Chapter 9
It was 6:55 PM and Randy had been parked across from the mayor's house for over an hour, just staring at the house. He couldn't stop the butterflies as he reflected on his unimaginable circumstance. It wasn't the sex that bothered him. That was the easy part. Even if he wasn't really attracted to the women, he was sure he'd be able to satisfy his...customers.
"Are these women customers?" he thought. The word stuck in his throat and made him feel dirty. Is Ms. Figgis doing this for money? The thought made him feel sick. It wasn't long ago that Randy had fantasized about melting the icy Ms. Figgis, making her feel desired and giving her a gift of passion. That was all gone now. Ms. Figgis wasn't a lonely, repressed, good-hearted woman in need of a man's attention; she was a bitter, sadistic, shrew who used men as she used a toilet.
Randy assumed that the women he was about to see were paying Ms. Figgis. A brief smile crossed his face as he thought, "Hey, maybe I'll make a few bucks out of this." The smile didn't last long as his optimism was quickly replaced with feelings of betrayal. It hurt to be treated so badly by a woman he once respected.
The alarm sounded on Randy's watch. It was time, and something told him that he shouldn't be late. As he approached the front door, Randy remembered his only meeting with the mayor's wife. It was at one of the plays that the high school had produced and she wasn't exactly the warmest person in the world.
Mrs. Thompson was not the most attractive woman in town. She was in her mid 50s but that's not what made her unattractive. It was her expressions. She always seemed to be in various states of anger or disappointment which made her face look harsh and weathered.
The walk to the front door was much shorter than Randy hoped. As he extended his arm to knock, the door jerked open. "Get in; quickly", she demanded. Mrs. Thompson quickly closed the door and led him upstairs to the bedroom. So much for the small talk, Randy thought.
The bedroom was huge, highlighted by the biggest bed he'd ever seen. "Hurry up, my husband will be home at 8", Mrs. Thompson barked as she removed her jewelry. Randy took a moment to check out Mrs. Thompson's body. She was wearing a beige silk robe that showed off a nice ass and what seemed to be some fairly large breasts. Her curvy figure was unexpected, since she usually dressed in unflattering, business type attire.
Mrs. Thompson sat on the bed as Randy undressed. He stepped out of his shorts and stood in front of Mrs. Thompson, showing off his muscular body. "Hmm, I see why you got the job. Ms. Figgis always did have an eye for talent." The word "job" rang in Randy's ears and the feeling of betrayal returned.
Randy tried to put it out of his mind and began rubbing his cock. As it became hard, Mrs. Thompson opened her robe giving a glimpse of her soft breasts. They were larger than he imagined but not the inflated monstrosities that some of his trophy girlfriends carried.
Now things were picking up and Randy pointed his cock at her mouth. Mrs. Thompson pulled back and said, "Do I look like some sorority girl on spring break? You're here for my pleasure, not yours. Now get busy."
Mrs. Thompson laid back and pulled Randy's head between her thighs. He got the not so subtle hint and began gently licking the outer fold of her pussy. "Mmmm, that's nice," she purred. Randy lightly traced his finger around the lips while he licked. Her hips began to move, inching closer to his face.
His tongue darted quickly inside her pussy, now trying to penetrate her with his tongue. Mrs. Thompson seemed to approve as she began to moan. Next she felt his finger slowly entering her; twisting, then withdrawing. His tongue moved up to her clit as his finger kept its pace, slowly entering, twisting and withdrawing
Randy quickened his pace, both the licking and the fingering, now adding a second finger to her dripping wet pussy. Two fingers thrusting and twisting inside her hot pussy. Mrs. Thompson ran her hands through his hair as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the intense feeling of having her pussy eaten. Randy's free hand moved up her body and squeezed her full breast. Softly playing with it and rolling it around her chest.
Mrs. Thompson was riding the edge of an enormous orgasm. The powerful strokes of Randy's fingers inside her hot pussy were so intense. The pressure built inside her with each stroke, now three fingers in constant motion, thrust, twist, withdraw. Every time the same, like a machine, sliding in his long fingers, twisting at the wrist and withdrawing.
"Fuck", she gasped, trying to hold back her orgasm, not wanting the feeling to end. Randy felt her pussy clinching his fingers, trying not to release. Her hips moving in time with his strokes, his hot breath on her clit, thrust, twist, withdraw; thrust, twist, withdraw; thrust, twist, withdraw.
"Cum for me!" Randy said as he looked straight up into her eyes.
"Fuck" The only word Mrs. Thompson could manage, her body writhing with pleasure.
Thrust, twist, withdraw; thrust, twist, withdraw; thrust, twist, withdraw, her body tensed, the pressure inside nearly unbearable. She let loose a scream as her pussy spasmed out of control, drenching Randy's face with her juices. Her hips bucked wildly and his tongues followed, lapping the sweetness and causing further shudders.
Mrs. Thompson's chest was heaving, having expelled all her air while she came so hard. Her body was trembling and spent. She took a deep breath as she began to regain her senses, the trembling now more like a low vibration coursing through her veins.
"Get dressed," She said while pulling on her robe.
"Don't you want me to..."
"Oh, that's right, it's not sex unless the man cums." She snapped. "Didn't anybody tell you silly boy? Whores don't cum."
Randy dressed quickly as Mrs. Thompson curled up in her bed. "I think you can show yourself out."
Chapter 10
The next few months passed in much the same manner. Ms. Figgis would send him out to various women and he would do whatever they wanted. It seemed the only rule was that the visit could not exceed one hour. Ms, Figgis set that rule and none of the women dared break it. Many men dream of this type of situation, being used for sex, but for Randy it was becoming a nightmare.
Some of the women were demanding like Mrs. Thompson and part of their fantasy was degrading a man. Those were tough days, but there were also some "appointments," as Randy came to call them, that were almost sweet and romantic. He met all sorts.
Mrs. Tolbert liked being fucked by two men, Randy and her husband, while her husband called her a dirty cocksucking slut.
Mrs. Camp liked being fucked up the ass while her husband jerked off in the closet.
Mrs. Collins loved to suck cock, but her husband thought it was beneath a woman of her standing. He came from a powerful family and they married just after she graduated from college, leaving a campus-full of spent cocks in her wake. Mrs. Collins couldn't risk her marriage by picking up guys in bars, so Ms. Figgis' service was the answer to her prayers.
Mrs. Johnson was a widow and she missed her husband. She didn't want sex, she wanted a companion and Randy was happy to help. They usually just talked or played gin; sometimes she would ask him to dance. Of course, she had to teach him first, but she had to do the same with her husband so it made her smile even when Randy would step on her toes just a bit.
Randy met all kinds and his schedule actually became routine. Here's a typical day.
Morning – teach class
Lunch – get cock sucked by Mrs. Collins in school parking lot; be sure to cum in her mouth or she gets mad. If she wears red dress call her a nasty whore. If she wears blue dress, finger her ass and pussy while she sucks. If she wears yellow dress, pretend to be her son.
Afternoon – teach class, eat Ms. Figgis' pussy during free period.
Night – appointment with Ms. Spears, the school librarian.
Ms. Spears was a surprising appointment. She was your stereotypical librarian, late 30s, small, frail, coke-bottle glasses, and her hair pulled back in a bun. He never figured her to be the type who would use Ms Figgis' special service. Randy figured this would be an easy appointment, she'd probably just want to see a movie or read poetry to him.
He arrived exactly on time, just as usual, and Ms. Spears greeted him with a smile. As they moved to the living room, Randy admired her house. It was just how he imagined it, very conservative, with the feel of an English country home.
"Please have a seat Mr. Tucker."
"Please, call me Randy"
Ms. Spears chuckled, "Yes, I suppose first names are in order under the circumstances."
