The first month of autumn in Sydney was feeling more like summer. Although the nights wore the tell-tale signs of the approaching winter, with a real chill in the air, but by day it was glorious. To make my day even better, I had received a text message from my sexy neighbour asking if I could meet her for brunch.
“Certainly.” I typed as my reply, despite driving in the West bound morning peak, returning home from my usual drop-off run of various family members. “Give me the time and place and I’ll be there.”
My whole mood changed and I felt elated at this news. Any time spent with Michelle nowadays was special. Some more special than others, as I am sure you are understand. Coupled with this special meeting was the knowledge that school holidays were due to start at the end of the following week, which also encompassed the Easter break, so I knew our time together would be limited in coming weeks.
“Woolwich Pier Hotel, Hunters Hill @ 11?” Her texted reply came in just as I had to stop for some traffic lights. Quickly I replied my acceptance and thumbs up.
The air was very still as I parked the car, not even a hint of a breeze, despite being so close to the river, which made the feel of the sun on my back even more soothing. When I got out of the car I took a moment to straighten the sky blue fitted shirt I was wearing and tidy my hair which had being tussled from the open car window. I wanted to look at least half presentable for my sexy partner. I felt like I was walking on air, as I bounded up the stairs, as Michelle had directed, and found her seated around the corner from the stairway, discreetly tucked into a corner of the balcony dining area. She looked gorgeous with the late morning sun still catching that part of the balcony and streaming upon her. The sight of her was made even more stunning as the sun light reflected off the glass behind her, giving an amazing back light, which caught in her hair and made it radiate with a soft golden glow.
I stopped in my tracks, gobsmacked by her beauty. My photographer’s instinct took over and I reached for my phone. I had to capture this image of her loveliness.
“No photos please,” she pleaded, coupled with her beguiling smile.
“Oh, all right,” she said, giving in to my little-boy hurt look. “One photo….. and just one.”
Photograph taken and checked for quality assurance, I continued toward her. I discreetly looked her up and down, admiring every centimetre of her sumptuous female form and enjoying the look she returned. I could tell as I approached, that Michelle had visited the hairdresser, hence the 11am timing I assumed. She wore a figure hugging apricot boat necked T-shirt top with long sleeves, which she had pulled up along her forearms. This was teemed with a pair of hip hugging denim jeans and cork wedged shoes. I could not take my eyes off her as I walked closer. She sipped her glass of water languidly and then looked back in my direction. I kissed her fully on her ruby red lips. Her tongue met mine as we greeted each other with a warm and loving embrace.
“Wow! You look fabulous.” I said still admiring her curves as I sat. “Did you get your hair straightened?”
“Not chemically straightened, just blow dried. I did have some blonde highlights put in though. A girl has to hide the greys from time to time.” She laughed acting coy. “I have not order anything drink-wise, I wanted to wait until you arrived before deciding.”
“I think I know what to order and thank you for thinking of me.” I smiled and looked her over yet again. “You looked great before, but the hair and the styling,” I paused trying to pick the right words. “Absolutely amazing look….. In a word; gorgeous.”
“Well, thank you kind sir,” she said, genuinely blushing.
“I feel like Gok Wan.” We both laughed at this.
A bar attendant came past and I ordered a bottle of Prosecco and some nibbles to go with it. As he departed, Michelle’s hand found mine and gently gave it a squeeze.
“Good choice.” Michelle affirmation delighted me as I had not consulted her.
“So, what brings you here?” I asked casually, not really knowing what to say.
“I have some news.” Her face was as bright as the day.
“Oh, is that so!” I exclaimed raising my eye brows in what I hoped was a comical way. Thankfully she laughed.
“This is not the sort of location to replicate the newsreader video though.” I added, reflecting on our last meeting.
“Oh, you’re incorrigible,” she exclaimed, hitting me on the thigh.
“I have some good news and some not so good, well maybe not so good. Arghh, I’m getting all tongue-tied and it’s all your fault for reminding me off that newsreader,” she said laughing out aloud.
“Oh, I see,” Grinning broadly.
“Let me tell you
my news, and then
we can work out what is good what is not so good. Notice I am avoiding the word ‘bad’ as I don’t think any of it is too bad, but I will leave that up to you.” She lifted my hand and kissed my fingers gently. Like a moth to a flame, I leaned across the table and kissed her mouth fully again, only to be interrupted by the bar attendant returning with our drinks. He quickly deposited the ordered items and asked if I would like him to open the bottle.
“No, thank you, it is fine. I will do it.”
The sound of the cork popping echoed loudly in our little alcove but it was a sound that accompanied a lovely warm day perfectly, such like the one we were enjoying together. Michelle expressed her pleasure at the sound, explaining it was one of her favourite sounds.
“It’s better though today, because of present company.” It was my turn to blush.
“Cheers.” The clink of glasses heralded our salute, “To us.”
“Now to the news,” I exclaimed, trying to put on a deep news readers voice. The result must have been amusing because Michelle nearly choked on her drink.
“Okay. Here goes,” she said, wiping her mouth following my attempted humour. “School holidays start next week.”
“Don’t remind me,” I added.
“Yes, I know.” She took another sip. “This is very nice. I’ll start with what I think is the not so good news.” She drew a breath before continuing. “On the 29th of April, the day after school returns, it is my wedding anniversary.”
“Congratulations,” I offered and we clinked glasses again.
“Thank you. My husband has planned a trip away for the two of us, no children, to Alice Springs and then on to Broome. We will be away for ten days.”
“For the two of us?” I asked, indicating Michelle and I.
“What? No!” She said exasperated that I was breaking her train of thought, then fully realising what I had said, she added, “If you are not going to listen I will have to put you over my knee and give you a good spanking.”
I moved to drop across her lap. We both were laughing at our silliness but it was great fun as well. I apologised and she reminded me of what she had said about April 29th and the subsequent dates.
“Oh, I see,” I said, trying to mentally work my way through the calendar. I gave up and quickly consulted my phone. “So. You will be back on Friday, May 9th?”
“Yes, but the flight does not get back into Sydney until late evening.”
“That’s not too bad, I suppose.” Putting on a sad, down in the mouth look. “I hope you have a great time.”
“Thank you, I am sure we will.” She took a large mouthful of her drink and seemed glad to be past that piece of her news.
I refilled our glasses and proposed a toast to her anniversary (again) and to her safe return. We discussed various aspects of travel within Australia and the high cost of accommodation. I mentioned that I had heard Cable Beach was supposed to be beautiful and she went on to explain about the travel plans they had made. I nodded and commented at appropriate times even though I was not totally absorbing her commentary. My mind was fixed on her breasts, my eyes drinking in the succulent curves that danced tantalisingly under her top as she related the details of her trip.
“Are you paying any attention to what I am saying?” she asked after a while with a humorous note to her voice, while playfully kicking me under the table.
“What? Oh ... Yes.” I responded a little less than convincingly.
“Liar,” she said in a semi-threatening way. “You were more intent on these,” her hands cupping her breasts. “I know you well enough by now. Plus, I could tell by your fixed gaze what was filling your mind.” She sat back and drank deeply.
“Never mind. I rather like the thought of you being fixated with my chest.”
“Fixated?” I said, partly as a question and partly as a statement. “Michelle, if my thoughts were able to be translated into action, telekinesis I think it is called, you would be naked by now. At least the top half if nothing else.”
“Oh, you naughty man,” she answered, mockingly covering her breasts.
“If I was naughty, you would be totally naked.......” I deliberately refrained from further comment.
“And then what?”
I looked deeply into her smouldering blue/grey eyes. Talk about come to bed eyes and my crotch thought so as well.
“I think bending you over the table, spreading your lovely legs wide and taking you from behind, would be definitely in order.”
“Taking me where?” she asked, obviously enjoying playing out this sexually charged exchange.
“Right here...... Oh, I see what you mean. You were being literal with my words.”
She smiled seductively.
“I would get behind your naked body, push you onto the table, and fill you with my hard cock and fuck you until I inundate your .........um, your............”
“Okay. Steady on my big man. I understand,” she said, reaching over and patting my rising crotch.
“Waiter, I need a cold spoon, or maybe a cold bucket of iced water, stat!” She comically gestured to call the non-existent waiter over, at which we both broke into laughter.
“Okay. Okay.” I put my hands in the air to suggest surrender. It was so easy talking to Michelle. Being with her just felt so right.
“What is the rest of your news? If that trip was the not so bad, the good news must be amazing,” I said quickly shifting to topic.
“It is believe me.”
“I do, but please tell me what it is. The suspense is killing me.”
Some early lunch diners had arrived which meant we no longer had the river facing balcony to ourselves. I moved my chair to be closer to her and to ensure our conversation would be a bit more private.
“On Sunday, May 18th, my husband has to go away for his work. He will be away until the 23rd. He comes back on the 23rd I mean. On top of that, my son leaves for school camp on the Monday morning, the 19th and he is back home 21st. Now, before I get too excited, I have a funny feeling you mentioned something about these dates yourself a few weeks ago?”
I quickly opened the calendar on my phone.
“What was the first date?” I asked, making finger errors in trying to open the right application, my own eagerness getting in the way.
“He leaves on Sunday night, May 18th.”
“Oh my god!” I exclaimed excitedly. “I have to go to the airport on the 18th. My wife flies out at midday, bound for Europe. She will be away for two weeks.” I looked into Michelle’s sparkling eyes.
“You mentioned school camp as well didn’t you?” I asked returning my excited eyes to the calendar.
“My daughter has to be at school for 8.30am on the......” I deliberately hesitated to build the excitement. “It’s a Monday....... and it is the 19th.” I said the date with a bit too much gusto as some people nearby turned to see what the noise was.
Michelle’s hand grabbed my arm. We looked at each other in stunned disbelief. Neither of us could speak for what seemed ages. The possibilities; this discovery of an alignment of dates; it was all too much to absorb straight away. Slowly, we began to understand and comprehend the wonderful opportunity that was opening for us.
“Three days, or near enough to three days, and
two nights.......” Michelle whispered.
“Do you think we could...... you know,” I was nervously excited about asking even though I knew what the answer would be. “Spend that time together?”
“I think we should take the opportunity, don’t you?” Michelle said, taking my hand and gripping it tightly.
“Sounds like a plan. However, before we get carried away with this exciting bit of news. What is the other?” I enquired. For all I knew, there might yet be a spanner that could get thrown into the works.
We were both overwhelmed and from an outsiders’ point of view, we must have looked like a couple of teenagers on a first date. We were sitting as close to each other as possible, holding hands tightly and speaking in low, hushed voices which were obviously filled with bubbling excitement. Our heads were together in deep conversation and discussion, with a lot of phone based calendar consultation, you could have been forgiven for thinking that a major conspiracy was being planned.
“Okay, get ready,” Michelle suggested while opening the calendar on her phone. “How is your schedule looking for a period of two to three weeks, commencing June 29th?”
“That’s the first Sunday of the June school holidays, isn’t it?” I asked, not knowing what she was leading to.
“Yes. The school term finishes on the 27th. Are you available for an adventure?”
“I guess so. You’re not secretly Gandalf are you?” I responded, a little unsure of what I might be expected to commit to.
“Gandalf? What? Oh, I see what you mean.” She laughed her merry laugh, signalling to me that she was truly enjoying this time together and the plotting that was starting to take shape. “No, I am not. I don’t have a beard, as you can see, and I have just had the greys covered at the hairdressers.” Just then a wicked sort of look crossed her face. She leaned in close to my ear.
“In fact the only hair I have is the hair on my head, and a little bit elsewhere, as you know by now.”
It was my turn to choke on my drink. It took us both a few minutes to stop laughing, some of the patrons nearby turned to see what was going on, which only increased the laughter. Finally recovered, Michelle carried on with the third bit of her news.
“My son’s school is going on a European Music Tour and they are looking for someone to be the official photographer come video-person....”
“Videographer,” I interjected.
“Thank you,” she said before continuing, barely drawing breath. “They are looking for one person who can do both, who can accompany them on the tour and produce still images on CD and a DVD of the trip.”
“Would you and your son be going?” I asked hesitantly, but inwardly getting pangs of excitement again.
“Yes. He is in the choir and is a definite starter. I have already put my name down for a parent slash student carer place. It is not a certainty yet, but Clare, she is the head of the music department and tour organiser, has given me a verbal acceptance.” I knew she was excited at the prospect but I still had some concerns, which for now I decided to keep to myself.
“Are you interested?” she asked, squeezing my hand.
“Wouldn’t you’re husband want to go as well? If not on the whole tour, maybe to catch the last leg, or even directly afterwards and have some time in Europe holidaying?”
“He thought about it but can’t because of work. You know, end of financial year and all that.” She waved a dismissive hand in the air and then turned on me again.
“Are you interested?”
“Sure. I have done the same thing for my sons’ school on two of their music tours to England and Europe, their only two tours to be precise, so I have an understanding of the brief that needs to be filled.”
I elaborated about the previous tours I had been on and the work I put in after we had returned and she concurred that what I was telling her was exactly what she understood this tour required. That was well and good, I thought, but my gut feeling was telling me to try to keep a lid on her excitement for some unknown reason.
“Good.” She added, and then drained the rest of her glass. “Are you free tomorrow at around 10am?”
“I guess so. What are you up too, you devious little tiger?” She smiled broadly and kissed my cheek.
“Clare would like to meet you to discuss the details and her requirements both during the tour and after.” Her simmering eyes nearly melted any resolve I had left; nearly but not quite. “I talked with her on Saturday morning at rugby and that is how the meeting arrangements were made. I hope you are not angry with me for being pushy?”
I told her I was happy she was happy, and that I would gladly speak with Clare. Michelle continued by asking me a few more questions about the previous tours. I answered in full detail and she hung my every word. When I finished she was even more excited than before but there was a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that I could not ignore, maybe it would dissipate after talking with Clare.
We finished the bottle and toasted our luck at being presented with the opportunity to be together for the two nights and subsequent days, in particular. We both agreed that such an opportunity was time that required us to make the most of but just as we were about to start putting our heads together and get organised, Michelle’s phone rang. She apologised for the interruption, and apologised again as it was a call she had to take. She answered and I noted the slight shortness in her voice as she spoke to the caller and then, still maintaining a resemblance of politeness, hung up.
“I am so sorry, Ray. I have to go. That was my husband and he needs me to take him some documents he left at home which he needs for a meeting this afternoon. Fucking hell! Oops, sorry.” She smiled, blushing at her F-bomb outburst. “I am just so pissed off. I actually picked them up this morning and asked if he needed them and he said no, can you believe it. So now I have to drop everything and, like the fucking cavalry, come to the rescue, yet again.” This last sentence was said in a voice full of sarcasm at first and increased in force as her anger rose to the boil again.
I had never seen Michelle angry before and felt glad I was not the focal point. I kissed her lips gently and told her not to worry. I reminded her that we had each other to fall back on and the opportunity to make some plans for some time together was something we both could look forward to. I put my arm around her shoulders and suggested she focus on the positives and rise about the negatives. She thanked me for my understanding, as we walked down the stairs. Once outside, we put our arms around each other and walked to the parking bays across the road. I had not realised that she was parked right next to me.
“Will you be home tomorrow after I see Clare?” I asked as we reached her car.
“Definitely. I wouldn’t be able to function properly, not until I hear all about it, the excitement would be too much. Unless my stupid husband forgets something again.” The sarcasm in her voice and the face she pulled were quite funny and I could not hide my amusement, which made her laugh as well. “If you want, come around to my place straight after?” She kissed me tenderly as I agreed with her suggestion.
“I had better go and rescue the day…… ciao.”
“Gods speed, fair lady. A-river-derci!” I said, putting on an Aussie drawl and bowing low with a lavish flourish of my arm.
“Gandalf... Away!” she cried, at which we both laughed.
I looked longingly at her. She smiled broadly, her eyes as blue as the sky above and as bright as the sun dancing upon the river in front of us. We kissed again, our tongues colliding with an urgency that, under other circumstances, would prelude a torrid sexual encounter. My hand found her breast and cupped it firmly which was greeted by a moan of approval coming from deep in her throat. Reluctantly she broke our embrace. Yet again she apologised for not being able to continue our morning together, and was on her way.
***
The sound of the alarm the following morning tore me away from a dream world full of Michelle. My aching, hard penis was testament to the effect she had on me. I casually stroked it as I lay there in the first glimmer of day light that came through the large glass floor to ceiling windows and doors that looked onto our upstairs balcony, the gossamer white curtains, softening the light. I thought of Michelle’s bra encased breast filling my hand the day before as kissed farewell, the heat of her body pressed firmly to mine and the firmness of her fingers caressing my back as we embraced.
“
Oh well, on with the day.” I thought to myself, shuffling my way toward the shower.
This day, however, was not going to be a typical day for me. It was going to start in the usual fashion; make the breakfasts and prepare the troops for their individual days and get them to their respective drop-off points, but then there was the meeting to get through. A meeting conceived and arranged without my involvement, to be hosted by someone I had not meet, and the outcome of which I had no idea about. Sure, I knew what Michelle expected, but my gut feeling was telling me to approach it with an open mind, to hear what Clare had to say and to take my time before making
any commitments.
Fortunately, I had time, following the morning drop offs, to return home and dress appropriately. I had originally dressed as if for a normal day to save any tricky questions but now I had to get a move on, the morning traffic had robbed me of some time that would have otherwise been spare. After much indecision, I finally selected a plain white fitted shirt with dark navy jeans and a tailored black jacket with a fine white pin stripe. I looked in the mirror and felt happy with the look, the shirt and jeans comfortably snug to show the athletic shape of my slim body.
“Why all the fuss?” I asked myself. I had no answer, other than it was a habit when getting ready to meet a client, especially for the first time. You only got one chance at a first impression as they say.
I arrived at the school gate twenty minutes early, not being one for lateness. I parked near the main entrance and decided to go straight in, figuring by the time I went to reception and signed in and a message passed to Clare about my arrival, it would be close to the arranged timing. The grounds were large compared to most government schools, as you would expect from a private Catholic school. The sports field off to the right of the main drive were immaculately green but still showed signs of the rugby games played over the weekend. The main building was a huge red brick and sandstone building in the Italian-Gothic style with a smaller, but equally beautifully styled, chapel behind. I entered the main door, an imposing double door with intricate lead light glass inserts, and walked along the long Persian style hallway runner to the modern looking front desk. I noted with delight, the high ornate ceiling, above the hall and the delicate use of colour, in the federation style, on the walls and cornices. The receptionist, a plump efficient looking woman of middle age, directed me to sign the visitors’ book with a wave of her fleshy arm. Just as I was about to take a seat on the large dark brown leather sofa, she called a senior boy who was walking past and asked him to take me to the music centre. I could tell he was not too happy about the request and I lowered my eyes to hide my amusement, knowing that I would have reacted in exactly the same way at his age.
It’s strange how the more things change, the more they stay the same.
I followed him through numerous hallways, admiring the decor, and then across a large quadrangle area with a huge sun shade above. There were two basketball courts marked on the ground and a number of handball areas as well. I smiled to myself, reflecting that when I went to school we had to use chalk to draw our own handball courts. I asked my guide a few questions about the school but got little response so we spent the bulk of the journey in respective silence. At the top of a flight of stairs he stopped and pointed.
“If you go down these stairs and turn right you will see the music departments’ main entrance right in front of you.”
I thanked him for his help and stopped for a moment to get my bearings. The music building was newer than those of the main building, its pale golden brick work reflecting the seventies period of architecture and design. It was only a single story construction but it spread out over an area close to two football fields in size. All was quiet as I stood there, taking in various landmarks so I could navigate my way out.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” I said quietly as I descended the steps.
I greeted the music department receptionist and told her I had a meeting with Clare and apologised as I had only been given her Christian name. The receptionist was a small framed woman with a skin colouring that told me she was probably of Italian heritage, with black hair and the dark Mediterranean features of the South. She indicated for me to take a seat and said that Clare would be with me shortly. Again, just as I was about to be seated, the receptionist apologised and told me to go through into Clare’s office, which was off to the left of her desk.
I knocked as I reached the open door. The room went off to the right of the door and was narrow but long, with windows along the left hand side as I looked into the room. Some of the curtains across from the door were pulled back to reveal an outlook on to a beautiful rose garden that showed every sign of being lovingly kept. The desk was at the far end of the room with a head studiously bent over some papers and indicating, with a wave of a hand, that I was to enter. The floor along the left hand wall of her office was awash with a variety of instruments, from guitars and violins to woodwinds and brass, together with numerous pieces of sheet music. This reminded me of the shemozzle that was the music masters office at my sons’ high school. I wondered if Clare had a similar management style to him as well. He was a chaos generator in the name of creativity and building the future of the department but leaving the delivery up to the staff; time would tell.
Taking a seat in front of her desk and a little to Clare’s right, I waited for her to finish what she was doing. Her dark brown hair was tied back in a bun, so it was difficult at this stage to guess just how long her hair was. Her skin looked pale white against the darkness of her hair and the black jacket she wore. From this vantage point that was all I could determine and see of her, so my mind went wandering and images of Michelle crept in.
“Sorry about that.” Clare’s voice jerked me back to reality with a start. “You must be Ray.”
“You must be Ms...”
“Clare is fine,” she interjected, rising from her seated position and offering her hand.
We shook hands in greeting and exchanged a few pleasantries. Clare was a tall woman, at least six foot, depending on the size of any heels she might have had on. Her jacket was short, black and tailored, finishing at her hips with a small ruffle. Under the jacket she had a pale blue simply styled blouse which tucked into the waist band of a black hip hugging skirt that finished mid-thigh. Around her waist she wore a belt the same colour as her blouse. The first impression was quite eye catching; professional looking outfit and grooming, a person that emanated a certain sense of presence and appeared to have an air of confidence. Her sense of presence was reinforced by her height, not doubt, but her smile was warm and welcoming, and made even more appealing because of her crystal blue, twinkling eyes. Her shoulders were not too broad, but broad enough to give increased angle to the triangular configuration as her torso tapered in to her tiny waist and filled out to rounded hips; an hour glass figure if ever I had seen one. Her blouse was unbuttoned to that delicate degree of decency, just in line with what could be guessed to be nipple level. I noted that the button hole was showing some signs of strain as the material stretched across of her eye popping chest.
“She’s packing a pair of 38’s!” I mused to myself, recalling a school boy joke which was a parody of the old gangster movies. “I wish I could take private lessons from her.”
“Michelle tells me you’re a photographer and could do the photography and video work we need for our music tour?” Her voice was gentle and soft, not unlike a teacher of young children, but there was a sense of purpose in it as well.
“Yes.” I answered, trying to guess an age bracket for her, no more than mid to late 30‘s surely, not that it would have changed my opinion of her. She was stunning and would not have looked out of place in movies from the 50’s and 60’s. I went on to explain my previous experience of the music tours with my son’s school and my role both during and after each. She nodded and made notes while listening and asked the occasional question.
“I guess you fit the bill to a tee. I would like to see what you did regarding the DVD at some stage?” Making a final entry on her notepad. “Michelle certainly spoke highly of you.”
“That was very nice of her. I think she would be excellent with the boys on tour,” I said, feeling the warmth of my blushing cheeks rising and trying to talk up Michelle’s application into the bargain. “We are neighbours…”
“So she said. From the way she spoke though, I go the impression that you were her partner.” Clare interrupted. Her soft blue eyes fell upon me and it felt as if she could see my every thought. I shifted in my seat a little uncomfortably but returned her look.
“I could get the DVD to you through Michelle, if that is okay?” I suggested, hoping to avoid making any comment about being Michelle’s partner. Clare nodded, it seemed she had something important to relate which gave me the impression she was going to leave that topic open.
“Before we go much further, I have to tell you the dates have changed. Is that going to cause you to reconsider?”
“It all depends on what the new dates are.”
“As you can imagine from your previous experience, these things take a lot of planning and organising, and due to some glitches, I have had to push the timing back to the September school holidays. Michelle was not aware of this when she asked you.” Clare wet her lips with the tip of her tongue before continuing. “I now have a firm commitment of the dates for all the performances, all the venues and all the accommodation, so now I can start finalising head count numbers for the students and the teachers as well as accompanying parents and carers.”
“How many people are you expecting to go?”
“I will get to that at our next meeting.”
She stood up and walked around her desk. She carried her body with an air of a person in charge of the situation. I found it difficult to get a read on her, partly because it was our first meeting, and partly because I was secretly undressing her sensational body. As she started to speak again, she sat on the edge on her desk just to my right. Her long legs protruding from the hem of her black skirt which was snuggly wrapped about her milk white thighs. I noticed that her heels were only small, thereby supporting my original assessment that she was a tall one.
“The change in timing is better for the school curriculum as well,” she continued, crossing her left leg over her right. “It also means we miss the extreme heat over there, which is good all around, but on a personal note, it is good for me. I am not a summer person and I am not one who can take too much sun, as you can see.”
“Yes, I…”
“I thought you had noticed,” she said, cutting me off mid-sentence (thankfully) and then crossed her right leg over her left. I looked them up and down, admiring the slight muscle contours of her calves and the narrowness of her ankles.
I shifted position again, trying to hide my discomfort which was mixed with a sense of growing sexual intrigue. My throat was dry at the nearness of her commanding presence and I had to stifle a cough before speaking.
“You certainly do attract attention,” I agreed, trying to sound equally assertive, before adding, “September is good for me too.”
“That is pleasing to hear.” Her legs unfolded as she turned her upper body to retrieve her notes. “Will I put you down as a possible, a probable or a definite starter then?”
She had turned to get her notepad which was still on her blotter but her pen slipped off, moving it further away as she lifted it. She rolled a bit more onto her right hip to retrieve it which caused her legs to part slightly. I could not see far up her skirt, but her thighs looked equally milky white as her calves; smooth and inviting. I heard her catch her breath lightly as she lifted herself upright drawing my attention away from her lovely legs. It was not until she was fully upright that I realised what had caused her to gasp.
“Damn.” She exclaimed aloud, looking down at me. “My button has broken off.”
Clare held her blouse closed where the button had been, the button at nipple level I noted, but as she told me of her mishap, she flapped it open, exposing her deep cleavage and the inner sides of her lacy white bra cups.
“I might have some sewing equipment with me,” I replied impressed with myself that I had a prompt and suggestive reply at the ready, even though it was a lie.
“What am I to do?” she asked, moving her blouse opening from side to side.
“I think I have a solution?” I forwarded, throwing caution to the wind. My hand went to her knee and started to move along the soft, warm curve of her thigh. Clare stopped and stared at me without making any comment. Her right leg was out stretched, with the foot flat on the floor and her left slightly bent at the knee with her left foot hooked behind her right ankle. Her knees were slightly parted, giving me just enough room to insert my hand and move it north.
“What sort of needle would you recommend for such a situation as this?”
“If you could close the door we might be able to...” I left the sentence unfinished. Instead, I moved my hand further up under her skirt. Clare stopped my progress her by placing her hand on top of mine through her skirt. Just as she was about to say something her phone buzzed, it was the receptionist using the intercom.
“Hi Clare, I am going up to the middle school assembly and then I will go straight to the post office as we discussed. I will close the front door and put the unattended sign up for you.”
“Thanks, Darcia, that’s excellent. Oh, looks like we have the green light for September.”
Darcia closed the intercom connection by simply hanging up her phone which meant Clare did not have to move. Her hand was still holding mine in position on her thigh through the material of her skirt.
“I can’t stand going to assembly. It’s too boring.” Her tone was full of annoyance toward the idea of attending any of the weekly gatherings of the school body. My attention was directed toward furthering my education with some one-on-one tuition with the head of the music department (and the rest of her body).
I pushed my hand higher. Clare removed her blockade and placed both of her hands on her desk for support as she leaned back.
“Now, what sort of needle were you going to recommend?”
My hand reached the crease of her hip, her skirt gathering up around my arm. The heat being generated under her skirt was intense and only increased as I pressed my fingertips into the fold of her hip and her underwear, slowly trying to manoeuvre them lower, like the ancient adventurer Jason, in search of her fleece, golden or otherwise.
Clare shifted her position a little and parted her thighs some more giving me greater access. I stood to get better leverage and to answer her question, minus any words.
I quickly unbuckled my belt and fumbled my way to finally get my jeans undone. I pushed them down with my free hand unwilling to remove my right hand from its warm position at the top of womanhood. Clare kept her position, her eyes glued to my crotch.
“Is this an adequate needle, do you think?” I said pulling my underwear down to my knees along with my jeans.
“It’s a lot thicker than I expected,” she purred, admiring the view. “Michelle said you were well credentialed but I could not have guessed just how well. Has Michelle seen it? Is that why she was able to recommend you so highly?”
I chose to ignore her questions regarding Michelle but it did raise a question(s) of just what had Michelle and Clare talked about? Was Clare simply playing word games with me or did they actually discuss my ‘credentials’ (physical or otherwise) together?
“Now that IS being big headed and egotistical.” I thought to myself.
“I am not sure how to thread such a thing. I hope you can manage.” She smiled with her eyes, the smouldering look on her face imploring me to continue. Clare rocked her hips from side to side, roughly pulling her skirt up from under her rounded bottom.
“That might help a little,” she said, parting her thighs now that they were free of the restrictions of her tight skirt. I ploughed my thumb hard into her cleft. It was instantly engulfed with her searing heat and a flood of her copious juices oozing through the crotch of her panties.
I moved closer to her right side and pulled hard at the waist band of her knickers. Clare moved her hand and grabbed my hard cock that was resting on her hip.
“That is a good needle you have there,” she murmured, stroking the length of my shaft. My thumb ground into her soaking hole, through her underwear, drawing more of her flow through the material.
“Do you need some help with those?” she asked.
With her left hand, she quickly removed the waist band of her knickers from her hips. Then, letting my cock flop onto her desk, she wiggled her bottom and finally removed the garment from her lower body. She leaned back on her arms and spread her long legs wide.
I dropped to my knees and slammed my face into her dripping crotch. Her pussy was bare, not a hair in sight, and her mound was soft and slippery against my cheeks. I pulled her to me and placed my mouth over her pussy and sucked hard which made her shiver. She gripped the back of my head and shoved it to her pussy, fucking herself with my face. I speared my tongue as she thrust, stabbing it as deep as I could into her literally leaking vagina. Each time my face hit against her crotch she bucked forward and groaned aloud. She was getting wilder with each touch of my tongue inside her ribbed channel, my nose crashing into her throbbing clitoris. Both her hands wrapped into my hair as I lapped up as much of the river of juices pouring from her as I could. She was building toward a shattering climax and I was determined to join her.
“How do you want me?” she panted.
“Stay on your desk,” I commanded, pushing the chair out of way the with my foot.
I stood and stroked my cock in front of her fixated eyes.
“I think it’s time to thread this needle,” I said in a voice slick with her sexy flow.
She nodded and arched her hips. I marvelled as her gorgeous legs rose and started to wrap around my hips. It felt like every centimetre of her skin was equally as soft and warm. Her calves on my back and the press of her thighs on my hips drawing me forward as I put the purple head of my cock at the entrance to her pussy. I pressed downward, easing the thick knob lower until it rested against her rear entrance. Clare jiggled her arse, groaning with pent up passion to be fucked. Slowly, I gouged the thick head upward, parting her gripping puffy lips and crushing her clitoris with the blind eye at the tip.
“Oh.... Fuck me now,” she hissed. “Just do it. Fuck me hard, please.”
Once more I traversed the length of her vaginal opening with my throbbing cock, the juice of her excitement coating the head and glistening in the light that streamed in from a slit in the curtain. As I passed across her ribbed opening she bucked and pushed her hips forward. The thick head slipped inside her causing Clare to moan aloud, imploring me to fill her with every possible inch of my manhood.
She threw her head back as the crown of my cock slipped past her outer lips, the thickness opening her vagina, her hips rocking desperately trying to pull me deeper. I resisted as best I could, trying to hold myself back, just keeping the head lodged at her entrance.
“Fuck, I can feel you opening me up,” she groaned, reaching between us to feel the thick rod protruding from her body. With her right hand wrapped around my shaft, Clare raised her left hand and wrapped her hand firmly around my neck, and glared at me with her lust filled eyes.
“Fuck me... hard. I need your thick cock in me.”
I grabbed her hips and started stroking back and forth inside of her. Her thighs tightened around my hips, drawing me closer to her body as her right hand, which had been around me cock, started mashing her clit in wild circles.
“Oh... my.... fucking... god.... FUCK ME,” she screamed.
Levering off her hips, I thrust firmly forward, slapping my groin into her, each inward movement filing the room with the wet sounds of heated sex. Clare started pushing back as I pushed forward, literally fucking herself on my cock as I drilled her dripping hole. My pace was fast and hard, I was being relentless in my attack on her pussy but I knew I would not last long. I did not care. This might have been consensual sex but there was nothing sensual about it. Clare demanded I fuck her hard and that is what I was giving her. I lost all thought of her pleasure, this was all about fucking my cock into her body until I filled her with my come.
“Yessssssss....” she hissed, “I ... fucking .... coming.”
I felt my cock swelling inside her, signalling that I would come soon. I grabbed her hair into my right hand and pulled, bringing her head up. Clare moaned at that and screamed as she exploded.
“Fuck meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.....” Her whole body pulsed then gripped me so tight I could barely move. I pulled her hair even harder as I ground my pubic bone onto her clitoris, increasing the orgasmic sensation in her body. I quickly released her hair, grabbed both sides of her hips and pushed for all I was worth, as I exploded deep in her vagina. She had such a grip on me with her legs and thighs as well as her clamping vaginal channel, that I could not move. My cock just remained suctioned deep inside her, as the finally spasms of my climax deposited my juice to mix with hers.
She held onto me for a few minutes, draining every last drop I had to offer by flexing her thighs, which intensified the grip of her pussy walls. Finally her legs dropped to my side, releasing me from their grip. I pulled my cock out of her pussy leaving a pool of milky fluid on the edge of her desk. Her outer lips, which had been wrapped so tightly around my penis, were now red and puffy. The bare flesh of her mound was smeared with a mixture of our juices and sparkled in the sunlight still coming through the curtain. Clare looked dishevelled but sated. Her eyes were no longer filled with the burning desire that was there previously, instead, the soft, warm welcoming look I had been greeted with had returned with the added glow in her cheeks generated by her recent orgasm.
Without saying a word, I quickly pulled on jeans up, and put everything back in its rightful place. Clare was still sitting on her desk, her legs splayed and come oozing from her. Her eyes locked on mine as she moved her hand down and slipped two fingers inside her pussy. She smiled, as she slowly pulled them out and sucked them clean.
“A nice thick cock with loads of come, I am sure Michelle approves just as much and just as loudly as I do?”
“What are you talking about?” I demanded.
I was not sure what to make of her openly slutty behaviour but decided to try to get out of her office as soon as I could without spilling any beans that might give Clare an answers to her probing enquires regarding Michelle and I.
I looked at Clare sitting on her desk, feeling very uncomfortable.
“Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean.” She was finally moving off her desk and her clothing back in order.
“You and Michelle are fucking each other. I could tell by the way she talked about you. Only a lover would be so glowing in the way she talked in trying to convince me you were the man for the job. Are you the man for the job?”
“For the photography job regarding the music tour? Definitely,” I answered, not losing eye contact as she straightened her skirt.
“What would Michelle think if she knew you fucked my brains out right now?” She sat back at her desk, a look of self-satisfaction on her face.
“We are our own people. She would be fine. That’s if she had any reason to be upset that is.” I lied. In fact, I was not sure how she would react at all, but I knew I had to get out of there as soon as possible and tell Michelle everything that had happened before Clare could tell her.
For all I knew, she might twist the facts and make it… I lost my train of thought at the sound of Darcia returning.
“I’m back Clare.” I was relieved as Darcia’s voice filtered in, defusing this situation which was growing more bizarre and awkward by the moment.
“Great, thanks Darcia. I will be out in a minute. Ray was just leaving.”
I took my cue.
“Thanks for the interview,” I said, extending my hand to shake Clare’s.
“You are well credentialed, that is for sure.” She said, her eyes dipping toward my crotch and then back up to lock with mine. “I think we can safely say we have the photographers position filled now. Don’t you?”
“Is it a paying position?” I asked tactfully withdrawing my hand from hers.
“Oh, are you expecting to be paid for your services?”
“I couldn’t do it for free.”
She chuckled.
“Let me look into the budgetary situation first. If it is possible, I might be able to take you on as a contracted staff member. That way the school will foot the bill for the bulk of your travel and accommodation expenses. In other words, you would be entitled to subsidised travel like me. It would be interesting to have you under me.” She said with a lustful smile. “I will need to see you again to get various personal details..... to help fill in the appropriate paper work. I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you, I think,” I said out loud, not really wanting to do so, but it was too late.
“Oh, come on Ray. This is an opportunity to good to refuse. You and I know it.” She walked past me and lightly patted my groin as she headed to the door. She got to the doorway and propped.
“I know a good interview when I have one and that was a very good interview. I have not had one like that for quite some time.” She whispered as I passed her, she was standing as if holding the door open.
“Thank you, Clare,” I said. “Maybe next time we meet I won’t get such a grilling?”
“It will probably be even more in depth.” She said smiling brightly. “A necessity as I have to provide the required information and ensure it is accurate, don’t I? I also need to verify any referential material as well, like that DVD, so it is an imperative that we meet again. Don’t worry, I know how to be discreet.”
This last comment added to my unease but the thought of securing a paid position such as this was an opportunity to good to ignore. The added bonus being I would get to be on an overseas trip with Michelle. As soon as I got into my car I called Michelle on the hands free, at least to tell her I was on my way back, the detail I would try to leave until I got to see her face to face.
