2 comments/ 42503 views/ 5 favorites Doreen By: oliveau I used to get around the country in my work as a land agent and would sometimes come across single women, either unmarried divorced or widowed. On a few occasions romance would blossom. This is a true story of one of those romances. I drove up the farm driveway on a sunny late summer afternoon to a modern house, and getting out of my car I knocked at the door. It was answered by a woman in her early forties. I explained who I was and that I needed to speak to the landowner concerning the oil pipeline that ran under their land. "You need to see my mother, Mrs Launchbury, who lives in that bungalow over there." I moved my car over to the bungalow and going through a pretty little private courtyard to the house I found who I presumed to Mrs Launchbury sitting at a table having a cup of tea. I introduced myself and found that I was indeed speaking to Mrs Launchbury. I explained who my clients were, and that they needed to gain access to her land to do major works to their pipeline, and as their land agent it was my job to deal with the relevant landowners. "You'd better sit down and have cup of tea," she smiled, and she went indoors to get another cup. I studied her as she filled my cup and refilled her own. I guessed about 5'7", neat build and quite slim. Nice breasts, not too small or too large and I'd noticed good legs when she went indoors. Dark collar length hair, which I thought was coloured, dark eyes, and as for age, I thought maybe another ten years more than my own 52. We chatted away about the work that would be involved, and once she realised that there would be lots of workmen about she chuckled, "My sister and I could set up a tearoom for all those lovely men!" My ears pricked up for she was attractive, and I wondered if she would fuck. I remarked idly, "Is your sister a naughty girl then?" "She might have been at one time, but she's 75 now." "And what would your husband say to you making tea for lots of horny handed workmen?" "My husband died twelve years ago." I asked for all the other information that I required for my dossier, and in doing so I found out her son's age, and calculated that she must be at least in her late sixties, so I thought perhaps I'd read her wrong. Nevertheless, she was quite fanciable, so on leaving I asked, "I wonder if you'd like to come out with me one evening for a drink?" "I don't drink, but I do like to go to the pictures if you'd like to come with me." We agreed that we'd go out the following evening, and she told me that "Tea with Mussolini" was on locally. Just as I was leaving she asked, "What do you want out of this?" She caught me on the hop, because I couldn't just say 'A shag would be nice' so I burbled, "Well, I'm away from home, and I'd enjoy your company. You know..." As we walked from the car park to the cinema she surprised me my taking my hand and she continued to hold it during the film. I sat in a small armchair in Doreen's bungalow, and much to my surprise she came and sat on my lap facing me, hitching her skirt up as she did so. Leaning forward she kissed me. Very quickly tongues were flickering in mouths; I had my hand inside her blouse and under the bra cup. Her tits were just a nice handful and surprisingly firm. Her small nipples quickly became hard under my hand as I caressed her. I opened the front of my trousers and eased forward in the chair so that our crotches were touching. Unfortunately I'd had a very hard week and I was extremely tired, so although my old chap showed a bit of interest he refused to rise to the occasion. I apologised, and she said that she understood and she seemed quite content to continue as we were. Eventually I left saying that I'd see her the following week. I drove back eastwards on Monday morning, thinking all the time of Doreen. I knocked on her door shortly before ten, and she greeted me with a kiss. "I'm just going to have a bath," she said. "Shall I wash you back?" I asked, half in jest. "Mmm, that would be nice." She led me to the bathroom as and as she filled the bath she took of her bathrobe as naturally as if she'd known me for ages. Her tits were as I'd remembered them – not too large and still firm for her age. She had a bit of a tummy and between her legs was a dark bush, which I suspected that she trimmed just a bit for it was very neat, but nicely hairy, just as I like. She got into the bath and washed herself, and I soaped and washed her back, then reaching around I gave her tits a good soaping as well and her nipples hardened most satisfactorily. She wasn't the only one for my cock was wide awake that morning and wonderfully hard. She got out of the bath and dried herself and without a word she led me to the bedroom. Clearly it wasn't her own room for the bed was undisturbed until she pulled back the covers and got in. Swiftly I undressed and joined her and we kissed deeply while I enjoyed her breasts. I sucked gently on her nipples as my hand stroked her belly and then on down to her bush. She sighed gently and parted her legs in invitation, while feeling for my hard cock. Gently she stroked it then murmured, "That's nice." I slid a finger down into the crack of her cunt, but it was dry. "Just a minute." She slipped out of bed, leaving the room only to return a moment later with an enormous pot of lubricant which she proceeded to smear liberally all over her cunt. I continued to explore her cunt, and with the liberally applied lubricant I was able to slide a finger into her and very gently massage her clit. Doreen seized another handful of lubricant and smothered my cock before saying, "Let's try." I rolled on top of her and she guided the tip of my cock to her entrance. I pushed slowly and felt the head of my cock go into her so I slowly pulled out a bit and pushed again, going in a bit deeper Once I'd got a couple of inches into her she asked me to pull out so that she could apply more lubricant. Once again she guided me in and over the next minutes I slowly worked at her as she gradually opened up to me. After ten minutes or so I was fully in her, but she was tight and dry still so we used more lube. "It's been a long time," she said in explanation. I entered her for the third time but it took a couple of minutes for her to once more take the whole length of me. At last I was able to move in her so we settled down to some long slow fucking as she moved under me. All too soon I knew that I couldn't go on much longer although I knew she wasn't ready. "I'm sorry Doreen, but I can't wait much longer." She didn't say anything but she kissed me wetly with her tongue fully in my mouth while continuing to move under me. Her hands were on my arse, pulling me into her so I guess she wanted me to come. I felt my cock expand so I pushed deep into her and she sensing I was there pushed up hard against me to receive me. My cock jerked hard as my spunk gushed into her and she gave a great moan of satisfaction as she felt it splash inside her. Knowing that I hadn't satisfied her, I pulled out after a while and masturbated her, paying attention to her clitoris. It took another 5 minutes or so, but all of a sudden her body stiffened and she moaned, "Oh, Oh, Oh you, Oh you." We lay in each others arms an eventually she said, "I needed that. My husband and I had a good sex life and I wasn't ready to give it up when I was sixty. I had a lover after he died but that was a few years ago." I lay there thinking. So she was 72, which was ten years older than I'd thought. She didn't look her age, and although it hadn't been easy, she wasn't a bad fuck. I certainly wanted to try it again, but I had work to see to. We parted having agreed that I'd see her that evening. There was no messing that evening for she led me straight to bed. We went through the same procedure with the lubricant again before she straddled me and slowly took me inside her. It was a bit easier this time and I held her breasts and massaged her nipples as she slowly rose up and down my shaft. I didn't think I'd be able to come again as I'd given her my best shot in the morning, but the sensations she was creating on my cock were wonderful. After about quarter of an hour, without any warning she suddenly cried out, "Oh, Oh, Oh you, Oh you." I felt her cunt twitching on my hard cock, and then she slowly lowered herself to lie on top of me. Within a very few minutes she was fast asleep, so I lay there with my arms around her, and still firmly embedded in her sticky cunt. Doreen Does, Or Does She? My mind was wandering, as it does when idling in the sun, enjoying a rare day off. My thoughts bounced from topic to topic, mental pictures flitting across my closed eyelids, like vintage film flickering against the screen that were my eyelids. As so often occurs, an unbidden thought caused me to focus more attention upon it. Doreen. I hadn't given her a single thought for many months, if not years. I first met her when I was a youngster, and I spent many a load of cum imagining what I would like to do with this older woman. Today she would have been termed a Milf. I can only guess at her age. Perhaps, around 40 or so at first meeting. Doreen became my fathers' mistress and remained so for a decade. Over that period I overheard many a conversation between them, and gossip about her from a variety of family friends. Some were jealous of her, some envious, and some scandalised by her. Being an inquisitive lad I had found my fathers' stash of photographs of her. Old style Polaroids. Remember them? Years later when he died, I found a lot more material he had squirreled away over the years. Photographs, tapes and underwear. Not only of her but other women too. He had been a serial womaniser throughout his life. I suspect that a passing resemblance to film legend Errol Flynn in his youth did his chances no harm with the opposite sex. Despite his many faults, he possessed a silver tongue and a certain charm which seemed to make him very popular. You may wish to form your own mental image of Doreen and I hope I can give you enough material to do her justice. She was a sometime blonde, who very occasionally appeared with black hair. As her pubic hair was black and abundant I would suffer a guess that the blond was bleached. She was often shaved downstairs but whether that was her choice or my father's wish, I really don't know. I have never seen her in photographs with any trimming such as a Brazilian, so I am guessing that in 1970 it was either one or the other, nothing artistic in between. The hair on her head was shoulder length and always permed. Big hair was popular. Her face was attractive however, for my taste, she usually wore too much make-up. She knew how to apply it though, and she was incredibly popular with men, so I guess for the period she was hot stuff. I heard many a bitchy comment from the women. However she was of good enough heart that she was an integral part of a group of friends who stayed close for a decade or more. Her husband was a really nice guy, but I don't think he knew how to handle her. Bit much for him, especially with a few Whiskey and Americans inside her. Figure wise, I can see you expecting the usual ramblings of a stunning figure with fantastic boobs and even better legs, a waist you could reach around with two hands. Sorry. This is a woman of forty, who had two grown children, leading a normal life of work and home, a few nights out dancing and drinking, a restaurant on a Saturday night. I am surprised she had the spare time to entertain a lover. I know for a time she had a part time job in a shop. My father would go to the shop, and fuck her in the stockroom, enjoying the fact that the shop-owner would watch them through a small side window. Happiness all round. I've just had a memory flash. I remember now that my father used to be quite controlling. She drove a small open-topped sports car. Leaving work (from a different job) she would have to pass out via a security booth. She would stop, the security guard would have a quick word and a smile as the barrier lifted and off she would drive. My father would phone her at work and if she was wearing a short skirt or dress he would tell her to remove her panties for the rest of the day. On getting in the car skirts will always ride up. He would tell her to pull it up to C-Level (his term not mine), and make sure the guard looked. She was to have her legs slightly opened too. My father would then want to hear the details of the guard's reaction. He was a bugger. Doreen must have had nice legs. She had been a semi professional dancer in her youth, and danced throughout her life. The group of friends organised and appeared in their own amateur dramatic group throughout the seventies and eighties. She carried short skirts well, but then it was a novelty and many women had legs decent enough to show off. I don' think people were so fussy those days. Women carried more weight back then than they like to now. Doreen was like other women. Her weight fluctuated. When she was drinking more heavily she ate less and lost weight. When she got her head back together she ate properly and put a few pounds on. My memory is hazy and I no longer have the photos to refer to. That is a shame, but it was long before home computers made it so easy to store private images. How was I to know that it might have been fun to look at them now and again. Oh, hindsight and that 20/20 vision thing. I never saw pictures of her in which she were too fat nor too thin. Her waist was more defined when she lost weight. She was quite tall too, so those extra pounds were carried well, and as a dancer she moved gracefully too. She was blessed with a very pleasant pair of breasts. There was a certain amount of sag. However, they were large enough that it enhanced the look of them rather than detracted from them. It certainly provided her with a fabulous cleavage, an asset she was never slow to reveal. Her nipples were on the large side too but although she could wear a dress that was so low cut you would think she must pop out of it I never once saw a hint of nipple. So, that is Doreen. I would guess at a size 12 on a good day, a 14 at other times. Decent legs, good breasts, curvy figure, big blonde hair surrounding an attractive face. Sexy of body and mind. A tease and a flirt. And developed sexually through the years by my father. It would take too long to tell how I know. Just trust me on this. That woman was malleable. Doreen had two children. A son and a daughter. I didn't know the son, but in the early days the daughter lived at home. She was stunning. Around 22 at that time, and blessed with a beautiful face, and an awesome figure. My father was obviously enthralled. Enough that a few years later, after she was married, he came into possession of some polaroids of her in some very erotic poses. She was sensational in thigh length boots, and nothing else. Doreen's daughter, who I will call Emma, met and married a good looking guy by the name of Ben. Tall and hunky, Ben was a confident lad who had a promising career and considered by all the ladies to be quite the catch. We only met a few times at family type parties. He was friendly, affable and it seemed to me, a nice guy. Had I been older perhaps we would have become good friends. Had I known his rather naughty mind I am sure we could have become very good matess. During their courtship Ben obviously spent a lot of time at Doreen's house. Even after they were married it became Bens' habit to drop in at the house a couple of times a week at lunchtime as he worked close by. This way he kept Mother and daughter in touch by acting as a communicator. As the months went by he learnt quite a lot about his Mother-in-Law, and about his wife. His conversation would be both relaxed and wide ranging. It was not too long before his naughty nature and Doreen's flirty side led some conversations towards sex. Doreen admitted to having a lover, Ben confided some of his and Emma's fantasies. Of course, Doreen in turn confided the sexy chats to my father. This led to my father suggesting that Doreen dress a little more revealingly when Ben came round. I know of one occasion when Ben called, Doreen spent an entire hour with a dildo deep inside her, kept in place by very tight panties and trousers over the top. Within seconds of bidding Ben goodbye and closing the door behind him, she raced upstairs, tore her trousers down and screamed her way through an intense orgasm. A second and third followed. My father was all for Doreen fucking Ben. Probably thinking he could wangle a way to fuck Emma. Did it ever happen? The four of them together? I don't know. He did tell me he finger-fucked Emma under the table at dinner once. I can imagine Emma getting off on that. I once overheard Doreen saying she would love to suck Emma's breasts as they were so lovely. She was right. Emma did have incredible tits, and was a very athletic fuck. Active and imaginative. Admirable qualities. Perhaps there is an inheritable gene. As the weeks went by Ben would see Doreen in low cut tops, short skirts, daringly braless under a t-shirt, have the door opened by Doreen wrapped in a towel and apologising that she was in the shower and running late. Sometimes Doreen would be entirely naked under a dress. Not actually anything visible to Ben but a turn on for Doreen. Bringing herself to orgasm when Ben left became the norm. The more daring she had been, the quicker and more powerfully she came. Unbeknown to Doreen, Ben often confided in Emma how her Mother teased him. When Doreen had sat opposite him one time in a mini skirt he realised she was naked beneath and shaven. He'd had clear views of her pussy several times as she'd moved around. Emma thought this was great fun and told Ben it would serve her Mother right if Ben asked to fuck her. A couple of visits later, Doreen had chosen a particularly low cut top. Their conversation had been raunchy. At the door Ben bent to kiss Doreen's cheek as normal. He had an uninterrupted view straight down her top, to a plump breast sitting in a very lacy bra. Already very aroused, any inhibitions forgotten, he reached into the top, lifted out Doreen's heavy breast, bent lower and kissed her nipple. Just once before replacing it in the bra. With a cheeky grin, he was through the door waving goodbye and calling that he would see her the next Tuesday. Doreen was so sexually aroused that she went upstairs stripped naked, got out her favourite dildos and telephoned my father. She orgasmed three times in the telling, and twice more as my father told her in exact detail just how he would fuck her when they next met. Doreen thought a lot about Ben's next visit. How would he feel? Would he be embarrassed and think he had overstepped the mark? After all, he was her daughters' husband. Eventually she had dressed in trousers and a jumper, and put some light daytime make-up on. Beneath she wore a rather sexy matching bra and panties set. Was this just in case? Lunch passed by in general conversation, and Doreen was a tinge disappointed. As Ben was making his way to the door he begged a favour of Doreen. As he bent to kiss her she asked what the favour was. Their faces inches apart, Bens' eyes staring into hers he quietly asked that in future she wear skirts and not trousers when they met. Also he would like her to wear her revealing top next time they met up. But this time without a bra. She had magnificent breasts and he wanted to admire them more. As he spoke his hands had wandered down over her breasts to her hips, his thumbs slid under her jumper and stroked over her stomach. 'OK' was all she could murmur. My father loved the idea and told her she must do it. She was uncertain though. But as I have already stated she was malleable, and a couple of small drinks before their lunch date meant she opened the door to Ben dressed exactly how he had asked. She had also complied with my fathers' wish that she have a freshly shaved pussy, nestling in the smallest pair of panties she possessed. As she put lunch on the table she knew Ben could see both breasts swing free inside her top. Her nipples were aroused and clearly visible against the soft silk. Ben was on top form, entertaining her with tales from his work, some sexy gossip of mutual friends. He'd asked her to top up his wine. As she leant over, he'd reached into her blouse cupping one full breast in his hand. His thumb rubbed gently over her nipple. Then he released her and carried on with his conversation as if nothing had happened. The cheeky grin on his face told a different tale. As he was leaving, he took Doreen by the shoulders, slid his hands along then down her arms. The top, trapped beneath his hands followed. Once her breasts had popped free the top slid to her waist easily. Ben spent the next five minutes kissing, licking, nibbling. Doreen spent them leant back against the wall, breathing heavily, her pussy getting steadily wetter, her desire rising. Suddenly he left her. 'See you Friday. Wear the black mini with your black boots' he called as he strode, jauntily, down the path. By now, you will have guessed where Doreen headed next. She went directly to the bedroom; the telephone; and a very satisfactory series of orgasms. When Friday arrived, all too slowly for Doreen, and my father, Ben has complimented her on her dress, adding that he had always thought she had really nice legs. Spoiling it somewhat by adding that he guessed that was where Emma got her great legs from. He's young. He'll learn. Doreen waited for something more, but nothing happened until Ben again reached the door. This was despite her showing swathes of bare thigh as she moved around on the couch, sometimes letting her thighs drift slowly apart. At the door Ben kissed her cheek, then he added a kiss to her neck. As he began to nuzzle her neck he slid both hands under her dress, cupping the cheeks of her arse, over her panties. 'You know I'll have one hell of a wank thinking about you.' he whispered to her. 'So will I' she replied, without real thought. It would be nice next week if you weren't wearing these.' Ben said as he slipped both hands into the waistband of Doreen's panties, and cupped her bare ass. A few moments later he was gone. As the door closed behind Ben, Doreen was already slipping a hand into the top of her panties. By the time her fingers reached her pussy, the lips were opening, love juice flowing freely. She had several orgasms a day in the following days, always thinking of Ben, and where this game would ultimately lead. My father too enjoyed his fair share, and the telephone wires fairly burned with their conversations. When they'd met he had fucked her for several hours telling her to imagine he was Ben. He had recently introduced her to anal sex, which she came to love, and took her arse, a dildo in her pussy which she was to think of as Ben. They would soon both fuck her together my father had told her. Doreen loved the idea of the two men ravishing her, and came and came. By the time of Bens' next visit, Doreen had had a few ideas of her own. Actually I think my father may have suggested some. She had prepared sandwiches, so they sat opposite each other on matching two-seater settees. She, dressed in a short mini, high heels and a sheer blouse. No panties as requested. He sat opposite in shirt and tie and his suit trousers and loafers. As they finished eating Doreen leant over to put her plate on a side table. Her legs splayed wider as she leant. Casually, Ben mentioned that he liked her shaved pussy and had wanted Emma to shave hers. Emma had refused. Could Doreen suggest some ways he could persuade Emma. This conversation led Doreen to sitting with her legs several inches apart. She countered that Ben had seen her tits and pussy. It was unfair that she got to see nothing of Bens physique. Ben agreed to remove his trousers. The seventies were the era of Y-fronts, somewhat tighter than the underwear of today's young man. It is not unreasonable to presume that Doreen was impressed with the package Ben presented her with. Ben no doubt was equally impressed with the slick look that Doreen's pussy lips now presented. Her wetness had caused the lips to swell and part rather prettily. What effect this had on Bens' cock I leave to your imagination. When the time came for Ben to return to work Doreen suggested she help him on with his trousers. Lame excuses are often the best. As she worked them up around his waist she found herself inches from his bulge. A bulge that grew in size as she stared. It was a very aroused couple that said goodbye at the door, yet the kiss on the cheek was as chaste. Not so the telephone call that followed. My father was convinced that Doreen would soon be bouncing around on that cock. The next few weeks were difficult. A couple of times Doreen's husband had time off work and joined them for lunch. Emma even joined them one time. Then Ben had phoned to ask if Doreen minded a colleague joining them for lunch. They enjoyed a very pleasant lunch together, and as the colleague strolled up the path Ben called to him that he would meet him at the car. Backing into the hall and closing the door, he pulled Doreen to him. A full French kiss caught Doreen by surprise but her mouth opened and accepted his tongue. A breathless Ben explained how he had missed their games. He had wanked so much thinking of her shaven pussy. He wanted to see it up close. He had opened several buttons of her blouse and began kissing the exposed skin of her breasts. She ran fingers through his hair, her mind racing. As he lifted his face to look into her eyes she felt his erection brush her leg. She lowered a hand, brushing it across his hardness. His cock jumped against her palm, and she squeezed it through the material. Years before, Emma had confided in her mother that Ben had a large cock. Probably trying to shock her mother with her worldliness. Of course she had not realised that Doreen had seen a few fair sized cocks in her time. Ben's was like rock, and felt huge. Doreen would be unable to resist him. Ben was whispering in her ear, asking if they could arrange something special for the following Friday. A car horn sounded and Doreen was nodding as Ben left. He left Doreen leaning back against the wall, her blouse partly opened, one breast flopped over the top of her lacy bra cup. She could still felt the size and warmth of Bens cock on her hand. You can bet the orgasms that were soon hers that afternoon were something special. My father had convinced Doreen that Ben meant to fuck her the next time they were together. The thought excited them both. That was what he meant by asking if they could do something special, he had told her. He was anticipating a very horny and well fucked Doreen to be filling him with the details, once Ben had returned to work. The following Friday was a hot and sunny day. Doreen took advantage of the weather to top up her tan. She was full of anticipation for the approaching lunch date with Ben, and was getting nicely aroused. Although my father was pushing her to fuck Ben she wasn't so sure it would be a good idea. But the size of his cock kept intruding on her sensible thoughts. Time raced by and she was still in her bikini as Ben arrived a full half hour before normal. She threw on a light wrap as she rushed to open the front door. Bens' eyes lit up as he came through. 'Maybe I should have brought my swimming trunks' he joked. 'Your Y-fronts will do nicely' replied Doreen, not joking. So Friday lunch was eaten with Doreen in her bikini, a silk wrap over the top and Ben stripped down to his white cotton pants. Neither had seen the other in so little clothing. It seemed to stunt the conversation. However a second glass of wine loosened tongues. Ben suggested that Doreen serve lunch next week in nothing but bikini bottoms or panties. Doreen told him only if he wore the same. That maybe she should make him sit naked. That suggestion was left unanswered. As Ben was leaving, her eased his arms around Doreen. As they kissed he pulled the fastening loose and eased the wrap over Doreen's arms. It dropped to the floor with a silky wrustle. Lips met, crushed against each other. Hands roamed. Breasts were squeezed, nipples tweaked, arse cheeks stroked. It was Doreen who took it up a level. She undid Bens' zip, his trouser button and then wormed her hand into his pants. It was as if his cock thrust its way up to meet her hand. It burned hotly in her hand as she worked it up and down. Ben slid his hand into the front of Doreen's bikini bottom, the elastic stretching to capacity. Her wetness flooded his hand as his fingers opened her cunt lips. For this was no cute pussy now. This was a cunt, swollen with lust, needing to be fucked. He slid two fingers deeply into her. They were both bent awkwardly, groaning into each other's ears. A few more minutes would find them fucking frantically on the floor. Doreen Does, Or Does She? That was when the phone had started ringing. Knowing that Ben would have left some minutes before, my father had given into impatience and wanted the latest dirty details. Little could he have guessed. The effect on Ben and Doreen was like that of a cold shower. Doreen grabbed her wrap and ran to the lounge to answer the phone. She had an annoyed inkling who it was. Ben straightened up his clothes, tidied his hair, and, popping his head around the door, waved goodbye. That afternoon she drilled that wet cunt until she was sore. Every time she thought she would stop, she thought of that huge hard shaft in her hand. Her pussy would flood, no indeed, her cunt would flood and she would be off in search of another orgasm. She finally stopped when it was time for her husband to arrive home. And even he got to have sex with her that night. And that was a seldom experience in their marriage. Did Ben get to fuck his Mother-in-Law? Did Doreen get to sample her Son-in-Laws cock? I don't really know. I think Ben probably decided that he had pushed the game far enough, that the possibility of losing Emma was not worth the risk. Doreen probably realised that fucking Ben was not the best of ideas. Perhaps Doreen's husband wised up to something happening between her and Ben. I have no idea. Doreen didn't miss out though. Don't worry. My father had new and exciting plans for her. He'd promised her a threesome. He'd warmed her to the idea of double penetration. My father duly delivered. With one of the other men, who was an integral member of their group, and as randy as my father. With sufficient verbal suggestion, Doreen soon found herself attracted to him. The threesome frolics that followed were fun for all. I know. I've seen the photographs.... Doreen's Good Fortune Doreen, a widow, was always a fun one in our group . She enjoyed the stories and shrieked with laughter and pleasure along with the rest of us. But she was reserved and said little. Very generous, she was always prepared to share expenses, and although she didn't broadcast it, we know she had often helped others. When we heard her tale, we all both shocked and excited here it is for you, in her own words. Doreen's Good Fortune. Littlewoods pools, the Treble Chance, remember? Well I won it one week. That's right, seventy five thousand pounds, everyone's dream, and my dream came true. First thing I did was to shed 16 stone (224 pounds), I wasn't fat or anything, I just got rid of my waste of space husband, the divorce was so sweet, useless lump, he wasn't going to go through my winnings. Then I bought a house, I wasn't going to waste my money, I wanted to make the most of it. After a trip to America on the Queen Mary, and a bit of a tour, I decided that I needed something to keep me out of mischief, so I decided to buy me a little business. A little bird told me that Madame Du Prè's Sewing Box, a lovely little haberdashery and ladies general store might be available. I popped into the shop to speak to Madame Du Prè ( Brenda Harris) and discovered that she felt it was time to retire and was indeed in the market to sell, and I felt at a very reasonable price. What's more, as I didn't need a mortgage, and could go ahead immediately, she would be happy to stay on for a month to show me the ropes while she arranged the purchase of her cottage by the sea. To be fair, I had often used the shop for my sewing bits and bobs, and I knew she offered a corsetry service, and sold an excellent range of very nice intimate linen as she called the underwear, why I don't know, because very little of it was linen, mostly silk, satin, nylon and cotton. The price was good, the house, a very pleasant little detached place cost just under a thousand, my new Morris Minor about five hundred, I called her Daisy and now the shop, at again a very reasonable two thousand pounds. The bank, and my solicitor sorted out the business of the money, and I started to working in the shop under the guidance of Brenda. What amazed me was that much of the corsetry and the "intimate linen" was quite pricey, although the bulk of sales were dress making fabric, paper patterns, Dewhurst's thread, and Beehive knitting wool. With a few bits of baby clothes and other things. There was a further side to the business which I hadn't ever considered, offering more personal things, you know, sanitary towels, pessaries, and various odds and sods to do with contraception and you know, sex things. I had a lot to learn, I discovered in the second week, just how much. It was inevitable, that Brenda and I in our conversations would get round to S.E.X. Brenda was quite a bit older than me and I wasn't immediately comfortable discussing sex with her, there was something in the way she spoke. "You will get used to discussing such things." She told me, "Some of my customers, sorry, your customers, will ask your advice on things, and it's important you don't make them feel awkward." "You do actually like sex, don't you?" "Oh yes, just never been a great one to talk about it." Our conversations went on and covered most things, including not being surprised or shocked at just who in this small town bought what. "And that includes gentlemen coming in buying things for their wives, when you know darn well that they don't have a wife and have never been closer than six feet to a woman. Of course they pay a bit extra for my goods, but they don't dare complain." Brenda winked. Her eyes sparkling behind her butterfly wing glasses. "You will soon learn all the secrets of this small town. And, trust me, there are some interesting secrets to learn." Brenda generally was a conservative possibly an old fashioned dresser, she would sort of resemble your granny, with odd sort of fashionable bits sort of thrown in. Like for instance the once fashionable butterfly wing glasses. It was a bit of a surprise, when after the question about me liking sex, things turned in a somewhat odd direction. "So; you do like sex, heeerm, well, it may surprise you to know, so do I! Tomorrow, half day closing, there is something different." "Yes, tomorrow, afternoon tea with my girl friends." "Weeeel, tomorrow, there is a rep coming in the afternoon, I would like you to see him, he is good for a bit of extra discount." "I suppose I could put the girls off..." "Good, now make sure you dress a bit special, it will be appreciated, trust me, extra discount on your next order may depend on it. Have you had oral sex, I can tell you, with the right set up, and I have that, it's very, what shall we say, satisfying." "Talking sex, that didn't suggest satisfaction to me but I suppose I would get used to it." I always, even before my big win, had dressed quite smartly, even stylishly, although I had sort of dressed down for my new job. I, as they say, picked myself up a bit and I dressed in a more business like way the next day. I always thought that dressing was from the skin out so under a smart managerial style dark suit, which would not be out of place in the shop, I went to town with very well fitted corset and brassier, and real silk knickers and slip, and a crisp white blouse unbuttoned sufficiently to expose what I considered just enough cleavage. I was almost shocked when I saw that Brenda was dressed quite similarly, but with a fine lawn blouse and without the jacket that I had decided upon. The lawn blouse did nothing to conceal the very revealing lacy brassier which it self failed to conceal her darker aureoles and nipples. I couldn't help but think how sexy she looked despite her years. The morning, as on other half days was fairly quiet and we did quite a bit of sorting of stock that would need to go in a new business sale when I eventually had the place to myself. Then paper work, soon it was one o'clock, the closed sign was put on the door and the window blind let down. "He will arrive about ten past. When he knocks, you can let him in. Then let him wait in the shop. Call me. You take yourself to the stock room adjoining the office, I will take him to the office. If you move the bolt of Harris Tweed against the office wall, you will be able to hear and see the way I negotiate the discount, when business is done, I will call you, and introduce you and you can have a chat with him, and make sure you can get the same deal...or of course a better deal." It was in fact fifteen minutes later that there was a knock at the door. "We're closed." "I have an appointment with Madame du Pre." No one ever called Brenda 'Madame du Pre'. "You had better come in. I'll call her." I opened the door and admitted a quite striking, smartly suited, gentleman of about forty, slightly balding but very erect in posture. He entered almost timidly, and placed his samples case on the floor in front of the left hand counter. "If you wait here I will let her know you are here." I called to 'Madame' as I made my way as instructed to the stock room, thinking 'if all the reps are like him it can't be all bad' the 'Madame du Pre' thing was a bit odd, but each to his own I thought. I took down the bolt of tweed as instructed to find a small aperture in the wall affording an excellent view of the office. Brenda nodded to me as she went into the shop. "You're late. What the hell do you mean keeping me waiting?" "I'm so sorry Madame, I didn't mean..." "Stop your stupid snivelling." "...the traffic Madame..." "Don't give me that crap, the last time there was a traffic problem round here was when the big convoys went through the town during the Suez crisis. In the office. Now!" "What about that other lady Madame?" "Never mind her just get in there." Now to say I was surprised would be an understatement, I suppose stunned would have been more accurate, I had never heard Brenda speak to anyone like that either in tone or words. If you know what I mean, I was sort of embarrassed. I felt I was sort of intruding. I didn't want to move from my little window but equally I wasn't sure I wanted to see this poor man's discomfort. As if she sensed my feelings, Brenda looked past the man, his downcast eyes missing the wink she gave in my direction. I was very puzzled. "Lets get down to it." "Yes Madame, I have some new things for you this month, and I can give you some very good prices." "You will need to make them very good or you will go away without any order. Now show me what you have." "Madame, its very warm in here, may I please take off my coat?" "Oh, very well, but get on with it. I haven't got all day." He removed his top coat, and his jacket, in his shirt sleeves I got the impression that he had a large chest, well more that he was quite well developed, maybe a bit like Charles Atlas if you can remember him, you know the body builder chappie. "May I sit down Madame?" "You have your case there, it doesn't matter to me if you sit on the floor beside it or kneel." The lingerie spilled out from the case, as item after item was handed to Brenda as she stood over him, to be examined before being cast back at him, usually hitting him in the face and falling back into the jumble of the case. "Have you nothing else to show me this month?" "There is one more item Madame, but you may not want to see it." "Whether I want to see it or not, you had better show me." Where I ask myself had I been all my life. I was going from one shock to the next. The man stood and started to disrobe what on earth had this to do with my new business. In a very few minutes, he stood before Brenda, dressed in a most bizarre fashion. Highly polished black Oxford shoes, black calf length socks held up by, would you believe PINK garters, then a corselet, a flesh coloured one, the brassier of which was padded out with either falsies or handkerchiefs his outer clothes in a heap in the corner of the office. "Is this what I am supposed to be buying, a blinking corset." "Oooh Madame...please, please order something from me this month." He dropped to his knees. "There's nothing I wish to buy." Brenda looked so haughty as she looked down at him. "Please Madame, please, I will give you a good deal." "You know what I want, No sweetener, no order." "Yes Madame, I can give you the usual sweetener." "You may need to give more than the usual sweetener if you want an order this month, you are a bloody nuisance, you know that don't you." "I'll do anything, anything Madame." The man was kneeling on the hard flag stone floor of the office, Heck my knees ached just thinking of it. I couldn't see just how I was going to get as good a deal as Brenda suggested was possible. Then thing took a different turn. Brenda sat on the corner of her, no, my desk. The man shuffled towards her. Brenda lifted one leg and rested it on the man's shoulder. "May I Madame?" "Do it you nasty little man." He pushed her skirt up, revealing her stocking tops and transparent nylon lace trimmed knickers. "Get my fucking knickers off you pervert." Putting her hands on the desk behind her she lifted her bottom from the desk. "Oh yes Madame, yes." "Gently, don't be so fucking rough you idiot." "Sorry Madame." "You will pay to replace them if you ruin them." "From my feet up, start licking." He undid the white straps of her high heeled shoes and eased them from her feet, then with no more ado started to lick the soles of her feet, alternating between them. Gradually he progressed up Brenda's legs while I watched concealed in the stock room, I was beginning to get what you might call a bit agitated, you know, a bit damp down below. I heard her groan as he reached the naked flesh beyond the stockings, and by this time, despite myself, I had my hands under my skirt, pressed to my pussy. My knuckles where I would have liked something else to have been. Brenda's hairy pussy, exposed when he started his ministrations was now concealed by his head. The movements of his head and the way her head was thrown back, her mouth open and the guttural groans suggested what couldn't be seen, some sort of sexual thing working its magic on her essential parts. It certainly wasn't talking! Brenda almost shrieked as she clamped her legs together trapping his head between them as she presumably reached her orgasm. The man's head was lowered as he panted apparently exhausted with the effort he had made. As she recovered herself, a wink, and a hand gesture indicated that I should come to the office. I had hit my orgasm, unfortunately at my own hand almost at the same moment that Brenda had. I composed myself then with a sharp rap on the door thrust myself into the office. The poor guy was scared witless and cowered at Brenda's feet, "Get up you prick!" Brenda was far from sympathetic. The man stood, below his corset was a quite obvious, reasonable erection. "Yes Madame, Sorry Madame." He stood shamefaced before us. "He's a useless shit, but he can use his tongue reasonably. I have told him he will have to earn it if he wants an order. Here, sit on the corner here, and he can do his stuff. Make him earn the order, I am going to leave you to it chuck him out when you have done with him." The door closed behind him and I heard Brenda go up the stairs to her quarters. "Who are you Madame?" "My name is Doreen, and I have bought this shop from Brenda, she will be leaving soon." "Am I going to get an order Madame?" "Do you like this set up with Brenda, sorry, Madame du Pre?" "Oh yes Madame, I love it, but it makes me so, beg pardon, horny Madame. Would you like me to give you what Madame has from me. I will do it for you too." " Do you fuck...what's your name?" "I don't have a name I'm just useless shit, that's what Madame says." "Well, do you fuck?" "I do what you want Madame... anything." I was totally out of my place, shocked yet thrilled by the scenes I had witnessed. I, despite myself, was excited and in need of satisfaction. Unlike Brenda's needs, and treatment of this poor man, and, guilty as I felt at witnessing such a thing, I had needs, but not like this. I could not bring myself to humiliate the poor man. A man, who incidentally I didn't have any clue about. "Wait there." "Yes Madame." I went to the shop's small kitchen, and made tea. it gave me time to compose myself. I really had a need for a good cock and a decent, or if you prefer, indecent, fuck. The last I had had was some time back, amid the opulent splendour of my suite on the Queen Mary. The steward had been particularly helpful when I told him I wanted to complain to the Purser, and the Purser was equally helpful when I told him I had an itch I needed scratching if you know what I mean ladies. Later he sent down a very handsome Deck Officer to see if I felt better or if I needed any further assistance, which of course I did, well I would, wouldn't I? If anyone had found my sea legs on that voyage, I am sure they would have been either spread wide across my bed, or wrapped around a neck or waist, I found the throb of the engines more stimulating than anything in my entire life. My twin tub washing machine vibration had nothing on the throb of the old Queen or even the glamour but it is better than nothing. When I returned to place the tea tray on the desk the man was still standing where I had left him, The previous obvious erection now diminished. I just could not get the away from the fear in his eyes. I had been, there is no denying, sexually stimulated by the servicing of Brenda that I had witnessed. The spread thighs, the head back, the facial expressions and moans and his head bobbing away as his tongue worked on Brenda's private parts. But the rest of it, the domineering, the verbal abuse, and the hostile words did nothing for me. "Please sit." He started to sit on the flag stone floor. "No, not there, pull up that chair." I indicated the chair I used when I was going over the books alongside Brenda. I poured the tea, and handed it to him. He accepted with shaking hands, I thought he would spill it. "What's your name?" "Madame calls me a shit." "I am not interested in what Madame calls you, I like names." "So, what's your name?" "Cedric." "Well Cedric, I am the new boss here, 'Madame' as you call her is going, very shortly. My name is Doreen, you will find me a very different kettle of fish." "If I don't get orders, I don't get paid, and I have had to earn my orders from Madame." "I am new to the business, so I will need guidance on what to buy etc, so you will earn your orders, but not in the same way as with 'Madame'. Now take your clothes into the store room and dress yourself, and please, without the corsets. I will wait for you here." Cedric was a reasonably attractive man, you could even quite reasonably say handsome in a way. But yuk, in women's corsets? Well that just didn't do it for me. I felt disgusted with myself that I should have been so turned on by the earlier events. It wasn't the humiliation that did it, but the visual impact of the sexual activity. Of one thing I was sure, I didn't need any more of Brenda's guidance and the morning would see her leaving my premises for good and I would sink or swim by my own actions. Cedric returned to the office, now, smartly dressed, much as he had been when he arrived at the shop, right down to his full Windsor knotted tie. Not a hair on his brilliantined head out of place and now, without the corset, not so apparently over developed in the chest. "Right then Cedric, am I your last call today?" "You are, Madame always insisted." "Do you stay in town?" "Mostly I do, it depends on when Madame lets me go." "Here is my card, my home address, I will be home in about half an hour, can you meet me there? You and I need to talk." "Yes Madame." "That must be the last time you call me Madame, from now on, it must be Doreen. Ok?" "Ok Doreen." As soon as I had tidied up I locked up and headed home. There was just one butcher that I had to pass, that didn't close for the half day. Two tasty well hung pieces of best rump, ( I always enjoy 'well hung'),and half a pound of best beef dripping. I had onions, and potatoes in the house, it would take no time at all to knock up a meal of Steak and onions with chips, the beef dripping, do you remember girls what fantastic chips they were, fried in best beef dripping? I dumped the food on the kitchen table, I knew I had plenty of time. Into the bathroom, knickers off, warm, wet soapy flannel all around my essentials, (well it was long before showers were commonplace in UK homes). Brisk rub with a good fluffy towel, no, I don't want to cum again just now, ignore the tingle. Fresh knickers, no, not the nylon briefs, a pair of my nice silk Frenchies, dab of perfume, primp my hair, grab a clean pinny, and back to the kitchen. The grill was heating nicely, I had one of those new fangled eye level ones, when the front doorbell went. Cedric, looking very apprehensive stood on the step. "Come on in Cedric, Thank you for coming." Cedric entered very cautiously. "Steak, onions and chips do you?" "Pardon me?" "For a bite of dinner, will Steak, onions and chips do you?" "Thank you, but I don't know that I can eat anything." "Don't be so silly, grown man, surely you can manage a bit of dinner. I'm not going to bite. There's nothing to be bothered about" Cedric was obviously very ill at ease I lead him into the front room and offered a chair. He sat nervously, bolt upright on the front of the seat. Doreen's Good Fortune "Now which is it, a beer or a Sherry? I usually have a Sherry before my meal." "A Sherry please... if that's ok." "You just relax, and try to forget 'Madame' while I get some dinner. I eat in the kitchen so I will call you when its ready, give me your jacket." I hung the jacket in the hall, into the kitchen, dinner didn't take too long and soon I was calling Cedric to join me. The meal was most enjoyable, washed down as it was with a couple of glasses each of a good Burgundy, ok, so Burgundy, wine wasn't that popular in the home at that time, but hell, girls, you know what they say, if you've got it flaunt it, and I could afford it. As we relaxed in the front room after dinner, nice cup of tea, and a chat. "What was all that nonsense with Brenda?" "Brenda?" "Madame, if you must." Cedric Squirmed in his seat. "She caught me out one day, and said that if I didn't do as she demanded she would contact my Boss, a personal friend she said and tell them. Then I would lose my job, and lets be honest, jobs are not that easy to come by." "What do you mean, she caught you out?" "Let's just say," He was clearly embarrassed. "Look if you don't want to say, then don't." "No, let's just say, one day I had a bad stomach and had, shall we call it 'a personal embarrassment' I ended up wearing a pair of ladies under knickers, I don't know how she found out unless she was spying in the toilet, but she then used it against me." "You poor love." "Her demands were very unpleasant, the floor, my knees, and her unreasonable manner were not nice, but at least I got my orders. So I got paid." "That's all over now, today was her last day and I shall send her packing in the morning." "I wasn't the only rep she caught out! We do all talk when we meet up, I don't know the stories of the other chaps, but there is at least one more and possibly two." "I do hope you won't talk about me like that, other than maybe to say I am NOT Madame and I have different ways. I just hope you chaps won't take advantage of me as a new girl. I should hope you will all guide me." I have to say, I was quite taken by Cedric, he appeared to be a pleasant, mild mannered sort of chap. He wasn't that bad looking, wore those sort of roundy national Health spectacles of the time, as fashionable as Brenda's were, Cedric's were so, what I suppose we started calling square, yes, even though they were round. That thought made me smile to myself, god that was funny I thought. Anyway, with the several glasses of wine, and the good meal, and the pleasant company I was beginning to relax, kicked off my heels and put my feet up on the foot stool. Small talk had established that Cedric, he hated that name, was unmarried, ex RN, and around five years older than me. He had been a lingerie salesman since returning to civvy street, and quite a good one too, he said that having a liking for ladies, the idea of 'travelling in ladies under wear' had a certain appeal, and that the appeal had died the death with the meeting with Brenda or 'Madame' as he still habitually referred to her as. He was, never the less, one of the companies best salesman. "Well then Cedric, if you don't like being Cedric, what do I call you?" "We all had nicknames in the Navy, and mine was Dusty." "Dusty? You don't look dusty to me." "No, it's the nick name for people called Miller, and I am Cedric Miller." "Ok, if you like that, Dusty it is." Cedric, sorry, Dusty smiled, one of the sweetest smiles I have ever seen. "The question I asked you in the office at the shop, you didn't answer it properly Dusty so...?" "Sorry, what was the question again?" "I asked Dusty, do you fuck?" Dusty turned a vivid shade of red. "I...I...I..." "You don't have to answer if you don't want." "I was just going to say, yes I do, but Mad...sorry, she was never interested in that, if she was, it never involved me." "I only asked, because, I don't want any mis-understanding, I have my needs if you get my meaning. Got this itch I can't scratch myself, and like I said, I am not her." "If you are asking, no, I am not one of Churchill's 'Rum, Bum and Baccy' boys. I did used to take my "tot", and a tin of Navy tickler (cigarette tobacco) was a useful currency, seeing as I didn't smoke myself, and the 'bums' I liked were on the ladies!" "That's cleared that up then, I suppose the under garments were for Brenda's pleasure then." "Certainly not for mine, I didn't mind the silky knickers, but those corsets were hell!" We both laughed. "Dusty, if I ask nicely, would you...I mean will you, scratch my itch for me? I did see you with Brenda, and I can't in honesty say that I wasn't excited, not I hasten to add, by the way she treated you, but by the 'activity' if you get me." Dusty blushed. He didn't actually refuse me. "I suppose." Was all he said, so I took it, as they say for a 'yes'. I moved to the settee, quite an expensive cut moquette upholstered job and invited him to join me. He sat nervously beside me. I placed my glass on the coffee table, and taking his glass placed it also on the table. "Now," I put my arms about him, "don't you think I deserve a cuddle." Dusty was very tense as he snuggled in to me. I snuggled in to him, I was at ease totally, he sort of felt like a favourite dressing gown or slippers, sort of like he had been there all my life. "Do you think you can manage a kiss too?" He did of course, tentatively at first, then with a passion I had rarely experienced. My hand dropped to his crotch, his inevitably found its way to my boobies, and girls, did that guy know how to play a pair of tits, if they had been musical instruments he would have been playing Swan Lake, and cum, I think he's about the only guy whoever did that for me. I was going to say 'to me' girls, but it was more than that, because his one interest appeared at that moment to be ME. And, at that time he still hadn't got into my bra! Hadn't touched my naked tities, my moans gave him all the permission he needed. He reached behind and undid my bra, letting my titties fall free. His head dropped as he took first one then the other nipple between his lips, I don't know where he learned all his little tricks, but whoever it was that taught him all I could think was Thaaank yoooo. As he nibbled my nips, his hand dropped to my knees I felt his touch between them, then squeezed his cock, keeping rhythm as far as I could with the waves of pleasure that washed over me. Slowly his hand crept beneath my skirt, up along my legs to my stocking tops, his touch on that bit of damp sweaty naked flesh was electric. The silk of my Frenchies seemed to melt at his touch, certainly there was nothing to hold my legs together as his fingers parted my recently cleansed curls and fingered my silky furrow. The cums were stupid, one after the other rippling on and on, till at last I could take no more and clamped my legs together to prevent further movement. Dusty's fingers were trapped in my holy of holies, and still he somehow managed to titillate that most secret place. Whilst in Brenda's office I had some sort of glimpse of the contents of his pants, all be it, covered by his linen. Now I had my hand upon it, out side of his trousers, what expectations I had were exceeded several fold. How damned ignorant had Brenda been, there was so much more of this man than she ever achieved. Slowly, one at a time I unbuttoned his flies, this girls was before the advent of zipped flies, inserted my hand and disentangled his cock from his underwear. It stood as proud as any I had seen. His exposed knob glistened with his own juice under the soft light of the shaded standard lamp behind us. I dipped my head and kissed him, don't be silly girls, you know where. "Have you booked your hotel for tonight?" "No, not yet." I took a firm grip of his cock, and disengaging his hand from my nether regions I pulled him to his feet. "Come on." He needed little if any coaxing to follow me through the hallway and up the stairs. "There's the bath room," I nodded as we passed on the way to my bedroom. I threw the silk night dress, lying in the middle of my double bed where I had left it this morning into the corner of the room. Forgetting about my exposed tits, I crossed to the window and closed the chintz curtains before turning on the soft bedside light. Dusty stood quietly by the door. I went to him, and throwing my arms about him kissed him with all the passion I could muster, lips on lips, mouth on mouth, tongues, sucking, nibbling, scarcely drawing breath between. My hand went down between us, knocking his hand as I went, two, both with a single thought, to get their hands on the other's essential. We were jammed tight together, my hand achieved its goal, I had a grip on his cock, he, because my skirt was fairly tight, could only try to grope me outside of it. Not wishing to separate, I pulled Dusty as I moved backward from the door to my bed, as the backs of my legs came in contact with the bed I turned us and we fell onto the bed. Me on top, my legs spread insufficiently apart, impeded by my skirt, despite the fact that it had ridden up almost to the tops of my stockings. The situation was urgent, I wanted, girls, I desperately wanted, you know how urgent it gets, yes, that urgent. I decided...I wanted... and it had to be right. I rolled off him, I had to smile, his spectacles were all cock eyed. His hand was instantly back to my tits. "Do you have your overnight things in your car?" "Yes." "Why don't you go down and get them, leave the door on the latch so you can get back in." Time had run on and it was about half ten, a good job really, there would be no one about at that time, so his state of undress would go unnoticed. I sat on the bed while Dusty was away, trying to compose myself, but no matter how I tried, I couldn't get away from the fact that a fucking itch needed fucking scratching excuse my language girls. But it gets to you doesn't it? I threw back the bed clothes and when Dusty returned with his toiletries, I stripped him to his shorts and vest, fallas wore them in those days if you remember such things girls.. His cock was sticking out of his shorts, and although he no longer had the pink suspenders he was still firmly attached to his socks. He sat in my bed, propped up by the pillows. Slowly, teasingly I removed my blouse, I unfastened my skirt, and let it slither down my legs to the floor. My bra, previously undone I shrugged from my arms. Dusty's clothes and mine, scattered on the floor, how long had it been since I had this sort of an evening, I'll tell you girls, too long. I knelt on the bed beside him, he looked longingly at my now naked breasts. He licked his lips. We kissed, his hand was on me, my tits getting a return to the treatment they had earlier. I had a firm hold of his cock, and I was working round to ensuring that it was going to go where I wanted it. Much as my tit were enjoying his handy work, I took his hand an drew it down my belly, hoping that the message would be received. There was no conversation, no words were needed actions as they say speak louder. The feel of his hand passing over the silk was out of this world. Up the leg of my Frenchies, parting my curly mat, stroking my silky wet slit and into my eagerly waiting hole. His hand was withdrawn, it was cool and wet at my waist, just for a moment before easing past the elastic and moving down over my belly, once more ruffling through my curls and into my wetness. He touched my clit, it felt electric as I came with a moan and bucked my hips in his direction. "Would you like me to get rid of these?" he tugged at the leg of my knickers. I wasn't capable of coherent speech, I was so in lust with Dusty but fortunately he took my moans as consent and eased them down, at first just a little, returning his fingers to keep pussy happy, then continuing to ease them right off my raised bottom and down my legs to join the rest of the garments on the floor. You know how it is girls, well, I know how it is for me, when I am really horny, I can't wait to fuck about with fancy positions, I just want that cock in me, and I will tell you, I was HORNY. Flat on my back, legs spread wide and a very wet pussy just waiting to be filled. So what, missionary position, plenty of time to get fancy when this hole had been filled and this pussy had sucked up a portion of cream. Having discarded my knickers, Dusty turned back to me. "Gunna have it or what?" I'll always remember that question. "Ooooh yes, Ooooh yes, if you're giving it I'm having it." He eased between my legs, I grabbed his cock, I had no intention of this cock missing its target. His knob parted my lips, I pushed my hips, he thrust his, and I got a satisfying full length, I started to cum, and he, Dusty, bless him followed, dousing my insides with best 'man juice'. I felt every squirt, every wad as it hit my depths. Dusty collapsed on top of me as I clamped my legs about him. "Fuck...fuck...fuck.!" I panted. Dusty laughed. "I haven't had such a fast and juicy fuck in years." He panted in my ear. I released his waist, my legs fell asunder. "Phew! Brenda hadn't a clue what she was missing." I could feel myself glowing with the exertion of this frantic coupling. We rolled apart, and I know it sounds disgusting girls, but I really relished the sensation of our combined juices dribbling out of me. "Dusty grab a towel from the bathroom, or we will be sleeping in a wet bed tonight, and it will be on your side." As he returned to me I had to smile as his now semi flaccid cock was hanging forlornly from his pants with jus a small drip of cum on the end. Dusty lay down again beside me. Everything felt right. We snuggled together, he now divested of his pants. His hands orchestrating a fantastic symphony on my titties, and me caressing his organ. The trill ringing of the alarm clock indicated the end a long nights deep sleep. Dusty had slept naked, and I, in just stockings and suspenders. I shed them, the remaining items, of the previous night's adventure and dived into the bathroom to urgently empty my bladder and get washed and ready for work. As I washed, Dusty came in and relieved himself, I dressed, not as yesterday all fancy, but in as business like manner as I could. Breakfast...he deserved a full English, but had to be satisfied with toast and marmalade. We left together, Dusty having promised to return later, after work. Parking Daisy (my Morris Minor) at the kerbside, I took a good deep breath, meeting Brenda this morning was going to be a bit of a to do. I had been in about ten minutes, made myself a cup of tea, and had the shop open when Brenda came down to the shop. She Stretched. "That was a satisfying night's sleep. I feel quite refreshed." "You do?" "Yes, a session with Cedric does me the world of good. Did you sort him? Did he offer you a good discount on your order?" "I think this conversation would be best in the office Brenda." I flipped the door sign to 'closed' and dropped the catch, following Brenda into the office. "Brenda." "Yes dear?" "Brenda, I was absolutely disgusted at the way you treated that man." "He deserves no better." "Its not my way, and I won't tolerate it." "Suit yourself, but I used to get very good discounts from him." "If that's what it takes, and I'll bet it isn't, I 'll manage without the discounts." "As I said, suit yourself." "Brenda, I think you have outstayed your welcome in My shop. I won't be needing your support from now on." "That's not a problem, I'll stay out of your way and watch as you struggle." "I don't know where your new place is, but I do know you are moving in today." "What?" "Your new place, you are moving in today." "Its not ready, and anyway, the deal isn't final yet." There was a glint of panic in her eyes. "My solicitor says its all complete. The papers were exchanged on Monday." "Don't believe you." "Phone's there, ring yours and check. Be my guest." Brenda rang, she was not a happy bunny. Her lawyer confirmed my statement. "Well my new place is not ready so I'll stay till it is." "No dear, you won't. You have until four o'clock today. If you are not packed and gone by then I will shut up shop and throw you out myself." "All because of Cedric?" "I couldn't accept the way you treated him, and I won't have you here a moment longer." "He's just a shit." "He is a sweet sensitive gentleman, and even if he wasn't he still deserves respect. Anyone deserves respect." "What about me?" "For you, special offer, I'll make an exception. Be out by Four." I left the office. There was silence. It was a quiet day in the shop, and I took the opportunity to review the things I needed for stock, I would be seeing Cedric, no, must get used to Dusty, later, I could discuss my needs with him. I could hear movement in the flat above, so I knew things were happening. At four, Brenda appeared again. With a couple of suitcases. " I haven't got everything, I've lived here a long time, there is a lot of stuff..." "Don't worry, there are two big dustbins outside, they should accommodate quite a bit of the remainder. If you want it you can empty the bins yourself after four tomorrow." "Please, can't you let me come back and clear the rest of my things?" "Come into the office." She followed me. "Now what do you want?" "Allow me to collect all of my things, I can get a man and a lorry to come tomorrow." "Of course," I had a sudden thought. "Of course, if you were on your knees, here in this office and asked me I suppose I could consider it." "But those flagstones are hard, they will hurt my knees." "How many times did you have Cedric on his knees, and in pain just to satisfy your perverted attitude?" "I had to do that to get the discounts." "Now, I have to do it to repay you on behalf of those you hurt. So, it's your choice." Brenda dropped to her knees on the small rug by the desk. "Not good enough, on the stone flags or no deal." She moved onto the flagstones. "I won't be long, wait there." I went into the tore room to watch her. When I returned, she was in tears. "Get up." She struggled to her feet. "Not nice is it?" She didn't respond, her head bowed and weeping. "Sunday, ten o'clock then anything still here I will dispose of. I have someone who will be here with the key. Now hand over all of your keys." She did so. "Thank you. Now get out. I have no place in my life for folks like you." She picked up her cases and moments later was on the pavement outside, the shop door banged shut behind her. She was till standing there when I left for home some half hour later. Seems she had very few friends, she had hurt too many, and no taxies available, shame. As I drove off, she was slowly heading, her cases in hand in the direction of the "Shepherds Arms." Dusty arrived at my home not long after me, and after a quiet, quite simple meal we found ourselves in each other's arms on the settee. There was a bit of business to discuss, and believe me, the discounts I got were far better than any Brenda had ever got, and I had the bonus of a bed warmer and a very sexy man. I expect you can guess who it was that supervised Madame's departure on Sunday, and who gave me a hand to throw out the bits she left behind. I doubt you will be surprised that about a month later Dusty and I decided that we should make it legal, he gave up travelling, and in the shop he was a far better sales person than ever I could be. Everyone, ladies and men liked him, and he dealt civilly and tactfully with all who came to the shop. We had a great life together, my winnings made for great holidays, the shop prospered. Doreen's Good Fortune Sorry to say, and it comes to us all girls, just after our thirty second wedding anniversary, I lost him, that was about ten years ago now, and I sure miss him, and no, no one else for me. He was a truly great lover, not overly big in places if you know what I mean, but the tunes he played on my titties and the cream he gave to my little pussy...