Chapter Four
I was still up to my elbows in a big Peerless transmission when Beau, one of the mechanics, said, "Damn Dave, are you trying to starve us to death?"
I glanced up at the clock and laughed.
"LUNCH!" I yelled, and cleaned greasy hands with GoJo, and headed for my standing lunch date.
She met me in the doorway this time, naked, and threw her arms around my neck and kissed me right there. I think she was kind of hoping someone would see.
In the kitchen, she had two lunches laid out. This time she had cooked, well, had warmed up anyway, chicken and mashed potatoes and corn. I suspected Colonel Sanders had been the chef, but I didn't say anything.
As we ate, the country music on her radio a soft background, she would break into a spontaneous giggle from time to time. The third time, I said, "what?"
She smiled at me and said, "I'm just thinking of how much you've changed me."
I chuckled at that. "I think I just figured out what you wanted," I said.
"Maybe," she said, looking thoughtful, "maybe I wanted to change. But I sure have."
She met my eyes and giggled again.
"What?" I asked.
"Oh, just wondering," she said, that giggle in her voice, "how you'll react to what I want today."
"Well," I said, chewing and meeting her eyes, "what is it?"
"Oh no," she said, a big grin on her face now, "not until we've eaten."
So I shut up and finished lunch.
We did dishes, companionably, and then she turned to me, very serious.
"Make me a whore, David," she said, "let me get on my knees and give you a blow job," and she giggled at that, "that's what you call it, right?"
"Yes," I said.
"And when I've satisfied you," she went on, "just toss some money on the table, whatever you think I'm worth, and walk out."
It was my turn to grin.
"I can do that," I said.
She dropped to her knees, strangely gracefully making me wonder if she had been practicing it, and started on my belt. Her hands were trembling, but I didn't help. I figured if she wanted to be a whore, this was a pretty basic skill to use.
She finally got the belt undone, and the button, and got me unzipped and pulled my pants down just past my ass. Just enough for the business she wanted to transact.
She smiled up at me and opened her mouth, reached up, and pulled out her upper plate, and laid it on the table. Then the lower. She smiled again, her face changed completely without teeth, her lips collapsing in that way of the toothless. She grinned and pink gums showed before she took me into her mouth.
As blowjobs go, it was mediocre. She was obviously not very experienced, but she was certainly trying. Her gag reflex was very sensitive, and there were several times I thought she was going to throw up. But she made it through, and she did understand my tells and slowed down as I got close, making it linger.
As I say, an average blowjob, but she demonstrated talent and with practice I figured she could get very good.
As I started to cum she jerked back, holding my erection in her hand, pointing it at herself. My semen spurted onto her forehead and into her hair, the second pump drawing a thick white line across the bridge of her nose, and the third a thick white glob, covering her lips and hanging like a string from her chin.
I smiled down at her, patted her head, said, "whores shouldn't wash their faces after something like that. Think of it as advertising."
I pulled up my pants, took out my wallet, dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the table, and left her there, on her knees in the kitchen, her face a mess, but smiling.
"Oh shit," Bonnie said, when I told her about the day's encounter, "David, I HAVE to meet this woman."
I grinned. "I think she's ready," I said, "maybe a double date Friday night?"
She giggled and said, "yes, please," as she dropped to her knees, obviously intent on demonstrating that she was better than Madonna.
I chuckled and said, "you don't have to prove anything."
She laughed and said, "I know, but you know what they say."
"What's that?" I asked.
"Do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life," she said with a giggle and got back to work on my belt.
As blowjobs go, this was excellent. The fact that it was my second in about 8 hours helped, but mostly it was my bride's technique. She brought me along slowly, taking me to the edge and then allowing a little rest so she could take me farther yet. My wife is a true artist with her mouth and tongue, and she kept me going until I was a shuddering, trembling wreck.
Like Madonna, she pulled off and accepted my ejaculate on her face and in her hair, adding a final suction, right on the tip, drawing out the last tiny drops.
She finished making dinner like that, and I enjoyed watching her.
"Let's take her to dinner," she said over her shoulder, finishing the spaghetti sauce she was working on, "and then bring her home. Make sure she understands it's for the weekend."
"You're really looking forward to this, aren't you," I said.
