To fully understand the context of this narrative I would recommend you read "Loss of Amateur Status." Parts One, Two and Three.
*****
The next day found me walking up the driveway of a very impressive house. Again I was in that familiar quandary where I did not really know what to expect. I didn't have a clear idea of what Mrs. Lexington wanted either. OK, it definitely involved sex but that only narrowed the possibilities a certain amount.
As I approached I could see movement through one of the windows. I think Mrs. Lexington had me under anticipatory surveillance. The door swung slowly open to reveal my host, client, customer, trick... anyway, it was Mrs. Lexington. A huge smile lit up her generous features. She was wearing a black, silky looking, ankle length gown. I was literally dragged through the door and engulfed in a fierce hug. The concentration of the perfume she was wearing hit me with the subtlety of tear gas. I damn near choked. There was also another challenge to my breathing. She had dragged my head down to her breasts and I was wallowing in a bosom that made Dolly Parton look flat chested. I had not really noticed this when I first met her. Maybe it was the way she had been dressed but right now I was being overwhelmed by a titty tsunami.
"Oh you dear boy. I am so glad you came. Come with me." She released my head and took my hand and dragged further into the house. After no small walk we found ourselves upstairs in what I assumed was a guest bedroom. She sat demurely on the end of the bed.
I stood there feeling a little puzzled. Just what was expected of me at this stage? That was easily explained by her next comment. "Undress for me."
OK. That I can do. She was watching me intently as I unbuttoned my shirt, removed it and hung it on a nearby chair. I was a little startled when Mrs. L broke into enthusiastic applause. I undid my trousers and lowered them. My audience renewed her clapping and began bouncing up and down on the bed like an excited child. When my underwear hit the carpet I got a standing ovation.
"Agatha was right. You do have the body of a Greek God." That Cruella had passed a flattering comment about me was hard to imagine. The closest she had ever come to complimenting me previously was when she said my tile laying was almost adequate.
She advanced on my naked form and began a close examination similar to that she conducted when we first met only this was prolonged and rather more intimate. She was soon on her knees giving my old man the third degree.
"Oh yes. She was right about your penis too. It is just gorgeous!" I was now starting to think that Cruella had just been marketing me; enticing Mrs. Lexington into a booking. Hmmm... Cruella indulging in promotional activity or genuine physical admiration from the ice maiden? The jury was out on that one but regardless, I was happy to be appreciated.
I gulped when Mrs. L removed her robe. I had seen garter belts in movies and in porn but never in real life. Coupled with fish net stockings and a bra that caused her breasts to cupcake over the top, she looked like she had just emerged from the "Bad Taste" aisle in a branch of "Dildo's'R'Us". I was not complaining however. The sheer desperation of her attempt to appear sexy was somehow alluring.
Looking down at Mrs. L on her knees before me, it was looking likely that I was going to get some oral action but I was not expecting much in the way of superior technique. I fully anticipated Mrs. L to come from the "Cruella School of Fellatio" which lists "Barely Safe Novice" as its highest award. What a revelation then when she sucked me deep into her mouth and began a delightful rhythmic motion that was accompanied by a skillful hand movement up and down my shaft and another hand cradling and fondling my balls. First class cock sucking!
Although my mind was firmly fixed on the rather remarkable sensations Mrs. L was generating I was roused from my reverie by the sound of some sort of electric buzzer sounding off somewhere in the house. At first Mrs. L labored on but as the buzzer ringing became more regular and seemingly insistent she sighed and stopped her work. "You will have to excuse me. That is my husband." She bundled herself back into her gown and left the room.
Her husband! Shit! This was not part of the deal. I had a vision of an elderly, shot gun toting gentleman striding into the room and ruining my day. What had been a very proud erection became limp in milliseconds. I quickly bundled up my clothes and looked for an escape route. A sliding door which led to a small balcony looked promising so I opened it and moved outside. I quickly looked over the edge to see if it was possible to climb down.
As I looked I realized that the balcony had an extensive view over the backyard of the neighboring property. My poor luck was holding well. The little boy next door was obviously intrigued by the naked man looking down at him. I weakly waved at him and managed to conjure up an even weaker smile. He ran into his house calling for his mother. I could just make out his words. "Mommy, Mommy, there is a nudey, rudey man waving at me."
I did not wish to meet his mother at this stage so, banishing images of firearms from my mind, I ducked back into the room. I was still trying to contrive some sort of exit strategy when I heard heavy footfalls coming down the corridor. Someone big was in a hurry and they were headed this way. I dove under the bed and did my best to attempt to shrink down to an invisible size.
"Where are you my sweet?" The words of Mrs. L were a relief. I popped up my head over the edge of the bed. I must have looked like a startled rabbit.
"Oh you silly boy. There is no need for you to hide. Let me explain. My husband had a stroke eight years ago and is bedridden. Normally we have a nurse who looks after his day to day needs but this is her day off so I must attend to him. You are perfectly safe."
Reassured and relieved, I got to my feet. She shrugged off her gown and rubbed her hands together. "Where were we?"
