The Estate

It had been a while since I had seen her, I opened the door when it knocked, and Margaret stood there.

"Hello stranger", I greeted her, "How are you? Do you want to come in?"

"Yes please," she said, "and I am fine."

She came in and shut the door behind her, following me into the kitchen. "Coffee?" I asked.

"Yes please. Our Lord has spoken to me. He is pleased that I have taken my life back but is displeased that I have not shown the right gratitude."

I mean, come on. I am sure that she has a screw loose. I am neither a believer nor disbeliever, but I have honestly never encountered someone who has actual conversations with God. "Oh, well, I am sure God will get over it." I was trying very hard to not be obviously flippant.

She took the coffee from me and sat at the kitchen table. "I am sure he will," she said, "but will you?"

"What do you mean? I am totally fine." Well, I was. I was getting my satisfaction in a number of ways from a number of sources, some of which, to the straight laced Margaret's of this world, will seem like the very worst of behaviour. Tough.

"You showed me the true pleasures of my body. You let me see that my husband was not behaving as a husband should."

'Do I behave as a husband should?' I wondered, 'I doubt it' I answered myself quietly.

"Speaking of your husband," I interrupted, "what is happening with him?"

"It is all sorted. Separation papers have been served with a letter explaining the reasons and naming his lady friend. The letter goes on to say that if he contests, then papers will also be served on his lady friend. Also, as he lived in my mother's house and did not pay rent, that my mother would, should he wish to contest, be seeking back rent from him for the time he was there."

"Hard ball, I didn't know that you could do that."

"I have just done what my solicitor has advised. Also, my mother wants to transfer the house into my name now that my husband is gone. She never liked him really, so the house was always in her name. I think it would go into trust if she died, unless I was single, in which case it would come to me."

"I think if she transfers it to you early enough before her death you would save on death duties." I was pretty sure I had read that somewhere, more than ten years prior, but I couldn't be positive."

"Anyway, that is not why I am here."

"Okay, not just a social visit then?" I asked, my smile firmly hidden.

"Our Lord is not happy that I have not shown the proper gratitude to you, you deserve more and Our Lord is keen that you return to him. Our church council prayer group has a circle focussing on you. We are praying for your protection."

Okay then. Woof woof. "Protection? From what Margaret? I am fine."

"Your soul may be under attack. You have fornicated outside the sanctity of your marriage. Even though you and your wife do not couple, you must remain true to her and by not doing so, your soul is weakened and could be open to the evil of hell."

If she knew even the half of it she would have every church in the world praying. "Margaret, it is fine, I was drawn simply to save you, it was you that was at risk, at risk of harm from your husband, I am fine, you and your church friends do not need to worry about me. And what would those Church friends think if they knew about us? I presume that they don't."

"They do not know. I have lied by omission, and I have atoned before Our Lord for that. I must save your soul."

"Margaret, my soul is fine. However my carnal desires grow stronger in your presence." Well, why not try and take advantage?

"You should control those desires, that is your soul weakening under the psychic attack."

"No Margaret it is my desire to take you to my bedroom, to see you naked and to kiss your secret places, to receive the gratitude Your Lord guided you into pleasuring me with."

"We shouldn't, your soul..."

"My soul is fine Margaret." I stood and took her hand, raising her to her feet, "my body on the other hand needs to know you once more. That knowledge of you helps me build protection walls around my soul. That is the way He has spoken." I led her through the kitchen and up to my bedroom.

In the bedroom I turned her to me, took her head in my hands, dipped and kissed her, gently at first and then more passionately. At first she was a little resistant, and then my kisses were returned with warmth and passion. She held my hard cock through my trousers.

I undid the buttons of her blouse and pulled it open. Her bra choice was still the plain functional white device. I slipped the blouse off her shoulders and over her arms, dropping it to the floor before unfastening her bra and letting it join her blouse. The button and zip on her skirt were next, and that too puddled on the floor. Fingers in their waistband I pushed her panties down, dropping to my knees to get them completely down, she stepped out of each panty leg, and then she was naked, my nose inches from her neat garden.

I licked her. From the bottom of her sex to the top.

"mmmm" was her response. I kissed again, this time my tongue slightly protruding in between the lips of her sex. She was wet and ready, interesting. Is this what she really came for? All this God mumbo jumbo was just to find an excuse to get fucked? I moved up and down her slit, my tongue pressing in a little more each time until my tongue was sliding across her sex floor, her fanny lips pushed wide apart. Her knees were crooked apart, her legs bent. "Lay on the bed, you'll be more comfortable." I said as I gently pushed her back.

"I shouldn't, I really shouldn't, but..."

"Hush now. You should, you really should." I slipped out of my chinos and t-shirt and joined her on the bed. I nibbled her left nipple as I slid 2 fingers into her, bending and straightening them.

"Oh" she gasped as I started to fuck her with my fingers. I removed my fingers, lay on her and pressed my cock where my fingers had been. Slowly I entered her, pushing in until I was fully inside her.

"Oh My Lord" as I began to slowly withdraw, "Oh, yes" and then a long groan as I pushed back into her, her lips forced apart as my cock filled her. I began my fuck a little faster and a little harder, ensuring I could feel the bottom of her fanny on my cock, my cockhead pushing into her womb, my belly slapping on to hers as we fucked.

She was gurgling as I fucked, strange mumbles and burbles, all incomprehensible, her fingers scrabbling at my back as I pressed her body further into my bed, unrelenting as fucked without pause. I felt my groin tighten, my balls compressed and as I roared I filled her with mu cum. Two, then three slow but deep presses and my balls were empty.

Margaret was making noises between her gasps of air. Her hands now flapping ineffectively at my back, and as I slipped out of her and rolled onto my back she let out a big sigh. "Oh Jase."

I looked across at her, her face was red, her chest flushed between her breasts, her fanny was pulsing and her fingers opening and closing. I leant down and just made the lightest touch on her clitoris and she arched off the bed, "aarrrgghhhhhhhhh" she screamed as her orgasm hit.

"I am so angry" she said when her composure had been restored.

"Why?"

"Because my husband could have been doing this all these years and he didn't and so I lost out, I missed out on the pleasures Our Lord gave us. I am just so annoyed with him. I wonder if he does that with his girlfriend?"

"I expect if she was used to it before she took up with him, then, yes, she would expect him to. I wonder why, when he found out what pleasure could be had, why he did not do it with you? It is so much better when you both enjoy."

"Perhaps he was I afraid I would ask him how he knew of these pleasures."

"Maybe."

"Anyway, he is living with her now."

"Ha ha, I bet that is fun, I bet she never expected that."

"She is welcome to him. I don't care."

Mrs D wanted a word. Mrs D is our cleaner, she pops in on a Monday and Thursday mornings each week for 2 hours each time, changes the bed, puts the bedding in the washing machine, vacuums, dusts, cleans the kitchen and empties and reloads the dishwasher as required. Just general cleaning stuff. Her name is Helena something unpronounceable beginning with DZ, Polish I think, so we simply call her Mrs D.

"Jason," she always called me Jason, never Jase or by my surname, always 'Jason', "my rent has gone up. I am finding it difficult to pay."

Mrs D is thirty something, scrawny, looks like a big meal would kill her and a gust of wind would have her away over the hills. Her voice, however, has an Eastern European accent, has a tone that sounds as if it is coated in velvet, and is soft to the ear. "Yes Mrs D, everything is going up in cost, inflation is just ridiculous at the moment. All our costs are going up, yet our income remains the same."

"Jason, I have to have more money from you, I have to put up my costs."

"Mrs D, I sympathise, I do, but we have a contract, eleven pounds an hour for your services, paid in cash weekly in arrears on Fridays. And that contract has another nine months to run and then is due to go up, as agreed, by the rate of inflation. The only option I can see is to mutually agree to cancel the contract and let you find another client that can pay you more. I am in the same position myself, and I cannot go to my clients and put up my rate. I can only renegotiate at contract renewal."

The truth is that we don't really need a cleaner and so I am not keen on paying anymore. We have a cleaner because we can and she makes things a little easier two days a week. We could just as easily do it ourselves, and buy a robot vacuum for the vacuuming that Mrs D does.

"Jason, it is difficult for me. I cannot afford to lose your contract. Could I possibly have more hours?"

"Mrs D, the house is not big enough for more hours, you already do a very good job on the two days that you are here, I do not see what else you could do if we were to give you more hours, I am sorry."

She looked at me and seemed to be unsure of what to do. I wondered if she was going to cut her losses and cancel the contract. "Perhaps," she said, "there are other things I could do for you?"

I had no idea what she was thinking off. The lawn is Astro turf and needs minimal maintenance, we don't have flower or shrub borders, I suppose she could wash the car, but I tend to go through the drive-through car wash, and that is a lot cheaper than an hour of her time.

"I was thinking perhaps I could offer a more," she paused, looked me in the eye and then her eyes looked up to the ceiling, "a more personal service, for just you."

My mind goes into boggle mode. I don't think she could be suggesting what my brain is thinking.

"Oh? What do you have in mind?" She can spell it out, I am not going to make any assumptions.

She stood hands on hips, chest thrust forward and looked directly at my eyes then looked down to my crotch. "Before I change the bed on Mondays, perhaps I could help you, in the bed I mean."

Okay then, she was offering me her body in some way. "Help me how?"

"I could, perhaps offer you my hand."

"Well I can do that myself, and that would not take an hour."

"What do you mean, an hour Jason?"

"Well, if we did come to some agreement for you to help me, personally, and you wanted paying for that time, then the only way I could do that legally would be to employ you for a further hour of your services, so Mondays and Thursday would be three hours of your time, with one hour of each day up in the bedroom."

"Why legally?"

"Are you offering to help me sexually? It would not be legal for me to pay you for sexual services."

"Oh, I did not know that was illegal." Neither did I, but well, it was worth a shot. "What are you suggesting to me?"

"If I pay you for an extra hour each day, that extra hour is spent with you, as you put it, helping me, in the bedroom, and we will simply think of it as more household services."

"But an hour with my hand seems, well, I don't think that would work."

"I have already said that I can use my own hand. That would not be an attractive option."

"Would you want me to use my mouth, is that what you want? I had really only thought of my hand."

"Mrs D, your mouth, whilst more attractive an offer than your hand would not really be worth an hour of time. It would require a lot more than that."

"You want me to lay with you, is that it? That is what you want? You want to take advantage of my position and use me, my body, is that it?" I was pretty sure that she was trying to sound outraged, but, when she first made her offer, she must have been prepared to offer everything, she was just starting from an easy bargaining position.

"Mrs D. In truth I do not actually have need of your services. I am well accommodated in that area." Hard ball time. I had nothing to lose. I had never actually thought of bedding her before, and no, well it was not an unattractive possibility, but I do not do too badly in that department, so I had no need to clutch at her straws. "It is your choice as to what services you wish to offer and whether they are to my liking and worth me retaining you for an extra hour each time."

"Oh." She knew that she was out-manoeuvred.

"We could have trial session today if you wanted?" I wondered what her response would be.

"Would you pay for my time?" God she was desperate really. She was basically selling the only thing that she could sell, her time, her services, her body.

"I would pay you an extra hour today and then we would see if that is something that we wanted, to book an extra hour of your time when you come."

"I see. I really do not think I have an option; I have bills that I must pay. I suppose therefore that is alright, I could do that. Do you want to do that now?"

"Yes. Now. Then I can get on with my work, and you can get on with your usual duties here."

She went up and went into the bedroom. It didn't matter the state of the bedroom, Mrs D will have been in as part of her cleaning, and so her smell, her odour would be in the room anyway. Regardless of what she and I did. In the room she took her cleaning apron off, pulled her thin jumper off and then undid and removed her slacks, standing in matching bra and panties. Matching? I think she had expected that she would end up in my bed today.

I took my T-shirt and chinos off and stood, like her, in my underwear. She put her hands behind her back and undid and removed her bra and then slipped her knickers down. I dropped my pants and lay on the bed, my erection firming as I watched her. Her boobs were quite small, little more than an A cup, her nipples were really quite large in comparison, almost a pair of wine corks. Her sex was not pronounced, her slit was almost just a small dent in her crotch with no visible inner lips. There was a small well-trimmed garden above, but no hair on or by the sides of her sex at all.

She looked at my erection and then joined me on the bed, kneeling at my midsection. She took my cock in her hand and started a slow wank. I was interested to see how she was going to proceed and what ideas she had. I expected that she would try to make me cum as quickly as possible. I had other ideas, I intended to have her in my bed for the full hour.

I took her hand off my cock, "really, I can do that myself you know." She bent down and took my cock into her mouth and began a mouth wank. It was, of course, better than a hand job, and then she brought her hand into play too. Yes!

She slowly pulled my skin down until my cockhead was fully revealed and ran her tongue around my piss hole, dibbing in and sucking. The feeling as she ran her rough tongue on the underside of my rim was intense. I lay back and tried to focus on a hairline crack in the ceiling, cracked as the house dried and settled from its newness. I was desperately trying to get my focus away from my groin which was under an assault from an expert technician.

She may have a small body, small boobs and a paper thin slit, but my God she knows how to work a man. She slowly released my cock form her mouth and, turning around to face my feet, she straddled me and, using her hand as a guide, she entered my cock into her fanny, slowly settling her body down until I was engulfed.

Looking down I could see her fanny grossly engorged and stretched around my cock, her hitherto hidden inner lips now wrapped around me like a caress. Helena slowly moved forward and then back again, slow fucking me, her lips stretching and spreading around my cock as she enveloped it. She moved slowly, no rush for her, she knew the effect it had. The unusual angle of the fuck had my hard cock pressed upwards, adding a pressure to my shaft. My eyes had the visuals of her fanny caressing me as she moved along me, and the sight of her crinkle as it pulsed.

This was almost certainly one of the best fucks I have ever had, the sensations more intense, the feelings deeper and the visuals the most erotic. She began to increase her pace, still not fast, none of the usual slap-slap of generic fucking, this was sensual and encompassing. I knew I would not last much longer, and no matter how much I concentrated on rolling hills and grazing sheep, I felt my balls tighten and my climax approach.

I began to pulse and I knew that the point of no return had gone, there was no avoiding the moment, no prolonging the pleasure. I bellowed as I climaxed, my balls ejecting my cum, my cock jabbing and shooting as I filled her fanny. Helena pressed back and sat up as my thrusting cock began to soften. Her buttocks pressing down on me held my cock inside her as I gasped and recovered from the moment.

She raised herself and my cock slipped out of her followed by a stream of my ejaculate, like white wall paint it dripped and coated my cock and balls. "Oh dear," Helena said as she saw my residue. She raised herself and knelt by my side, leant down and washed my cock and balls with her tongue, sucking me clean before sitting up and licking her lips. "How was that?" She asked, "Am I up to the standard that you require for the extra service time?"

I looked at my watch, we had been half an hour, it felt much less than that. "We still have thirty minutes of your time available Helena," I said, not answering her question.

"That is no problem. If you go and run the shower, I shall join you in there and wash your back and ensure that you re thoroughly clean before the hour is up."

"That seems acceptable" I said, not giving anything away, I didn't want to let her know that she was amongst the best fucks I had ever had.

I was on the drive, sat on a small stool, cleaning the inside of the bumper on my car, well, I always think that it pays to clean parts that you can't see as well as parts that you can. I was reminiscing about Lena and what a great fuck she was, and an onion rolled past my feet.

My reminiscing had naturally given me a hard on, and as I bent to grab the onion I squashed my cock in my shorts, "fuck, ow," I exclaimed.

"Oh, I am sorry, I wasn't aware that onions could do vicinity harm."

I turned to look at the owner of the voice. She was late thirties, early forties, about a size fourteen, maybe twelve, you can't tell these days. Jools is a ten is some shops and a fourteen in others, designer clothes are the worst, we just assume they are always actually two sizes smaller than they say.

"Well, it is not every day that an onion rolls past a chap when he is polishing his bumper." I picked the onion up and stood ready to pass it to her.

"And presumably not a euphemism," she laughed as she looked directly at the bulge in my shorts.

"Ah, well, now," I answered, "some euphemisms benefit from a coincidence in timing."

"Do they now, well, I have learned something."