I'd slept with clients before, but it never got this out of hand.
As an interior designer, I'm often the pet of a wealthy matron and this case started out no differently. I should stress that I don't seek out these unions, but I'm single and straight and male. Those are my excuses. Take it or leave it.
Todd and Karen hired me to fix up a small rental unit they owned and that they were now giving to their recently married daughter, Beth. We'd worked together on their three story town house and their 12 room summer "cottage". Now they were calling me in on something that was not up to my usual fare, but as a "favor" to established clients, I looked at the place and gave my fee. Todd reminded me to keep it cheap and then left to a business meeting.
Karen and I stayed behind to discuss the "theme". It didn't take me long to realize that Karen had misgivings about her daughter getting married.
"Can you see me as a grandmother?"
"Well," I said diplomatically, "a surprisingly youthful and beautiful one."
I wasn't lying. Karen was gorgeous in a refined elite way. She was petite and slight, but with a full bosom usually held behind well-fitted jackets. Her pants-suit framed her ass well and gave the impression that nothing was sagging. I knew from earlier conversations that she visited the gym regularly. Add to her fine figure a professional manicure and hairstyle, and you can imagine that I was faced by quite the cougar asking me if I thought she was attractive.
"Karen?" I asked, not answering her question directly but jumping straight to the point,"Is everything okay at home?"
She just smiled.
We moved about the house discussing the kitchen (full makeover), the bathroom (should we leave this as is?--no.), the living room and the bedrooms.
"This should be the master bedroom," I was proposing," with the exit to the balcony and good evening light."
Karen just stared at the ratty double bed that had been left there.
"We'll replace that of course." I commented misreading her thoughts.
"This is where they'll fuck."
What could I say?
"His young stiff cock will stay hard and pummel her for hours."
Karen stared a bit more and then broke the tense silence with a laugh, took me by the arm and led me out the door.
"I'm sorry you heard that, I've become a bit obsessed lately."
"Obsessed or horny?"
"Both."
I prepared plans within a few days and set a time to go over them. As had become our custom during our previous projects, Karen invited me over for a working dinner. Her hobby was cooking and I was always treated to a culinary delight as we reviewed my drawings.
That we were alone with Todd out of the country for three days was not unusual. That Karen served wine was also not altogether out of sync. But when she opened the door in a sleeveless red dress that left little cleavage to the imagination, I had to apologize for wearing jeans.
"Don't worry, we'll take them off later," she said matter-of-factly, turning to hang my coat, and the discussion ended there.
Everything, went smoothly. She liked what I'd done, adding a few pragmatic points. I enjoyed her cooking and said as much. We were sitting opposite one another at their small breakfast table, set for just the two of us. As I threw my napkin onto the table and thought to get up, I felt Karen's bare foot push up the leg of my jeans.
"Are you ready for desert?"
Karen was staring darkly into my eyes and running her tongue across her ruby red lips. At the same time her hands crossed over her chest each reaching the opposite shoulder and throwing aside the stringy shoulder straps they found there.
"Come, Terry, I want to show you something." She stood and came to my side of the table, taking my hand in hers. Her dress slid down and one breast popped out. I admired her bare aureole and pert nipple, but this was not what she'd meant to show me.
Instead, she led me by the hand, seemingly oblivious to the fact that her dress was falling off. By the time we reached the staircase, she had to step out of the dress, but long before that it was clear she had nothing else on. I climbed the stairs behind one of the most beautiful behinds I had ever seen and was straining my eyes to glimpse her vagina between her thighs. When we entered her room, lit by several dozen candles, she turned to me and let me see it all.
"Let me ask you again Terry, do you really find this old lady attractive?"
"Stop calling yourself 'old'." I reproached as I simultaneously leaned in to kiss my shameless matron of the month.
Karen made short work of my shirt, and opened my jeans up just enough to pull out my cock and start sucking. She was doing a fine job at it too.
I'm well built, keeping in shape at the gym and on various job sites. I look rather the outdoors man, not a look you often find in my more genteel line of work. But people appreciate my no-nonsense approach to design. Occasionally, like Karen, they appreciate my 8-inch long and rather thick cock.
I came rather quickly down Karen's throat. Her sucking was fantastic and I enjoyed pinching her nipples and watching her dark hair bob up and down along my shaft. I gave her no warning, but she swallowed my ejaculation like a pro. Then she got up and helped me remove the rest of my clothes.
"How did that feel?"
"Terrific."
"Ready to return the favor?"
"Is the muffin warmed up?"
"Warm and moist."
Indeed it was.
Need I go into the graphic details? We aren't teenagers romping all over the mattress at every angle. Rather two adults, some ten years apart in age. I crossed forty a couple years back and Karen must be mid-fifties though she's far better looking than my miserable ex-wife. She sucked me while I stood, then I kneeled to eat out her cunt. Stroking myself hard as I nibbled at her large clit I was eventually able to penetrate. We fucked missionary style for a few minutes and then I pulled her on top. She wasn't comfortable with that the first few times we fucked, but got used to the idea eventually. By our fourth "work-session" she asked to try doggie style, and liked it.
If we did anything kinky, it was when her daughter's new bed arrived at the apartment. As with all deliveries, I was there to make sure we got the right product and that no damage was done. The delivery team left me to unwrap the plastic wrap and Karen found me there with sheets and towels in her arms. Fucking on her daughter's wedding bed meant nothing to me, but Karen had an intense orgasm and didn't want to stop. When I couldn't go on any more, she pulled a dildo out of her bag and proceeded to fuck her ass. I made a mental note to try and get in that hole myself.
I actually enjoyed the wedding, where I met Karen's daughter for the first time. The bride thanked me for her fantastic new apartment and Todd jokingly reprimanded me for not keeping to the budget. Karen looked suddenly ashamed as I briskly shook Todd's hand. He was beaming with pride and had no clue I was fucking his wife almost weekly. I didn't think he'd care (as long as no one found out). I enjoyed myself, but left early. Karen caught me on the way out and asked if we could slow down a bit. I smiled a knowing smile and told her that she could call, but I wouldn't call her.
Daniel looked me up and down and whistled, making a fuss at seeing me dressed up in a suit.
"Just came from a wedding."
Daniel's the manager at my regular bar. It's where I go to grab a beer and a sandwich when I don't feel like going home alone. The chances of meeting a bed-partner there are slim, indeed almost non-existent. On the other hand, there are a lot of friendly people who enjoy drink, good rock-n-roll, some pool and conversation. We're an older crowd, but the live music shows draw a younger crowd that helps to liven up the place. Tonight was such a night.
I held court at my end of the bar having fallen into an interesting conversation with an ex-Marine and a tourist from Ireland. I also briefly flirted with one of the regular bar-flies. Around one in the morning I was pretty pickled and thinking about heading home. The band was winding down and most of the crowd had faded into the woodwork.
Just then two boisterous young ladies in matching dresses stumbled into the bar. From the color of their chiffon, I knew instantly that we'd come from the same wedding. These two bridesmaids however, had spent more time at the open bar than I had, and were barely standing as they slipped into a booth.
Daniel raised his eyebrows and went over to take their order, but more likely to tell them that he couldn't serve them. In a flash he was back by my side.
