Finding a house because you don't like where you are living is one thing. Finding a house as a result of a "forced relocation" by your local friendly employer is another matter. I got the word that I was leaving Ohio and moving to Denver in late November. As if getting used to the new group of people you work with in a new city isn't bad enough, you have to go out in a city you hardly know and find a place to live. To make things worse, my relocation happened in the middle of winter. Yea, Merry fuckin' Christmas. By the time I got off work each day, there is about zip sunlight left. I was, nonetheless, in need of a house. I phoned a local ReMax real estate agency and was turned over to a "relocation specialist" (aren't they all?).
She sounded nice on the phone, but I imagined I was really getting my usual image of a real estate agent; some kid's mommy who got bored staying home and thought she would go out and sell houses part time. Just in case you don't have the picture nice and clear, she is also pushy (probably in the job description), smokes (ditto), and has about the same sex appeal as a gerbil. This one's name was Claudia and I agreed to meet her at her office on Wadsworth Boulevard after work that day. Funny how the mind works. The last woman I knew by the name of Claudia was in college. If she weighted an ounce, she weighed 500 pounds. To say she had pendulant tits was something of an understatement - she had a pair of udders! Yea, she was so good looking that she made a moose look cute. As it turns out, I was in for a surprise. I just assumed that this Claudia would look like the other one, no particular reason, I just did. That was my perception of a Claudia.
At the end of the workday that day I went over to the real estate office. Before leaving my car, I slipped my Mini-Maglite flashlight into my jacket pocket. Looking at houses in the dark isn't a great idea, but even in broad daylight it often helps to have a flashlight to look into those places that agents would rather you didn't. I waltzed into the office and asked for Claudia. So much for preconceived notions, she was really cute and probably in her late twenties. She was wearing one of those clingy sweater dresses that leaves nothing of her figure to you imagination. Things were looking up. I followed her back to her desk (and to show you what sort of pervert I am, she had no wedding or engagement rings, a thin bra strap, and very skimpy - probably thong - undies on), and we talked for a few minutes about what I was looking for. A few minutes later we left for a house she had listed just west of Brighton. She was the only one who had a clue about where it was, so naturally she drove. She really was good looking, in spite of that winter coat she was now wearing. I was having a hard time keeping my eyes off of her, and would have loved to get my hands on her.
After driving for what was probably going to be more of a commute than I wanted, we arrived at the house. It was very hard to tell what condition the outside was in with as little light as there was now, and I could only get a fair idea of what the yard looked like. Claudia unlocked the front door and we stepped in. It was warm in the house, but when she hit the light switch, nothing happened. The previous owner had moved out, and it was one of those new houses that have no built in lights! Okay, there was one exception. There was a light in the kitchen, but that sure didn't light the rest of the house. We would be stumbling around in the semi-darkness trying to see what this place looked like. Damn good thing I had my flashlight with me, as she didn't have one with her or in the car. It was warm enough that we shed our coats in the kitchen and then proceeded to look at the rest of the rooms - as much as we could with one little flashlight. Did you ever try to figure out what color walls and carpet are with a flashlight? Nice trick if you care to try it some time.
"We might as well start in the basement and work our way up," she said. "It's partly finished, and it's down here she said starting down the hall.
We went down the hall to a door. She opened it and suddenly stopped. I had expected her to just go on down the stairs, and so I ran right into her backside. To keep from pushing her down the stairs, I instinctively put my arm around her waist and pulled her to me. "Sorry," I said, "I thought you were going down the stairs." She felt great; nice firm body!
"That's okay, I just thought the one with the flashlight ought to go first as it's dark down there."
I thought she would have stepped away from me, but stayed up against me as she reached for my hand with the flashlight.
"It's partly finished," she said taking the light. " They finished in one bedroom and another closet or something. I say 'something' as it's too small to be a bedroom and too large to be a closet. There are two large ring-bolts in the ceiling, so maybe that's where they did kinky sex or something," she said as she started down the stairs.
Maybe she had sex on the brain just as badly as I did. I must admit I was paying a lot more attention to her than I was the house, even if it was pretty dark in there. "Kinky sex, as in the whips and chains thing?" I asked.
"Could be. I never bothered to ask them before they left the state."
We looked around the unfinished part first, and then went into the one bedroom down there. She stopped short in the doorway and I again ran into her. She had the flashlight, so I had no idea why she stopped, but I sure liked bumping into her! Again I put my arm around her to prevent her from falling forward. "Oops, sorry," I said.
"I just thought you were farther back and was waiting for you to catch up. I didn't want to get too far ahead and leave you in the dark."
"No, I'm right behind you." Somehow I got the idea that she liked me bumping into her. That excuse sounded a little thin, but I sure liked the feel of her. I was a little slower in removing my hand from her stomach, and slid it across her stomach and part way down her hip before removing it from her. She didn't say or do anything to discourage me. Quite honestly, at this point I didn't know if she thought I was just some horny guy who couldn't keep his hands off her and was copping a feel or two, or if she was encouraging me.
We looked at the small room with the ring-bolts in the ceiling. I wasn't willing to read quite as much into those rings as she was, but went along with her theory anyway. "Maybe they called this room the dungeon," I offered.
"Could be. Maybe they had it down here so they could make all the noise they wanted to and no one would hear them. You could probably scream and moan all you wanted to down here and no one would hear you outside."
She had to be encouraging me; she really did. I didn't know if she was into that kinda kinky sex, but I didn't happen to have any rope with me and there was no carpet on the floor. This was not a room for sex right now unless you wanted to do it standing up. "Let's see the other rooms upstairs," I suggested.
"Okay, right this way," Claudia said heading for the stairs.
We looked at the other rooms in the house and finally got to the master bedroom. A little light from the kitchen made its way into this room helping a little, but very little.
"This is really a pretty classy master bathroom," she said opening the door to the bathroom. "It even has a bidet."
"I guess his wife liked to really get clean before or after sex."
"Maybe he put it in so she could wash herself off before he ate her."
"Nah, there is something very sexy about the natural taste and smell of a woman, unless she really gets ripe. It was probably to wash herself off after sex."
"Do you like the natural smell of a woman?" she asked turning to me.
