Good Sex Can Come Unexpectedly

The grizzly office manager with that morning's razor cuts adding to his facial unattractiveness entered the general office of Farm Accounting Services Ltd and snapped, "I want two volunteers to go overnight to Mt Diamond Station on Friday – overtime will be paid."

Dapper and genial Tony Charleston put up his hand; his mother wanted him to water-blast the outside of their house on Saturday, so this job offered a convenient reprieve. He was selected immediately.

Two females also had their hands raised: the promiscuous big-busted red-head Gloria Childs, who fancied a night away with Tony and mousy-hair Meg Williamson who wanted to gain experience interfacing with clients in their environment.

The nasty manager, Craig Duncan, thought he'd deprive Charleston of a bit of nookie so selected Meg.

At 10.22 on Friday morning as the company's single-engine aircraft took off from the White Diamond Station airstrip for its return journey, Tony and Meg were in a 4WD truck being taken to the homestead.

"Do you know details of White Diamond, Tony?" asked Meg, ignoring their semi-illiterate driver.

"Yeah, 448,000 acres and approximately 165,000 breeding ewes.

"Kingston Tuson was a pilot in the Air Force before coming home on his father's death and his wife Olive is the daughter of a millionaire property developer in Melbourne.

"You were told by Craig that their farm administrator Dave Higgins has done a runner. Well, he qualified a couple of years ahead of me and probably is in Bali now lying on the beach with a couple of hot chicks in each arm."

Meg's eyes widened at that last piece of information.

"Mr Duncan said drawings of $118,000 appear to be unaccounted for. Do you think we'll be good enough to find them?"

"Probably in a couple of hours if he's confined his fiddling to the one financial year and not bothered to be too sophisticated, knowing he'd be gone before the audit was done.

"It was only because Mrs Tuson wanted to go to England to see their two children at boarding schools did they find the cash account was well into overdraft. Higgins cleaned out eighteen thou from the cash account and Olive Tuson thinks another $100,000 has gone. If she thinks that in a quick scan we will probably find as much as $250,000 has been skimmed off."

"That much?"

"Yeah, perhaps even more."

"My goodness. Oh, by the way, what do I call the Tusons?"

"Listen to how they introduce themselves. They know me so it's first names. I'll just say you are Meg Williamson; if they use their first names, use them."

"Right, where will we sleep?"

"Well, if Gloria had come she'd slept with me, simply because she fancies me. You'll have a guest room next to me."

Meg, who's been increasing in confidence, turned crimson and fell silent.

The joint-property owners came out to meet the two investigating accountants.

"Hullo Tony," called Mrs Kingston.

"Good morning, Olive; hi Kingston. This is a new person on our staff, honors graduate Meg Williamson, who'll be assisting me."

"Hullo, Meg," said Mrs Tuson. "I'm Olive Tuson and this is my husband Kingston. Welcome to White Diamond."

"Good morning, Mrs Tuson. Oh, what a wonderfully colorful garden you have despite the prolonged drought. You've done wonders."

"Well, at least there is someone noticing that improvements are continuing around the homestead," Olive said, wrinkling her noses at her husband. Turning to the nondescript Meg she smiled, "Call me Olive, dear."

Just before 2:00 the two auditors, who'd worked through lunch eating mutton sandwiches with coffee, went out on to the porch were Olive was reading.

"You look as if you've had success."

"Yes, but unfortunately its all bad news – a criminal offence has been committed."

"How much?"

Tony looked apprehensive and Olive smiled, leaning down and picking up a radio handset.

"Kingston is out with the men docking lambs – I'll call him."

With communication established, Olive took the details and relayed them to Kingston. It ended with Kingston saying he'd fly to Wyalla Crossing on Monday to consult his lawyer about approaching the Police.

"It's the old story –trusting but you become too trusting," sighed Olive. "Well, you two have more than twenty-four hours to fill in. Can you ride, Meg?"

"Yes, I love it."

Olive used the radio to call a jackaroo (farmhand) and ordered two horses to be saddled and brought to the front of the homestead.

"Put on a light long-sleeved shirt on and wear trousers, Meg," said Olive. "I'll get hats for you both."

Meg heard Olive giving instructions to Tony.

They both mounted and set off.

"What was Olive saying to you?"

"To ride out to Diamond Hill which is that peak ahead of us five miles away, and when we return have the sun straight ahead of us and we won't miss the homestead and outbuildings. It's easy to get lost out here."

They rode to the top of the hill and saw an outcrop of very white rocks.

"Diamond Hill and white rocks – of course, White Diamond, the name of the station," said Meg, as they then sat to drink from their water bottles.

"Clever girl," Tony said smiling. Meg flushed, wondering why Tony was staring.

Meg was wearing a dark brown shirt. They were both sweating in the heat and she had two particularly dense perspiration marks under her breasts. Until that moment Tony had not been particularly aware of her physique as mousy Meg did not flaunt herself, quite the reverse actually.

"What?" she asked, as the stare continued.

Tony shrugged and turned to look at the horizon.

Meg could see that his white shirt was sticking to his back. She looked down and saw the perspiration band over her belly. Pulling her shirt outwards she saw the marks under where her breasts bottomed. She blushed but at the same time felt pleased: he'd noticed her not only as a work colleague.

"The Tusons should have picked up the unusual drawings in period checks of their accountants, shouldn't they?" she asked.

"Yes. Had it been a bad year they certainly would have. But money was flowing in and everything seemed rosy. They just became complacent."

Meg looked thoughtful.

"They should have spotted it a mile away."

"You would have, because you are trained to look for abnormalities, changes in patterns," said Tony.

"Their interest was looking at the bottom line, and they liked what they saw until checking when the check for Olive's travel to England presented for payment by the travel agency exceeded their overdraft limit. There should have been a cash surplus."

As they headed off for the homestead Olive mused that the live-in farm administrator had been so arrogant about his duplicity. All he'd done after the payment of any sizeable amount of income to the Tusons was to write out a check to Davey Associates and enter the drawing as 'Commission'.

Including the final cash check for $18,000 before the farm administrator went on 'holiday', a total of $311,321.83 had been paid into the bank account of Davey Associates, an account operated solely by the farm administrator, Dave (David) Higgins.

XXXXXXXX

They arrived back very hot to be met by an excited Olive.

"I phoned our bank manager Guy Robbins and told him about your findings. He thinks we've got a grand chance of getting most of the money back.

"This is because Higgins has made what Guy called two fatal mistakes – one was he hasn't left Australia and the other was in closing his account he didn't get the money out in cash – he stupidly transferred it to a different bank in a small settlement in Western Australia in the name of Davey Associates. The account which just over $300,000 has now been frozen and the Police informed."

The two auditors became equally excited and Meg skipped over and hugged Olive.

"Cook is preparing us a splendid meal for tonight – just for the four of us," said Olive, happily. "We've really got something to celebrate. You two go off and have a rest. We'll meet back here at 7:00 for drinks."

Tony showered and sprawled on his bed reading, then drifted off to sleep, thinking about Meg uncovering her breasts and beckoning him with a wicked look in her eyes. He woke around six and wearing only a pair of white shorts knocked at her door gently.

"Come in."

The call was soft and sleepy.

Tony entered and Meg was on the bed apparently nude, just completing pulling a sheet up to her neck. There was a chair beside the bed but Tony ignore it, preferring instead to sit on the bed and leaning over her, supporting himself with a hand on either side of her shoulders.

"Do you mind me being here like this?"

"No," she said warmly, but without encouragement.

The young man hovering over her was not unattractive to look at – wavy brown hair with sun-bleached tips, a slender and kindly face dominated by intense blue eyes and a strong chin. His mouth smiled a lot and the corners of the eyes on the tanned face crinkled to broaden his full smiles. Strong white teeth won Meg's approval and she was strongly tempted to reach up and stroke the small patch of soft-looking curly brown hair on a chest taut with almost unblemished skin.

"I dropped off to sleep thinking about you."

"Really?" she blushed. "Nice thoughts I hope."

"The image of your breasts was there and would not go away. My mind seems to think you have lovely breasts."

Meg's brown eyes seemed almost to turn black and her pretty milk-white face gradually lost the blush and her plump lips parted.

"I wouldn't know, comparatively speaking. Take a look if you must."

Tony hesitated, instead stroking the honey-blonde short-cropped hair.

'If you must.'

What did that mean?

Why hadn't she just said 'Take a look' or issued an unequivocal invitation, 'You are free to look at them'? Better still, why hadn't she simply drawn the sheet down and asked him what he thought?

Negative and positive broken thoughts appropriate to this dilemma fired through his mind. Why was he hesitating? God, if she'd been Gloria he'd be deep into her vagina by now.

Yes – that was it! Meg valued her favors – she did not succumb to every Tom and Harry's dick. A surge of excitement hit him; he'd love to know how he rated. Tony decided he would not touch her and she would be greatly impressed. He'd be an old-styled young gentleman.

He touched the bottom edge of her lower lip and Meg jumped, as he expected she would.

"I better go; Olive wants me to dress with her as she wants to dine formally as says I ought to fit into her daughter Wendy's clothes. Kingston has a spare dinner suit and you'll find it on the sofa in the TV room. She told me she wished to iron the shirt.

"So, what do you think?" Meg asked, slowly pulling the sheet to her waist, her eyes boring into Tony's.

They could be 34c's and the shape was difficult to appreciate as she was on her back. But Tony thought they looked good enough to eat; the nipples were a little stiff.

He stared and eyed her.

"They looked gorgeous."

"I was hoping you'd like them."

Tony looked down again and slowly pulled the sheet towards her knees, half expecting her to say something or to stay his hand; the other side of him was saying she wouldn't mind this at all.

She did nothing to apprehend him, signaling her consent. Tony's eyes swept over the feminine contour of her belly, over the tuff of hair atop her vulva and with a surge of excitement noted that she shaved, thinking that surely neither virgins nor prim and proper women shaved. Also she'd not moved to pulled her knees together to rob him of an unrestricted view.

"Oh my goodness," he whispered and was rewarded with a wiggled from Meg; he looked up at her face just as her tongue snaked though her teeth and well-parted lips, telling her, "You're beautiful."

It was a lie, of course, as Tony found little beauty in vulvas. But he found them erotic, and the signal that this one had slammed to his sex control centre deep in his brain filled him with pleasure.

Meg's response was a cry of delight and with both hands she pulled him down, unfortunately on to her belly, leaving his mouth stranded halfway between her tits and cunt which he now had a great urge to exploit.

"Come on, let me go – I must go, Tony," she said, patting him on the back.

By now Tony had a raging hard on, so standing up he eased the pressure, positioning it to lie upwards in his shorts. At the same time he looked at Meg, but her gaze was elsewhere, on the hand that was adjusting the position of his cock. Her mouth had unconsciously formed into a 'O' shape.

"See you later, precious," he said, and went off for a cold shower and hot shave.

Surprisingly, they'd come this far without having kissed!

In the shower, soaping his cock but refraining from over-exciting it, Tony said: "I think you are coming out to play tonight, my friend."

XXXXXXXX

They had cocktails, ate splendidly and then danced in the ballroom to music played on CD. It was all enjoyable, satisfying and romantic. Then at 1:30 Meg and Tony were alone.

Tony assumed command, instinctively knowing that Meg wanted him to be in charge but knowing she wanted him to ease her into the 'situation'.

Exactly was the 'situation'?

Well, after quite a few drinks a fellow could see little beyond getting that vulva uncovered, especially after what had occurred late that afternoon. But did she assume the culimation of that would be a thick cock thrusting between her legs?

Tony really didn't know, but simply assumed his Meg was like a doe in the wild, ready to scamper at the first indication that something was not right. Without delving into the intricacies why women who wanted to be shafted still have to walk around on tip-toes pretending all they wanted is to smell flowers, he said gallantry, "Let's walk in the moonlight."

"Yes," she said, enthusiastically, and then recoiled almost in horror. "But you can't walk in the dust in those dark trousers and I can't wear Wendy's graduation dress either."

They were standing in the room the Tuson's called 'the Day Room'.

"Let's strip off here, then, and go for a swim."

"What, everything?"

"Yeah, you undress me first," said Tony, thrusting himself at her, holding up his arms. Meg didn't argue. She undid his bowtie and removed the studs from his shirt, then assisted Tony out of his dinner jacket then removed his shirt.

Meg moved in and buried her nose into his small tuft of chest chair and breathed deeply – actually she breathed excessively strongly and noisily.

At that, Tony sighed in exaltation, knowing that she desired him, and that all barriers were down. She removed his trousers and Tony quickly removed his underpants and sox. Meg made no attempt to touch his penis but looked at it unblinkingly.

Tony removed the artificial floral piece over her left ear, then her gold hoop ear-rings and then unbuttoned the tight silver diamante shoulder jacket.

Her shoulders looked creamy and warm and very kissable so Tony muzzled them deeply. Meg moaned and arched her back, forcing her pelvis into his.

After a little of that Tony went behind her and slowly undid the twenty-three little fabric covered buttons and then lowered the dress; Meg carefully stepped out of it carefully to avoid damaging the frail satin and lace structured garment.

Until then Tony had been somewhat aroused, but when he saw the white stockings and the white straps of the garter belt and delicate lace panties his blood surged, his face darkened and his penis turned from half-mast into ram-rod ready.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered, really meaning it.

At that moment, while Meg was moaning and working furiously behind her back to undo her bra, time stood still for Tony. In front of him stood one hot woman that he'd surely be fucking himself blind within the half hour, his cock was pulsating, ready to go.

Tony stepped forward, tilted Meg's head to the side and kissed her deeply and dredging up all the emotions up to his lips as he could muster.

Never before could Tony recall ever putting so much into a kiss; it was their very first kiss. He broke away, pulling off her slip, panties and then clumsily unclipping her stockings from the garter belt.

"Oh Tony, oh Tony," cried Meg, thrusting herself against him.

Tony already has assumed that once he got her stripped, if indeed he managed to do that, he'd need to take her into the pool and to fondle her and appeal to her romantic inclinations.

But nothing of the sort: here was Meg thrusting herself at him, trying to mount his penis which was erect hopefully waiting for such an opportunity.

Once realizing what she was doing – that she was hungering for a length rather than just teasing for it – Tony obliged: he held his erect penis steady and lifting Meg, lowered her on to it.

She squealed as the shaft entered her, threw her head back and rolled her eyes up into her head, perspiration from the night heat pouring down her face and breasts. Meg's legs clamped around his lower body and as she began thrusting. Tony caught the rhythm and answered it with counter-thrusting.

Scarcely half a minute later Meg screamed and convulsed into what Tony could only assume was a series of orgasms.

Unbelievably, in the heat of this erotic moment, his cock squirted a number of big bursts deep into Meg's hot-hot cunt. Tony was surprised as normally he had to plug away for some time before getting a release.

"Oh Tony, thank you, thank you," Meg burbled. "That was so wonderful. It's almost two years since I've given myself to someone I've even remotely liked."

As he withdrew and placed Meg back on to her feet and watched his cum mixed with her juices leaking from her gash, Tony thought you must have more than remotely liked me.

"That was lovely, you almost drained me dry," Tony said, in a typical male attempt of conferring a romantic thought.

"Oh did me, how wonderful. I am so pleased. I love you, Tony."

"Shall we go into the pool," Tony said nervously. He was used to being called darling, sweetie and 'my hot fucker' by women, but to be told by someone that she loved him was rather scary.

Two other questions shot into his mind – should Meg go into the pool with cum and pussy juices leaking from her and was she on birth control?

Tony decided that his teaspoon of cum and Meg's tablespoon of cuntal juices were unlikely to significantly affect either the chemical balance of the purity of the pool water, so decided not to press that point.

"Er, I shot two or three big streams of cum up inside you – was it safe."

"Yes, dear Tony. You can relax and I've been on the pill since I was sixteen – just in case and tonight certainly has been a real attack on my chemical defensive walls."

"Huh? queried Tony, wiping cum oozing from his cockhead with his handkerchief.

"You've no need to worry," giggled Meg. "Christ, I feel stretched and filled to gunwhales."

Although not an overly modest man, hearing that comment Tony felt as if he'd grown six inches taller in height and his chest had gone out four inches. He was immensely proud of himself.

"Are you okay, can you walk to the pool with all that stuff leaking out of you?"

"Oh Tony, that was a glorious primitive fuck – I can't wait until we're on the bed and fucking conventionally. Let's go to the pool later."

Two minutes later Tony had his tongue as far as it could reach into Meg's soppy cunt, juices and air bubbles entering his lower nostrils while she sighed in triumph as she got all of his six and a bit inches into her throat.

It was mutually rewarding sixty-niner, nothing fancy but nobody was complaining. Tony took the opportunity to rim Meg's asshole with a moist finger-tip to explore the level of sensitivity. She was very sensitive, judging by the squeal and the big heave of her hips that almost sent him flying off her.