Secret Weapon

Chapter 05 – Welcoming a Customer

Dear Reader: This story presents adult situations in graphic detail. It is not suitable for anyone under 18 years of age. The characters and situations in this story are entirely fictitious and any resemblance to actual people, places or events is coincidental.

Bachi was in the hallway of her flat, selecting a light classical music feed that she knew he would enjoy when the security system buzzed and his face appeared on the screen. "How unlike him," she thought as she pressed the ADMIT selection on the screen, "he's over two minutes late." Normally, Sir Geoffrey was obsessively punctual. She didn't mind - the extra time had given her a chance to relax for a moment. While her guest was in the lift, Bachi had time to fix his cocktail. She pulled the bottle from the freezer and poured two fingers of Bombay Sapphire gin into a tall glass. Next she deftly cut a thin slice from a fresh lemon and dropped it into the glass as she added tonic from the bottle she found on the door of the refrigerator. No ice - he preferred his gin and tonic without it.

Bachi was waiting at the door when he knocked. Swinging open the door, she welcomed the tall, distinguished looking gentleman in the classic bowler hat and the double breasted Burberry trench coat into the foyer and pushed the door closed behind him. Handing him his drink, she stretched up on her tiptoes to put her arms around his neck, disregarding the droplets of moisture that clung to his overcoat. With a cocktail in one hand and his walking stick in the other, Sir Geoffrey would have been unable to defend himself from the onslaught of her warm full lips, even if he'd have had a mind to.

"Good evening, darling," purred the seductively dressed young woman as she carefully eased herself back down onto her high heels and carefully pulled off his hat. Taking the walking stick with the heavy pewter handle from his hand, she slid it into the umbrella stand by the door as she hung his hat on the rack above. She turned back to see him take a sip from his drink before setting it down on the hall table and starting to unbutton his overcoat. Bachi slipped around behind him and caught his coat as he slipped it from his shoulders, revealing the finely tailored Seville Row suit he wore beneath. While she hung up the trench coat in the hall closet, Sir Geoffrey retrieved his cocktail and drifted into the sitting room.

Joining him there, she watched him take his second sip of the gin and tonic. As he perused the painting on the wall, Bachi relieved him of his drink and put it down on an end table. Two sips were all he usually took from his drink, so she didn't expect him to protest. Next, she unbuttoned his suit coat and pushed the lapels toward his shoulders, sliding it off him. He allowed her to take the jacket and hang it over one of the chairs around the dining table.

"Is this painting new?" he asked, as she returned and slipped back in front of him.

She pulled his deep blue silk necktie loose and slid it from around his neck, answering, "It certainly is. The gallery delivered it on Monday." She casually draped his tie around her own neck, letting either end partially conceal a breast while she unbuttoned the collar of his pastel blue dress shirt. Next she attacked the shirt's cuffs, unbuttoning each in turn and rolling each sleeve up twice. Satisfied, she pivoted around to face the painting, pulling his arms around her slender waist. The feel of his large soft hands on her damp bare midriff gave her a delightful tingle in her loins.

"I got your tummy all wet from my coat, dear," he said apologetically.

Laughing gaily, she whispered, "That's not all that you get wet, darling," and she tugged his arms tighter around her middle. He took the hint and leaned down to nuzzle the side of her neck just behind her ear.

"Remember the last time you were here you suggested that I take in the Andrew Meyer showing at the Unicorn Gallery?" she reminded him.

"Oh, yes. Is this one of his works?" he asked, abandoning her neck to look more closely at the painting.

"It most certainly is. I attended his showing and fell in love with this seascape as soon as I saw it. I just adore the way he used his brush strokes to accentuate the shadows."

They continued to discuss the artist's technique with Sir Geoffrey's chin resting atop her head and his hands gently stroking up and down her sides from her hips to the top of her ribcage. She retaliated by stretching her arms up behind his neck and subtly rotating her hips as she pressed her shapely bum back into the front of his pants. She could feel his body respond and took the opportunity to peer into the edges of his mind.

Sensing his desperate need, she allowed the conversation to falter and took the opportunity to release her hold on his neck and catch his hands in hers as they reached the apex of their travels. Pressing his thumbs to the upper edge of her flimsy top, she didn't need to encourage him further; he responded as she expected by slipping the digits under the fabric and easing it down, exposing her areolas and the stiff nipples in their centers. She, in turn, twisted her head around to sink her lips into the cleft where the back of his jaw overhung his neck as she reached her hand behind her to stroke his tumescence.

"Has it been a while?" she asked softly, already knowing the answer.

"Since I was here last," he replied breathlessly as he reverently ran his fingertips around her erect nipples, sending flashes of desire coursing through her belly. When Bachi twisted her other hand behind her and deftly unbuckled his belt, his graceful hands became more adventurous, cupping her firm mounds and squeezing lightly. Her fingers continued their quest, unfastening and unzipping his trousers behind her back entirely by feel.

"I suppose that I should be impressed by your fidelity, lover," she purred as she kissed him passionately over her shoulder. His hands became more animated; his thumbs and forefingers pinched and twisted her rock hard nipples as he kneaded her firm globes, eliciting quiet groans of pleasure from deep within her throat.

"Take off your shirt, darling," she requested, breaking off her kiss and giving him something else to do with his hands while she slowly slid her slender body down the front of his, taking his trousers with her. When her bum reached her heels, she pivoted around and quickly untied his shoes. Lifting one ankle at a time, she slipped off a highly polished shoe and a leg of his trousers. Slipping his necktie from her neck, she tucked it into his trousers on the floor. Stroking her hands back up his nylon clad legs, she could sense his desperate excitement and she noticed the sizeable bulge in his boxers twitch.

When her hands reached his hips, she gently tugged at the bottom of his boxers, pulling them down far enough that she could slip her fingers between the elastic waistband and the top of his pantyhose and slide the fine cotton underwear down over his cock. The boxers dropped to join the pile of clothing at his feet and he stepped out of them as he dropped his shirt onto the wing chair. She surreptitiously lifted the front hem of her skirt and tucked it into the waistband to keep it from collecting any of the nectar that was beginning to seep from her sex.

Bachi reverently grasped the base of his cock where his genitals protruded through the missing gusset of his pantyhose and slid the deep reddish purple crown side to side over her lips, coating them with his precum. Her other hand cupped his sack and carefully kneaded his balls. The young woman skillfully licked his juices off her lips as her tongue circled the engorged crown of his cock.

Feeling the tension of his imminent release, she tightened her grip around the base of his cock and slowly slid his cock into her warm wet mouth. Her talented lips and tongue teased his manhood with slow sensuous strokes and gentle suction while her big brown eyes carefully watched his facial expressions. Aware that their initial coupling was going to be brief, Bachi stoked her own need to a higher level. As she continued to pay homage to his cock, Sir Geoffrey gradually relaxed and she could tell from the look on his face that he had backed off from his desperate need to come immediately.

Sensing that the time was right, Bachi slid her body up and wrapped both arms around his neck, kissing him hungrily and mashing her breasts into his chest. She lifted herself out of her shoes and wrapped her nylon encased legs around his hips. Her hips rocked in a primal rhythm, rubbing her swollen labia up and down his erect shaft, coating it with her fragrant juices.

"On the sofa," was all she had to suggest for her partner to turn and carry her across the room. He lowered them both onto the large leather sofa along the wall and she spread her legs wide to accept him.

"Hard and fast, lover. I'm ready," she pleaded. His eyes burned with lust as he guided his cock between her sopping lips and slid it home with a single thrust. She threw her head back and groaned in ecstasy as he penetrated her core. The pace he set was as she had requested; his hands gripped her nylon clad hips and he began pounding into her with unrestrained urgency, the sounds of their bodies slamming together filling the room.

Pushing her hands against the arm of the sofa above her head, she pressed her lithe body back into his best attempts to drive her into the sofa cushions. The nylon that they both wore from the waist down allowed their limbs to slide smoothly over the others. Just minutes after his initial stroke, she felt his cock begin to swell and knew that his climax was near. Pushing her own release, her tender clit poked out of its protective hood. She wrapped her long legs around his hips and dug her heels into his bum, her muscular legs pulling his rod into her hot pussy, forcing her swollen clit into his pubic bone and urging him to even greater efforts.

As she watched his face contort into a grimace of pleasure, she released the orgasm that had been building steadily in her loins; her vaginal muscles clamped down upon the hot swollen cock that had driven her to the heights of bliss and her entire body dissolved into a mass of uncoordinated spasms. Waves of pleasure spread from her center to burst onto her extremities. Her heels dropped to the sofa cushion beneath his balls and her back arched, driving her shuddering hips upward into him.

He pressed himself into her one final time, trying to drive as deeply as possible before he loosed weeks of pent up need into her womb. Just as his climax crashed upon him, he felt her hot sheath gush and then squeeze him as if trying to milk every drop that his body had to offer. Her incoherent cries of delight gave him the extra energy to keep thrusting into her softness long after his seed was spent.

Finally, he collapsed into her arms, totally sated, and their sweat soaked bodies molded together. His lips found hers and tenderly tried to express his thanks for the joy that she had brought him. She, too, let her lips and tongue tell him just how wonderful she felt. No words were spoken nor were any needed. Even when he softened and slid out of her, they continued their silent expressions of gratitude.

Reality returned slowly, helped by the mouthwatering aroma of roast lamb that finally penetrated the musky scents of their lovemaking. Breaking off their passionate kisses to g1ance at the clock on the wall, she recalled Henrietta's instructions. The time was 7:10; she had fifteen minutes to clean up and get the bread in the oven. Taking her older lover's face tenderly in her hands, she pressed her puffy lips to his one more time and then announced, "I need to be in the kitchen, darling. Let me up and I'll get your robe and slippers." Ruefully, he acquiesced.

To be continued.