She was a very pleasant, respectable housewife. I’ll tell you what, though … there was cunt in the air! The job was simple enough. Two days to do it properly, and I was in no hurry. The only complication was the stiff length in my pants. Half the time it was getting in the way and the rest of the time I was trying to hide it! And not always successfully. It was Jimmy and Deidre now and a nice afternoon tea and I was pretty sure Deidre was up for it — I sure was! I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, and she knew it I was certain. It was all I could do to keep my hands off those soft tits of hers. I wanted to stand in front of her and undo my pants and reach in and drag my hot rod out and show it to her and put it between her breasts and squeeze them around the stalk and fuck them til the hot spunk squirted up over her face and in her mouth, and kiss it off her nipples and … bl**dy hell, just as well it was time to go home! ‘Thank you,’ she said. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jimmy. And don’t. They exchanged glances, once the last pot was rapidly dryed and put away and the kitchen tidy, together they checked on dad, snoring through the film ‘The longest day’, not so quietly playing to itself on the telly, before hand in hand, upstairs they went. At her door she hesitated, they exchanged glances, and she whispered that, “she had something to collect, go on ahead!” then darted inside. He slipped down the corridor expecting her to dab on a bit of perfume or something, but never once doubting she would follow him, it was like some unspoken mutual agreement. In his room he picked up a couple of loose items and stowed them rapidly in a drawer… any drawer…pulled up his bedclothes, and was opening the curtains as she arrived, she had recombed her hair and as he suspected dabbed on a whiff of perfume, in her hand she clutched a white plastic bag which she threw down at the bedside. She closed the door quietly and as if a starting gun had sounded, they were off. Like the song…it.
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