“Sorry… fun’s over,” she said, doing her best, for a change, to keep her own lust in check.
She turned and walked toward the closet where her robe was hung. She was conscious of the shiver of flesh on her body with each step, conscious also of the fact that he was watching her, seeing the delicious interplay between her tits and hips and buttocks as she moved.
“Hey,” he called again.
She opened the closet door and found the robe. “What is it?” she asked, without turning.
“I said, you look just as good right now and you did last night.”
“I heard you. What about it?”
“Well…” he seemed momentarily at a loss for words. She closed the closet door and turned toward him with the robe draped over an arm.
“Well what?”
“Well… you know. You look so good, you get me all hot again.”
“Do I?”
“And, take it from me, there aren’t many women who can do that to a guy like me. Usually on a morning after, well, I just want to cut out. Before it gets complicated or something. Know what I mean?”
“Yes,” Lisa said. “And you don’t have to worry about complications. I’m married… remember?” She slipped an arm into the robe.
“Hey, you’re not going to cover all those goodies up, are you?”
“I’m chilly,” she replied. “The party’s over.” She slid her other arm into the robe and drew it closed around her body.
“That’s the way it is, huh?”
“That’s the way it is.” Lisa walked across the room, past the foot of the bed, and paused at the door. “Please get dressed now. I have quite a few things to attend to, so I’d appreciate it if you’d let me get started.”
“Where are YOU going?” he asked.
“The kitchen. I’m making some coffee.” She paused. “It should be ready by the time you dress, if you want some.”
She left the bedroom and went dawn the short hallway to the kitchen. As she passed the door to the living room, she saw the collection of glasses and filled ash trays on the table by the couch. She hoped he hadn’t left any cigarettes burning when they had retired to the bedroom she didn’t want any more scars on that coffee table.
In the kitchen, she started the coffee. Her stomach grumbled, and she realized that she was very hungry. But she wouldn’t be able to eat until Harris left. It was always that way after spending the night with a man; she couldn’t eat until til he had departed, and ceased to remind her of the other uses to which she had put her mouth.
The coffee began perking in the little glass knob of the pot, and she turned the flame down. Beyond the kitchen window the sun was shining furiously and the sky was a brilliant blue. It was a good day out there, she thought, and it would be a good day in here as well if that man would ever pull on his pants and leave.
Absently she wondered where, and with whom, Ken had spent the night. The bastard. She was sure he had enjoyed himself a hell of a lot more than she had.
She didn’t hear Harris step into the kitchen behind her. He got her in three places at once. His hands came suddenly from behind her and scooped up her breasts. His chest came up hard against her shoulder blades. And down below, down at the soft cleft of her buttocks, she felt his cock spread her asscheeks.
“I thought you were getting dressed,” she said.
His face was pressed against her shoulder, and his breath blew on the skin of her neck. “I’m not quite ready yet. I told you, I’m still in the mood.”
She glanced at the bubbling coffee pot. For a moment she considered picking it up and emptying the boiling contents all over his naked body. But that would just cause trouble, and trouble was something she didn’t want.
“Please go inside and put your clothes on,” she said.
He turned her around and opened her robe. He gasped in awe as her full, round, dark-tipped globes leaped into view. Their size and firmness filled his mind with desire and his cock with tingling sensations.
Her whole body started shaking as his hands massaged her tits. No, she thought, no, I won’t fuck him again. I did the job, Ken gets the contract, we both make another bundle of money. But I won’t fuck him again.
He moved the robe off her shoulders. It fell softly to the floor. He slid her panties off, revealing the heavy, matted bush of her black cuntal hair. She stood with her legs just a little apart so the rounded curve of her tightly clasped cunt lips could be seen. Inside her cunt lips, the pinkness darkened and beneath them he could see the rounded bottoms of her perfect buttocks. They gleamed white against the darker skin on the inside of her thighs.
He almost whimpered as he moved into her, his cock bouncing in front of his body, its length stiff and straight as it pointed toward her cunt. He groaned in desire as his hands roamed over her belly, her hips, then down across her thighs and up to her cunt. His cock jerked up and down between them, a silver strand of cum seeping from its head as he combed the thick hair of her pussy with his fingers, letting the tips bask in its softness.
Again Lisa shuddered as his fingers dipped into the honey of her pussy. He moved back up her body.
“Hey,” he said, working her breasts in his hands and moving his hips against her. “You’re beginning to see things my way, aren’t you?”
“I’m very tired,” she said. “Please.”
“Now, look, I appreciate how you’re tired, and how you have things to do, and all that. Believe me, I don’t want to bug you. I like you, Lisa. I really do.”
“Please,” she said again.
“I like you so much, in fact, I think maybe I’ll drop by next week for another go-round. How’d you like that?”
“Fine,” she said. “That would be fine.”
“But, right now, well, I’d just like a little something to remember you by. A bit of dessert, sort of. Is that too much to ask?”
She gave up. The man was money in the bank, after all. He was also at least as stubborn as she was. The only way to get rid of him was to give him what he wanted.
She turned off the flame under the coffee pot and picked his hands from her breasts.
“All right,” she said. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
She looked at him, concentrating her attention on his face. “The bedroom, of course.”
“Oh, why bother?” he said, smiling. “We can take care of the whole thing right heft.”
“In the kitchen?”
“Sure. I told you, I don’t want much. Not a whole fling thing. Just a memento of last night, that’s all I want.”
He stared at her hungrily, and all at once she knew what was on his mind. Damn him, she thought, at this hour of the morning the son of a bitch wants a blow-job.
“Very well,” she said, pointing at a kitchen chair. “Sit down over there.”
“I haven’t told you what!”
“I know what you want.”
He grinned. “Yeah, I guess maybe you do. You’re really some hunk of woman, right down the line.” He went over to the chair and sat down.
She bent down and opened a cabinet beneath the sink. There was a soft rubber kitchen mat in there, and she pulled it out onto the floor.
“What’s that for?” he asked.
“Me,” she said. Still without looking at him, she kicked the mat in front of him and knelt down.
She was leaning toward him when he pushed his hands out. “Just a second,” he said. His voice was thick with excitement. “There’s something I want to do first.”
She leaned back and his hands slid down to circle her tits. He worked the flesh in his fingers, teasing them methodically. She waited, her hands resting on her knees, enduring it.
“Man,” he said, “you have a pair! Say, Lisa honey, did anybody ever tell you what a prize-winning set you
