Well, just like Mr. Thompson asked, I'd given the pipes a good cleaning out. She was definitely purring when I departed; that should keep her off his back for a while.
I was a little surprised to see Maria, the maid, smiling as I departed. Maybe she needed a cleaning out as well.
About 2 hours later, Rose paged me. When I returned her call, she indicated I needed to get back to the Thompson residence. All she said was be careful.
I hopped in the shower; if for no other reason, my groin smelled of dry pussy.
I put on decent shorts and a thong as well as an Izod shirt and sandals. Aftershave and that heavy gold chain finished off the ensemble.
I pulled into the driveway; and saw Mr. Thompson's Benz parked. What the heck was going on, I wondered.
I rang the bell; Maria answered the door. She had a smirky look on her face as she told me Mr. Thompson would see me in his den. Now I was really perplexed.
He had a scowling look which increased in intensity as I entered. Mrs. Thompson was sitting on the sofa with a downcast look.
He had the nerve to confront me. He wanted to know who I was to think I could fuck his wife and get paid for it. He was really steaming as he vented. Then he noted my gold chain.
He turned to her and accused her of spending his hard earned money on some two bit gigalo.
That pissed me off. I looked him square in the eye. I noted I might have many faults; being a cheap gigalo was not one of them. I told him if he spent more time fucking her like the whore she is, and less time at the golf course, we would not be having this conversation.
Mr. Thompson looked up and told him maybe he should spend less time working on Maria's visa application.
Lights came on. The randy old goat was fucking the maid. He was so enamoured with himself, he didn't even see the hottie he had.
That really set me off. I asked him if he would like me to contact the state bar association. I thought they might be interested in knowing he was taking sex from a client. Maria might work for him; but she was also a client.
That took some of the steam out of him.
I asked him what the "boys" at the club would say if they found out he couldn't take care of his whore wife. They'd be laughing their asses off at the thought she was paying the pool boy to clean her pipes.
I asked him what the media might think or report when they got the sniff of this issue. "Local attorney's wife fucking pool boy"; that should make a great headline.
Might even cause trouble with his appointment as a Judge, I suggested.
Now he was silent.
He began blustering. He thought we could work something out. Like that I knew I had the upper hand.
I told him to apologize to me. He did.
I told him to apologize to Mrs. Thompson. When he started, I told him to get on his knees at her feet. He did that also. He was red faced and perspiring heavily now.
She had a smug look on her face. I walked over and slapped her. I told her she should have been in control of this situation. What kind of house did she run?
When I turned as though I was leaving, she jumped up and fell on her knees as she grabbed my knees. She was sobbing. She pleaded with me not to leave her like this.
I had her then. I knew she would obey.
