To Liberate a Tiger

Guy was a twenty-five year old washing machine service engineer who was mentally and physically marred by the scarring of adolescent acne. He was also thin, shy, and sexually frustrated, and was altogether the exact opposite of all that service engineers are supposed to be. His was not the life of continual housewife conquests and extended house calls no matter how much he wanted it to be, and on the only two occasions that he had made half-hearted advances to the ladies he had called on he had been rebuffed instantly, and threatened with being reported to head office. He had learned to keep his wishes and fantasies to himself and wait for a woman someday to make the first move. Not that he expected that anytime soon. That is, until one particular day when he was called out of his area to attend to a wealthy and important client when the usual area engineer unexpectedly went off sick.

Denise Miles was the forty-seven year old wife of Eric Miles, millionaire owner of a string of fast food outlets dotted all across the South of England. She was also blonde, exceptionally beautiful, and extremely sexually repressed, for when it came to the bedroom her husband viewed her in much the same way as he viewed his customers, to be serviced with as little effort as possible, as quickly as he could, and with the maximum amount of return for himself. His shortcomings must have been apparent even to himself, for he continually threatened violence if she should ever take her needs elsewhere, threats that he had unjustly carried out more than once. It was his insane and paranoid jealousy that finally made her determined to make up for what she had missed when the next opportunity arose. She had done the time, she reasoned, and now she would do the crime. Not that she expected that to happen anytime soon. That is, until one particular day when a strange, gangly service engineer called to fix a faulty washing machine.

Usually Eric made sure that he was home if anyone was due to call and then hung around to make absolutely certain that not so much as a wink passed between his wife and whoever the caller was on that occasion. But this time he took one look at the stuttering youth who stood fidgeting with his tool box, clearly in awe of his surroundings, and figured that this time he was safe to leave everything to his wife. Not that he was leaving them to it altogether - he wasn't that trusting. He felt sure that his presence in the garage that adjoined the laundry room was enough to ensure that nothing could happen between a sophisticated middle aged woman and an engineer who only a mother could love.

Bizarrely both Denise and Guy were immediately and instinctively drawn to each other as the opposite faces of the same coin, perhaps their own limitations and restrictions allowing them to see beyond those of the other. But whatever the reason, Denise saw slim, not skinny, and restrained rather than timid, and she didn't see the acne scars at all. At the same time Guy saw past the severe hairstyle and drab middle-aged clothes to the voluptuously sexy body they covered, the difference in their ages being as invisible to him as his ancient acne was to her. Each was intuitively sure that the other was a tiger waiting to be liberated, and as soon as they were alone together the air positively crackled with pent up sexual energy. But it was, of course, left to Denise to make the first tentative advances, the sound of an engine starting up next door allowing her to flirt, albeit quietly.

'I imagine you enjoy the perks of your job, don't you?'

He looked up with the side panel of the machine in his hands, puzzled incomprehension plastered all over his face.

'You know.' She pushed on. 'Calling on all those housewives alone in their homes?'

He shook his head, trying not to see where the conversation was headed.

'Don't tell me you never service more than the washing machine?'

She placed a heavy emphasis on the word 'service' so that he couldn't misunderstand this time.

He felt colour rising in his cheeks as if she had somehow discovered his fantasy. He shook his head again, more emphatically, burying his face in the innards of the machine.

'No, never.'

'But what about when women make a pass at you? They do, don't they?'

'It's never happened to me.'

The little words 'to me' tugged at Denise's heart strings more than a little and she made the decision that she would push things as far as they would go, Eric or no Eric.

'What would you do if they did?'

'I wouldn't do anything.'

Inside he was saying to himself that he bloody well would, if only he could pluck up the courage.

'Why not? You're not 'the other way' are you?'

'No!' He emphatically denied the implied homosexuality.

'So, wouldn't you like someone to fancy you?'

'Yes. But....' His voice trailed away in confusion. She looked directly at him and waited, forcing him to finish.

'But what if they change their minds and report me?

'I fancy you, and I would never change my mind.'

There, she had said it and it was out in the open, and when he looked up at her she could see surprise on his face and frightened lust lurking deep in his eyes. An unspoken, unknowing pact was made between them at that moment, and all they had to do now was to recognize it and then somehow fulfil it.

He stood up from the machine with a broken inlet valve in his hand.

'Wouldn't you?' He asked.

'No.' She answered flatly

He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to react, and so he just took the new valve out of its box and stared at her.

'What would you do if I came on to you now?' She asked in a whisper, her own nervousness clear in her voice.

'I don't know.' He licked suddenly arid lips and felt his heart begin to hammer.

'Wouldn't you like me to?'

'Yes, if you really mean it.'

She came and stood close to him, looking into his eyes from only a foot or so away as she reached across and fondled his terrified and flaccid penis through his jeans.

'There.' She whispered. 'Now you know I mean it.'

He said nothing and she carried on fondling him, smiling when she felt his body react, his cock unfurling and lengthening behind his fly.

'What if your husband comes in, he's only next door?'

The words came as a frightened whisper.

'Yes, I know.' She sighed softly. 'We can't do anything while he's here, but you can always come back another time.'

He didn't answer, even when she cupped his balls through his jeans and gently played with them.

'You can come back another day, can't you?'

'Yes. But what reason would I have if he was here?'

She stopped for a moment to think and then, releasing him, she went across to his tool box and removed a pair of long nosed pliers.

'Come on Monday.' She told him decisively. 'Because he's in the office every Monday checking the last weeks turnover figures, and if for any reason he does happen to be here; well you left these and you've come back for them.' She waved the pliers in front of him.

'Okay, but I don't know which Monday, this isn't my area.'

He was back-pedalling, giving himself a get-out in case his nerve failed.

'That's all right, any Monday.' She paused, looking for a way to make sure he returned. 'Is there anything you'd really like us to do when we can? Anything special that you've not done before?'

There was; it was his all time fantasy and he'd said it before he could stop himself. 'I really fancy having someone suck me off?'

'I'd love to do that. And I guarantee that the next time I see you when Eric isn't around, that's the first thing I'll do. I promise.'

Her breathing was getting noticeably faster and he was blushing again, but before they could say or do anything else the sound of the engine stopped and a car door slammed. Guy dropped onto his knees behind the machine and hastily began fitting the new valve while Denise took a quick step backwards, turning to face away from the kitchen door. Eric marched in and glared around him, unable to see anything wrong but not convinced.

'You're taking your time.' He challenged Guy.

'I'm... I'm nearly done.'

'Well don't try spinning out your labour charges with me, it won't work.'

'No Mr Miles, I'll be done within the callout time.'

Denise left them to it, knowing that her presence would only exacerbate things and certain within her own mind that Guy would definitely be calling to collect the pliers that she had hastily pushed into her pocket.

Guy was not so sure. He finished up as quickly as he could, got his job sheet signed and left, his heart hammering once again, but from fear not excitement. He was only too aware that if that door hadn't banged he would have probably been caught letting his clients wife touch him up. Yeah, sure he wanted her, yeah sure he knew that sex was on offer, he just wasn't sure he wanted to risk it. His job wasn't worth risking for a shag and a pair of pliers.

Even so, when he pulled into a lay-by a little further down the road to let his heart calm down, he found he began thinking about her body under that dowdy two piece, her full breasts, her curvy bottom and long, sexy legs. It wasn't long before his zip was down, his cock was in his hand, and he was emptying his balls into a wad of tissue and wishing it was her mouth. Then he decided to push her firmly out of his mind as a nice but impossible idea. Except, of course, he couldn't.

For the next couple of weeks all he could think about was having her mouth wrapped around his cock and his cum flooding into it. Every morning when he woke up his morning hard on was dedicated to Denise and every day while he was out on his calls he had to find somewhere to park up and baptise another wad of tissue. It was getting ridiculous, the fact that a gorgeously mature woman had promised him a blow job, if ever he could get up the nerve to visit her, was taking over his life. Finally he booked a Monday off and promised himself he wouldn't chicken out, and for once in his life he managed to conquer his doubts and fears and actually do what he wanted. And so on the Monday morning, the third one since his initial call, he was on his way, wondering how much of her promise was a wind up and how much was for real, and did he really want to risk testing it out?

Fate, of course, didn't care about the courage he had had to muster in order just to go, nor about the fear he had of not being able to get an erection when the time came, nor about how randy he felt when he parked his van and apprehensively pushed open her gate. It had simply decreed that Mrs Miles wasn't at home and no amount of knocking on her door was going to get him a blow job from someone who wasn't there. Grumbling to himself and swearing at his own stupidity for making such an unannounced call in the first place he trudged back up the drive, climbed back into his little van and drove all the way back to his home town, cursing his luck most of the way. But if nothing else he could use the time to renew his private car insurance so that the day's leave wasn't totally wasted. And there were some other bits he could buy while he was in town.

He parked in a residential side street to avoid parking charges of the multi-storey car park and walked the last half mile into town, still horny and frustrated. He'd find out if she meant what she said another time, he swore to himself, squaring his shoulders and putting his frustrations behind him to make for his insurance broker on his first errand of the day.

A short time later, after having renewed his car insurance for the next year at what he considered an exorbitant figure, he stood outside a shopping centre deciding that he couldn't afford the new shirts he wanted after all. Then, as he stood there wondering what to do next he spotted a familiar head of blonde hair come out of an expensive lingerie shop and start walking towards him. No wonder Denise Miles wasn't at home, he thought petulantly, she was out spending money. I bet she doesn't have to wonder if she can afford anything. Even the floral print summer dress and high heels she was wearing for going shopping looked expensive.

She got to within six or seven or feet of him before she saw him and her face lit up. 'Oh, hello Guy. I was thinking about you yesterday.' She smiled broadly, innocent of his frustrations. 'Isn't it strange meeting here? I do my shopping in this town rather than close to home because that way his lordship doesn't know what I'm buying, and his friends won't be reporting back to him.'

'And I was thinking of you a little while ago.' He smiled back, his dark mood suddenly lifting, their unexpected meeting and its revived possibilities giving him an unaccustomed self-confidence. 'I hope your thoughts were as nice as mine were, Mrs Miles.'

'It's Denise. And yes, they were. And then some!' Her eyes twinkled, letting him know exactly what she'd had on her mind.

'Denise.' He acknowledged her consent to use her first name. 'And now I know why you weren't there when I called on you earlier.'

'Did you?' For a moment she looked puzzled, and then her face split into a delighted smile. 'Did you call for...? She looked about her, wanting to be more explicit but afraid of being overheard. 'Your pliers?'

He smiled nervously at having actually made a move and inclined his head in assent. 'I kind of hoped... Well, you know, It's Monday and I sort of fancied taking you up on what you said.'

'Then I only wish I'd been there, but in honesty I didn't think you'd call.'

'In honesty, neither did I.' He admitted.

She leaned towards him, giggling conspiratorially and keeping her voice low. 'I promised you that any Monday you were in the mood to call I'd be ready, didn't I? And I meant it even if I wasn't home when you called. But we can't do much about it in the street, can we – we'd end up being arrested.' She paused as a sudden risky thought struck her. 'Unless you want to take a chance?'

'What here!' He exclaimed, misunderstanding and shocked.

'God, no!' She looked as shocked as he had. 'That would get back to Eric in half a minute flat regardless of distance. No, I meant that my car's in the multi-storey where it's nice and quiet, and the back seat's comfortable....' She smiled enquiringly, enticingly, letting the words hang.

'Now that sounds possible.' To his surprised delight he felt his cock already beginning to expand in readiness. He'd never done anything in the back of a car, so now he could end up satisfying two fantasies instead of just one, and nor could he believe either his luck or his newly found courage. It looked as if he was about to have a woman service his cock in a way he had only dreamed about and he felt the unexpected confidence to let her do it.

She was right about her car, it was parked in a quiet corner, almost as if she had anticipated what would happen. They had walked urgently but in silence, dodging other shoppers, pretending not to be together but each glancing occasionally at the other to be sure of their continued presence, both of them eager to begin, and now that they had reached the big silver Mercedes they climbed in opposite sides of the back seat, still without a word. They settled into the soft ivory leather seats and Guy looked around at the luxury car unused to such surroundings, but Denise leaned across impatiently and felt at his erection through the front his jeans before suddenly pulling back.

'I'm sorry, I just want...' She glanced around her, as if looking to see if anyone was within hearing, even though the car windows were closed. 'I just can't wait to touch you. God, it seems I've always been thinking about touching you, or having you touching me, since that day when you called.'

'I've not been able to get you out of my head either.' He paused. 'Although to be honest I didn't really think you meant it.'

She didn't say anything in answer, she simply reached out, placed her hand over his shaft and sighed with anticipation. He closed his eyes, not quite believing what was happening, letting her rub him though his clothes briefly before feeling the vibration of his descending zip followed by her hand rummaging inside his pants. She found him, cool fingers wrapping themselves around his shaft, prising him out into the open, free of restrictive material where he could expand into a full hard-on. Denise groaned at the sight and stroked him slowly from tip to base, just gazing with her lips parted in anticipation. His eyes were like a rabbit's, darting all over, trying to see what she was doing and looking out of the window each side at the same time, part of him scared silly that someone would see and part wanting to let the world know that he'd finally got a classy woman to touch him.

'That's it, keep watch, Guy, please. I've never done anything in the back of a car before and I don't want us to be caught.'

'I will, I promise, but don't worry, nobody can see.'

'You know what I want to do, don't you? I've wanted to do it with you ever since we met.' She admitted.

He knew, she's already told him, unless she had something extra in mind. Before he had time to speculate any further she leaned over and her mouth closed around his cock. Now it was his turn to groan with pleasure.

He looked down at the top of Denise's head, seeing it begin to move up and down, and unexpectedly catching sight of a few silver hairs among her blonde ones. In a strange way he was pleased. He had imagined that she had her hair coloured, but here was proof that her blonde tresses were natural. Her age, her hair, neither of them mattered to him, he just loved having his cock in her mouth, feeling the soft strength of her lips close around him and the wet warmth of her tongue running around his head. He had nothing to compare with, but he was sure that this was the most wonderful blow job ever.

He wanted to just relax back and let her carry on until he exploded into her throat, but he was far too nervous for that and she had asked him to keep a lookout anyway. He kept looking around, twisting in his seat, almost pulling himself from her mouth, anxious and nervous, but oh so happy. The car park was quiet, almost deserted, he watched a group of people towards the far end carry parcels to their car and then a young couple pass across the front of Denise's car without so much as glancing in, all the while feeling Denise's tongue swirling around his cock. He was beginning to loosen up and just let this marvellous thing happen.

His cock, he realised, was as hard as it had ever been because of the situation. There he was, a lowly service engineer, sitting in the back of a magnificent car with its owner, a sophisticated and wealthy older woman, who seemed only too willing to risk her reputation and marriage to give him a blow job. That on its own would be enough of a turn on, but then she was also so bloody good at it, perhaps, he wondered mistakenly, because of having practised on her husband. He sighed as she moved position slightly to bring her hand into play, grasping him around his shaft, effectively wanking him into her mouth. God, but this was good.

She moved, trying to get comfortable, and this time knelt along the seat with her bottom raised and her head down in his lap instead of the half leaning, half twisting position she'd had to adopt while sitting beside him. It was a strange position for a woman such as Denise to be in, but if she was happy then so was he – very. He closed his eyes briefly as her mouth descended his shaft, taking more and more of him into the warmth of her mouth. He could feel the first initial stages of a climax already building.

He opened his eyes to see a teenager walking towards the car, and for a moment he considered warning Denise, but he didn't want her to stop, and anyway the youth had his hood up and an earphone wire trailing down into his front pocket, so Guy gambled that he wasn't taking much notice of his surroundings. Then Denise moved again, not much, just a kind of little backward shuffle, but her swaying floral clad bottom was enough to attract attention and the youth looked across, bursting into a wide grin as he saw what was happening.