The Girl From Coogee

I met Wendy very much by accident.

As general manager of a building company, that also had a floorcovering discount retail business attached, I was kept very busy. One morning I was walking through the carpet sales office when I heard one of the sales phones ringing. With nobody around to answer it, they were all busy, I grabbed the call.

A lilting voice, enquired about carpet for her daughter's bedroom. Cutting a long story short, after a some minutes talk about her 9 year old daughters likes & dislikes, I convinced her of a particular carpet, parting with the words, "if you don't like it when it turns up at your place, just tell the carpet layer and he'll bring it back with no charge to you."

This was quite a bold statement as this lady lived at Coogee, in the eastern suburbs of Sydney, a beachside address and our business was in the western suburbs. Ah, what the hell I thought, she had a lovely voice and I was the boss.

I never thought anymore about it until a few weeks later when one of the floor sales guys came into my office.

"Hey boss, there's a good looking chick in the showroom asking after you."

I wandered down into the showroom and approached the "good looking chick".

The sales guy wasn't wrong!

She looked about mid twenties, five feet four or so, dark shoulder length hair, and being summer, she was wearing a yellow halter neck sun dress, which accentuated the swell of her breasts, pulled in at her narrow waist with a belt and flared out over her hips, stopping a few inches above the knee. Tanned legs and high heels completed the picture.

She was a stunner!

"Hi, can I help you?" I asked.

"Are you Rob?" she asked with a lilting, almost musical, voice.

It still didn't twig with me as I answered, "Yeah, how can I help you?"

'I just wanted to meet the man who could sell me carpet, sight unseen, over the phone and have it perfectly right. I'm Wendy, Wendy Richards from Coogee. You sold me some carpet for my daughter's bedroom."

"Oh I remember, you're the lady with the nine year old daughter. Hey, if you don't mind me saying so, you don't look anyway old enough to have a nine year old."

"I see the charm doesn't stop with the sales pitch," she smiled, "but thank you for the compliment, and trust me I am old enough to have a nine year old. Are you busy? Would you have time for a cup of coffee?"

"I am too much of a gentleman to say no to such a lovely lady, especially one who has travelled all the way from Coogee," I replied, and who looks as good as you I thought to myself.

I led her out to the main street, past some of my sales staff, who all had smirks on their faces, to a great coffee shop not far from my office.

After our coffees arrived I asked, "Did you really come all this way just to meet me."

"Yes, and to see what you looked like, you sounded so nice over the phone."

"Ah well, see voices can be deceiving."

"On the contrary," she answered, "sometimes they don't do their owners justice."

Where is this going, I thought to myself. Only one way to find out, direct action!

"I think we could discuss this theory of yours at length, why don't we do it over dinner, one night?"

"I'd like that. Ring me tomorrow, I'm not sure what my shifts are at work and I'll check my roster tomorrow."

I looked at her quizzically.

"Oh sorry, I'm a waitress at (and she named one of Sydney's top restaurants) and I don't get my shifts 'til tomorrow.

We chatted on over our coffees and agreed to make contact the next day. As she left she leaned over to me and kissed me lightly on the lips, "this has been way better than I'd hoped," she whispered, and walked off.

I couldn't wait to make the call the next day.

"Hi Wendy, it's Rob, calling with great anticipation."

I could hear the laughter in her voice.

"I wasn't sure you'd ring," she said, "I was a teeny bit forward yesterday."

Before I could say anything she went on.

"I used to be a back seat girl," (a mental picture of her naked in the back seat of my car leapt into my mind) I mean, I didn't speak out for myself, I just went with the flow but I found out by doing this I missed out on many opportunities. So nowadays I just speak my mind, so I'm really glad you rang."

"So am I," I said, and I meant it, "so how about that dinner."

"Friday's fine for me," she replied, "if that's OK with you?"

"Friday's perfect. I have a favourite restaurant in Surry Hills I'd like to take you to, so what say I pick you up about 7?"

"That'd be great; I'll look forward to seeing you then. Oh, and Rob," she paused.

"Yes," I asked.

"I promise you, it'll be a good night," she said softly, "Bye," and hung up.

I couldn't get up from my desk for a few minutes. I had a raging bloody hard on!

Friday night couldn't come quick enough!

I pulled up outside Wendy's, Coogee flat right on 7. It was one of the older style block of flats, probably built prior to world war 11, when there weren't so many cars around. These flats definitely lacked garaging and I was lucky to get a park outside.

She answered the door in a white silk kimono which, she was clearly oblivious to the fact, was quite transparent with the hall light behind her. Or maybe she wasn't.

"Oh I love a man who's punctual," leaning forward to kiss me lightly. "Come in and I'll get you a drink while I finish getting ready," as she took my hand and led me inside.

"Here's the lounge, the TV's on the news I think. Make yourself comfortable, is a beer ok or would you prefer a scotch or something?"

"No, a beer's fine."

I sat on the lounge and she appeared seconds later with a cold beer.

"I promise I won't be long," as she handed me the beer and disappeared down the hall.

The flat looked comfortable enough, well furnished, from what I could see, with older style furniture that complimented the era of the building.

"Oh bugger," I heard Wendy say from down the hall. "Rob could you come here for a minute please."

I exited the chair and went looking for Wendy. Just down the hall I glanced in the first doorway and saw her standing in front of a full length mirror. She was wearing a tight fitting gunmetal coloured dress, with thin shoulder straps, and that clung to her lithe body, accentuating her every curve, all the way down to the hem which finished a few inches above her knees. Black stockings and stilettos completed the picture.

She looked sensational!

"You called?" I asked.

"Can you see my panty line through the dress?" she asked.

Looking at her hips and buttocks I could see a faint trace of panty line.

"Oh yeah, but only slightly," I acknowledged.

"Oh bugger, I knew it!" she responded with annoyance.

With that she walked to a chest of drawers, pulled a tiny G string out of a drawer, bent over and grabbed the hem of the dress and pulled it up around her waist. With her back to me she slipped the panties down, exposing her beautiful bum, kicked the knickers away, and then bent over and stepped into the G string, pulling it up around her waist. She smoothed the hemline back down and turned around to face me.

"How does it look now?" she asked.

I tried to hide my growing erection. Closing my mouth, from where my chin was hanging on my chest, I just shook my head dumbly. "You can still just see a slight line," I mumbled.

"Oh stuff it!" she said still annoyed.

Again she lifted the hem of the dress and pulled the G string down, exposing her neatly trimmed bush, and smoothed the hem back down again. She spun around and faced the full length mirror again.

"Oh no! Now you can see my pubes outlined. Look!"

The way the dress clung to her you could faintly see her pubic mound but it was accentuated by her bush.

Now I was having a problem trying to hide my erection!

"Maybe you should wear something else, if it worries you," I suggested cautiously.

"No bloody way, I bought this dress especially for tonight and I'm damn well gonna wear it!"

She turned abruptly toward me.

"Go and finish your beer, I'll be a couple more minutes."

I went back to the lounge room, willing my erection down, and sure enough she walked in a few minutes later. The dress still clung to her every curve but no trace of a panty line or protruding bush.

"Hey, there you are," I said, "you should have put those panties on in the first place; there's no trace of a panty line now."

"I haven't got any on. I just shaved my pussy. Now let's go, I'm starving."

With that jaw dropping statement, we made our way to the front door.

This girl was full of surprises!

I love old style, big American cars, we used to call them "Yank Tanks" in Australia years ago, and I collect a few, as funds allow. Tonight I had a 1972 Ford LTD, a big black one with red leather upholstery.

I led Wendy to the car and opened the door. She was suitably impressed.

"Wow," she exclaimed as she slid in onto the big front bench seat "this is awesome. I've only seen cars like this in the movies. Where did you get it?"

I went around to the driver's side and slid in behind the wheel before I answered.

"It was actually a mourning coach for a funeral company," I answered, which was the truth "and they'd had it in their garage, unused for a few years, and I bought it and restored it, to its former glory."

"It's fantastic, but you're so far away over there," she said pouting disappointedly.

"Well, slide across, there's another seat belt in the middle, so you can get closer."

"Oh, I want to get closer all right. You'll see just how close by the end of the night," she smiled.

Oh, oh, that erection was coming back!

She slid across the seat and snuggled into me as I pulled the car away from the curb. We made small talk, with me trying to steer the conversation away from sex, just in case my cock burst out of my pants. It's not as though I don't like talking about sex with a beautiful woman but I do like to concentrate on driving, just so I don't kill us!

I drove to my favourite restaurant in the city, Mon Jardin at Surry Hills, and parked within a block of the restaurant, not bad for a Friday night. I walked around and opened the car door for Wendy to alight. As she slid across the seat her skirt slid up around mid thigh, and as she parted her legs to step out, I got a good glimpse of naked pussy.

She smiled up at me as I held my hand out for her, "Like what you saw," she asked innocently.

Stuck for words I think I mumbled something like "lovely legs" or something equally as stupid.

She smiled, with a devilish sort of a look, tucked her arm through mine and we walked off to the restaurant.

This was going to be some night!!

Bill, the maitre de, greeted me with his usual enthusiasm (and discretion).

"Mr Collins, so lovely to see you again sir, would you like a table near the garden?"

Bill knows I like the garden tables. There are only a few of them, it's in a darkened area of the restaurant and he usually makes sure there's nobody else close.

"That'd be fine thanks Bill," I answered.

He led us out to the table where the garden is beautifully, but discreetly lit, behind a glass wall. He seated us, took our drinks order then silently slipped away.

"Hmmm, well known to the waiter, I see," Wendy smiled with a sort of knowing look.

"He's not the waiter, he's the owner and yes I try to come here whenever I'm in the city. The food is excellent, the service impeccable and the ambiance of the place, I feel, is sensational. Also I quite often bring clients here, they usually leave impressed"

But I don't bring them at night and I certainly don't seat them near the garden, I thought.

"And he's obviously very discrete," she smiled.

"I don't know what you mean," I smiled back, feigning innocence.

"I'll bet you don't!" she smirked.

I was saved from answering by the arrival of our drinks.

She sipped her Bloody Mary and I took a swig of my Jack Daniels.

"Are you married?" she asked me bluntly.

"Yes and no," I replied cautiously.

She raised one eyebrow quizzically.

"I am separated but still legally married. It's a complicated issue, neither one of us seems to want a divorce but we can't live together either, we fight like cat and dog, and it's not fair on the kids."

"How old are the kids?" she quizzed.

"My son, he's the eldest, is 16, my eldest daughter's 14 and the youngest is 10. She's the one that really misses daddy. The other two feel they can ring and talk to me anytime but the youngest misses' daddy just being there. It hurts not being with them but it's better than the continual fighting."

"Do you still love your wife?" she kept quizzing.

"What is this, the bloody third degree?" I was beginning to get a little annoyed.

She smiled, "I just wanted to know a little more about you, the person, what makes you tick."

"Are you more well informed now?" I asked a little sarcastically.

She gave that same slight smile again, raising one eyebrow again. "I know you're still in love with your wife."

"I don't deny that, never have done. I just can't live with the bitch!"

"Was the sex good?"

"Christ, you never give up, do you? Yes she was a great root, probably still is. It was the first thing that attracted me to her. Actually that's not quite right, it was her body that first attracted me. At eighteen she had a drop dead gorgeous body, the sort you just wanted to grab and fuck and it took me 'til the third date before we actually fucked and then after that we fucked at every opportunity. There, you happy now?" I almost snarled it.

"Did you want to fuck me, the first time you saw me?" that one eyebrow was raised again.

Here goes nothing I thought. This could backfire!

"Yes," I answered emphatically. "The moment I saw you in the showroom, you looked sensational, I imagined what it would be like to screw you."

"Good." She said simply.

Before I could ascertain just what she meant by that one word, Bill arrived to take our dinner order.

"What do you mean good?" I asked as soon as he was out of earshot. Now I was the one asking the questions.

"I'd have hated it to have been one-sided," she answered, "I wanted to screw you, without even seeing you, the moment you sold me carpet over the phone. I was actually wet after talking to you for the 10 or so minutes we spoke. That's why I wanted to come and meet you face to face and I was wet after that meeting too. And I'm wet now, very wet," she looked directly into my eyes.

I thought my cock was going to burst out of my pants. I was as hard as a rock.

"Come around here and feel, if you don't believe me."

What I couldn't believe, was she was asking me to come and feel her wet cunt,

in the restaurant!

"Well do you want to feel, or not?" she asked quizzically, the one eyebrow raised again.

I stood up, trying to hide my erection, but not succeeding.

"Oh goody!" she exclaimed, looking directly at my erection straining at my slacks, "it's obviously very not one sided."

I made my way around to her side of the table; she took my hand and drew it up under her dress placing it directly on her pussy.

She was right! She was sopping wet!

Still holding my hand on her wet cunt, she looked up at me, "I want you! I want you now!"

I bent down and kissed her deeply, our tongues dancing around each other, my fingers slipping deep into her wetness. She squirmed and thrust her cunt hard onto my fingers, gasping as I slipped them in & out of her, my thumb working over her clit. She gave a little shudder, and I felt her cunt spasm on my fingers as she orgasmed, her juices flooding my fingers.

She smiled up at me, my fingers still buried in her cunt.

"Oh god, that was quick. I guess that'll have to do until we get back to my place," she whispered, a little breathlessly.

I kissed her again as I withdrew my hand from under her dress, my fingers covered in her juices.

Looking her directly in the eyes, I licked my fingers clean.

She gave a little mewing sound as she sucked in her breath.

"Oh god, don't do that or I will fuck you here and now!" she breathed.

We were interrupted by a discreet cough as our waiter approached with our entrées.

The food and wine were great as usual but totally forgettable. You could feel the sexual tension in the air. I don't think either of us could wait to get back to her flat!

The walk back to the car was punctuated by stops for kissing and groping each other. I had a hard on I thought was going to bust out of my pants, leaking pre-cum. She had a very visible wet patch on the back of her dress where she'd orgasmed in the restaurant.

It didn't seem to bother her.

"Do you think I'm the first woman to walk down a Sydney street with a wet cum patch on her skirt? I don't think so, nor am I likely to be the last!" she scoffed.

I couldn't argue. I just wanted her!

Once we were in the car she was at my trousers like a mad woman, undoing my belt and tugging at my zip. She freed my straining, dribbling member slipping her soft hand around it, gently stroking it.

"Oh good, you're circumcised, I love sucking a circumcised cock."

With that she quickly lowered her head, her tongue licking at my pre cum.

"Wendy, I don't think you'd better do that. One, because if you suck it I'll probably blow immediately and two, we're parked directly under a street light."

She looked up at me, her face only inches from my cock.

"Well, make sure the doors are locked," she said simply and turned back and slipped her mouth over my cock.

The feeling was sensational! My ex wife was one of the best cock suckers I've ever come across, or in for that matter, she could deep throat with the best of them. I hadn't come across anyone that could suck cock like she could, until now!

She had my cock buried down her throat with the second movement. One hand was massaging my balls and her other hand was up under her skirt, plunging fingers in & out of her own wet cunt.

I think I orgasmed first, but I'm not sure. If I did she was right behind me.

She swallowed every drop of my cum as she succumbed to her own orgasm.

She drew her hand out from under her skirt and I grabbed it, drawing her hand to my face, I licked every finger clean.

Her breathing came in ragged short gasps, she whimpered "Take me home and fuck me or I'll staddle you in this car."

I didn't need any further encouragement!

Back at her place she opened the front door and went running down the hall to her bedroom. By the time I got there she had discarded the dress and was standing near the bed almost totally naked, arms hanging down beside her body. She was left wearing only stilettos, her perfectly shaped breasts heaving, nipples erect, her long slender legs encased in black, lace top stockings, and with the bed light behind her, you could see the wetness glistening on her pussy lips. She looked magnificent!

Her chest heaving, she demanded "Are you going to stand there staring or are you going to fuck me?"

"I'm going to fuck you," I growled as I ripped my clothes off.

I was naked within seconds, clothes strewn all over the floor, I took hold of her.

She melted into my arms, our mouths locked together, tongues exploring, probing. My erection was poking into her stomach. She grabbed hold of my cock, stood on her tip toes and guided me into her depths. She was very, very wet and I slid in easily, burying my cock to the hilt. We stood there, mouths still locked together, arms around each other, her rocking back and forth on my rod. Her movements became more urgent, thrusting herself, harder and harder on my cock. I could feel her pussy begin to spasm, her breath becoming ragged.

"Oh god, I'm cumming! Don't stop! Hold me tight! Oh god! Oh god! I'm cumming!"

Her cunt muscles went into spasm, gripping my cock like a vice as she orgasmed.