Ms Marca Ch 55

My name is Marca. I am mid 30’s, 5'10", thick dark hair and a very womanly figure, with 40D breasts (for those of you who need to know, big round nipples silver dollar size) and 38, but very firm, athletic hips. I have been told that I have a perfect complexion. Large dark nipples cap my very creamy gold brown breasts and I have a shaved pubic area. I have a very sexy look and I usually dress accordingly, in a very professional but sexy manner. My husband, Tim, is a tall 6’ 4 “ 250 #, handsome man built like a linebacker in the NFL

Tim and I met when I was modeling. Tim was (and still is) very handsome. I was immediately attracted to his bank account, his intelligence, his bank account, and his good humor and did I say his bank account! We began dating and slept together about three months into our relationship. I had him begging for it. The sex was not good it was no way excellent! Now I am not going to lie (sorry boys) but size does matter. However, size is not the be all and end all. The most important thing is the interaction between a man and a woman. How they communicate. Do you feel free and uninhibited with your partner? Not afraid to take a risk? To say and do what you really feel? His almost five-inch cock combined with an open and fun loving relationship were all that I wanted. (What I was thinking at the time) It didn’t take long for me to know that his little PP was not going to cut it!

“God I could use a cock, a nice big cock!”

The doorbell interrupted her memory. She set her drink down, and walked down the steps to her front door, and looked through the peephole. She saw a middle aged man in a work uniform of some kind. Putting the chain on the door, she opened it.

"Yes?" She asked the man at the door.

"Hi I’m Bill here to fix your cable," he replied, holding up a photo ID card. She looked at the photo, read the name on it and the red script on white background on his shirt: both said Bill. She recognized the cable logo on the sleeve of his uniform, and remembered that she had called a couple of days ago about poor reception. "I have a work order here for a Mar cccccaaaa," he continued, mangling the pronunciation of her name

"I’m MAR’ CA," she corrected, and proceeded to open the door.

He was a handsome, early middle-aged man, carrying a toolbox. He looked like a good old country boy was about 6’ 2” not fat, more on the skinny side, looked to be about 55 to 60 years young, isn’t that sweet of me to think of him young, the old fart. Why didn’t they send a hot young stud about 25. With 5” heels on she made sure her ass had a swing to it as she led him up the stairs to the TV room, stopped at the top and turned to him, pointing toward the TV in the corner of the room. As she faced him, he was still three steps behind her and his eyes were focused up her skirt until he saw her turn and point. She watched his eyes move and refocus on her 40D and than he looked at the TV. He passed her on the landing, and walked toward the TV. She noticed he had a full front in fact it was hanging down and showing under his uniform, and he had a nice butt.

"There it is, and the picture isn't as good as it was a week ago," she explained, as he turned the set on.

The picture came on, snowy and fuzzy, the music of Brittany Spears playing on the VH1 channel she had on this morning.

"The VCR work ok, ma'am?" he asked her.

"Yes, fine. It's just the cable not the TV."

"OK. I'll check it out," he replied, as he turned the set off. Picking up her drink from the end table, she left him to it and went into the bedroom. She ran her brush through her long hair, and redid her lipstick, thinking this could be an interesting afternoon. Maybe it was the fact she had not had a god fuck in over a month, or maybe just having a stranger in her home who was doing a job, or maybe just the opportunity at hand. Whatever it was, she folded the top of her skirt under, which brought the length up another two inches but to the casual onlooker she would look no different, except showing more leg. She glanced out her bedroom door, and saw Bill stretched out half on his back on the floor with a light on the open TV back. She couldn't quite see his face, but she did look at his crotch opened with one leg on the floor and the other bent at the knee up in the air. She imagined or was that the out line of a real cock? Damn is he that big!

Walking over unnoticed to the TV, she stood next to it, and made sure her legs were about 10" apart, not far enough to be obvious but far enough to be interesting, before she announced herself, "Find out what it is yet?"

Bill turned from the TV and looked up at her. From the floor standing there she looked almost 8' tall, of which at least 7' were legs. "Uh, not yet," he managed to say as his eyes moved up her legs and up her skirt to see the black panties (thong).

"Do you think it's going to be hard to fix," she asked, not really caring, but wanting to stand there long enough for him to get a good eyeful. Getting a man interested was the toughest part. Once he was interested, the rest was easy.

"I don't think so, but I have to find out the problem," Turning her right foot, the one closest to him, at an angle, her leg bent at the knee slightly, exposing more thighs to his view, as well as tightening the muscle of her leg slightly. "Good, it's annoying not to be able to watch a program. Oh, gosh! Where are my manners?" Holding out her glass a little she asked, "Would you like something to drink?"

"Thanks, but we're not allowed to drink on the job," he replied, his voice a bit throaty, and coughed slightly. She recognized the signs, and smiled to herself; she had stood there long enough for him to start responding. "I have iced tea," she offered, reveling at this captive audience which could not really make offers or advances without risking the job. "That'd be nice."

She went down stairs to the kitchen and fixed him a glass of ice tea. While out of sight, she removed her bra. The blouse was not opaque, so he wouldn't notice it was missing. She unbuttoned the top button to give him a better view when she bent over. Walking back up to the TV room, she saw he was sitting up now, the flashlight on the floor. She picked up a coaster from the stack on the end table, and went over to him. Leaning over toward him, she felt the blouse fall forward a bit, and knew her preparation would pay off. "Here you go," she said as she handed him the glass of iced tea and watched his eyes move from her breasts to her hand as he took the glass, and then back to her exposed breasts down the front of her blouse. "And here's a coaster for the floor," as she squatted down, and placed it on the floor, giving him the 'double dose' of looking up her skirt and down her blouse in one look.

"Thanks," he said, and she noticed the glass was shaking a little, and she knew what he was feeling inside. "I hope you enjoy," she commented standing back up about a foot in front of him so he was still looking up at her, wondering if the double meaning would register. "I'm going to get out of these clothes now, I've been in them long enough today," she said touching her blouse with one hand, being sure it was close to her breasts, "if you need anything, just call me."

"Will do," he responded in the typical short sentences of a man in some stage of sexual arousal.

Well, now, she thought to herself as she walked to the bedroom, he knows what I look like and he's interested. I know he's trying to figure out ways to get more looks, and even fantasizing either getting off watching me or doing me. Walking into the bedroom to her dresser, she continued to wonder what she wanted more, teasing him or fucking him. Hell, she decided, I'll keep teasing he'll get so horny he'll make the move. But the thinking and the teasing had begun to work on her, as well as it had on him. As she took her panties off, they were wet, and when she touched herself, she felt a shock wave course through her body. Or, maybe not wait for him to make the move, she giggled to herself as her hand stayed on her wet pussy, creating a stimulating sight for her in the mirror of her dresser.

Walking back across the bedroom toward the door, out of the corner of her eye in the full-length mirror by the bed she caught the image of the repairman lying on the floor behind the TV. Her mind raced to the conclusion of a plan, and she continued to walk through the door. "Got you an iced tea, and forgot my drink," hoping he would poke his head up for one more look.

He lifted his head behind the TV, "There is a short in this one connection here, I think that's what's doing it."

Oh my god, she thought; perfect. Instead of going right back into the bedroom, she went back over to the TV, and leaned over the side of it to where the flashlight pointed. Looking at the TV, she was giving him another down the blouse look at her breasts, hanging just inches from him. She followed his hand where it was pointing in the TV, his words moving through her ears just as sounds. "Oh, is that a long job?" she asked, not knowing or caring what he was saying, he was getting a good view of her breast. She leaned back up, looked at the floor where the iced tea glass stood, and moving her legs apart a little. "Ops, better watch the tea," drawing his eyes to her legs and up her skirt again. Now, however, he didn't see black panties, but a cleaned shaved mound and her wonderful slit.

"Here," he said, and reached for the glass moving it about 6" closer to the TV, but in the process his head went forward, so when he looked up it was almost a perfect view straight to her pussy.

"It's ok, I'll get out of the way," with a wave of her hand, knowing she had accomplished her purpose, and now he would watch her. She turned and walked with that wiggle that said how good her ass was back into the bedroom and stopped at the spot she had noticed just a few minutes ago. Using her peripheral vision, she saw he was sitting by the TV, sipping the iced tea, having just watched her disappear through the bedroom door. She took off her blouse almost immediately to keep him glued to the mirror images. She succeeded, as she watched him, now a little bit closer, as she knew now that he would not be watching her eyes and might turn away so as to appear as if he weren't watching. He put his iced tea glass down, and rested his hand on the floor, now totally occupied with the half naked body he saw in the mirror. She ran her hand over her full firm breast and felt her rock hard nipples, reached behind her, unbuttoned the waist of her skirt, and let is slowly fall to the floor. She didn't want to be too obvious, but didn't really think it mattered much.

She knew she had him hooking, her nude body for him to see. With the casual sideward glances at the mirror, she could see the effect she was having on him. His hand was trying to arrange things between his legs in a futile attempt to ease the cramped condition that only seemed to be getting worse. She kept her backside to the mirror, hoping he was enjoying the view, and also hoping it would make her game a little less obvious. The move was perfect. She was perfect - and good old Bill, wasn't looking too bad either. When she bent over to pick up the skirt from the floor, she could see his reaction in the mirror, and knew exactly what he was seeing. A nice tight ass, slightly wet lips, and 40 D tan breasts swaying as she reached down to pick up the skirt. Timing was everything. She knew she could delay just a little longer on the guise of the skirt slipping from her grasp. She could tell Bill was not missing a split second of the show. He was openly massaging a rather sizable bulge in his pants. She wondered just how excited she could get him, and already knew what her next move was going to be. Skirt in hand, she once again turned away from the mirror, and toward the closet.

She didn't really need anything from the top shelf, but she knew what a sight she presented when she stretched up and reached over her head to get an imaginary item off of the top shelf. Well, a little side-glance at the mirror assured her that she was having the desired effect - Bill was now sliding his hand inside the waistband of his pants. Reaching into the closet, she pulled out one of her favorite outfits, a red silk wraparound dress, and began to slip it on, being careful to stay in line with the mirror. The dress fit just right, clinging lightly to the soft curves of her breasts. She lightly slid her right hand over her left breast, and could feel the hard, erect nipple against the sensitive palm of her hand. It seemed Bill was enjoying the show, because the hand he had slide down the front of his pants was doing a little moving of it's own. She had to push him just a little further to see how far he would go, and she knew just how to do it.

She loved the wraparound because of the access provided where the material stopped. She lifted the dress on one side to her waist, exposing her naked hip to the mirror under the guise of tying the belt that held the dress around her. It also let Bill know she had no panties or bra on. She turned away from the mirror, and purposely bent over at the waist to select the shoes she would wear. She knew from experience that her cute ass cheeks were well reflected in the mirror. She parted her legs just a little, and took her time getting the 6” ( whore looking fuck me pumps) shoes she would wear. She could peek through her legs, and even though everything was inverted, she could tell Bill was having a very hard time with the TV repairs. She took her time getting the shoes, slowly stood while still facing away from the mirror, and slipped into the shoes. Before turning around, she slid both hands to her backside, and smoothed the silk material over her ass cheeks. As she slowly began to turn and face the mirror again, her hands moved forward, and were soon resting, one on each thigh. As her hand moved upward, her head tipped back. Through lowered lashes she focused on the mirror. Bill was totally absorbed now.

At first she didn't understand why he choose this moment to change positions, but once he was repositioned behind the TV, she was pretty sure what he was up to. Most of his body was blocked from sight, but his head was still positioned such that he could see the bedroom mirror. Things were getting fixed there, but it was not going to help the reception on her TV. Now she had him where she wanted him. She purposely moved toward the mirror so he wouldn't have to wonder where she went, and then she continued out the bedroom door, and towards the TV. He had been flat on his back, and now lifted himself up on an elbow to give the appearance of working on the TV. The red dress was even shorter than the white one she had on when he arrived, so there was no doubt he was treated to the same tantalizing view he had received before.

She walked up close enough to reach out and touch him. From this angle, she could see the length of his body, and she was pleased and impressed with the results of her handiwork. She just stood there for a few seconds without saying a word, and he was so transfixed on her not so hidden secrets, that he didn't say a word either. She broke the silence, and asked how it was looking. He had to swallow twice, and wet his lips before he was able to mutter that it looked beautiful. She had to suppress a laugh, because he had no idea whether or not she was talking about the TV repairs, or the treat she was presenting him. She said it looked like he had the right tool to finish the job. It was hard to tell if he understood her meaning or not, because he just nodded dumbly and mumbled something.

She asked if he wanted more iced tea, and he said he did, and handed her the glass. He watched as she walked away, the dress not only shorter, but clung to her body and flowed in the air as she walked. He used the time she was gone to adjust his trousers and tuck his shirt in; the surprise of her coming over to him, and the strange mix of embarrassment and wondering, had reduced his hard on; his underwear, however, was still wet. He thought he noticed this time he looked up her skirt that her pussy was also wet, glistening slightly in the reflected light of his flashlight facing the back panel of the TV. He settled into his confusion of whether all this exhibitionism was intentional and for his benefit, or just a coincidence and she was really not conscious that he was watching or what he was doing.

As she dropped the ice cubes into the glass, she considered her options. Should she just tease him or fuck his brains out? She poured the iced tea into the glass, and knew she had to do something, her ache wouldn't just go away now that she had started events moving.

"Here you go," she said as she came back into the room. She put the glass on the end table by a chair, commenting, "You've been working on that for a while, take a break and sit down," as she nodded toward the table.

"I just finished, thanks," he replied, and pushed himself up from the floor with a little grunt. "Knees aren't what they used to be," he said with a slight chuckle.

"What is," Marca replied with a laugh of her own. She sat in the other chair, at a slight angle to the end table, and put her drink on it. "How long have you been doing this?" she asked, smiling to herself that even that could be taken two ways.

"I've been working on TV's most of my life," he tried to respond to the conversation without looking at her legs, all but the very top of them at her hips exposed. She didn't miss the movement of his eyes, however, and felt the urge between her crossed legs, and started to move her one leg over the other, creating pressure where she needed it. She watched as he talked about his career, sipped ice tea, every now and then moving slightly in the chair as his hard on returned. She draped her arm across the back of the chair, which pushed her breasts against the soft fabric so her hard nipples were almost completely visible, and her cleavage and top quarter of her breasts certainly were. She watched in total amusement as his eyes opened wider, and he shuffled in the chair. The conversation had stopped almost 30 seconds ago, as her body consumed his focus and she knew the longer he looked the less resistance he'd have for anything. She also enjoyed how he tried to look casual while his heart pounded and his bulge cried out for satisfaction. They sat there in silence, enthralled by the passion filling the room, neither knowing quite what to say or what action to take.

Bill broke the silence. "You look like one of those models in magazines.“ Marca smiled and gave him that bedroom sexy look. You seem to enjoy looking at me." It was casual, a statement of fact; carefully phrased to allow a way out in a tone that was neither seductive nor accusatory.

"You are a beautiful woman," he answered her, "and I appreciate beauty." It was not an outright yes, yet it left the door open for her to provide the stimulation that would allow him to seduce himself.

Using his own words, she said, "And I enjoy being appreciated." While she was speaking, she uncrossed her legs, and spread her feet apart just enough so she felt her thighs separate from each other. Bill was now sitting three feet away and looking at her full thighs, her shaved golden brown mound above her pussy, glistening slightly from the moisture of her excitement. Her nipples were still clearly defined by the light, clinging top of her dress; and half her breasts were clearly visible. Despite the iced tea, his mouth was strangely dry. She prodded him further, "Any words of appreciation?"

“Don’t you worried that your husband might walk in and see you dressed like that and he might get mad at me!” Marca gave him a big smile “I just got off the phone with him 5 minutes before you rang the doorbell. He is just getting past customs in Miami and want be in until late tonight.” “He will be dead tired when he gets in and go right off to sleep, with jet lag and all.” “He has been gone 10 days and I haven’t had anyone give me any attention the past 10 days!”