0 comments/ 113851 views/ 41 favorites Home Help: Handywoman Ch. 01 By: Thighguy My name is Jan and I'm 41 years old. I've been faithfully married for 16 years and have got 2 kids. Now that they're getting older, I've started working as a home help, going to people's houses and doing whatever needs to be done. For a long time this was your usual range of everyday chores but recently things changed. A friend of mine works for Social Services and sometimes recommends me to clients of hers. She rang one day to tell me that she had a new referral who she thought could do with my services. As it happened, I'd just lost one of my regulars so I was pleased to get a replacement so quickly. We're not exactly hard up but a little extra money always helps with the unexpected bills. My friend gave me the man's number and told me he was expecting to hear from me. "He seems very nice," she added. She's normally a good judge of character so it was reassuring to hear that. I was a bit nervous when I phoned Mr Thompson but within a couple of minutes we were chatting easily. I found out a bit about him. He wouldn't give his age but did mention he was receiving his pension and said he needed someone who could lend a hand with things around the house. I told him that my late afternoon booking had become free and he said that would be fine, so we arranged for me to start the next Monday. Because of the kind of work I do, I tend to wear quite practical clothes, normally jeans and a sweatshirt. It's not exactly glamorous but that's not what I'm there for. That said, I still like to look presentable and make an effort with my hair and a bit of make-up. Despite having hit the "big 4-0" I'm in pretty good shape. My 36C chest hasn't gone south yet! Being 5'5" and curvy I've managed to maintain a consistent short but shapely figure while some of my friends have gone from tall and thin to tall and not so thin. I think I scrub up all right. That first Monday I arrived in good time and rang the doorbell. A man who looked to be in his late 60s answered and I asked, "Mr Thompson?" "You must be Jan," he said and welcomed me in. It was a neat 3 bedroom semi and I was impressed that a man of his years kept it so well. He explained that he wanted it to stay this neat and that's where he hoped I'd be able to help. He took me for a quick tour of the place, pointing out little bits of work he was planning to have done. "This is one thing you've got to be careful about," he told me, pointing at the washbasin in the bathroom. "The water pressure is very odd. I don't know if it's the washers or something in the pipe but sometimes there's barely a dribble and at other times it's like Niagara Falls, except going upwards!" I took careful note and we moved on, ending up in the kitchen. Over a cup of tea, we chatted a bit more and I felt glad that I'd be working for Mr Thompson. **** During the next few weeks, I settled into the routine and became familiar with the house and the chores I was expected to carry out. Everything was going smoothly until one day Mr Thompson told me he'd joined the local chess club and that he was due to attend his first meeting with them that evening. He explained that he wanted to be able to wash and get ready to go out, so would it be okay if I finished early? I agreed and wished him good luck with his game later on. I got on with my usual chores and was on my last, vacuuming the lounge carpet, when the 'bag full' light came on. As I removed the bag, a giant rip appeared in the side, along with a mountain of dust from inside it, all over the carpet I'd just been cleaning. I swore and then went to find Mr Thompson. He was upstairs, getting ready for his shower. I explained what had happened and suggested that if he didn't mind I'd stay on and sort the vacuum cleaner out while he had his shower. He said it was fine as long as I let myself out while he was otherwise occupied in the bathroom. Well, a change of bag later and I was cleaning the lounge carpet for the second time. Finally, I'd finished and was putting the cleaner away when I heard an almighty crash upstairs. I rushed up there. "Mr Thompson! Are you all right?" I banged on the bathroom door but there was no answer. I hesitated for a minute, wondering what to do. "Mr Thompson?" I called again, before deciding I had to brave it and go in. Fortunately, he hadn't locked the door and I opened it slowly, not sure what I'd find. As I looked in, I saw Mr Thompson must have slipped in the shower. Not being used to seeing naked men other than my husband, I was a little embarrassed but luckily the way he'd fallen kept his modesty intact. I turned the water off and grabbed a towel to cover him, then went to phone an ambulance. **** A week later, I heard from my friend at Social Services that Mr Thompson was back home but had been told he had to stay in bed until he'd recovered from his fall. I was glad that he hadn't suffered any serious injuries but I knew he'd need some extra help at home. I arranged for someone to cover for me so that I could extend my time at Mr Thompson's by getting there earlier. I was given a key to his house and was due to visit the next day. "Jan? Is that you?" called Mr Thompson, as he heard the front door open. "Yes, hello. Would you like a cup of tea?" I shouted up the stairs. I was already in the kitchen when I heard him answer yes. A couple of minutes later I was chatting to him upstairs and chiding him for not being more careful. He took it with good humour. "Being stuck in bed has made me notice a few things that need doing in here. Would you care to spend your extra time sorting them out?" "Sure, what do you want done?" I asked. "Nothing exciting, I'm afraid. It's all the things I can't quite manage anymore, like those high shelves and cleaning the wall behind them once the things are taken off them." He pointed and I saw what he was referring to. There was a real assortment of odds and ends plus a pretty grotty looking wall behind it showing through which I knew would need a bit of energy. "No time like the present. Have you finished your tea?" He nodded, so I took the mug and went to rinse it out in the bathroom washbasin. As I turned on the tap, something happened. It was like being hit by a water cannon. I was drenched and grappled to stop the flow. "Jan, are you all right?" Mr Thompson shouted, anxiously. "Yes, just a bit wet." I appeared in the bedroom, soaked to the skin. "You can't stay like that. I tell you what, check in the spare bedroom drawers. My daughter's got some clothes there. I don't know what she's left but they'll be dry at least." I dried myself off and went to see what was in the drawers. I quickly found a white blouse that looked like it'd fit me but no amount of hunting revealed any jeans. In fact the nearest thing I could find was a button-up denim skirt. I tried it on and it wasn't a perfect fit but it would do. As I caught myself in the mirror, I realised that some of the buttons were missing. Good thing I'd shaved my legs recently, I thought. Returning to Mr Thompson's room, I said I'd better start work. He was reading and I began by clearing the items from the shelves on the wall opposite his bed. It was a precarious business at times, standing on steps and stretching across. But I concentrated on the job and after an hour felt I'd made a good start. "Why don't you have a break?" said Mr Thompson. "Good idea," I replied and sat down on the chair next to the bed. We were chatting for a few minutes when suddenly Mr Thompson started to look a little strange. "Are you okay? Do you want me to call the doctor?" I was getting quite bothered. "No, no, it's okay," he said. "Are you sure? I think I should call someone. You can't be too careful after the sort of experience you've had." I didn't want to risk anything bad happening. "Jan, it's not anything like that. It's just..." He stopped mid sentence. "What? What's wrong?" "It's just a twinge." At that moment, he twitched slightly. "I think you should rest. No more reading." I reached forward and picked up the book which had been on the bed. Suddenly I realised why Mr Thompson had placed it there. Just below his waist there was noticeable ridge in the bedclothes. "I'm sorry, it's being stuck here in bed for so long and not being able to take care of certain things," he began. I wasn't sure what to say or where to look. Mr Thompson continued, "And then when you came in wearing that skirt..." I glanced down and realised that where the buttons were missing, most of my legs were visible, to mid-thigh at least. Sitting down for my break, I'd crossed my legs and it must have been quite a show. "I'm sorry, Mr Thompson. I didn't even think about it. Will you be okay?" "I think so. It normally disappears after a little while." He didn't sound too convinced. Being used to regular sex with my husband, I wasn't too sure either, not really knowing about these things from the man's side. I decided to get on with the work again. A couple of times I glanced at Mr Thompson and he seemed to be dozing. This was good, I thought, as hopefully other parts of him would have become similarly relaxed. I reached across to brush some dirt off an awkward bit of the wall and found that the skirt was restricting me. Another quick look at Mr Thompson suggested he was still asleep, so I undid a couple of the remaining buttons on the skirt. As I did so, I was quite pleased with what I saw. The exposed leg was shining nicely in the light and looked toned. Still, back to work. I made good progress on the wall and before that long I was ready to finish for the day. As I climbed down the steps, Mr Thompson woke up. Depending on when he actually woke, he might have caught a fair eye full of my legs. He didn't say anything though and I told him I was on my way home and that I'd be back the next day. It was only when I'd opened the front door that I remembered my car keys were in the spare room, left there when I'd changed clothes. I closed the front door and went back up the stairs. Just before I could say anything, I realised I could hear strange noises coming from Mr Thompson's room. It sounded like he was having trouble breathing, so I rushed in. "Jan!" he said. "I thought you'd gone! I heard the front door..." His voice trailed off as I looked at him. The covers were down and his 'problem' from earlier had obviously returned with vigour. "I thought you were short of breath...I left my car keys..." I said by way of explanation. I didn't know what to do or where to look. Again. Mr Thompson pulled the covers up and sighed. "It's no use anyway. I just don't have the strength to finish the job, if you get my meaning." He looked sad and frustrated. Without thinking, I sat down in the chair next to the bed and crossed my legs. As I did so, the bump in Mr Thompson's bedclothes twitched. Immediately, I realised it was the effect of me crossing my legs. I felt bad that I was making his condition worse. "If only I could just get rid of it," he said. "I just don't know how I can. That fall seems to have taken my strength in ways I never thought possible." I was in a dilemma. I felt at least partly responsible for his state but what was I meant to do? I'm a very moral person and have never cheated on my husband, nor would I want to. Those same morals also made me feel that I should help people when possible, especially if I've been the cause of their need. I sat there trying to work out what I could do to help. As I did this, I absent-mindedly ran my hand up and down my leg. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mr Thompson twitch. Suddenly, I had an idea. "Mr Thompson, I feel partly to blame for all of this. I think therefore I should play a part in trying to get rid of your 'problem'." Before he could interrupt, I continued. "Don't get me wrong, I am faithful to my husband and would never do anything to betray him. However, my actions have inadvertently caused you to become stimulated and I wondered if further exposure might lead to your problem reaching a conclusion." I looked at him meaningfully, having completed my little speech. "What did you have in mind?" he asked. Slowly, I pulled back the covers and revealed his hard cock. It was pulsating with desire. The tip glistened with escaped precum. I didn't think it would take much to unleash whatever else was in his balls. "Maybe if I make what I'm doing more intense, it'll make something happen," I said. I stood up and put my right foot on the side of the bed, the split in the skirt causing it to fall either side of my thigh. Mr Thompson's gaze became fixed on my leg. I began to caress myself there, flexing my calf muscle. "You know, I think I should have moisturised better." With that, I reached into my handbag and found a small tube of lotion. Squeezing a little of it out, I began to rub it into my skin, watching how it started to glisten. "That's good...it feels so soft and smooth." I looked over at Mr Thompson's cock, twitching and pulsating as his hand did its best to get him some relief. Part of me felt a little guilty, as I was in some ways being a tease but it was with the best of intentions. After about 10 minutes, Mr Thompson's cock was dripping with precum but no final orgasm had occurred. He groaned and for a moment I thought he was about to cum. "It's no good, Jan," he sighed, his hand by his side. "I just can't reach the point. It's almost painful now." I considered the predicament. "Would touching help?" I figured that allowing someone's hand, someone who was a friend and employer after all, to make contact with me was hardly infidelity, even if the scenario were a little unusual to say the least. Perhaps letting him caress my legs would finish things. Mr Thompson looked at me with surprise. "Yes, I think it might, if you're sure. I didn't think you'd want to go that far." "It's not really a big deal," I smiled. I climbed onto the bed, my right leg resting under me and my left stretched forward towards him, and reached my hand out, with the intention of guiding his onto my knee. His left hand found mine and there was a moment of confusion before I realised we'd been at cross purposes when talking about touching. Too late though, for in that moment of confusion his hand guided mine onto his rock hard shaft. I was about to protest when he said, "Thank you, Jan, I don't know how I'd be able to bear this feeling any longer." My hand felt frozen, gripping the throbbing erect cock of my pensioner employer. Thoughts raced through my brain. Did this constitute infidelity? How could I face my husband after this? Until now, I'd not touched another man's cock. Even so, we normally just had straight sex and I hadn't given him a hand job for as long as I could remember. I was brought back to reality by Mr Thompson's voice. "Jan, when it happens there may be quite a lot given how long it's been since the last time. Can you use this to catch it in? Since I'm stuck in this bed I don't really want to be lying in stickiness..." He handed me a tissue. I took a deep breath. "Okay, Mr Thompson, I don't have much experience with this but I'll do my best." I gently began to move my hand up and down on his shaft. At first it felt a little awkward and I wasn't sure he was enjoying it very much. Then I found a rhythm and I heard him moan appreciatively. I didn't know how fast I should be doing it but tried to imagine my husband's cock inside me and how he moved. Gradually Mr Thompson's breathing began to quicken. His left hand had found its way onto my leg and was squeezing up and down my shin, then round the back to my fleshy calf, up to my knee and then along my thigh. "Oh yes, it feels so good, don't stop, oh yes..." moaned Mr Thompson. My hand kept pumping him, maintaining a steady rhythm. I tried varying the lengths of my strokes, sometimes covering the entire length of his cock and sometimes concentrating more on the tip. The purple head was oozing more precum. My arm was beginning to ache a bit and I realised it was quite exerting. No wonder Mr Thompson had not been able to bring himself off. My free arm brushed my hair away from my sweating head and I opened the top of the blouse a bit to vent myself. Mr Thompson eyed my generous cleavage as my breasts bounced with my movements. "Tell me you want me to cum," half-whispered Mr Thompson. "Talk me through it, Jan. It will help get me there." As Mr Thompson continued to massage and caress my leg, I hesitantly tried to talk dirty. "Do it, Mr Thompson." It didn't sound very sexy to me but I wasn't entirely happy about what I was doing, was I? "Tell me you want me to cum, Jan. Tell me you like the way I touch you." I pumped his cock more slowly and tried to get into what I was doing. "Cum for me, Mr Thompson, do it for me. I want to see your cum shoot out of your hard cock. It feels so good in my hand." I surprised myself with what I was saying but continued. "Feel my legs, squeeze my thighs. Feel how smooth they are, how shapely. I bet you'd like me to shave them just for you, wouldn't you? Just so you could shoot your stuff all over them and rub it in. Imagine what they'd feel like with your cum on them." Mr Thompson groaned and I started to increase the speed of my jerking. "Shoot that cum, Mr Thompson. Where would you like to shoot that cum? I want to feel it on me." My hand was now pounding his cock hard and fast. Mr Thompson's gaze darted from my face to my cleavage and to my legs, which he still caressed. "Jan! I'm going to...get the tissue...Jan...keep doing it...Oh, uh..." I quickly grabbed the tissue and held it at the end of Mr Thompson's cock. The first spurt of his thick white goo shot out with such force that the tissue went flying out of my hand beyond reach. At a loss, I tried to catch the second in my hand but the amount was too much. "Get your mouth over, girl, quickly do it," shouted Mr Thompson. "But I've never..." I started to protest. "Quickly," he ordered. The combination of the authority of his voice and my bewilderment found me dipping my head over and taking his cock between my lips. It spurted like a fountain and I became aware of Mr Thompson's hands resting on the back of my head as he shot hot sticky loads into my mouth. So much was coming out of him that my mouth was getting full. The pulsating organ continued to empty itself and I had no choice but to make room for by swallowing what I'd taken. The salty, bitty sperm was strange to have going down my throat but I was concentrating on what was still being shot into my mouth. After that first mouthful had gone, Mr Thompson's grip on my head seemed to relax a bit but as I raised my head I found that he was guiding it down his shaft again. I began to realise he was lowering and raising my mouth on his cock like he was fucking it. Slowly I realised I was giving Mr Thompson a blow job. I swallowed again and cleared my mouth of the remainder of his cum. I looked up and saw his blissful expression, like he was in a trance. His fleshy bulb no longer pulsated in my mouth like it had when he was cumming but the shaft was still quite hard. This was the first time I'd had a cock in my mouth and it wasn't the greatest experience of my life, nor was it with my husband. My jaw was beginning to ache and I looked up at Mr Thompson, trying to get him to release my head. Finally, he guided my head up. "Thank you Jan," he said. "You've been very kind to me." Still in a state of shock over what had happened, I just nodded. "I've never known an orgasm like that." I climbed off the bed and did my best to straighten my clothes. Mr Thompson seemed to be falling asleep, so I quietly made my way to the bathroom, where I washed my mouth out to try and get rid of the taste of his seed. It didn't have much effect. My own clothes had dried and I changed back into them, hoping that I'd leave the memory of what had happened behind as I did so. I left the house with a lot on my mind. Home Help: Handywoman Ch. 02 Almost a week had passed since the day I visited Mr Thompson and somehow found myself feeling obliged to give him hand relief. I felt extremely uneasy about what had occurred and was lucky my husband hadn't noticed anything odd in the way I was behaving. I couldn't risk anything like that happening again and had decided to try a change of job. Consequently, I was on my way back from a job interview when my phone rang. "Hi Jan!" It was my friend from Social Services. "I know you're not working today but could you do me a favour?" "Yeah, probably," I replied. "What is it?" "I need someone to call in on Mr Thompson. It's pretty urgent and I know you've got a key, so is that possible?" I felt a pang of nerves mixed with guilt. Mr Thompson was stuck in bed still and I wasn't due there again for a few days. What to do? "Okay, I'll pop in," I said, knowing that I'd feel bad if I didn't. Within a few minutes, I parking outside his house. I opened the front door and went in. "Hello?" Mr Thompson called from upstairs. "Who's that?" "It's me, Jan, Mr Thompson," I called back, trying to sound normal. "What's the problem?" I asked, as I climbed the stairs and entered his room. "Hello, Jan. The bulb's gone in the main light." He pointed to the central light hanging down from the ceiling fixture, which was wired so it could be switched on and off from his bedside lamp. "All right, I'll change it. Where are the spares?" "In the top drawer there," he indicated the chest on the sidewall. I found them easily enough and took out a 60 watt. The steps I'd used to work on his wall the previous week were still in the corner of the room. I shuddered slightly as I moved them to just below the light fitting, remembering how my escapades on them had partly caused Mr Thompson's arousal and my ensuing administering of a hand job and blowjob to him. It wasn't until I started to take off my coat that I became conscious of what I was wearing. As I'd just had a job interview, I was dressed very smartly. More to the point, I was wearing a skirt which finished well above the knee and 3 inch heels. I paused for a moment. Mr Thompson was acting like he always had before that day and was probably as embarrassed as I was about what had happened. As matter of factly as I could, I slipped my coat off and laid it over the back of the chair. I then took off my shoes and proceeded to climb up the steps in my bare feet. The bulb was proving a bit stubborn to unscrew and I shifted my position on the steps. As I did so, I glanced in the window and saw my reflection. My pose of one foot on one step and the other on the one below had revealed a fair amount of thigh and added to that my leg muscles were flexed enticingly. I hoped it wasn't giving Mr Thompson any ideas. At last, the bulb came free and I carefully climbed down the steps, then went back up with the new one. While I was up there putting it in, the phone rang. I looked down to see Mr Thompson answer it. "Yes, well if that's what's happened, we'll have to do that. Yes, okay then. Goodbye." He didn't look too overjoyed at whatever his news was. Seeing my quizzical expression, he said, "That was the District Nurse's office. They've had to reschedule my bed bath. She'll be here soon." Relieved that I'd be able to get on my way soon without anything else happening, I offered to make Mr Thompson a cup of tea, which he accepted. We sat there and chatted until we heard the front door open. Shortly, a rather fierce looking woman entered the room. She looked me up and down as I sat in the chair by the bed and gave me a disapproving look before addressing Mr Thompson. "Hello, Mr Thompson. I'm here to give you your bed bath. We may as well get down to it. You've had this done before by my colleague, so where did she leave the equipment?" Mr Thompson looked blank for a moment and then said, "I think she must have taken it with her. She doesn't normally leave it here to my knowledge." The nurse looked angry. "Well, that means I'll have to go and get it. I'll be running even further behind now that I was. I shall return within the hour." She looked at me. "A word," she ordered and indicated that I should follow her out of the room. Once in the next room, the nurse spoke to me in harsh tones. "I recognise you. You work for Social Services, is that right?" "Yes," I nodded. "You must be aware of Mr Thompson's condition. He shouldn't be made to endure any unnecessary stress." I nodded again. "I know. I agree." I wasn't sure what her point was. Gauging that I wasn't understanding her point, she gestured towards the mirror in which I could see my reflection. "Then do you really consider your attire to be conducive in these circumstances?" As I looked in the mirror, I couldn't really argue. Climbing up the steps had left me a little dishevelled. My blouse was open more than it should have been and my skirt had ridden high, revealing my naked legs from mid-thigh down. To top it all, I was wearing my 3 inch heels which may have looked smart in the interview but now seemed to make me look like I was out to seduce. "I shall be checking Mr Thompson carefully for any evidence of stress and if I find any, I shall hold you responsible. I take these matters very seriously." With that, she left the room and shortly after I heard the front door close. While I didn't often encounter people from the District Nurses' office, I knew that a bad report could result in a bad reference and me not getting the new job. A little downhearted, I returned to Mr Thompson's room and told him what she'd said. "At least we got rid of your problem last week," I smiled weakly. "Oh Jan, I'm sorry..." said Mr Thompson. It took me minute to realise he wasn't just offering sympathy for what had been said by the nurse. Slowly, he pulled the covers back. My heart leapt with fear at the sight which greeted me. Mr Thompson's cock was rock hard. "Oh no, she's bound to think I'm to blame for that," I cried. "She'll be back in under half an hour! What can we do?" "There's only one thing we can do, Jan. Get rid of the evidence. We don't have long." I nodded, in something of a panic now. I started to take my shoes off. "No, leave them on, it will help me," he commanded. I was feeling quite flustered. What was I supposed to do? Suddenly it felt like I was facing the same dilemma I'd had the previous week. However, I didn't want to jeopardise my job prospects. Perhaps I could deal with this quickly and with the least involvement. Mr Thompson's cock twitched as I reached out to it. I began to jerk him quickly, while his hand found my leg again. He caressed the smooth skin and moaned. After a couple of minutes, he spoke. "It's no good, Jan. It's going numb and if there's no feeling there I won't be able to orgasm." My hand slowed down its pumping of his cock. I needed to get him to cum so that he wasn't in a state of arousal when the nurse returned. Out of desperation, I moved myself so that my head was by his cock. The next thing I knew, I was opening my mouth and enveloping his tip. Its meatiness throbbed as my tongue made contact and slowly I began to slide my head up and down his length. Mr Thompson groaned appreciatively as I licked and sucked him, trying anything I could think of to make him cum quickly. As my head bobbed up and down, I felt his hand slide along my thigh and into my panties, then work it's way to my crotch. A finger began to try and penetrate me. I raised my head from his shaft. "No, Mr Thompson..." I started to protest. "It may help me finish sooner," he said, his finger worming its way further in. I squirmed as I felt the fingertip part my pussy lips. My eye caught the bedside clock and I realised there was little point in arguing. I resumed the sucking. Some salty discharge coated my tongue and I remembered how I'd tasted sperm for the first time the previous week. As I concentrated on giving Mr Thompson a blowjob, he was fingering my pussy. He had succeeded in lubricating my lips and had found my clit, which he was now rubbing. Two of his fingers were inside me and I was juicing up considerably. Mr Thompson's cock was still emitting a fair amount of precum but he didn't seem to be near to actually cumming. I had another problem. Since I wasn't used to doing this kind of thing, my jaw and neck were both aching. After a couple more minutes, I had to stop. "I can't do that anymore, I ache too much," I said, despondently. "There is one thing we could try," said Mr Thompson, his fingers now sliding freely in and out of my pussy. "What?" I asked. "You could let me enter you. You know, penetrate," he said, looking me in the eye and playing with my clit. "I can't! I can't be unfaithful to my husband. I've already crossed the line." Mr Thompson sighed. "It's up to you, Jan. But I wouldn't want you to lose this job and not get any other. What would you tell your husband?" I hadn't thought of that. I'd already crossed the line but maybe I had a chance to make it count for something. "Okay. I haven't really any option," I said. I laid down and pulled my skirt up, exposing the entire length of my short but shapely legs, still with my 3 inch heels on my feet. Mr Thompson looked approvingly at them and I raised my knees, parted and ready for him. He gripped my thighs and once again his cock twitched as he caressed them. Suddenly I thought of something. "Do you have a condom?" Mr Thompson shook his head. "I don't really have any need for them normally." His hand began to play with my pussy again, which was still wet from before. His delicate movements began to have an effect. "Okay," I said. "You'll have to pull out. I'm not on the pill. You will pull out, won't you?" "Yes," he agreed. With that, he positioned himself and I felt his bulbous tip press against my entrance. With one thrust, he slid his length into me. I gasped as he filled me. "Squeeze those legs against me, Jan," said Mr Thompson persuasively. I did so, almost automatically. I felt one of his hands trailing down by my thighs, gently rubbing it. His other hand was toying with my cleavage. He began to pump slowly in and out of me. Lying on my front had plumped my breasts up and they were not far from being exposed. Mr Thompson began to touch the top of one of them, dusting it with his fingertips. The sensation of being fucked was distracting me and I didn't really protest when he freed my breasts and nuzzled them. Mr Thompson found a rhythm and I began to thrust up to meet him, my hips taking on a life of their own. "You...will...pull out..." I hissed, finding myself a little breathless. "Yes, I'll pull out, Jan, I just want to feel this pleasure for a bit longer." He continued to fuck me deeply, his cock filling my hole. "Wrap those legs around me for a minute and I'll pull out in time." I wrapped my legs round Mr Thompson's body as he'd told me and squeezed them hard against him. "Just another minute, Jan," he groaned, pumping himself in and out ever faster. "Then I'll pull out." "Don't cum inside me," I gasped, as his cock hit the back of my pussy. "You've got to pull out." "I will..." I began to thrust up a bit, trying to get over the edge. "Oh Jan, I'm getting near..." He leaned in to kiss me hard on the mouth. Our tongues wrestled as I sacrificed my virtue to get this over with. I felt his cock start to pulsate. "Pull out! Don't do it in me!" I screamed. Just as he I felt his cock start to pull out, we heard the front door open. The nurse was back! The shock of this made me squeeze my legs together and to my horror I felt his cock pushing back inside me. I tried to push him off but my legs had thrust him in deep. "Don't cum in me..." I cried as I felt the first spurt of his cum hit the back of my pussy. Mr Thompson took up his thrusting again, unable to resist the feeling and his mouth met mine as he forced his tongue into my mouth. His potent seed continued to splatter inside me. Footsteps came up the stairs as I felt the sperm pelting my pussy walls. "Uh, oh Jan...you feel so good," Mr Thompson cried, rubbing his shaft in and out of me, trying to get as much pleasure from this before he was finally spent. Eventually, his balls were drained and I had their entire contents in my pussy. He ran his hands down my legs and rolled off me, his cock at last shrinking. I lay there, dazed, 41 and probably pregnant. Time seemed to slow down as I waited for the inevitable entrance of the nurse. How could I explain this?