Her First Big Sale

"But, Wally. I've got to find a place by this weekend," I pleaded into my cell phone.

"I know, Kid. But I've got this closing this afternoon and I just can't make it."

I had agreed to take a promotion to a new job in Chicago and was excited at the prospect of moving into a new city and taking on greater responsibilities after many years of learning the ropes and letting my various bosses take all the credit for my hard work. The home office had arranged with a local realtor who was a nice enough guy, an older type in his 60's with a story and a line for every situation. Although Wally was amusing at first, I was getting tired of his glad-handing and stupid jokes and was frustrated at not finding the right house. We had made an appointment to view a batch of new listings but he had just called to let me know he had an important closing he had to attend.

"So, Wally, where does this leave us?"

"Gees, I don't know. Kid," he said slowly. "Wait a minute."

I listened as he set the phone down. It sounded like he was talking to someone down the hall.

"I'll tell you what," he said coming back on the line. "There's this new kid at the office who can probably take you around. Hang on a minute."

I could hear as he placed his hand over the mouthpiece and shouted back and forth with someone in the office.

"Hey, Kid. I'll tell you what. Chris is new here, but can show you this new batch. A real smart kid. I'll bet there's gotta be one in this batch that you'll like. Come on over at three like we planned and ask for Chris."

"Great! Thanks a lot, Wally."

I was relieved after hanging up, thinking at last maybe this would be someone who was closer to my own age and might be able to fill me in on the social scene and some of the other attractions my new city could offer. I was tired of staying in a hotel, living out of suitcase, eating room service.

I strolled into the office at three humming the tune to "My Kind Of Town" and asked for Chris.

"Just a moment and I'll page Chris for you," said the receptionist, eyeing me closely.

We had been raising the bar on our flirtation with each visit. A perky brunet with nice legs who seemed to prefer short skirts and thigh high stockings and enjoyed showing them off, she ran her finger through her silky dark hair where it had fallen across her brow and tucked it behind her ear. I noticed she was wearing golden hoop earrings that usually indicate availability.

"Chris will be right with you," she said with a smile, her low breathy voice drawing out each syllable.

"Thanks," I said, enjoying the view as she turned from the phone, her skirt rising up past the lacy stocking tops to show off a slice of nicely tanned thigh.

I spent a second or two trying to decide which line might serve as an opener to an invitation to drinks or dinner and had just about decided when I heard footsteps coming up the hallway. I looked up to see a prim young woman walking quickly into view.

"Mr. Wilson, I'm Chris Miller," she said nervously extending her hand with a thin artificial smile. "Wally asked me to show you some new listings."

I took her hand and smiled. Her hand was soft and warm to the touch and seemed to be shaking slightly. Her straight honey blond hair was pulled severely back and secured with an expensive looking clasp. The thin rims of her glasses framed her gray-blue eyes. She nervously rearranged the leather-bound folder she carried. At first glance she appeared plain and bookish although not unattractive. For some reason I kept thinking of a buddy's ex-girlfriend we used to call the ice queen.

"Nice to meet you," I said, noticing her smooth clear complexion and a lack of makeup, except for a hint of blush and lipstick. I tried to refrain from looking her up and down, but I'm sure my eyes gave me away. "I hope you've got my dream house in there."

"What?" she said puzzled for a moment, tugging at the jacket of her neatly pressed navy blue business suit, and looking me in the eye intently.

I pointed to her folder.

"Oh, yes," she smiled, showing off a shy, terrific smile. "The new listings. Yes, I've got them all in here."

As we walked to her car, a new Cadillac, she explained how she had just recently started working with this real estate office and was still feeling like the new kid on the block. I noticed as she slipped behind the wheel that my first impression may have been wrong, for I could see the outline of a nice trim hourglass figure curving underneath the stiff business suit.

"Nice car," I remarked running my hand along the supple leather trim.

"Daddy bought it for me as a consolation gift," she dryly said with a groan. "I'll tell you about it sometime. So just what kind of house are you looking for Mr. Wilson?"

"Jack," I insisted. "Call me Jack."

"Okay, Jack," she laughed, finally displaying a real smile.

I began to describe my situation. Single guy, never married, no kids, and nice income, looking for a good-sized place to settle into and see what happens. I began to get comfortable with her and let my glances toward her linger, taking in the honey blond hair, the small sparkling earrings on her delicate little ears, the smooth high cheekbones, the full moist lips, the pale pink flesh descending from her neck toward her bosom, chastely covered by her blouse and jacket. Then there were the long stockinged legs. I had always been a leg man and she had a well turned pair without a doubt. When she shifted slightly in her seat I could see a touch of stocking top extend below her hemline.

At a stoplight I made a comment about how I always took my time to find exactly what I was looking for and that this house was no exception. She looked over at me and our eyes met up and our glance bounced back and forth. There was a depth of feeling in her look, a bit of curiosity mixed with a bit of hurt and a touch of longing. The car behind us beeped the horn when the light changed.

There were seven houses to look at. The first two were forgettable. The third was okay. The fourth was too nice for my budget. By the time we were touring the fifth house Chris had started to relax. As I walked ahead of her up the stairs to see the master suite, I turned to ask her a question and thought I caught her checking out my ass. Now, I'm no body builder with rippling biceps and washboard abs but I do run and exercise to keep myself trim and was flattered at her glance. Of course, she quickly looked back to her listing form when she noticed my look and said something about the imported marble in the master bath.

Driving to next house I told her about my promotion and how I was looking to put down roots. She told me about life following her divorce the year before. I told her about my family being spread out all around the country. She told me about her family around Chicago and intimated that they were pretty well off. I told her how eager I was to take on my new position. She told me how she had tried not to use her father's good fortune to open doors. I remarked how I always enjoyed starting new assignments. She told me that she was looking forward to making her first big sale. I told her how I was looking forward to making new friends and professional relationships. She told me how she always had a hard time establishing relationships at work.

"The women never seem to like me and the men always like me too much," she remarked.

"I guess being a pretty woman has its downside," I replied sympathetically.

She looked over at me again and in her glance was the same searching look as before, so I smiled, not knowing what else to say.

By the time we rolled up to the last house on the lot, Chris had relaxed considerably, even unbuttoning the jacket of her suit to reveal a soft silky white blouse. She had even let out a laugh or two, not a girlish giggle, but a throaty, womanly laugh. The house itself was gorgeous with freshly painted trim with nice landscaping and an inviting front entrance. When Chris struggled with opening the door, I said, "Let me try," and reached to work the key in the lock. Our hands brushed and we caught ourselves looking into each other's eyes again.

The foyer was beautiful with ceramic tile and mahogany wainscoting leading to an inviting winding staircase. We looked through the downstairs that was laid out wonderfully. The house had been well taken care of and had some nice updates, especially in the kitchen.

"So what do you think of this one so far," she said as she lead me up the stairs to the second floor.

I found my gaze following the sway of her tight little ass as she climbed the stairs. There was a long slit up the back of her skirt that I hadn't noticed before that gave me a great view of her long legs and stockings.

"It looks just great from here," I mumbled.

We looked through the main bath and other bedrooms and came to a stop by the door of the master bedroom.

"Wow," I exclaimed when I took a look inside. "This is beautiful."

It was a large room with French doors that lead to a deck off the back of the house. I could see a large master bath and a cedar lined walk in closet. The room was decorated with antiques in an art modern style right from the pages of a late 30's House Beautiful magazine. The sleekly designed furnishings were rich mahogany and the accessories lush shades of burgundy.

"I love this style of decoration," she cooed as she let her hand glide over the silken bedspread.

"So do I," I replied. "I always thought that this was what the future would look like. It's like we stepped onto the set of a great old movie."

We stepped out onto the deck for a moment and took in a view of the large backyard.

"Let's see. The pool can go here and the tennis courts over there," I jokingly gestured.

She laughed again. "You have some big dreams, Mr. Wilson."

"You can't have big results without big dreams," I replied. "And besides, please stop calling me Mr. Wilson."

"Okay, Mr. Wilson."

"Jack."

We exchanged that look again, hers full of questions and hurt and longing, mine filled with understanding and compassion. No matter who had hurt her before, I thought of how I wanted to wash it away and satisfy the longing. When we went back inside I took a closer look at the nicely appointed master bath and huge walk-in closet. Walking back into the bedroom, I noticed that she had taken a seat on the foot of the bed, setting her folder and handbag off to the side. Letting out a deep sigh, she lay back onto the bed, raising her hands above her.

"I could imagine myself living here!" she exclaimed. "This is the kind of house I always wanted when I was married. But that never worked out."

I paused to look at her. As her head rolled to one side, our eyes met again. There was that look of pain and longing again. I could see the gentle curves of her body rolling up beneath the pressed fabric of her suit. She looked so appealing that I pictured this as my bedroom and her as my woman and couldn't understand why her ex didn't work things out.

"Some kind of fool," I mumbled.

"What?" she said, raising herself up to a seated position.

"Your ex must be some kind of fool to have let you go."

When I moved over to the bed she extended her hand and I took it to help her to her feet. We were barely inches apart when she stood, the light fragrance of her perfume teasing my senses.

"Whoa. This isn't too professional is it," she said as if to move away.

When we moved together in the same direction, our bodies touched, her breasts brushing against my chest, our hips dancing a mock tango.

"This isn't too professional either," I said, bringing my hand up to her cheek to tilt her face slightly, and bringing my lips close to hers.

Our lips lightly brushed. Her full lips were soft and wet and as they touched mine, I felt a warmth arise in my cheeks, on my neck and down my back. Our kiss became longer and harder as my arms slipped around her, our breath splashing over our faces. She brought her hands up onto my chest as if to push me away and then grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back to her. We parted slightly to take a deep breath.

"What are we doing?" she softly whispered.

"This," I said pulling her closer to me. "And more."

Her lips parted and our tongues flickered and danced a wet tango. She slipped her arms around my waist, pulling my hips closer to hers. As I moved my kisses from her lips to her cheek and then to her neck, she exhaled and took in a deep breath.

"This isn't right, is it?" she sighed.

"You feel all right to me, Chris," I whispered laying a path of small kisses along her neck and around to her ear.

"No, we can't do this," she said pushing me away and raising her hands to her head.

Then she looked back at me and nearly leapt forward to kiss me hard and deeply, her hands slipping around to the back of my head pulling me closer. As my arms encircled her again, she pushed me away.

"Stop this," she blurted out, her hands again covering her ears. "I mean I've got to stop this. I mean this is crazy!"

"Is this really that crazy?" I whispered, reaching out to her and pulling her into a longing embrace. "It's been a while since I've had this strong a feeling."

"It's been a long time for me too," she whispered back. "Such a long, long time."

My hands moved up under her suit jacket feeling her flesh quiver at my touch as I explored the silky fabric of her blouse. My hands moved up and around to her breasts, following the outline of her thin lacy bra. Her nipples tensed up as my eager fingers sought them out, teasing them to attention through the layers of silk and lace. Her hands began cupping my ass, her nails digging into my flesh, pulling me to her, pressing my stiffening hard-on onto her belly. As I began to unbutton her blouse, she moved back with a start.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"For one thing," I said continuing to the second button and the third. "I'm not thinking. I'm doing."

Her hands went to her suit jacket slipping it from her shoulders and letting it fall to the side of the bed. I opened her blouse and pulled the tail from the skirt of her suit. Her sheer lacy bra barely contained her firm round breasts. It was easy to move the soft lace away from her taut nipples, feeling them stiffen more with the direct touch of my fingers. She began to pull my golf shirt up from my slacks and over my head. She smiled as her hands caressed by chest and shoulders.

"Someone has be working out, I see," she cooed.

"Just keeping fit," I said turning her around to slip her blouse off her shoulders and set it by the suit jacket.

She just leaned back onto me, letting my hands rise up to her breasts again. Her sweet round ass rubbed up against me. Her hands slipped behind her and rubbed my stiffening cock as I again freed her breasts from the cups of her sheer little bra. The dresser mirror was angled so that I could see us pressing against each other, rubbing, touching, and feeling each other, the sight of which brought an increase to my erection.

"Oh, my," she moaned, slipping her hand through the open fly of my slacks. "Something seems to be happening down below."

As her hand rubbed my cock through the soft cloth of my boxers, I reached to the small of her back and began to unfasten and unzip her skirt. As I pulled it down past her hips and toward her knees, she brought her legs together so that it could fall lightly to the floor. As she stepped out from the skirt, she withdrew her hand from my slacks and turned back around to work on my belt. I took a step back to look at her. She was slender but not skinny, with nice round curves in all the right places. Her skin was clear and soft and white with a slight pink flushness from her rising sense of excitement. Her lacy white bra and matching panties were delicate and feminine, barely covering her breasts and pussy, the color of her skin showing through the thin sheer material. I reached up to her silken bra straps and slipped them down over her shoulders, bringing her breasts with their light pink nipples into fuller view.

She finished unfastening my belt and opened my slacks letting them fall to my ankles. I reached out to slip her glasses off her face and set them on the dresser. Her hand grazed across my cock that was threatening to burst through my boxers, caressing it, grasping it, pulling it to full erection. She turned me around so that I could sit back on the bed and pulled my boxers down.

"I hope I remember how to do this," she said with a sly smile. "I told you it's been a long time."

"Just like riding a bicycle," I replied as she crouched down and took my cock in both hands.

She lightly stroked me and slowly brought her mouth closer. She kissed the head with her warm wet lips, her lips then parting to let her tongue emerge. As she drew a circle around the head with her tongue, she lightly stroked the shaft with one hand as the other fondled my balls. I reached around to the back of her head and pulled her hair clasp loose letting her honey blond hair tumble down around and past her shoulders. She began to go down on me, taking in more with each stroke. I finger combed her silken hair back behind her ears over her shoulders as her strokes began to come harder and faster. She began to moan with each stroke, licking and sucking every inch she could.

"Oh, suck my cock! Just like that!" I moaned as her head moved up and down faster and harder.

She looked up at my face as she continued to bob up and down, her gray-blue eyes looking for the signs of pleasure spreading across my face. I reached down to her back and unfastened her bra and slipped it away. She pressed her breasts into my hands as she blew me, and I obliged by tweaking her taut erect nipples between my thumbs and forefingers.

"My, God!" she exclaimed, taking a long breath, yet mindful to keep stroking me with her hands. "You are so big!"

"And you say that to all the boys," I snickered.

"There was my husband and my college boyfriend and another guy or two," she said taking another swipe at my dick with her tongue from the base and up to and around the head. "And I remember seeing some big dicks at a nightclub during a batchelorette party, but you are really big!"

"Only because of what you are doing!" I exclaimed.

She spent several more minutes sucking and stroking me, her tongue and lips covering every inch, her firm round breasts pressing hard against my thighs. I placed my hand on her head and tried to lightly signal the best rhythm. Then when I began to feel that I was ready to explode, I raised her head up to look in her eyes.

"Now, let the visiting team step up to the plate," I suggested, helping her up and back onto the bed.

As I lay beside her to kiss her lips again, her hand found my stiff cock and stroked it gently. My hands caressed her breasts as a prelude to my kisses. I moved my mouth down from her lips to her neck and ear lobes to her shoulders and slowly down to her firm but pliant tits. Although she was on her back, her sweet pair stood firm and round with rosy aureoles and erect nipples inviting my kisses. I slowly moved down to lick and kiss them, savoring the taste of her smooth soft flesh, drawing circles around each nipple, so slowly that she reached down to move her breast into my mouth. As I spent my time on each one, she began to arch her back to press her breasts into my mouth and began to move her hips slowly in a circular motion.

As I tenderly sucked one breast and then the next, I let one hand drift down to her pussy, slipping over the thin lacy fabric of her panties, feeling the moist lips beg for my touch. She spread her legs to let me slip my fingers fully over her pussy, letting me lightly rub my fingers back and forth over her moist sex. Her breath came more heavily as her hips thrust her twat up against my touch almost pushing my fingers through the crotch of her panties into her pussy. Her hands came down to pull her panties off.