Mr.O Goes To Work
“You’re so distracted. Did something happen at work?” Betty asked, topping up her husband’s coffee.
“It’s a new client. They gave me her file because I’m younger, but I don’t know. She’s a tough nut to crack.”
Betty kissed her husband’s cheek. “You’ll have her eating out of your hand.”
“I hope so. I could use a win at the office.” Orville closed the folder. “I’ll call you later, sweetheart.”
The neighborhood was nice, albeit a little worn around the edges. Poplars lined the streets; every sidewalk had been swept clean. Orville double-checked the address. A colleague had once mistakenly gone to the wrong house. It was a disaster. I’m not going to let that happen to me. No siree. The file says number 612 so number 612 it is. He pushed the doorbell and prepared the sincerest smile he could muster.
An angelic old woman answered the door. Her wrinkles fell across rounded cheeks like a river snaking through the hills. Her cherub lips held the sweetest smile framed by pure white hair and offset by turquoise eyes.
“Can I help you, young man?” she asked.
“Charlotte Firth? I’m Orville. I’ve been sent by The Agency.”
“Oh. That. I don’t think I really need that,” the elderly woman said.
“Miss Firth, I think we should discuss this. May I come in?” Orville gestured toward her pretty living room.
“Yes, of course.”
Orville began immediately. “My files tell me you have never had an orgasm. Is that correct?”
Charlotte blushed. “No. Never.”
“And Charlotte–may I call you Charlotte? Would you like to?”
“Yes, but…”
“But what?”
“What if I just… can’t?” Charlotte answered.
Orville chuckled. “Charlotte, I’m the best The Agency has. I’ve never failed and I’m not going to start now.” Orville held out his hand. “Shall we?”
Charlotte nodded.
“I’m going to need a verbal yes before I can proceed.”
“Yes.”
“Wonderful. I just need you to sign this form—simple liability wavers. Sign here, here, and here. Perfect.”
Once in the bedroom, Orville placed his checklist on the nightstand. He slid Charlotte’s cardigan off her shoulders and as he did, he kissed her neck. Check. He pulled her zipper down. Check. With a tug, her dress and slip fell to the floor, and she gasped. Check. Kneeling behind her, he kissed the delicate skin of her back, tracing a damp line with his tongue and removing her panties. He reached up and unhooked her bra. Check.
He turned her around. “I want to see you take it off–slowly,” Orville whispered.
Charlotte let it slide slowly to the floor. Check.
“My god, you’re beautiful.” He had never whispered those words to a client, but he meant them. As he ran his fingers lightly over her wrinkled flesh, the blue of her eyes grew darker, more serious, more intense. Her breasts, likely never large, hung flat. He looked at her, sorrowful that no man had touched them in the way she deserved.
Orville put one hand on each of her hips and eased her onto the bed. He took her nipple between his teeth. There was joy in feeling the client responding under him even though with some it took hours to break down the barriers abuse and fear had constructed. Charlotte, however, gasped as soon as his tongue circled her areola, teeth softly nibbling, nipple puckering. Unexpectedly, Charlotte grasped his hand and pulled it to her mouth. Her tongue darted out and ran up and down his fingers. He shivered. This was not how the session was supposed to go. Charlotte sucked his thumb into her mouth, nibbling and licking. Orville felt something new. His phallus, always reliably hard, was now throbbing, twitching, heat rising. He needed more control. He pulled his thumb from her mouth. She leaned forward to kiss him, but he stopped her.
“I’m sorry, I don’t do that,” Orville said. Instead, he eased her back and slowly removed his shirt and trousers, watching her expression as she stared at his member. It always pleased him when they saw the size, but her expression thrilled him. She wasn’t afraid. She looked hungry–her eyes fixed on his groin, her mouth slightly open and shiny wet.
Orville admired the fur decorating the lips of her vulva–downy white. With both hands, he spread it apart, admiring the succulent pinkness between. He ran a finger along the lips and a gush of liquid glistened. Charlotte wriggled her hips, impatient. Flipping his hand palm side up, he slid two fingers inside, gently rubbing the fleshy mound as if he were beckoning her to join him. Her back arched and she moaned.
Orville was confused. Normally, he was very focused on his work. His own pleasure was never a consideration, but there was something about Charlotte that enflamed him, his cock engorged and wanting nothing more than to pound into her, to take his own pleasure, and forget about hers. Stop it. Get control of yourself man.
Like an artist, he layered her experience. Keeping his fingers inside her, he licked and sucked on her nipples, and ran his thumb over and around her clitoris in a figure eight.
“My god, is this what I have been missing?” she moaned. Orville nibbled harder and moved his hand rhythmically in her slick wet pussy. She lifted her head and murmured, “I want you inside me. I want to feel you come inside me, please.”
Orville was aching to do what she wanted, to ram his cock into her, but it was not how the Agents’ Manual laid out the procedures. Cock in pussy was only a last resort. All other steps were to be tried first. But then Charlotte reached down and ran her soft wrinkled fingers over his pulsating phallus. The decision was made. He climbed on top of her.
Charlotte cried out. Orville lost all control. He pounded into her, felt her become more slippery and tight with each thrust. His own excitement rose, the agonizingly electric feel of his glans rubbing against her wet folds pushed him higher, closer, along with the certainty Charlotte was near release too.
As if she had heard his thoughts, she cried, “Now, oh please now!” Over and over, he hammered into her. He felt the warm walls of Charlotte’s sex pulsating. Together, they groaned, almost harmonizing, as the wave overtook them. Charlotte lifted up, convulsing against his chest. His cock throbbed as it shot his hot seed into her. With a gasp, both fell back onto the bed.
Orville lay on top, panting. After a few moments he whispered, “When you’re ready, we can do the exit survey.” There was no answer. “Charlotte?” Orville placed his hand on her chest. He felt an unexpected wave of sadness.
Orville rose and dressed Charlotte. He wanted to leave her with dignity. When he finished, he cupped her cheek, kissing her gently on the mouth.
Outside, he dialed his wife. “Hello, dear. Yes, it went well, although I had a scenario 38. I’m going to be late—masses of paperwork. Ta-ta.” Tucking his phone into his breast pocket, Mr. O walked to the station and went back to work.
