent selling home ventilation systems wasn’t a great job, but only because it involved quite a high proportion of appointments at night: it was sometimes frustrating to complete an apparently successful sales pitch to the lady of the house during the day, only to have to go back on another night to convince her husband. However, otherwise there wasn’t much of a downside; the product was good, the supplier provided most of the leads, and I got a number of referrals from satisfied clients. Conversely, there were a few occasions when I would carry out a presentation at night, only to have to go back during the day to close with the other partner. This happened one evening, when I met a well-dressed middle-aged man at his home to assess his requirements and give him a quote. However although he agreed with my appraisal and quotation, he advised me that his acceptance of the quote was conditional on his wife’s approval. I phoned the next morning and spoke to the lady of the house, and made an appointment to return that afternoon.
The following day, I arrived at the couple’s home at the appointed time, to find, to my growing annoyance that there was nobody home. I called the husband on his mobile, and he expressed his surprise that his wife was not home, as they had discussed my pending visit that morning over breakfast. After half an hour, I was on the point of leaving when a late model BMW sedan pulled into the driveway. The woman who alighted leisurely was tall, well built and well covered, just as I like them, and a good looker for her age, which I put at late forties. She was well dressed and well made-up, and eyed me up and down as she crossed from the drive to where I stood on the front steps. Stopping at the foot of the steps she looked at me shrewdly before asking, “Were you early, or am I late?”
Swallowing my annoyance, I responded politely, “Perhaps we misunderstood one another, but I thought we were meeting at two!”
“Sorry!” she replied, not looking in the least bit apologetic, “I got held up!”
Climbing the steps to unlock the door, she stepped inside, flapping her hand in a vague gesture, which I understood to mean to follow her inside. Closing the door behind me, I followed her through to the dining room, where she deposited her shopping on the table. Turning to face me across the table, she said “My husband tells me that we should buy a ventilation system from you. You’ll have to persuade me!”
Mastering my exasperation and fixing a smile on my face, I began my presentation but hadn’t got more than I few words out when she held a hand up, cutting me off in mid-flow. “Excuse me, but my feet are killing me!” Kicking off her shoes, she bent to pick them up, giving me an eyeful of the tops of her ample breasts and her deep cleavage. Straightening, she told me to take a seat, while she went and changed. Fuming at her casual interruption, I nevertheless smiled politely and took a seat at the table as she padded out in stockinged feet.
She was back within minutes, a silky robe wrapped about her, tied at the waist in place of her blouse and skirt. Stopping at the door to the dining room she offered abruptly “Drink?” When I suggested coffee, she responded bluntly, “I’m pouring a drink, not making one! Wine?”
As I had no other appointment that afternoon, I nodded. She turned to go back to the kitchen, returning with two large glasses of cold, white wine. Sitting opposite me at the table, she pushed a glass across to me, took a sip from her own and then drank half of the rest of her wine in two or three long swallows. Taking a sip of my own, I put the glass down and opened my folder; about to begin again where she had interrupted me earlier, but again she forestalled me by raising a hand. “I don’t need the sales spiel!” she told me bluntly, “You’ve already sold my husband!”
“I thought you asked me to persuade you?” I responded.
“That’s right, I did!” she told me, “But if he’s decided that your product is good, it probably is. He’s not stupid,” she went on, “and he’s a good provider, but he’s not much good for anything else!” She looked at me appraisingly, to see if I was following her. I wasn’t sure that I was, but I smiled again, nodding encouragingly. I noticed that she was playing with the edge of her robe, twitching it as if to pull it closed, but only succeeding in pulling the edges further apart. “He’s no good to me in bed!” she continued, “In fact he likes to see me with other men!” She had my full attention now. “I think he might be a closet gay!”
“Ah, why is that? I mumbled.
“He likes to be fucked by other men, after they’ve had me!” she told me, watching me closely. “Don’t you think that’s more than a bit strange?”
Thrown off-guard by the turn of the conversation, and the abruptness of it, I stumbled over my response. “Ah, I’ve ah, heard that many um, middle-aged couples, ah, experiment um, sexually once their children are off their hands.” I stammered.
“Perhaps you’re a closet gay too?” she challenged me. With a sudden flash of clarity I saw where this was leading and responded accordingly. Reaching across the table I grabbed her by one wrist, jerking her to her feet as I stood, leaning across the table to meet her as I pulled her to me. Tipping her head back with my free hand, I bent to kiss her hard on the mouth, my tongue probing her lips. She barely hesitated before responding, opening her mouth wide, and her lips enveloping mine as her tongue fought its way into my mouth. Dropping my hand from her chin I reached into her robe. Her big tits swung free beneath the silk. Feeling for her nipples I found each in turn, pinching and rolling them to hardness as we kissed. She began to pant, her hot breath gusting into my open mouth. Still holding her wrist firmly I broke our kiss and moved around the table to face her. Resuming our kiss as I pressed her back against the table, I pulled the tie of her robe open, feeling her soft round belly, my fingers finding what felt like a suspender belt. Breaking our kiss momentarily I looked down; her robe hung open from her shoulders, her big breasts spilling out, and beneath it she wore a suspender belt and sheer, dark stockings, but nothing else. Moving back into her, my mouth seeking hers, one hand went to her breasts as the other reached between her thighs.
My questing fingers found a plump, well-furred mound, divided by a deep groove with thick, crinkled pussy lips. Delving inside, I found her warm and already very wet. My fingertips sought and found the small, growing nub of her clitoris, teasing it to swell to a small, hard prominence between her weeping lower lips. Gasping into my mouth, her hands sought my zip, tugging it down to reach inside and grasp my swollen cock, freeing it from my clothing. However no sooner had she released it into the cool air of than the room than she took both hands from it and twisted from my embrace. “No!” she gasped, “I don’t want to!”
Grabbing her by the arm as she pulled away, I pulled her back to me. “Don’t give me that!” I growled, “We both know you want it!” Grasping her firmly by the shoulders I pushed her to her knees before me, ordering harshly “Suck me! Get my cock in your mouth and suck me! Do it nicely or I’ll knock you out!” I had no intention of hitting her, but I was confident that she wanted rough talk. Even before I had finished speaking she had my cock in her mouth, sucking urgently. I held her by the head, rocking back and forth, pumping my cock gently in her suctioning mouth. Reaching up she undid my belt and trouser waist, tugging my trousers to my ankles; one hand cupping my balls as the other lightly stroked the base of my shaft. Her expert ministrations distracted me and I released her head, letting her bob it up and down to meet my slow, short thrusts. Obviously aware of my unfocussed attention, she suddenly let go of my cock and scrambled away on hands and knees. Leaping after her, I measured my length on the floor: the knowing bitch had effectively hobbled me with my pants around my ankles.
Kicking my trousers and underpants from my feet as I lay on the floor, I looked up at her broad white backside wobbling as she crawled away. Diving after her, I grabbed her by one ankle, dragging her back to me as I got back up onto my knees. Thrashing about in an effort to escape me, her exertions served only to reveal her excitement by revealing her swollen, gaping and very wet vulva. Leaping onto her like a beast on its prey, I forced one arm up her back, not as hard as to be painful, pressing my painfully swollen cock into the valley of her meaty buttocks. “Try a trick like that again,” I hissed in her ear with mock menace as I bent over her, “and I’ll give it to you in the arse!”
“No! No! Please don’t! Please let me go!” she bleated, but beneath me her hips were pressing back at my rigid cock.
“No way, you little bitch!” I laughed mockingly, “Not before you get what you deserve!” Holding her arm up her back, I pulled her to her feet as I stood. I knew from my previous visit where to find the master bedroom and steered her towards it, throwing her across the bed. She lay on her back, legs splayed obscenely, looking up at me fearfully as I undid my tie and shirt and threw them aside. However as I made to climb onto the bed between her thighs she rolled onto her front and made to scramble away across the bed. Throwing myself onto her once more, pinning her to the bed, I pulled the tie from her robe. Fighting to control the urge to laugh, and to maintain a savage tone in my voice, I snarled into her ear, “Right, you’re for it now, bitch! Now you’ll get what’s coming to you!” Wrapping several turns of the tie around her wrists, I fastened the ends to the bed head.
“Please untie me!” she begged, “I’ll do anything you want!”
“Too late!” I snarled in return, “You had your chance! Now you’re for it!” Her broad white buttocks wobbled invitingly as she continued to struggle. Raising one arm, I gave her several smart smacks across her full, smooth globes, raising howls of protest and fresh pleas for her release. I gave her several more smacks, admiring the growing pink glow of her arse. “Right, now you’ll really get it, bitch!” I cursed, as I lowered my hips onto her from behind, my knees forcing her thighs apart as the full length of my rigid cock lodged in the cleft of her buttocks, “I want your arse!” Shrieking in protest, she squirmed desperately beneath me. I stopped for a moment, as if considering, then pretending to make my mind up and growling, “No, maybe later!” Lifting from her I grabbed her ankles, crossing her legs to force her onto her back. Holding her ankles high, spreading her legs wide, I lowered myself onto her. She tried to buck me off, but with her wrists immobilised she could not hope to resist me successfully. Pinning her belly with mine I manoeuvred my hips to range my knob against her wet and open slit. As soon as I felt myself lodge within her open folds I thrust forward. She was so wet that my knob slithered down her slit and into her opening as if laser-guided. She was not only wet, but also burning hot inside. She gave a grunt as I slipped in, and then a long gasp as she felt me filling her, the fight going out of her in a rush.
I released her ankles, dropping her legs on the bed. Her thighs rose to clasp my waist, ankles crossing behind me, pulling me deeper into her. “Oh God yes!” she moaned, “That’s wonderful! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” She need not have worried; despite my pleasure, I was in no hurry. Not only was her cunt one of the wettest and hottest I had ever experienced, but also for a generously proportioned woman, it was also surprisingly tight. She came three times before I did; the first time only a minute or two after I entered her, the second only minutes after the first, while I was still thrusting slowly and steadily, and the last while we were both pounding the mattress in unison, with my neck bent and my suctioning mouth fastened securely over one of her bullet-hard nipples.
Our frantic movements slowed and then stopped, her legs released their grip around me and slumped to the bed to lie splayed beside me as I lay gasping for breath on her generous hips. As I eased my slowly drooping cock from her and rolled aside she gripped my arm, saying, “Stay there! There’s no need to go!” To my astonishment she called out in a low yet strong tone, “You can come out now, you little worm!” I was greatly surprised when her husband slunk into the room, looking shame-faced, naked and with his erect cock in his hand. “Look at him!” she spat, “it’s the only way he can get hard, watching someone else have me! Let him clean you off; he loves to before he cleans me out!”
Swinging my feet to the floor, I sat on the edge of the bed. The husband was quickly on his knees between my thighs, taking my sticky and semi-erect cock into his mouth, licking and sucking me enthusiastically as he stroked his cock. I felt my cock slowly growing harder until I was fully erect. His wife observed my excitement with gleaming eyes. “He’ll want you to fuck him now!” she told me conversationally, “Won’t you, you little worm?” she added, raising her voice, challenging him. He nodded, his mouth still on my cock. “Well get up here, and clean me out!” she ordered him. He scrambled onto the bed urgently to kneel between her spread legs as she raised her thighs, exposing herself to him. Pushing her thighs even wider apart he plunged his face into her wet crotch, licking eagerly. Looking past him at me she gave me a wry smile. You don’t mind, do you?” she queried. When I shook my head, she reached to open a bedside drawer, taking out a tube of lubricant and handing it to me.
Climbing onto the bed, I knelt behind her husband’s raised hips. Removing the cap from the lubricant I spread a generous amount over my shaft and knob, and then squirted a blob onto two fingers of my right hand and eyed up my target. Between the muscular globes of the buttocks before me it winked, small and pink-brown, as he bent and licked my spunk from his wife’s cunt. Spreading the lubricant around his puckered hole, I worked two fingers inside, pumping them back and forth, twisting them around, before withdrawing them, grasping his buttocks with both hands, tugging them apart with my thumbs set by his hole. Easing my knob into the spread crease of his buttocks, guiding the blunt tip of my knob against his hole, I held it in place with one thumb as I pressed forward. His pursed hole rebuffed me momentarily, until I leant more weight behind my cock, and it reluctantly surrendered to the invading pressure and my knob lodged securely in his hole.
Still holding his buttocks apart I rose up a little and bore down on him. He gave a muffled groan as his rubbery sphincter yielded and my knob slipped past the muscular ring. His wife gave me an approving nod as I looked up at her. Giving an answering nod of acknowledgement, I worked my cock into him with a series of short, sharp thrusts, drawing further groans of discomfort from him, until my balls nestled comfortably in the valley of his arse, my belly firmly pressed against his buttocks. I remained hard up him for a minute or two, trading conspiratorial smirks with his wife, before withdrawing part-way and shoving back in, repeating the actions until I had built up a steady and comfortable rhythm.
Aesthetically, I would by preference be riding the wife; my belly cushioned on her, my hips cradled in her fleshy thighs, and my cock sliding in the slick velvet clasp of her buttery cunt as I fed on her big tits. However, my dick having a mind of its own was quite content to pump back and forth in the tight elastic ring of her husband’s arse as my knob explored the depths of his bowels. Having already orgasmed only recently I felt no urge to hurry my second climax, and enjoyed a thorough yet languorous poking of my host’s arse before sharing with him a similar libation to the one I had committed to his wife’s cunt.
After I had withdrawn and collected the clothes I had left scattered through the house, I showered in their main bathroom. Once dressed again, I returned to where it had all begun, in the dining room. She was already there, seated at the table, and dressed this time in a more substantial robe, her thick, wavy hair damp from the shower. The contract for their ventilation system was signed, together with a cheque for the deposit. “You’ll need to come back to check on the installation,” she said, “maybe more than once?”
“I often have to,” I agreed gravely, “particularly with awkward designs.”
“Is our one awkward?” she queried.
“Very!” I responded. I had to avert my gaze, trying to avoid her eyes, as an image suddenly flashed into my mind, of her crawling across the floor to escape me, her cunt and arse on show, while I chased after her, wearing just my shirt and tie, my rampant cock spearing before me. With an effort, I controlled myself, and turned my attention back to her.
“That’s good!” she told me, adding contemplatively, “I have one or two close friends who may need you to give them an appraisal.”
I pretended to be thoughtful for a moment or two. “I would appreciate any referrals you chose to give me!”
It was her turn to look thoughtful, before replying meaningfully, “I guess that would depend on the quality of your follow-up service!”
“Of course!” I agreed.
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