Glen Potter was about to have a day that would rock his world. Something was about to happen that was so sudden, so unlikely and unexpected that even when he got home that night, he still couldn't quite get his head around it.
He had started a window cleaning round when he lost his job with a firm of builders for 'borrowing' a couple of bags of cement. He didn't really mind, as a single man of twenty-four with few responsibilities it just meant he was now his own boss in every sense, and if he wanted a day off, he just took it. And, he believed, there was always the possibility of finding a randy housewife somewhere on his round, although that had not happened yet. But he lived in hope and expectation.
He was a man with a cheerful disposition, and most of his fortnightly clientele responded well to his easy manner and ready smile. But, of course, there were exceptions and one of those was Mrs Clifton, a tall sophisticated blonde lady in maybe her late forties. While she was not exactly unfriendly, she was very aloof, paying Glen at the door with little more than a 'good morning' and then retreating back into her expensive home.
And so he was surprised on this particular day that she came out and stood watching him work. Not saying anything and not really, as was the case with some clients, taking note of how close to the corners he got. She just seemed to stand there, too far away to speak to, but gazing at him deep in thought for long minutes before finally going back indoors without a word. But if he thought that was strange, more was to follow.
He finished the job, put his ladder and bucket by the gate as usual and rang the bell for payment. She answered the door, but instead of simply handing him the cash, she stood back and indicated for him to step inside.
"Can I offer you a coffee?" She asked, sounding strangely nervous to Glen's ears.
"Y-yes, thank you." He was so surprised he actually stammered his acceptance. "T-t-that would be nice."
She led him through into the kitchen where two cups laid out revealed a certain amount of preplanning, and gestured for him to sit at the table.
"Do you take sugar, Glen? It is Glen, isn't it?"
"Yes, it's Glen. And two sugars please."
He sat in silence after that, still trying to understand her change in behaviour, while she poured the coffee and placed a cup before him, taking the seat opposite.
"Now." She began brusquely. "There is something I would like you to do for me."
This is more like it, he thought, she's back into business mode.
"I want to ask you..." She hesitated as if considering if she should continue. "I need a photograph taken; a very personal photograph, and I wondered if you would mind helping me out?"
That was very much not like it! What kind of 'personal' had she in mind? He didn't like where this was going.
"What exactly are you thinking of?" He asked, trying to sound blasé.
"I need to be photographed sucking a man's ... thing! And I wondered if you'd photograph me sucking yours?"
He sat with the coffee cup resting motionless against his lower lip, completely stunned by her question.
"You want...? You're asking me...? Say that again!"
"I asked if you would be prepared to photograph me sucking your cock."
Glen was totally bewildered, and he couldn't pretend otherwise. He sat dumbstruck for what seemed like an eternity. Never in a million years would he have expected anything like this, no matter how much he told his friends that housewives were continually making advances. But then, why look a gift horse, etc, etc?
"Well, ok, yes... If that's what you... But you're a married lady."
It was an objection made because he couldn't come up with anything better and felt he ought to say something if only for the sake of appearances, but she took it seriously. She glanced down at her wedding ring and clamped her other hand over it as if to deny its presence.
"Can we pretend that it doesn't exist today? And if we can, will you let me suck you off?"
There was a silence as Glen was still trying to come to terms with her offer, but she interpreted it as reluctance.
"I know I'm a lot older, and I don't suppose doing it with a woman my age is a very attractive idea, but I'd be willing to pay you."
Glen looked at her, suddenly seeing a very nervous woman hiding behind the mask of control. Something was driving her, but he had no idea what. He made his decision and shook his head.
"No, you don't need to pay me, of course you don't, and yes, I'd like to -- as long as you tell me why. Because isn't it a bit iffy? I mean, what if your husband sees it and recognises you -- or me?"
"That won't be a problem I can assure you. And in any case, you will not be identifiable."
"All right then, but I do need to know why."
She sat in silence for what seemed like ages, and then came to her own decision.
"All right." She nodded. "That's fair. But I'll explain afterwards if you don't mind. It'll make more sense then."
He couldn't see why, but she obviously could and that was fair enough. And clearly she didn't want to delay. Perhaps she thought she'd lose her nerve if she waited. He didn't know, but no doubt it would come out with the explanation afterwards.
"You want us to do it now?" He asked, continuing when she nodded. "All right, let's do it. As long as you tell me why at some point."
"Thank you." She seemed genuinely grateful. "I will, I promise."
"All right then." He stood up. "Where do you want us to be?"
