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Mrs Codd

By: Egmont Grigor



CHAPTER 1

It was after midnight and snowing. The lights of the restaurant in the small town on Long Island turned off and Gus the proprietor embraced his night manager and wished Mrs Glade Banks well.

"Once again I ask," said Gus. "Where will you relocate?"

"I've told you. I'll decide when I go to the airport tomorrow."

"You're burying your past, aren't you?"

"Yes. Goodbye Gus."

Glade walked off, her footsteps punching through new snow that had began falling almost four hours ago and now it was just after 1:00. At present and for a long time there had been little joy in her life. She intended changing that.

Next morning Glade entered the terminal and heard an elderly couple ask a security guy which way to catch a flight to Los Angeles. The officer pointed the couple to a woman in a United Airlines uniform.

An hour later Glade, now calling herself Miss, dropping the title Mrs, boarded a near-full flight and left for LA, burying her past. She'd moved into the town on Long Island eighteen months earlier and four months later married Mark Glade who owned a vehicle-servicing center. Mark was now serving time for bigamy, Glade's marriage being nothing more than memories and a scrap of worthless paper. She'd been left virtually broke and worked at Gus Little's restaurant seven days a week until she'd saved $10,000, often working double shifts. After her bank balance exceeded her target Glade felt financially secure enough to move away to begin a new life.

The attractive 27-year old carried her coat, blinking in the bright LA sunlight, and fished out sunglasses.

"Jules?"

Well, that was an original pickup line Glade thought. She replied politely no, that was not her name.

"I'm supposed to meet Jules Johnston, my new personal assistant from New York. She is tall and blonde."

"Well good luck," Glade said.

The kind-faced guy of 50-something smiled and said thank you.

Minutes later the guy walked by escorting a tall blonde. He swung back and said, "Miss, may we drop you off in the city?"

"Well..."

"No strings attached. I'm just been polite. After all you could have said go away you creep."

"Indeed but then I was reared to be polite. Thank you, I accept your offer."

Glade, of course, had no idea she'd just met her next husband, Frank Guthrie Codd, a millionaire insurance broker.

"I'm Glade Banks."

"Glade, what a pretty name. I'm Frank Codd and this is my niece I haven't seen in almost ten years, Jules Johnstone."

"Hi Jules, how did you find your uncle?"

She laughed and said she did what her mother had suggested and looked for an overweight guy in a striped suit and diagonally striped tie looking for someone."

"It worked." said Mr Codd. "Call me Frank girls." He escorted them to a black Mercedes car in a no-parking zone and tipped the official standing beside it.

"Sit in the back together girls. Jules you said you were nervous about coming to LA and knowing only me, and then only vaguely, and a handful of relatives. Well you now know Glade who is your age."

"I'm twenty-seven," said Jules.

"Ditto," laughed Glade. "I'm the victim of a bigamist and have fled the shame and the snow of New York to begin a new life."

"Oh my dear," Frank said. "What a damn shame."

"Yes," Jules said, "How horrible for you. Where are you staying?"

"I'll find somewhere. I went to the airport this morning not knowing where I would go but thought something would come up. When I entered the terminal I heard someone asking directions for the flight to Los Angeles so thought something had come up."

"Oh how brave of you. I could never do that," Jules said.

"Is this guy in prison?"

"Yes Frank, with another eighteen months to go."

"Glade, may I invite you to stay with us for a while until you find your feet? There is a permanent house keeper and a cook so you won't feel alone and I'm sure Jules would appreciate the company."

"Oh yes, please accept Glade."

Glade moved in and stayed in that house for eight years.

A month after arriving at Codd Mansion as Frank called it, Jules was invited away for a weekend and for the first time Glade went out alone with Frank. He termed it 'an auspicious occasion'.

It was certainly astonishing for Glade because over the table at his club Frank picked up Glade's hand and declared he'd fallen head over heels in love with her.

"Please don't call me a stupid old fool."

"No, never would I do that Frank. I admire you. You are courteous, generous and even-tempered. I cannot fault you but I don't love you -- how can I? We barely know one another."

"We see each other every day. You have grown on me Glade. You are beautiful and charming. I watch the way you move. When I run my eyes over your body I have that woman's complaint, hot flushes."

Glade giggled and said that was lust. "So this is about sex?"

"Yes but more than that. I have fallen in love with you."

"You are confusing desire for love Frank. Well if you must know I do admire you, so if you'd like a night of sex well so would I. It has been some time for me and I rather like it."

"Two nights -- Jules is also away tomorrow night."

Glade smiled and said, "Down boy. Don't get too keen."

On the way home Glade asked, "This must stop after tomorrow night. I don't wish Jules to know about this."

"She already knows."

"Frank, that is impossible. Nothing has happened yet."

"I've confided my feelings about you to Jules when she said she'd be away this weekend. She said then what a perfect opportunity for me to make my pitch. She said you like me."

"I would have preferred had you not said anything to Jules."

"Well I'm glad I did. I would have been too nervous to make the pitch without her support."

"Oh Frank."

"Oh Glade."

"No I meant oh Frank, should we be doing this?"

"Of course we should -- boy or rather old man likes girl. Girl can tolerate old man and is spiritually lonely. So they merge."

"Oh what a lovely way of putting it. Frank, we have been drinking. We may end up disappointed."

"Oh yeah," Frank said, turning to make sure Glade saw his leer.

The first thing Jules said after greetings were exchanged on Sunday evening was, "Did you two make it to bed?"

"Y-yes," Glade said bravely and Frank looked at her admiringly.

"Nice one uncle. I'd like you two to sleep together every night. You'll be good together. Who knows, it may lead to bigger things."

Well it certainly gave Glade a new life. She was introduced to Frank's business and social friends including friends of his wife who'd died during medical misadventure two years earlier.

Two months later Frank married Glade at a civil wedding attending by 120 guests including the parents of Jules who was chief bridesmaid.

The couple insisted Jules stay on living at the house and she agreed. Frank worked into the evening whereas she left the office at 5:30 so she and Glade would then go shopping or to the beach or take in an early film. If they went to the theatre they always went as a threesome and then that because a foursome when Jules found a university lecturer in anthropology called Mark Sloan.

Sadly, six months after the wedding Frank collapsed and died running up the stairs of his office.

After grief-stricken Glade regained her composure she drove Jules to the airport. Jules had been dumped by Mark and so decided to return home.

"Why don't you come back with me?" Jules pleaded yet again.

As expected she received the same answer, "No, my life is here now. I am giving you a gift I can easily afford and you are to accept it without any fuss. You befriended me on my first day in this city and as a result of that I got my confidence back and then landed well and truly on my feet."

Jules looked at the check for $500,000. "You shouldn't have."

"Well I have so shut up darling."

Half an hour later at security they cried into their final farewell and pledged to stay in touch.

Glade tipped the official and drove off from the VIP area feeling she was beginning yet another life. She parked as soon as she could outside of the airport and wept, feeling alone again. Well it was now up to her, wasn't it? She nodded and dried her eyes.

* * *

Glade's attorney had estimated she would be worth between $70-$75 million after probate. A partner had already purchased Frank's majority stockholding in the business. Glade was so sad that Frank had been addicted to making his fortune and had been loathed to spend time enjoying it on world travel and being in pursuit of other things. It was also sad he'd not been able to father children. She accepted he liked nothing better than being engaged in the pursuit of legitimately taking money off other people and that of course is how fortunes are assembled.

The first task facing Glade after the funeral was to appoint a person to act as her business and social secretary. Glade interviewed eight people that the agency had short-listed for her and chose an elderly widow who lived close by. It was a perfect arrangement because during mutual downtime Mrs Guy, Olga the young cook and Mrs Monk the housekeeper played cards and drank red wine. 

Glade regarded that appointment, her first independent business decision, as perfect. She established a bank account from which Mrs Monk had authority to draw $20,000 a month to allocate to worthy causes from begging letters that came in. Should those letters dry up Mrs Monk had authority to allocate available funds to the charity or charities of her choice.

Genuine suitors or charlatans had been calling from two days after the funeral but Glade found her own men, usually at the club where widows were eligible to continue their husband's membership. She took up tennis lessons and swimming lessons at the club and was attracted to the athletic tennis coach, as were many women. His name was Rodney Beamish and he was took an interest because he'd never heard of a woman called Glade and when she laughed he caught the eye twinkle and then when she came out for the first lesson and he saw her great legs he focused, oh how he focused. Two days later he called Glade.

"I can't stop thinking of you. Complain to management if you wish."

"Why would I want to do that? I'm flattered you have noticed me."

"You are?"

"Yes, I'm looking for a male to stay the night. Drop around if you are interested."

"When?"

"Why waste time, tonight. I was told you were not currently in a relationship."

"Correct, so you checked up on me?"

"Yes but didn't know what to do next."

"When you came out in your outfit I thought wow."

"You must think that about a lot of women clients?"

"I do, but when you bent over to pick up a ball I thought oh momma mia."

"I have been told I have great legs and a great ass. Don't be too long coming Rodney. I mean don't be too long coming to my place. Here's the address and my phone number."

"I have it. I'm your tennis professional, remember?"

"Oh yeah."

* * *

Glade took the powerful looking cock in her hands and gave its underside a gentle lick down to Rodney's hairless balls.

"What do you think?"

"As far as cocks go it's almost beautiful."

"Thank you." 

She giggled, "My pleasure, I hope."

He grinned. "You have a lovely home."

"I do, recently inherited, but I suppose you have checked up on me and know that?"

Rodney said yes.

"I suppose you go into many lovely homes and apartments of clients requiring extra service?"

"Some, yes, but I turn down more requests than I accept."

"Wear a condom before shoving this beautiful thing up me."

"It's my practice Glade. Would you care to get your mouth around it?"

Later when Rodney sank his missile into her Glade groaned in delight. Right at that moment she thought she was where she wanted to be in life.

Rodney returned twice a week for six weeks before he indicated he wouldn't be returning.

"What, am I that much of a bore?"

"No far from it although you won't give me your butt. You don't give me expensive gifts or money."

Glade was rather angry to hear that. "Why pay for it when it's widely available for free?"

"I'm a high cut above the pack," Rodney said loftily.

"Kid me not Rodney. Off you go. Oh, cancel my booked lessons.

"Goodbye bitch."

That miffed Glade. She considered she'd done nothing to deserve that title. Ah well, he was only a guy whose life revolved around tennis.

A thought struck her: what did her life revolve around? Well, until a minute ago it had been revolving around sex twice a week with Rodney Beamish.

Three days later Glade was sitting in the office of the dean of Frank's former business school that had lost contact with him over the years. There had been few bequests in his will and his business school that had launched him on his career had not been one of them.

"How much in donations did this college receive in the past financial year Dr Mitchell?"

"Oh Mrs Codd, please call me Judith. The figure was $1.7 million, not one of our better years I regret to say."

"My late husband was a former student here."

"I did take the liberty of looking up students of your husband's name there is only one Codd recorded, Frank Guthrie Codd and has been out of touch with us for years."

"Frank was my husband. He was too busy making money to give it away. Do you have a building project planned?"

"Several but the next one due to start is construction of the planned permanent main entrance to our MBA center."

"If I were to donate to that project generously could it be named The Frank Codd MBA Center? Frank came back to this college well into his career to complete an MBA."

"Just a moment Mrs Codd."

Dr Mitchell put on her glasses and brought up Frank's record on her laptop. "He did indeed Mrs Codd, completing it eleven years after gaining his master's in business administration. I don't wish to appear rude but how much have you in mind to donate?"

"How does $5 million sound?"

Judith almost dropped her coffee cup.

"That will please this college no end, Mrs Codd. That would be a magnificent donation and my recommendation to the council will express your wish for the memorial naming of the MBA center."

"Thank you Judith. I shall instruct my chief attorney this afternoon."

A few days later the wives of two of Frank's younger friends invited the even younger Mrs Codd to the club for drinks and they sat in the paneled octagon room. It was almost empty and Marsha said it was such a shame but most women didn't like sitting in rooms with no windows in daylight. Most preferred the glassed sunroom that lacked character.

"The club should do something about it," Glade said.

"They won't," Yvonne groaned. "The only way to get natural light in here is through the roof and the governing committee is against that. The men want the present pool replaced for one twice that size so all available money for improvements is being diverted to realized that project."

Sipping her cocktail through a glass straw Glade looked up at the ceiling some 12 feet above them. Early next evening she attended a meeting with the club president and CEO.

"Mrs Codd, I don't think you understand," said the stuffed-shirt president. "A modification was proposed to that room almost ten years ago and the governing committee rejected the proposal."

"Well a lot of water goes under the bridge in ten years."

"Is that so," said Mrs Stewart, the CEO. "Only one member of the 12-member committee has changed since then."

"What if I come up with a proposal that knocked their socks off?"

The president and CEO exchanged glances and the CEO said, "Like what?"

"Give me a copy of the plans and specifications of the main building and I'll go to an architect and see what she can come up with."

"She?"

"Yes Mr Jacobs. I prefer to consult female professionals because they tend to be more thorough. "I'll pay the total cost of the modifications if I come up with a proposal that is accepted by you and your committee."

"You will?"

Glade sighed. "Please authorize Mrs Stewart to loan me a copy of the plans and specification for two weeks."

"But our architects would want to do any design work."

"Are they female Mr Jacobs?"

"Ah."

"We have a dilemma Mr Jacobs. The plans please or this possible improvement to the octagonal room is lost."

"I'm sorry Mrs Codd. It's our architects or nothing."

"Good evening Mrs Stewart, Mr Jacobs."

Glade went to the office and picked up a nomination form for next month's election of club officers. She then asked Janet to print out the names of women members who were architects and their profiles. Returning home she phoned Marsha and Yvonne and invited them to lunch next day. Over lunch they were appalled to learn about the way Glade had been treated over her offer to present a redesign of the octagon roof that would allow natural light into the boxed off room. 

"Would you ladies please sign and second this nomination form as club president?"

"Yes they chorused," and signed.

"I don't wish to be president. God, it would be too much like hard work. This is just tactical, to get old stuff shirt to agree to having the plans and specifications handed over to me."

"But he could block you later down the track," Yvonne said.

"Fuck," Glade said and her two companions looked around nervously and then grinned.

"I overlooked that probability."

"Wait, my mind has slipped up a couple of cogs," Marsha smiled. "Have your lady design the roof modifications and have the club's architects be the onsite supervisors."

"Marsha, that's marvelous. That is likely to be the way forward, satisfying our grumpy president and me. I'll still put my nomination in and he'll take me aside to find how he could persuade me to withdraw. I also plan to raise another proposal at the annual meeting to get this pool project over and done with. Unless we do it will drain club coffers and shoot the club's maintenance and renewal program to shreds."

"Oh yes, quite right." Marsha said. "I hadn't thought of that and I'm supposed to be bright. We could be in danger of becoming Scruffy Club instead of the Regent Club."

When Yvonne left for a dental appointment Marsha asked, "Are you still having an affair Rodney Beamish -- no one seems to know?"

"Oh, I thought I was being discreet."

"We women without jobs have the job of finding out who is sleeping with whom and whose relationship is breaking up."

"We separated ten days ago."

"Bored?"

"I can't speak for him but it was going fine by me and then he groaned I wasn't giving him presents or money."

"God, Rodney fucked you for several weeks without getting anything in return?"

"Marsha, please. I really put my whole effort into my role."

"No, no -- I mean it's presents or money up front with Rodney otherwise he doesn't unzip.

"Let's destroy his heartless attitude to sex Marsha. You are free to let it be known that I received at least eleven visits from Rodney and no money or presents or anything passed hands."

"Are you sure I can do that?"

"Yes, let's put his mind back on to tennis."

"If this really gets out will you become a legend Mrs Codd."

As Glade giggled Marsha looked at her thoughtfully. "Darling, are you between guys at present?"

"Yes."

"I wonder if this may interest you. My stepson who is thirty-five is staying with us. Last year he caught me at a weak moment and got into my pants. He's very good. He's married and lives in St Paul, but being married doesn't appear to keep him in check. Would you like to come to dinner tomorrow night and meet him?"

"Don't you care for his wife?"

"No. She's aggressive and on drugs. Come by cab and I'll get him to take you home in my car. Then the ball will be in your court."

"Thank you sweetie but I must decline the set-up for possible sex. If he's married he's not for me. I'm sorry."


Mrs Codd



"That's okay. Come to dinner anyway and enjoy the adult conversation. I'll arrange it so you can just slip away unnoticed."

And that's what happened. Marsha had catering contractors in and they served a wonderful meal and much later when people began to yawn Marsha announced Glade was off-color and called a cab and it was over so smoothly.

* * *

Marsha and Glade had finished lunch when the president intercepted them moving to the lounge for coffee. 

"Mrs Codd, may I have a word?"

"Yes of course Mr Jacobs. We'll get our coffee and come right along to your office."

"We?"

"Oh yes Mr Jacobs. Mrs Collins is my campaign manager. I take it this is business?"

"Am I?" Marsha said in surprise."

"Um, Mrs Collins you are most welcome to accompany Mrs Codd."

Mr Jacobs said, "You ladies might not be aware that I require at least two more terms as president to achieve the objectives I set out for my tenure when first elected two years ago."

"Would you like me to withdraw my nomination Mr Jacobs?"

"Well, since you ask I must say you are far too young to become president of an esteem club like this and are not generally known to members. But having to fight an election rather than standing unopposed again could take a chip or two out of my solid image."

"Well, you know the terms for my withdrawal Mr Jacobs or at least you can guess what they are."

"You want the plans and want a woman architect?"

"Allow me to modify that to something perhaps more acceptable to you Mr Jacobs. You hand over the plans and specifications, I engage a female architect of my choice, you push the project through on my behalf on the understanding I pay all costs and we appoint the club's architects to supervise construction to their satisfaction."

"I... er... well I believe that meets my objection."

Five minutes later Glade scribbled a note saying she'd withdrawn her nomination.

Glade took Marsha to the bar and purchased two brandy cocktails.

"Darling, you are the most exciting friend I have. I have a degree in romance languages and you didn't make college and I'm nine years older than you and yet you leave me for dead. I have trouble keeping up with your mental agility."

"I don't know what it is Marsha but I just seem to have it. Men in particular seem to find me intellectually troublesome."

Glade approached Marcia Rowlands, the senior partner at a small practice of three architects, two of whom were women. Marcia, a club member who knew Glade by sight, was in her late thirties and was aware of the problem of the octagon room as her mother and mother were members of the club and had complained about the inhospitable nature of the room.

"I'd like the roof to become an opaque geodesic dome sitting on a square plinth, I think you'd call it, and the sides of that plinth splayed out and glazed in multicolored stained glass to produce interesting lighting effects below."

"Oooh, I see you have the plans and specifications but I know the room. What you are asking for would be an architectural disaster I'm afraid Mrs Codd."

"Please call me Glade. Is it because the span is two wide?"

"You have it Glade. Also there would be weatherproofing problems and heat dispersal problems in our climate and problems in even distribution of light. I will admit that non-technically it was an imaginative concept."

"Thank you Marcia. Let me explain why I'm on this mission. I wish to do something for the older women of the club. Club management is diverting all available funds to replacing the pool and..."

"I'm familiar with concrete technology. There is no need to completely demolish the current pool. It is feasible to lengthen it and widen it, saving huge costs. The club has a builder and road engineer who are pushing that project and have not sought the opinions of in-ground tank construction experts."

"But this is a swimming pool?"

A swimming pool is just a sexy tank darling -- oh, pardon me for familiarity.

"No that's fine; I find it very friendly. But let's leave this pool aside for the time being. It's something else I'll have to get my teeth into. So what do you suggest with roof lighting into the Octagon Room?"

"We could do it with a series of solar dome lights, each just over twenty inches across, or we could design perhaps four rows of clerestory across the roof facing north, away from the sun. They tend to look ugly but allow me to sketch the ugly look and then if we add a bit of flair but a whole lot most cost we come up with a scallop look."

"Oooh, I see the difference. Scallops please."

"They could be as much as three times more to construct."

"It doesn't matter. A great many buildings overlook our main building with parking beneath and our club needs to show class Marcia."

"I agree. I admire your style Glade."

"Well would four banks of scallops give the daylight that would draw older women back into the finest room in our club?"

"Yes, subject to lighting calculations. Those ugly clerestory panes are more efficient at admitting light than the scallop shapes but we can increase the height of the scallops to get the level of lighting to optimum. That trade-off means greater expense. A lighting expert will advise us on that and how the transmitted light is reflected and dispersed inside the building. Fortunately we have virtually unrestricted height to design for that."

"It sounds complicated."

"It is. Leave it with me Glade. I will need to open an account for you."

"Now, about the pool," Glade said. "At the annual meeting next month I'll propose a funding scheme to get this project done and out of the way so that sufficient club funds go back again to the maintenance and renewal program to avoid us becoming Scruffy Club."

"Marcia laughed. "I know the dimensions of the present pool and have a newsletter giving the dimensions of the replacement pool. My brother Simon designs concrete water supply tanks for high-rise buildings and also below-basement water storage tanks. I'll ask him to give approximate estimates for the demolition and removal of the present pool and the construction of the replacement and also the extension of the present pool including spelling out the extra costs in fusion with the old with the new to avoid leakages. His estimates would include earthquake-proofing design costs."

"Great, I'd like to meet him."

"I would like that to happen too, and not to just share an interest in concrete design, if you get my meaning. He's my younger brother."

* * *

Simon proved to be a no-no. He was dour, perhaps without humor, and didn't appear to look at Glade's body at all. She was rather put out. Simon then told her he'd brief one of his assistants who could jump into the appraisal immediately whereas he had another project requiring urgency.

"It's a damn above a small community requiring strengthening following discovery of cracking. I think I would be more than criticized if the damn leaked excessively, or worse, while I was diverted by a gentleman's club swimming pool extensions."

"Our club has female members as well, including your sister," Glade sniffed.

"Once we have the information the design will be generated tested and then check-out by me before it goes to you the client," he said earnestly.

"Very well, bring on McSpudden."

"McFadden actually."

"Oh sorry."

"Harry, this is Mrs Codd."

Glade almost dropped her panties on the spot. The redhead eyed her body the way in which it was designed for. Harry's green eyes flicked over her blue ones and she caught the half-wink and her palms perspired. He was gorgeous. Tall, long hair that appeared to be a stranger to a comb, opened-necked shirt when everyone else in the building appeared to be strangled by ties and wore misshapen suits of conservative tailoring. Oh yes, Mr Harold McFadden could work on her design.

"Lunch Mrs Codd?"

"Yes thank you Mr McFadden."

"I'll fetch my sketch pad and a job sheet."

"Lunch -- but it's only 11:00," Simon frowned. He was ignored.

It was a two-hour lunch and once Harry had recorded design detail he was into Mrs Codd about what made her tick. Glade couldn't remember a guy on a first date, or even after several dates and two husbands as well, ever asking what was her preference against her skin -- cotton, synthetic or silk.

She said silk and the eyes of engineer McFadden gleamed.

He went back to work and she wandered around in a daze. Even so she brought a range of tantalizing camisoles, bras and panties in silk for Harry McFadden to slobber on if he had the courage to date her.

Harry hadn't called her within the hour so Glade gave up on him. She'd fallen asleep in front of TV when he called at 3:20.

"Hi it's Harry. What are you doing?"

"Oiling my legs."

The phone connection was bad because there was a gurgling noise on the line but it cleared quickly.

"I need the test drilling report on the pool site."

"Why?"

"Because a pool 165ft long by 65ft wide by 6.5ft deep contains about 2800 tons of water."

"I guess that's significant?"

"Yes."

"I'll get that information. I need to talk to the builder who's driving the project."

"What kind of builder."

"Campbell Brown's company builds apartment blocks."

"Oh Christ."

"Not good?"

"If will be okay if you can keep him and me separated."

"I'll do my best. I guess if it gets tough I can use my body."

The gurgling interference was back on the line.

"What are you eating?"

Glade thought of saying peeled grapes but said, "Nothing".

"You women and your dieting. Want to come around at 7:00 for lightly poached salmon?"

God, Harry was proposing fish followed by sex. "Where is around?"

"The apartment I share with my mother."

"That sounds safe."

The gurgling noise was back again.

Harry gave Glade the address and suggested she wear easy divested clothes.

"What, on our first date?"

"This is a meal at home, not a date per se."

"Oh the apartment is on the shoreline?"

"What? No. We have a lap pool on our extensive deck. Oh bring your swimsuit if you feel that's necessary."

"Is it?"

"No, mom will be glued to her favorite soaps on TV."

"May I keep my panties on?"

"You can wear rainproof gear in the pool for all I care. I'll be wearing Bermuda pants."

"Oh thank you. That is most helpful."

"In what way."

"It tells me what I should wear."

"You women are amazing; you minds are far more complex than combinatroics."

"Is that complimentary?"

"Yes."

"Oooh." 

The apartment was huge and austere, the kind that Glade didn't like because it was untouched by human hand. No way could professional style designers be called human and they dealt in abstract theory and occupants were best kept in sterile environments although color was permissible in a flashy sort of manner. She would prefer a cabin to this $10,000,000 monstrosity. Mommy must be loaded.

Glade, wearing five-inch heels, mottled pink Capri pants and a ribbed striped halter-top and no jewelry at all but latest designer shades propped on to her blonde hair that was pinned up because it was after 6:00, pushed the doorbell. 

Harry opened the door, gurgled, and said "Jesus."

Oh no, she thought, she was over-dressed -- perhaps it should have been jeans and a top. But he was barefoot and in baggy white shorts and a gray long-sleeved two-button collarless ribbed shirt. Then she saw his mother dressed in a long black evening dress and jewelry galore. Oh god, what a mess.

"What's wrong?" she asked in panic.

He grinned, showing amazing teeth that made her knees almost buckle -- well she was eyeing his wide chest as well. "My impression was you were very attractive but now I see you are sensationally amazing."

"Sensationally amazing? No one looks that good."

"Oh yeah?"

"Well I accept your overly bloated comment as being well-intentioned and thank you for it."

"Um, can you translate?"

"You comment and looks make me go weak at the knees."

"Ah, a structural description -- that I can understand," he teased.

As he pulled Glade inside she asked indignantly, "Aren't you going to kiss me?"

Harry glanced at his mother and rubbed his jaw. "What kind of kiss."

"A welcoming kiss, with added kick to indicate you desire me?"

At least he didn't procrastinate. He moved in smoothly, cupping the base of her ears with his hands and kissed her lips lightly and then kissed each eyebrow.

Glade's entire body almost liquidized on to the tiled floor.

"Holy fuck!"

The mother croaked out something that sounded like shame.

"I said that mother," Harry reacted gallantly.

"What a disgusting thing to say and to say that in front of women is even worse."

"It was my fault Mrs McFadden. I encourage your son to be playful and I wasn't offended at all. I have urged Harry to talk to me in simplified English and he's yet to adjust appropriately. Actually that was an improvement on the gutter level he used earlier today. I'm fearful about hearing him describe my breasts and my..."

"Mrs Codd!"

Harry took control. "Mother, allow me to introduce my new client Mrs Codd who you should address as Glade. Glade this is my mother Mrs Enya McFadden.

"How do you do Mrs McFadden? I am so pleased to meet you. I anticipated your well-mannered son would have a fine mother behind him."

Glade dug into her handbag. "These after-dinner chocolate are for you ma'am."

"Oh, how lovely. None of Harry's other women come bearing gifts. All they want is for me to leave my home."

Harry stood like a statue with its mouth open.

"Well boys will be boys and girls will be girls Mrs McFadden. I expect to behave in your home as you'd expect me to behave. Harry and I can go anywhere for sex."

Now Mrs McFadden stood frozen, mouth open.

"Oh come on Mrs McFadden. A modern woman like you surely cannot be shocked by frank talk from someone like me? My understanding that the Scots are a pragmatic race and call a spade a spade.

"Ah, a caibe lass. It takes a lot to shock me. The way you express so openly just took me by surprise."

Harry began breathing again.

"Glade, now that's a name I've not heard before."

"My mother is a romantic and found it from somewhere but she can't recall where. It is Old English and extremely rare. It means shining."

"Well it is indeed a sweet name. Well off you two go for a swim. Harry wants that and I daresay it's so he can see your body. Use the guest bathroom dear -- it opens on to the deck."

Glade was in the pool when Harry arrived with champagne in unbreakable flutes.

He grinned. "You have taken mother by storm. She says she's never met anyone quite like you."

"Is that good or bad?"

"She finds you stimulating so therefore it's good. Um, you are in a one-piece swimsuit. I thought you suggested appearing only in panties?"

Glade pulled her top down under her breasts.

"Oh, very nice. Lovely tits."

"Now show me your dick,"

Harry's face and chest turned pink, almost hiding his dense freckles.

"I-I...do you really mean that?"

"No Harry, I'm just teasing. If I really wanted to see your dick I'd prefer it to be inflated. Why is this pool so shallow?"

"To reduce weight-loading."

"I thought as much?"

Harry said, "You did?"

"Yes Harry. You didn't have me tagged as a bimbo did you?"

CHAPTER 2

Three weeks after being fucked every day Glade eased away from Harry. He probably was gratified, as she was slowly killing him. He was losing weight and his drive. She was just too much for him, leaving him legless and completely drained of cum and being unable to get it up again. The problem was Harry turned out to be basically a one-shot guy over a 12-hour period.

But the work was done. The computer models showed costs savings of up to 40% could be made with a two-way extension of the present pool. Harry had tests done to the present structure and the quality of concrete and steel of the 11-year old pool rated very well indeed. When three days went by without Glade and he having had sexual connection he called and mentioned that. "Are we through?"

"Yes Harry. I tend to have brief affairs. It was lovely being fucked by you. I know your mother thinks I'm too common for you, although not expressing that in words."

"She would have been all over you had she known you were wealthy/"

"Ah yes, but I don't talk about my money to anyone Harry. And thank you for not telling her. The thought of one's money tends to screw up some people. The pool project committee is interested in your findings and has proven to be cooperative and is expecting me to present your analysis at the annual meeting. May I suggest I nominate you for club membership -- I'll get the application pushed through and as a personal gift may I pay your subscription for five years?"

"But you have already paid for my work?"

"I said as a personal gift. You'll enjoy the club and will probably become the club's honorary engineer; the present one Mr Matthews is very doddery. It's only money Harry and as a member you'll be able to present your report for me and answer questions and give assurances where you can."

"Very well, that's a magnificent gesture Glade. Thank you."

Marsha invited Glade to accompany here to a Nevada desert retreat for a week and they had a lovely time. On the third day at pre-lunch drinks a father and son from Louisiana came over with their beers and began talking to them and after lunch they paired off.

Glade had what the son wanted and he had what Glade wanted in a big way, finally sending her off to sleep in his arms. They went horse riding as a foursome and played tennis and have nine holes of hilarious golf and they danced away beyond midnight. The next night, at Marsha's suggestion, they went to Alec and Jon Fagen's spa suite for a spa and had sex and changed partners and spent most of the next day sleeping, fucking and eating. The Fagen's left the next morning and the two women arranged to shift into that suite and carried on as before, without the men.

"I feel I have REALLY gotten to know you on this vacation," Marsha said when they were having their first drink on the airplane returning to LA. 

"If it hadn't been for this lovely week away I'd never known I still could be taught things about sex," Glade giggled and received such a sweet kiss from Marsha.

* * *

At the annual meeting after presentation of reports and other formalities, the re-elected president Mr Liam Jacobs announced 'substantial and significant improvements' would begin almost immediately to allow the Octagonal room to be lit by natural lighting. The governing committee wished to acknowledge the support of club member Mrs Codd for initiating that work and to make known that Mrs Codd would personally meet the total cost of that improvement."

"Mrs Codd says she is delighted to underwrite the cost of this work and then with the room naturally lit to a high standard that female members who had found the room claustrophobic will be encouraged to use that room that she says is the loveliest room in the entire club and we would agree with that assessment."

Almost 250 members were at the meeting with drinks and a supper to follow. Bert Chives rose and ask, "May I ask how much is the cost of this upgrading?"

Mr Jacobs: "Mrs Codd?"

Mrs Codd: "I rather not say."

Old Mr Chives: "I feel members are entitled to know the extent of your generosity."

Mrs Smith, convener of the ladies committee: "So do I Mr President."

Mr Jacobs: "It is entirely up to you Mrs Codd. You did request privacy."

Mrs Codd: "Very well. Approximately $180,000."

The meeting applauded her.

Mr Jacobs then stated club member and architect Mrs Marcia Rowlands had done the design work without charge. "Please stand Marcia."

She stood and was applauded.

When Campbell Brown, convener of the pool project committee, was asked to report progress he invited Mrs Codd to speak.




Mrs Codd



"I became concerned that this costly project could bleed club funding dry and we would see our progressive program for timely maintenance and renewal fall behind, perhaps significantly and members would resent that. So I commissioned one of our new members, Mr Harry McFadden to assess this project to find the most economic form of development that meets all standards. Mr McFadden will now present his findings."

Harry did that eloquently, using sketches and tables via a projector on to the wall screen to illustrate what he was talking about. The estimated cost savings of around 40% in incorporating most of the present pool caused quite a stir. But more was to come.

Campbell Brown thanked Mrs Codd and Mr McFadden.

"Everyone, standby to be shocked. Glade...er... excuse me, I mean Mrs Codd, has made this offer: If we can find ten individuals or syndicates to donate $50,000 each towards the cost of the pool Mrs Codd will match that by donating $500,000. That funding together what is already in the pool capital account, would allow for the pool surrounds to be modernized and substantially upgraded."

The announcement was applauded.

"Thank you. We will shortly began calling on selected members..."

Old Mr Chives called out, "You can count on fifty thousand from me."

Seven other individuals and two syndicates announced their intention to donate.

"Well, this is astonishing," Mr Brown said. "Oh we are a really club of generously spirited members, aren't we?"

Applause.

"I can be calling an emergency meeting of the pool committee for tomorrow night to prepare submissions to the governing committee and collect in the promised donations." Mr Brown said. "Well done everyone."

When the crowd in the bar around her began thinning out an hour and a half after the meeting had ended, Glade was thinking about going home when a familiar voice whispered, "Glade, do you put it about?"

She turned and saw the mocking eyes of rough-hewn Campbell Brown who was pushing fifty.

She whispered, "Campbell direct your enquiry to an older woman. I'd wear your nuts out."

He grinned. "Please say yes?"

Glade felt a little horny so said, "Yes, but make it interesting."

She saw Campbell making a call and her returned. "Come on, we're going."

As they raced to the airport he said they were cutting it fine. They were going to Lake Tahoe for the night and would return early after noon tomorrow.

"I need to pack a back!"

"Oh, don't be ungrateful. You wanted me to do something exciting. You'll have probably no more than fifteen minutes at the airport to buy panties and condoms if you want me to use them. Other stuff will be available at the hotel. That dress is okay for twenty-four hours and so are the shoes. Oh, buy a swimsuit. I should as well."

* * *

As soon as the bellhop in the Harvey's casino hotel scampered with his tip Campbell had out his fat dick.

"Oooh," Glade said, slurping it. "You must think I'm such a slut."

Campbell said unexpectedly, "A thoroughly modern lady is how I would describe you."

"Oooh," Glade said, swallowing quite a chunk of him, causing Campbell to throw his head back and snort.

She broke away to undress saying she didn't want cum all over her clothes. In the end she swallowed so well there wasn't much goo left about.

"You're good," he said, throwing Glade on to the bed and licking her to screaming release with tongue and two fingers playing out of synch. 

They had fifteen minutes at a table and then went to dinner. Once again Glade found herself in familiar territory, eating, fucking and dancing the night away but on this occasion with gambling added. Her $500 value stake rose and fell and when at $1800 she quite the machines and wandered around until she found Campbell. He packed up being some $5000 ahead.

"Can I have your ass?" he asked.

Glade wriggled it. He'd been such a good boy and had been surprisingly good fun to be with. "You best warm me up first."

Wham! It went up her cunt so fast it left her almost breathless and as he worked it well he had a thumb work her asshole. But the time her vagina had been reamed she was eager to have her alternative hospitality hole filled, and fill it he did. They both sweated until they looked like dogs coming out of a lake. It was tough going but finally he had most of it in and worked himself red in the face until he exploded. He them rammed two fingers up Glade's cunt until she gushed.

Campbell had intended going out again but fell asleep. Two hours he felt his balls being sucked as he forced his eyes apart.

Glade looked up at him and simpered, "Ready to go again big boy"

Campbell blinked and said, "Are you for real"

Glade attempted to poke a dry finger up his ass and he leapt to do his duty.

"Christ, you are good. I should marry you."

"Are you married?"

"No but two former wives have gone and remarried."

"It's something we could think about. But let's not rush it."

"But my age -- I turn fifty next month?"

"That should mean you are mature and being male should therefore be able to interest me in other things beside fucking."

"Well I could I indeed. "I have lots of money. We ought to have a prenuptial agreement if we go ahead."

"And an agreement from my point of view."

"Yes of course. And wills that leave the one of us who survives the other as chief beneficiary?"

"Yes of course."

"I would like my only son to inherit 15% of my estate."

"Campbell, whatever you wish. Now relax or are you ready to go again?"

"Um a brief rest shower and then let's get some food. God you are going to make me fit."

* * *

A month later, the week of Campbell and Glade's wedding, Dr Judith Mitchell called Glade and invited her to inspect progress on construction at the college.

With hardhats on they went through the construction debris and could see the shape and form of the addition to the front of the MBA department.

"As you will recall from our discussions on the phone, there was sufficient money from your funding to extend the library behind this new wall by 20ft which is a substantial increase because that is 20ft on two levels. Where we are now is the new main entrance with the vaulted ceiling with it topped by a traditional bell tower, The bell will be rung on special occasions, such as at 9:00 a.m. on the first day of each semester and on graduation day and whenever a VIP visitor or visiting lecturer of eminent arrives to enter the building."

"Oh how romantic and scholarly. I do like that."

"Right, let us go for coffee and meet some big wigs of UCLA."

"Big wigs want to meet me?"

"Glade let me assure you these ladies and gentlemen believe they are meeting a big wig. It's not every day an individual gives $5 million to a university."

At the gathering tears came to Glade's eyes when told the department could not be named as a memorial. However she cheered when told it had been decided to name the MBA library The Frank Codd Memorial Library.

Glade was so choked all she could manage was, "I am deeply touched and feel privileged to have given my late husband a renewed presence in his former college. Thank you so much."

Campbell and his best pal Bruce and wife Denise and Glade and Marsha and her husband Gerard flew to Los Vegas for the early afternoon wedding. Marsha came into Campbell and Glade's suit early to help get Glade ready but they first took Campbell to bed and gave him a right working over, the best he could recall ever having.

The wedding was short but very dignified and then the six of them went on the town, roaming the strip until Gerard staggered off to bed. The others then raced to Campbell's suit and fucked like rabbits, Denise having never been in a group fuck before so she became the life of the party. They were of course all drunk. They carried Denise back to her room and then continued on. When Bruce folded, Campbell, Glade and Marsha ripped off another round and then went for a meal, fading through, and then back to gambling. Glade and Marsha had lost their stakes set aside for gambling but back in the honeymoon suite before the three of them settled in to fuck themselves to sleep Campbell gave each of them a big handful of money from a bag a casino had given him to carry his winnings.

In the months that followed Glade had never been happier. Campbell was so lovely to her. He absorbed her into the business, giving her the title of public relations officer attached to sales and she dealt with inquiries and complaints but was able to come and go as she wished, one of the sales women taking over when Glade was away.

Marsha occasionally called around to stay until midnight and when Bruce went to Canada on business for a month Denise stayed with them and labeled it the best vacation of her life. She was only twenty and when she went home to welcome back Bruce there was nothing she didn't know about sex.

There were party times whenever a new apartment block was completed and Glade and Campbell were VIP guests as the opening of the extension of the MBA department at the business college and the dedication of the memorial library. There were also VIP guests at the opening of the new swimming pool at the club where tremendous tributes were paid to Glade's drive in getting the project underway and completed.

Glade called up the other major donors to stand alongside her before she delivered her speech.

President Jacobs then invited Glade to change and have the honor of having the first swim. Glade handed him her diamond watch and then kicking off her shoes dove into the pool amid huge cheering and shouting. Other people began jumping in fully clothed and the president said dryly over the sound system, "And we haven't even started drinks yet."

* * *

One Sunday Campbell drove into East Los Angeles where he was raised telling Glade the family was very poor and although she'd never admit it he believed his mom had named him after a brand of soup. He had a father of course but his mother never knew who he was because there had been so many males at her, males of all ages. She must have liked sex but she also had to eat and she had sex in order to survive.

He showed Glade the house where he was born and raised until he was eight or nine and the school he attended and the church where a pastor had taken pity on his mother and had given here a job as a volunteer worker giving out food to the needy and the three women who shared the work shared the food that was over each afternoon and took their spoils home.

Then there was the factory, now derelict where his mom finally found paid work folding and stacking manufactured garments as there was no packaging machines done there in those days and that meant jobs for many women without education and advanced job skills. And if they didn't turn up for work someone else was given their place on the processing line. Campbell recalled once his mother had influenza and finally succumbed. She lost her job but went every morning to try to catch the recruiter's eye to fill a vacant position and after eleven working days secured a place, all but two positions away from where she used to work.

Another church was where he'd learned carpentry skills in the church hall, used as a workshop. 

Then there was the furniture shop where he first worked, still operating as a furniture factory by the sons or grandsons perhaps of the boss from his days of working there.

A few miles on they came to a builder's yard, again still in the family. Cameron had worked for that firm for thirteen years helping to construct houses. His mother had died by then and with money in his pocket he moved out to where people paid more money to have houses built and that allowed the building contractor to pay his employees really good money. 

Glade was distraught at what she'd seen and said, "You have money -- why don't you donate some money back into your old localities as social welfare?"

"I clawed my way out of there and they can do the same," Cameron replied heartlessly.

"What about you mom -- she didn't?"

"Well some people are just unlucky."

By then Glade was angry with him. "Then what are you doing to do with your money; if you die you can't take it with you?"

"Then it won't be my problem, will it?"

Eighteen months later Cameron was stepping out of his SUV outside a construction site when a truck coming the other way overtook another slow moving truck and caught Cameron and tore off his car door and killed Cameron instantly.

Once fully recovered, Glade drove the repaired car into East Los Angeles. She was unable to find the house where Cameron had been raised but she found the two churches and received the addresses and details of how to make donations.

She collected the business details of the owner of the furniture shop -- he did not have printed business cards -- and at the builder's yard she collected the proprietor's business card.

Glade returned on another day and at the school Cameron had attended she explained to the principal she wished to make a donation to the school and asked him to send her a wish list for improvements he'd been unable to obtain and was unlikely to readily secure finance for. Mr Marks was also a director of a local community trust that funded and ran community activities in the area and asked him to consult his group and make a similar wish list if money were no object.

Glade then waited. To her delight when sorting through Cameron's possession with his son, they found a draft of Cameron's 'Story of My Childhood'. Alan was only vaguely interested in it and so agreed that Glade keep it and send it to him when finished with it.

As he was leaving, his Ford Explorer packed with retrieved possessions he wanted, Alan said, "I have to say this Glade. I have instructed my attorney to fight the will. I want everything."

She smiled. "Well I won't wish you luck. We used quality attorneys to draft our pre-nuptial agreements and wills. Initially you weren't to receive a cent because your mother had been paid off handsomely but I pleaded for goodwill and you know what you are to receive. Other than that you are very unlikely to receive a cent."

A month later Alan called Glade and said if she paid two million dollars to him he'd drop contesting the will.

"Fuck off Alan. You hadn't been near your father in the past nine years and now your attorney will have advised just how much it could cost you to contest and what your chances are. I am executing your father's wishes. Goodnight."

Nothing more would be heard from Alan.

The next act by Glade was to revert to calling herself Mrs Codd. She did that because she thought her heart really belonged to Frank Codd.

Her attorney sent checks from the estate of Campbell Brown to his elementary school, a sum equal to 80% of the wish list. Glade had considered it inappropriate to give for everything thing on a wish list. Allocating money to only 80% of that list should make the principal and his advisers think carefully. The amount came to just over $430,000.

She gave the community trust the full amount it sought -- $891,500 -- because it was a registered community trust and had local businessmen on its board. That should ensure the money was spent prudently with any surplus transferred to reserves. The furniture shop received $30,000 with the suggestion it be spend on new machinery and the building depot received $100,000 with a similar suggestion. Enclosures described who Campbell Brown had been and how had each beneficiary had helped Frank step on his way to achieving a successful career.

Glade personally delivered checks of $200,000 to both churches and finding the address of Frank's original home from his draft memoirs she visited the homeowners and told them that her recently deceased husband had lived in that house and without going overboard could they get written quotes from local firms to do improvements to the property they'd like to have done. Once she'd received the written quotes Glade arranged for the bills to be sent to her attorney when each firm had completed its work. The total came to $34,832. She then gave the owners $20,000 to spend on any extras and to put aside for future maintenance of the home.

All of that may have seemed a lot to spend perhaps needlessly but it was only money. Glade was expecting to finally receive something approaching $17 million from the post probate estate of Campbell Brown with all taxes paid and his business including apartments sold and loans repaid. Already two offers for the business as a going concerned have been received, exceeding appraisals figures.

It seemed incongruous to Glade that she'd come to California with $10,321 and she was now worth in excess of $90 million. She stepped up her charitable donations to $100,000 a year.

On the advice of a highly regarded investment adviser, secured by her attorney, Glade spent $38 million buying a five-level downtown hotel that was nearing the end of its economic life with the lease to run seven more years. The site was strategically located extending between two streets and had been approved some years ago as a site for a major office tower. The Japanese family holding that half share was liquidating its investments in the US and had been receiving a 6.37% on its investment. A major insurance company that currently was not in the position to take on major debt owned the other half-share. 

With that all done, Glade was ready to relax and play again. She was mindful she was still only twenty-eight and needed a guy almost as frequently as a vehicle needed gas. Or so she thought, jokingly. At the club that evening she came across architect Marcia Rowlands.

"Let my buy you a drink poor darling," Marcia said. "I saw you at the funeral but we did not get close enough to speak to you. So many people. Are you holding up okay?"

"Yes, I'm basically over it. It was such a fucking shock."

Marcia giggled and then apologized.

"What are you apologizing?"

"I giggled over mentioning the F-word but it was not appropriate to laugh."

"No it's fine. I told you I was basically over it but really I am over it. I use the F-word occasionally."

Marcia laughed and said she was in her late thirties and rarely heard women her age use it. You sound frustrated. Have you... um... had a date recently?"

"No but I'm beginning to look at guy's bulges again so that's telling me something."

Marcia bit her lip. "Look, don't be upset with me mentioning this. My Gerard is away this weekend and it's been quite a while since I've played up. I'm going out on a ketch with four guys and three girlfriends. There's plenty of room -- what say I call Philip and see if you can join us and I'll ask him to bring his young brother Shaun who's about your age, twenty-nine?"

"Will Philip mind?"

"No, not once I describe what you look like. Um it's a drink, cruise, sex and eat trip. You could be asked for sex by the brother or Philip or anyone else for that matter."

"Sounds like my kind of weekend."

Marcia laughed and said, "You really are fun Glade. I'll call Philip now."

She called with the phone on speaker and said, "Damn, no answer... oh hi Philip, It's Marcia. I have a neat client and wonder could she come with us this weekend?"

"Yes of course Marcia provided she fits in and you know what I mean by that."

"I do. She's recently widowed but is back to being happy again and is looking for a male companion, a casual one. You may have known her husband as your company does electrical work for apartment developers -- he was Campbell Brown."

"You mean you can bring Slade? Oh yeah, blonde with great tits and sensational legs. I saw her at the funeral."

"Can you bring along Shaun for her?"

"Yeah, he saw her at the funeral and commented about her sexuality. He'll have a hard-on as soon as I mention she's been invited. Oh call me when you set it up."




Mrs Codd



"I will darling. Bye."

Marcia said, "I'll call him back. No point telling him you were listening to that disgusting talk about Shaun's hard-on."

They laughed and both realized a close friendship was in the making.

As they were departing, Marcia said, "Bring some food and wine and nibbles and perhaps fruit to snack between meals. When I call Philip back I'll make sure you and I share a quad cabin. I'll be with Denny, Philip's best friend whose wife is in France leading a tour party."

They kissed, on the lips, and in no hurry to separate.

CHAPTER 3

People were peering anxiously down the marina finger from the ketch for any sign of Glade. Then Marcia called, "Here she comes, pushy a dolly. God, it's loaded with food and drink. Get on to the walkway and help her Denny and Shaun."

Introductions were made and Denny and Shaun handed up twelve bottles of French champagne, two boxes of assorted foreign beer, two bottles of vodka and cocktail mixes, six bottles of red wine and six of white and containers holding caviar, pâté de foie gras, anchovies, smoked oysters, baby shrimps, crab meat and sliced lobster tail. Then followed six foil bags each containing two freshly roasted chickens, a 10 lb side of roasted beef and a range of salads and bags of fresh fruit and eight cherry pies and in a refrigerated box were whipped cream and pecan ice cream.

"Sorry skipper," Glade called to the guy leaning out of the wheelhouse window. "I insisted on fresh food and the deli made me wait while they finished cooking the chickens."

Philip Cowan waved and called, "Welcome aboard princess."

Glade was wearing a white cat suit, white sandals, a big black beaded necklace, black-framed shades and a wide floppy black sunhat.

"Shaun, run the dolly back to the security gate," ordered his brother from the wheelhouse.

As soon as Glade was on board Philip's girlfriend Gabby (Gabrielle) took her to the wheelhouse to meet the skipper. Philip caught Glade's breath. He looked about forty with wide shoulders spoilt by a beer belly and he was balding, but his eyes twinkled blue and his mouth curved into a wonderful smile as her greeted her with a kiss.

"Hello babe, wonderful to have you aboard. My god, you are put together just great. Now please leave me to get this eighty-footer out of this mariner without wrecking us or other craft."

"He's lovely," Glade said conversationally to Gabby.

"He spends too much time running his business and is losing hair and running to fat. I don't know why I bother. All he really wants from me is sex and he's excessive about that. You brought aboard lots of food. Let's go and have some. I'm in charge of catering."

Glade followed Gabby thinking it was rare for her to hear of any young woman complaining about having too much sex. If only that could happen to her right now she would feel far less tense. A good fuck was what she wanted, not food.

Some of the gang were already drinking. It had been decided to keep the champagne to drink watching the sun go down at anchorage.

Shaun arrived at Glade's side as she finished coffee and a nibble.

"I'll show you to our cabin." 

"Oh thanks Shaun, let's go." Marcia across the saloon winked at her.

Shaun didn't waste any time. He locked the door and said, "Can we do it now?"

Was this is why she liked older men? Glade thought. They had more class and didn't take getting 'it' for granted.

She sighed. "Pull it out and show me what you've got Shaun."

He dropped his baggy shorts and grinned as if expected her to say Ohmigod or something else in awe.

Glade smiled and said very nice. "I'd like that right now please Shawn."

He leered and walked to her, waving it at her. Suddenly Glade felt overwhelmingly interested. She grabbed him and yelled, "Now Shawn."

He lifted as she leaped up, holding up her dress-front. She wasn't wearing panties. Shaun rammed it in like most overly eager guys who only cared about themselves tended to do. Within ten minutes -- by then they were on the floor -- Shaun was pouring cum into her. He had cleaned himself up and was zipped up without even bothering to ask if she'd gotten off. She hadn't and thought perhaps some other guy might do that for her.

Glade had never been on anything but ferries before and was surprised she felt no concern about her welfare. There was a breeze and the marina was in the distance when she appeared back on deck after showering. Actually that crude fuck had done more for her than she thought. She was looking forward for another -- by someone else. To her surprise the deck was not full of writhing bodies. The women were in a group laughing and the guys were either stretched out dozing or sitting on chairs with a bottle of beer. She went to the wheelhouse.

"Oh hi, I was hoping you would appear."

"Why?"

Philip scratched his nuts and grinned. "That's being direct."

"It's how I am. A rude bitch I suppose although when I first arrived in LA not too long ago I was shy and bewildered."

"I'd like to know more about you, and please, don't say why."

Glade gave Philip a potted history, making no mention of actual sums of money, and he said, "You've had both good and bad times."

"And you?"

"There's nothing to me really. I came out of college after eighteen months no longer interested in chasing a career in electronics technology -- no, not focusing on computers. I worked for dad while waiting for something to come up and being a sly guy he slid me into management and trouble-shooting. I did better than either of us expected so he formed the business into a partnership, me paying across a hundred bucks, and we've built it from there with me now running it. We have a few of our own gangs but mainly find the work and let it out to subcontractors. The system works very well but we have to sit hard on some of the contract guys. We expect everyone to perform to a median or better. They know my three heavies called supervisors and I know what that median is in terms of time, input and quality to completion. Dad and I are also partners in this ketch Sheryl 11."

"The name of his second wife?"

"Correct, bright lady. Remarkably mom, who died, was Sheryl and the only babe after death dad could shine his light on was also Sheryl. She's only seven years older than me and they both remain very happy. I'm married."

"Oh dear."

"Why do you say that?"

"It was your tone."

"And from that you could deduce... Jesus."

"I can't help it Philip. My brain just works that way. I see problems and am thinking solutions almost before I realize there is a problem."

"You should be in our business as a management analyst."

"I know basic bookkeeping, nothing about cost accountancy, taxation and compliance."

Philip rolled a hand over the back of his neck. "Glade, do you know what you know?"

"Um, not really. That was perceptive. Tell me about your wife."

"We have been separated for thirteen months. She took Andy who's now nine and Paula who is six."

"Oh dear. May I say something?"

"Yes of course."

"You might not like it."

"Well then, you risk getting a clip over the ear," he grinned.

"Within the next thirty days resolve it: either negotiate a reconciliation or move to end it."

Philips head dropped.

"Even you know that's what you should do, right?"

"Yeah, right. There is another man so Jacki is happy."

"He's the one who started it?"

"Either he or Jacki did. What do I do?"

"Your problem is you are reluctant to end it so haven't set a schedule."

"The shock left me in an emotional mess," Philip said, holding out an arm and Glade folded into it.

"You two look comfortable," Gabby said from the doorway.

"Come in an join us or if you like I'll leave you here alone with Philip."

"No, it's cool. This is a sharing cruise. Bye -- will talk later."

Philip grinned. "You handled that like a veteran."

"What was there to be afraid of? Being ranted and raved at or being hit doesn't scare me. I worked in a restaurant and had to handle belligerent drunks."

"Are you equipped to advise me what I need to do with Jacki and the kids?"

"No but I do have a brain. And you can pay big bucks to highly acclaimed advisers but at the end of the day they will present the choice: Reconciliation or end it. Your responsibility is to think of the children. They're probably had an unsetting year and remain unsettled."

"Almost every day I think about them."

"I'm glad to hear that. Do you want the children?"

"Yes."

"Well arrange a meeting with Jacki at the time and place that suits her and with anyone she wishes to have in support. In front of an attorney would be best. You present your plan for reconciliation or termination. If it's termination she is entitled to half of your personal assets."

"The company and this boat are protected against any claims from her."

"Good boy. So advise what she gets. If she wants more money you agree provide the demand is reasonable or can be negotiated down until you are comfortable with it. You then demand custody of the children if that's really what you want. After you have talked to them, given the opportunity, you will know what they want."

"What do I say, I gain the children or any deal is off?"

"That's for you to decide but remember a court judge has to approve your agreed position regarding the children."

Towards dusk they were anchored in calm water and they drank down the sun and the sex started with a break for a most wonderful and long meal. Everyone was nude or almost and very happy, with no other boats around them and music with a driving beat playing.

Shaun was at Glade twice during the evening but she finally experienced good sex when Denny rolled on to her. Marcia was responsible for that, drawing Glade to her after Shawn had fallen asleep and Denny looked after them both. The only disappointment for Glade was Philip hadn't come near her but probably Gabby was responsible for that; every time Glade looked around for Philip he was either away with Gabby or Gabby was staring at her.

After that full-on weekend Glade made no effort to contact Philip and ditto from him. She applied for a clerical position with an accountancy firm and because of her keenness to learn and quickness on the uptake she advanced through sections in each department, making no effort to conceal the fact that she was ambitious. At night she studied, taking an office administration diploma course on-line, nominally a year-old course that the system allowed her to go at her own pace. She completed in five and a half months.

Armed with her diploma, Glade talked to her office HR manager and an in-office training scheme was planned that suited the office as much as it did Glade. She was open to learn anything that would assist her to be involved in the management of running a small business. If Philip failed to come back for her she'd buy a small business. She had the desire to be engaged in meaningful work.

Yes, Glade was convinced Philip would attempt to reconnect with here... after his divorce. He might like the thought of her looking after his children; he might like the thought of entering an arrangement to have her on tap for sex and interesting company. She'd read his eyes: he was very, very interested in her. Perhaps it would be a long-term relationship with our without the children. Who knew? He'd want the dead marriage out of the way first. She didn't believe he would try for reconciliation. She strongly believed he'd be back. If he didn't she would find someone. In the meantime there were males in the office and randy male clients available to keep her sexually satisfied if that's what she wanted.

Months later at the club when Glade was talking to Marcia about going away with her for a weekend, reception called Glade and said a Mr Philip Cowan was in the lobby waiting to see her and to be admitted as her visitor.

Glade said excitedly, "It's Philip -- he's come for me."

"Philip, you mean Philip Cowan? "I haven't seen him for weeks. All I know he's dumped Gabby."

"And now it's my turn."

"Ohmigod. Look at your face. You look like an over-excited teenager. Go on, I go off to find other company to give you free reign."

"No please stay Marcia. I'm so wound up I might over-react and scare the poor guy off."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, please stay darling."

Glade stepped into the lobby and saw him, all washed up and in a new dark blue suit. He held flowers. He'd come courting and must have called her home and was told where she was.

"Hello Philip. How lovely to see you."

He took two steps towards Glade and then halted. "G-Glade, I hope you don't regard this as an intrusion?"

"Not at all. I'm delighted. Take your visitor's label from Mrs Duckworth and come with me."

Philip came to her, fumbling to attach his label.

"Here, allow me. This is a quality suit. I love it."

"Phew, I'm glad about that."

"That's good, come through and join Marcia and me for a drink. We often meet here and have become very close friends. She said she'd not seen you for weeks either."

"No."

There was a pause.

"Are you going to kiss me Philip? I bet Marcia will get a kiss."

The kiss was long, gentle and both kept their eyes shut.

"You kiss beautifully Philip."

The poor guy looked ready to sink through the floor. Where had his confidence gone?"

Marcia held up her face and received the kiss Glade had mentioned.

"Hi, long time no see and even longer since darling Glade has seen you."

"I... er... well." Philip said, sinking on the seat to face them and giving his order to the assistant bartender.

"Have you gotten rid of the bitch and secured the kids?"

Philip looked ready to panic and Marcia was half-winded by the elbow she received from Glade.

"Yes," he croaked, looking at Marcia gratefully for opening the gate.

"Well I shall leave you lovebirds now," Marcia said, standing and rubbing her ribs. She did, however, bend over and kiss Glade sweetly.

Glade patted the vacated seat on the sofa beside her and Philip was over in a shot.

"Well it's out," he said. "We have to blame Marcia for that but I suppose she knew what she was doing."

"I suppose she did."

"You even think like me."

"But I'm glad I don't look like you."

They laughed and Philip was handed his drink.

As he took a deep swig of beer Glade decided to cut the corners and said, "Are you here to ask me to come and live with you and the children?"

She was hit by sprayed beer as Philip choked.

"Oh god."

"It's nothing. Just answer, yes or no."

"Yes."

"Oh I am so pleased. I thought this would happen."

"You did? I anticipated you' want a clean slate before I asked you to live with me."

Philip frowned, "It doesn't have to be marriage before you'd do that does it?"

"No, of course not. Where are the darlings?"

"With my parents."

"Then let's go there as soon as we have finished our drink. Why waste time."

"It appears you are not one to waste time," said the smiling Philip. "I know the kids are really doing to like you. Expect them to be shy of you at first."

"Have you told your mom about me?"

"Yes."

"Then no worries. She will have been priming your children for my arrival, although not knowing when that would be. Please call your mom now Philip. I have no wish to arrive unannounced."

"You are everything I've dreamed of Glade."

"Darling, please halt the assault. We must handle the children first. Don't you agree?"

"Er, yes, of course. You will be so good for me Glade."

THE END



Mrs. Cole



Mike smiled as the bell rang. The final bell on Friday always sounded so much better than any of the other bells during the week. Mike happily gathered up his stuff and headed toward his locker as he started looking forward to the upcoming weekend.

It was nearing the end of Mike's senior year and, having turned 18 a few months ago, he knew that he would have a weekend of freedom as his parents would be leaving town. Actually, they had been making it a near habit for nearly the past year to go to the family's beach house whenever the weather was nice. They had stopped asking Mike if he wanted to go and Mike figured they enjoyed the time alone as much as he enjoyed having the run of the house.

Mike organized his locker and grabbed the stuff that he would need to take home with him. As he did most days when he didn't have practice after school he headed toward Mrs. Cole's room. Mrs. Cole had been Mike's english teacher back when he was freshman and had made the offer to help tutor him after school when she noticed he was having a tough time in class. He went to her room nearly every day after school for almost a whole school year and she would help him get through his work. Eventually he straightened out his problems with english, but he still made it a habit to stop by Mrs. Cole's room whenever he could through the rest of his years at the school.

Mike headed up the stairs to her room and started to plan out his weekend. A typical weekend would consist of going on a date or just going out cruising with some friends. He knew that having the house to himself was a treat and he never abused that by having a big party. This weekend was a little different in that all his friends were otherwise occupied and he couldn't get any dates lined up, so it looked like he would have a lot of time to himself. He thought that perhaps a trip to the video store to rent a porno or two would be in order to release some of the sexual energy that he seemed to constantly have bottled up inside him. 

Sometimes Mike would wonder why he continued seeing Mrs. Cole regularly even through his senior year. They no longer even talked about his schoolwork and sometimes would just chat or she would have him help grade some papers or put up a bulletin board. The truth was that Mike always felt grateful to her for helping him out back then and he wanted to somehow make it up to her. They had become pretty good friends through the years and she seemed to really enjoy his visits, so he didn't feel weird about continuing to stop by. The fact that Mike had carried a crush on Mrs. Cole all these years didn't hurt either.

Mrs. Cole was definitely old enough to be his mother and in fact her one son was older than Mike and was finishing his first year at college. Mike never asked but he guessed that she was probably between 40 and 45 years old. She carried herself with an elegance that had always appealed to Mike. Her hair was short but always very stylish and always perfectly done. Mrs. Cole always dressed very properly which meant that she always wore skirts, nylons, & high heels. She often wore silk blouses that were fairly transparent and so would wear a full length slip under her outfit to prevent any prying high school eyes from seeing anything improper. Despite this Mike found that her style of dress was particularly appealing. Perhaps it was the fact that she never showed too much leg or too much of her top that made him desire what was underneath all the more. When he first starting seeing her for tutoring he found it difficult to concentrate on the lessons instead of staring at her breasts. They were large but definitely not too large for her frame. "Just more than a handful" was the term that Mike and his friends had once jokingly used when they were discussing some of the more lustful things they wouldn't have minded doing with their teacher. Through time Mike thought he had gotten pretty good at sneaking looks at her shapely ass or the perfect outline of her breasts encased in those teasing silk tops.

Mike entered Mrs. Cole's room and found her busy at her desk arranging some new items for one of her bulletin boards. He said hello and asked if he could help. Mrs. Cole replied that he could go get her a cup of coffee from the staff lounge and then, if he had time, he could help her put up the new bulletin board. "Sure thing," Mike replied since he knew he didn't have any other plans for the afternoon.

When he returned with the coffee he found her standing on her tip toes trying to figure out where she wanted to arrange the new items. Since Mike was a little taller than she was she asked him if he wouldn't mind doing that for her. She described how she wanted it to look and then left him to his work. Mrs. Cole returned to her desk to finish grading some papers.

After a short while she looked up and saw that Mike had nearly finished. She picked up her coffee and walked up behind Mike to compliment him on a job well done. She was standing right behind him when she said, "Looks good."

For some reason Mike had completely spaced out and was going about his work while daydreaming about what sort of porno tape he should rent later. Mrs. Cole's words surprised him and caused him to jump and spin around suddenly. As he spun his elbow knocked into her coffee cup and spilt the coffee all over the front of her silk top. Fortunately the coffee wasn't hot enough to burn but it still made an huge mess. Mike started apologizing profusely and grabbed a nearby roll of paper towels. He tore off several sheets and started to quickly try to sop up some of the coffee from her top before any more of it soaked into the material.

Mike repeatedly apologized and although Mrs. Cole kept telling him it was fine and that she was just as much to blame for sneaking up on him it didn't help him. He was very embarrassed at spilling the coffee and could only think about trying to clean off her shirt. Mrs. Cole kept telling him to stop and it wasn't a big deal, but he wasn't listening because he was too busy trying to apologize. She finally leaned over to set down her coffee cup just as Mike was leaning over to grab more paper towels with one hand while still trying to wipe her off with he other hand.

Mike wasn't sure exactly how it happened, but somehow through both of their movements his hand was now rubbing Mrs. Cole directly on her right breast. He had been rubbing in small circles and had actually been rubbing her breast for a few seconds before he realized it. When he did notice he completely froze not knowing what to do. They both stood completely still for a couple of seconds with Mike's hand still covering her breast. Mike finally came to his senses and quickly removed his hand with a hurried apology, but not before he felt the biggest charge of sexual energy he had ever felt. His dick twitched in his pants as he quickly realized he had basically just groped Mrs. Cole's breast.

Mike looked up to see what Mrs. Cole was doing. As they made eye contact for the first time since the touch Mike noticed that she wasn't angry at all. Instead, the look on her face was mostly blank but there was a slight glimmer in her eye that helped stiffen Mike's growing erection. "I should probably be going," Mike started to say. He was quickly cut off by Mrs. Cole saying, "I don't think I can let you leave yet. You still have some cleaning up to do."

That last sentence hung in the air as Mike tried to figure out exactly what she meant. Mrs. Cole finally broke their eye contact and made a quick glance down to the front of her shirt. Still not quite sure what she wanted Mike grabbed some paper towels and again started rubbing the front of her shirt. He started up by her shoulder and then moved down to her stomach skipping over her breasts. The sexual energy building in Mike was ready to boil over and he now had a full erection. He didn't have much experience at reading these types of situations, but he was pretty sure Mrs. Cole was also enjoying the "cleaning". Mike again started rubbing her shoulder but this time allowed his fingers to drop a little lower. "What the fuck am I doing?" Mike thought to himself. As he tried to answer the question to himself he allowed his fingers to drop yet still lower. Mrs. Cole made no moves to stop Mike and he decided it was time to see how far she would let him go. He moved his hand down until he was now rubbing the top of her breast.

Mike held his breath and was already working on what he would say when she asked what the hell he was doing. She never asked. Mike rubbed the top side of her breast for a while and then allowed his hands to slide completely over her breast. He also brought his other hand up from his side and cupped her other breast with it. Mrs. Cole had closed her eyes and tipped her head back slightly, so Mike assumed that she had no intentions of stopping him. 

As he rubbed and caressed her breasts Mike couldn't believe how amazingly sexy they felt under her silk top. He could feel her nipples begin to stiffen and occasionally let his fingers make small circles around them. Soon her nipples were standing very erect and were quite prominently sticking out from her breasts. Mrs. Cole's breathing had become a little irregular and her lips were now slightly parted. Her breasts were very soft under his fingers and as Mike slid his fingers gently over her silk encased breasts he quickly wondered what they would feel like naked.

Before he could think about that any longer Mrs. Cole opened her eyes and looked him directly in the face. She slowly moved toward him and pushed him back against the wall as her lips made their first contact with his. The kiss started softly with their lips dancing lightly against each other, but soon she pressed into him harder and the embrace became less passionate and more lustful. She parted her lips slightly and started exploring Mike's lips with her tongue. She then shoved her tongue into Mike's mouth and started to roughly wrestle her tongue against Mike's. Mike was also aware of her hands slowly sliding up and down the sides of his hips and the charge he felt from her touch was almost enough to make him cum inside his pants.

Mrs. Cole broke the kiss and sat down at the nearest desk facing Mike. She looped a finger under his belt and pulled him toward her until he was standing directly in front of her. Her hands returned to Mike's hips and she again started rubbing his hips and then his thighs in slow up and down motions. Just as Mike thought he couldn't take anymore teasing, one of her hands slowly found its way to the pulsing bulge in Mike's pants. She slowly and softly explored Mike's erection through his jeans before finally reaching up to undo his belt. She next unlatched the button on his jeans and very slowly unzipped the zipper. She pushed the jeans down around his ankles and Mike now stood in front of her with only his boxer shorts keeping his dick from pointing straight at her. She repeated her slow massage of his now exposed thighs and was allowing her fingers to slide higher and higher under his boxers until she was nearly making contact with his balls. 

Mike couldn't believe how hard he had become and didn't know how long he could last. He noticed a wet spot on his boxers were he had already released some pre-cum in preparation for whatever was about to happen. Mrs. Cole also noticed the wet spot and began to rub her thumb over the wet spot until it grew much larger. Finally Mike had to say, "I don't think I can take much more."

Mrs. Cole gave a devilish smile when he said this and replied, "I better put you out of your misery then." With that she grabbed the waistband of his boxers and pushed them to the floor with one smooth motion. Mike's cock popped out of his boxers and stood straight out from his body pointing directly at Mrs. Cole. He could see it bob slightly with his pounding heartbeat. Mrs. Cole took a couple of seconds to simply stare at his cock as it danced in front of her. She finally reached up with her right hand and started to massage the area just at the base of his dick. She let his pubic hair run through her fingers as she rubbed the entire area around this shaft. Finally she wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock. Her grip was very gentle at first as she just held his manhood in her hand. She tightened her grip slightly and started stroking.

Mike was in heaven. He couldn't believe how good this felt. Mrs. Cole started stroking faster with her right hand and reached up to cup his balls with her left hand. She finally whispered, "Cum for me Mike. I want to watch you cum." Hearing her say those words was more than Mike could take. Just at that moment she started stroking him even harder and he moaned loudly as he started to cum. Mrs. Cole had shifted so Mike's dick was pointed directly at her breasts but his first shot of cum was so forceful that it ended up landing near her shoulder. Stream after stream of cum erupted from Mike's cock as she continued to stroke him. The entire front of Mrs. Cole's top was now covered with a combination of coffee and Mike's cum. Large globs of cum were sticking to her breasts and began to slowly drip down toward her stomach.

Mrs. Cole continued to rub and stoke Mike's cock as it softened. She finally collected the cum that was still hanging from the tip of his cock with her fingers and quickly licked it from her fingers. She sat back slightly and looked at Mike as she spread her legs slightly and pulled her skirt up to her waist. She didn't need to say anything as her body language clearly said it was her turn and Mike didn't waist any time getting to work.

Mike quickly dropped to his knees between Mrs. Cole's spread legs. He reached one hand out to each of Mrs. Cole's knees and gently began to massage her thighs just above her knees. The feel of her flesh encased in her nylons really turned Mike on. He slowly allowed his massage to progress further up her thighs and began paying more attention to the insides of her legs. 

As Mike's massage continued he noticed how wet the crotch of Mrs. Cole's panties had become. The smell also struck Mike. Mrs. Cole's strong, musky scent had his head spinning and made his dick start to tingle again. His massage had now reached the very tops of Mrs. Cole's thighs and he had started to allow his fingers to pass over her pussy. He couldn't feel much through her nylons and panties, but he could feel her wetness. Without saying anything Mrs. Cole took Mike's hands and guided them to the waistband at the top of her nylons. She shifted slightly in the seat as she and Mike pulled off her nylons. As he pulled Mike's fingers also caught her panties and both her nylons and panties slipped down to her ankles together.

Mike looked again between Mrs. Cole's legs and saw the pussy he so often fantasized about for the first time. Her pussy was very hairy and not like anything Mike had seen in magazines or on videos. Her pussy lips were swollen and covered in her own moisture. Mike could see the wetness glistening from her vagina and without thinking moved his hands up to feel the wetness. He slowly ran his fingers through the hairs on her pussy. He cupped her pussy with his right hand and felt her juices run over his palm and fingers. As he explored her pussy Mrs. Cole started to slowly gyrate her hips. Occasionally Mike would look up at her face and found that Mrs. Cole was alternating between watching him and leaning her head back and enjoying the sensations.

Finally Mike decided he needed to feel inside her pussy and placed a finger at the entrance to her vagina. He slowly started to insert his finger when Mrs. Cole rocked her hips forward and impaled herself completely on his finger. It was wonderfully wet and warm and Mike quickly inserted a second and then a third finger. He wasn't sure exactly what to do so he slowly started to move his fingers in and out. With his other hand he began exploring the area just above her vagina where he knew the clit was located. As he slowly finger fucked her he gently massaged her pussy with his other hand and paid particular attention to any areas that seemed to get a reaction from Mrs. Cole.

Mrs. Cole had begun rocking her hips more and more and was taking a more active role in the finger fucking. Suddenly she whispered, "Oh Mike, that's the spot. Keep your hand right there." Hearing the sexuality of her voice at this moment completely turned Mike on. He had heard her voice many thousands of times over the past few years, but it had never sounded like that. He concentrated his massage to that small area and really began to watch Mrs. Cole's reaction.

Very quickly Mrs. Cole again spoke, this time with more urgency in her voice, "Fuck me faster, Mike." He did as commanded and greatly increased the speed of his finger fucking. At this point his whole hand was covered with her pussy juice. He felt Mrs. Cole's pussy clench around fingers and her body suddenly tightened. Through clenched teeth she cried, "Ohhhh yes." Her pussy spasmed around Mike's fingers and he knew that she was cumming. He continued to finger fuck her as she came and then slowed the fucking as she regained her composure.

The room was silent for a few moments except for the sound of Mrs. Cole's heavy breathing as she tried to regain her breath. She reached down and took hold of Mike's hand around his wrist and removed it from her pussy. She slowly brought his hand up to Mike's mouth and said softly, "Taste it. Taste me." Mike did as instructed, slowly and uncertainly at first, but then with more enthusiasm as he realized that he enjoyed the taste. Mrs. Cole almost purred as she watched Mike clean off his hand. When he finished she released his hand and stood up. She stepped out of her nylons and panties and pulled her skirt down. She picked up her underwear and walked over to her desk. Mike was still kneeling on the floor with his own pants and boxers around his ankles. His dick was semi-rigid at this point as he watched Mrs. Cole. She stood at her desk with her back to him for a few seconds and then said, "I think you should probably go."

Mike didn't know what he expected her to say, but that wasn't it. He stuttered a quick, "Uhh, OK." He stood and quickly got dressed. Mrs. Cole walked around behind her desk and sat in her chair. Mike thought he noticed her quickly glancing at him, but every time he looked at her she would look away. Mike gathered his coat and book bag and, with one last look back at Mrs. Cole, he left her room.

As he walked toward home his head was spinning. He couldn't believe the encounter he just had, but he was also puzzled at the way it had ended. He had expected a good-bye kiss or something but instead had basically been dismissed. Had Mrs. Cole played him and used him as a sexual pawn to get herself off, or had the whole thing been a wonderful spontaneous moment? The whole rest of the weekend was basically spent either trying to figure out what to do next with Mrs. Cole or masturbating to his memories of Friday. A couple of times he decided to call her, but then would chicken out. What if her husband or son answered the phone? What would he say? He ultimately decided that as much as he wanted to he would have to wait for Mrs. Cole to make the next move.

As she watched Mike leave her classroom Mrs. Gail Cole couldn't believe what she had just let happen. She looked down at the mixture of coffee and cum that covered the front of her shirt and didn't know what to think of herself. On one hand, at 18 Mike was an adult, but on the other hand he was a student and she had just jerked him off in her classroom. Her mind spun with thoughts of what she had just risked-her job, her marriage, and her reputation. She heard the janitor heading down the hall and realized she needed to leave. How could she face the janitor looking like she did with her room smelling like to brothel? She stuffed her nylons and panties into her purse and quickly put on a coat to cover her shirt and made her way out to her car.