Jill, the Milf
Then, things changed again. My job at the estate agents wasn't in selling of course. I put up and took down the For Sale boards, I went out to properties to take photographs and prepare floor plans, but had little contact with clients beyond that. One day I went out to measure up a house we had taken on. When I got there, I recognised the woman who was selling. She had a daughter who I had fucked once. I would have been happy to keep fucking her, but it was only a week or so before she went off to university, so never had the chance.
Her mother was probably in her mid 40s, conservatively dressed. When I arrived, she let me in and went back to her phone call. She was angry with whoever was on the other end. Suddenly she erupted, screaming abuse down the phone, then slamming it down and bursting into tears. I wasn't sure what to do, but couldn't ignore a woman in tears, so went to check she was OK.
"No, I'm not," she spat. "My useless husband decided, last year, that he wanted to trade me in for a younger model. It turned out he'd been shagging this woman at work for two years and she wanted him to move in with her. That's why I'm selling. I don't need a house this size on my own. When Penny comes home it won't be for long. Now he's apparently split up with her and wants to come back. Fat chance. Why do men of a certain age try to get their youth back by shagging younger women? Women don't do that, although, maybe we should."
She looked me up and down.
"I know you, don't I. You took Penny out once. You probably shagged her too, if the stories about you are right. Good for her."
I could hear her brain racing.
"I remember now. You were shagging Ann Wilson and her mother Judith, as well. I can't blame you. They are both hot stuff, although Judith has settled down now I hear."
There wasn't much I could say to that, so I said nothing.
She looked at me appraisingly.
"All the stories I hear about you suggest you are a bit of hot stuff yourself. You seem to have the knack of giving women a lot of pleasure."
She paused.
"I'm going to be blunt with you. I haven't had a decent shag in years. Even before he decided to move on to a younger model he wasn't very good at it. God knows what she sees in him. I know I don't compare in looks to Judith or Ann, but I'm still in good shape. How about a quick shag now?"
By now she had me pinned against the cupboards in the kitchen. To be honest I wasn't averse to the idea, but I had a schedule and it would be noticed if I was very late. I was also a bit nervous about fucking someone already so stressed out and perhaps not exercising her best judgment.
"Look, I don't think that would be a good idea at the moment. You are stressed out and I don't want to take the risk of you changing your mind halfway through."
She pulled back, her face crumpling.
"It's OK, you don't have to let me down gently. You don't fancy it with an old bag like me."
"No, that's not it. I just don't want to take the risk of being accused of rape or something if you were to change your mind. If you still think the same when you have cooled down, you can ring me at the agency."
After assuring her I meant what I said, she let me get on with my work. That didn't stop me checking her out when I got the chance. I could see she moved well, even elegantly. She seemed to have a good figure, although the loose fitting blouse she was wearing made that hard to tell. Her skirt though was tight across a nice, firm, backside.
Abby, the yummy mummy
If that wasn't enough, at another job the next day, I had the same problem. This woman, she told me to call her Abby, Mrs made her feel ancient, was not much older than me, perhaps mid-20s. She was pretty with huge breasts. I thought she'd had a boob job until I saw a tiny baby in a crib. She had obviously been crying with red-rimmed eyes. She carried on sobbing as I went round the house measuring up. I couldn't stand it in the end, and went to ask her if there was anything I could do.
Unfortunately that sent her over the edge and she completely broke down, sending her baby off too.
"She needs feeding," she said and without any warning she pulled up her shirt and put the baby to her breast. The child eventually stopped sucking and began to cry again.
"It's OK little one," she cooed, "just give me time to swap over."
With that she pulled out the other breast and the child contentedly settled down again.
I'd seen women breast feeding before, but usually they took pains to cover up. Abby just ignored me. At last the baby was content and fell asleep almost immediately she was put back in the crib. Unselfconsciously, Abby tucked her breasts away again and pulled down her shirt.
"Bill can't stand to watch me do that. He thinks it's gross. I think watching him chew his food with his mouth open when he slouches in front of the TV is gross, but he still does it. He thinks these are gross, too" and she hefted them in her hands. "Do you think so? I don't. I like having big tits for a change."
She was still holding them and despite myself, I was beginning to stir. I tried to divert her.
"Have you got a new house in mind Mrs, I mean Abby." Unfortunately that triggered another flood of tears.
"I'm moving back with Mum," she squalled. "The little shit says I've let myself go and he's found himself some scrawny bitch. I'm not fat am I?"
Seeing her so desperately unhappy, I put my arms around her and hugged her.
"No Abby, you are far from fat. He's a fool."
She snuggled deeper into my arms. She wasn't fat, but her ample boobs were pressing into me. By now my response was obvious. She looked up at me, smiling, her eyes still wet.
"I can see I don't repulse you. It's nice to be held. Bill's the one going to seed you know. He's got a beer belly already. He probably hasn't seen his own cock in years except in the mirror."
"You know it feels wonderful when I feed the baby. It's bordering on the erotic. I offered him a taste once. He acted as if I was giving him the contents of her nappy. He stopped fucking me once I started showing and he hasn't been near me since. You would like to taste them wouldn't you. I want you to."
That almost pushed me over the edge. I stepped back and held her shoulders.
"Abby. Stop and think. Of course I'm not repulsed by you. You are a beautiful sexy woman. But you are upset, your husband has dumped you with a tiny baby and you are moving back in with your mother. You don't want to do anything that might complicate your situation any more than it is. You don't want to give him ammunition, and I certainly don't want to be that ammunition."