Misunderstanding

by Fable

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Oral Sex, Slow, .

Desc: Sex Story: She had heard the line a dozen times. "Is it true what they say about female realtors?"



Thomas P. Keyton couldn't believe his good fortune. The blond creature looked up at him from her passive position, holding the base of his cock in her left hand, her right hand clutching his ass. Her eyes wide, watching his reaction to the wonderful feeling she was giving his member. He was making little grunting noises, his jaw slack, his control lost, his mind swirling in wonderment.

Sarah Perkins wondered how she let this happen. What had come over her? It was so unprofessional, falling for an old line that she had heard a dozen times before. He thrust his hips forward, pushing the head of his cock to the back of her throat, making her gag. She quickly moved her right hand from his ass to his balls, cupping them as a warning to control his hips, silently telling him the slightest movement would force her to close her fist on his testicles.

She intentionally batted her eyelashes and relaxed her grip on his balls as she rocked back on her heels, bobbing her head forward, swirling her tongue, moving her lips on his cock. She saw a vein pop out on his neck and could tell he was getting close. His cock became warmer, swelling, and ready to erupt. She felt the weight of his balls, lifting them and letting them bounce in her small hand to remind him not to thrust forward. It would be counter productive. She was in control.

His mouth clamped shut at the same time his balls contracted. Sarah watched him and heard the low growl emerge from deep in his chest just as the first spray emerged from his cock. She felt it hit the back of her mouth, recovered quickly and aimed his cock to the side so she could swallow. She continued to jack him, feeling his balls contract and pump, contract and pump.

There were droplets on the head when she released his flaccid cock. Not feeling obliged to lick it clean or put it away for him, Sarah managed to rise to her feet. Tom was obviously weak in the knees, too spent to help her up. She walked through the dining room to the kitchen, her heels clicking on the bare floors. She returned with paper towels, lowered herself to her knees and wiped the stray goblets from the wood. Would cum leave spots on hardwood flooring?

Once in the upright position again, Sarah cleaned a droplet from her hand and rolled the towel into a ball. She cleared her throat, licked her lips and resumed the sales pitch as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "As I was saying, this is a splendid space, open to the wrap-around balcony," she said, pointing upward, trying to sound effervescent.

Tom was tucking his shirt tail in his pants and buckling his belt, trying to pay attention to what Sarah was saying, hiding his irritation with her vibrant nature. She had an annoying habit of exaggerating, calling a room spacious when it was not, and using words such as stunning and gorgeous to describe features that were clearly worn, even gross.

But he wanted to be courteous, especially after receiving the favor she had bestowed upon. As he looked around he could see possibilities with this house. He wished he knew the criteria his secretary had stipulated. There was only one prerequisite that mattered; this house was near the trolley line. Otherwise, all he needed was a comfortable place to sleep when working at the home office.

Sarah was struggling with the challenge all sales people encounter from time to time, disguising the flaws in the product they are trying to sell. It was a small row house, two bedrooms with a bath and a half; his secretary had stipulated three bedrooms and two full baths. The backyard was miniscule. "It will be easy to keep track of the boys on rainy days," she said, motioning to the balcony above the main room.

Tom nodded, seeing her point. She had cleverly turned a drawback into an advantage. The open space provided no privacy from above but she had made it sound attractive. No matter, if he needed privacy he could always close the bedroom door. As a student of salesmanship he applauded her strategy.

"And I'm sure they won't mind sharing a room," she said, now heartened by Tom's obvious appreciation of the space. "Let's go upstairs and look at the bedrooms."

He followed her up the stairs, thinking what an adventure it would be to bend her over the balcony and fuck her from behind. There was no furniture in the house.

Sarah turned when they reached the landing. "They are four and six? Is that right?"

The questions and her sudden turn took Tom by surprise. Should he mention the droplet of cum on her chin? It was beginning to crust. And what was she talking about? Actually, it was his secretary who had spoken to Sarah and arranged the appointment. He recalled a number of conversations concerning his housing preferences but the new job had drawn most of his attention elsewhere. Settling in, meeting the people at the home office and making the right impressions were his main priorities. Finding a suitable place to sleep was secondary. But he did wish he had listened more attentively to Nancy's briefing regarding his search for a place to sleep. Had Nancy misunderstood his needs?

"Yes, four and six," Tom said, remembering Nancy sticking her head in his office to confirm the ages of the smiling boys in the photo on his desk. He had no idea why she thought he had a family but he didn't correct her. Nancy had been retained from the past administration and he didn't know her very well. Concerned that she would think him too young and inexperienced to be the new vice president of sales he had nodded, letting her continue to believe he was married with a family. She must have relayed the information to Sarah along with answers to other snippets of information, vital to finding the ideal home for the young executive and his family.

Tom could find nothing to complain about on the second floor. The two bedrooms were quite large, one at the front with windows to the street and the other overlooking the tiny backyard. The bathroom was between the two rooms with the balcony connecting the upstairs rooms to the stairs, open to the large room below.

He was concentrating so deeply on how things would work, mentally placing furniture and the few paintings he owned that he forgot about bending Sarah over the balcony railing. He dismissed the thought of seducing her, knowing that he would never forgive himself for taking advantage of a married woman. The ring on her finger was the first thing he noticed when they met.

Sarah was pleased at how well the showing was going. She could tell by his reaction that Tom was impressed with the house but she was keeping her fingers crossed, waiting for him to discover the drawbacks. There was still the matter of the second bath Nancy had stipulated and the miniature backyard. "Seen enough up here? Let's go downstairs. I can't wait for you to see the kitchen. It's state of the art. Your wife will love it. Does she like to entertain? The dining space is magnificent."

Tom didn't know why Nancy thought he needed three bedrooms and two baths. It must have been something she had heard about resale value. When Sarah opened the door to the half-bath he stuck his head inside and looked around briefly. His mind was still reeling from the chandelier in the dining room and the fully equipped kitchen. He had avoided the question about his wife liking to entertain but he was already picturing himself hosting dinners for single friends he hoped to meet. Too bad this sales lady was married.

The lack of a tub or shower in the down stairs bath didn't seem to faze him, making Sarah wonder if she had misunderstood Nancy on that point. There was still the matter of the backyard to get past. Should she point out that it would be unsuitable for two small boys to play there? There was hardly room to turn around.

She was mystified when he wanted to know the price. They used the island in the center of the large kitchen to fill in an offer form.

Sarah was giddy when she dropped him back at his office. She could still taste his cum and her knees were raw from kneeling on the hardwood floor. Her hair, she knew, was out of place and she didn't dare check her makeup in the mirror. She would have to go home and clean herself up. She couldn't go back to the office like this.

How did it happen? She had been nervous from the moment he got into the car. He was not particularly good looking but she could see how he had risen to his new position, overseeing the sales force from the home office. He was self poised and confidently brash. His smile was captivating. During the ride to the first house he interrogated her, abstracting crucial facts that would give him the advantage. "What does your husband do? Where did you go to school? Let me guess, age 32, married 10 years, two kids, a boy 9 and a girl 6. Am I right?"

She neither agreed nor differed, twisting the silver band on her ring finger, smiling shyly as she drove.

Perhaps it had been a mistake to take him directly to the house that best fit his criteria but Nancy said his time was limited. There were three bedrooms, two baths, gentle sloping lawns and the location was perfect, near a good school and practically on the trolley line. Nancy also said that since Tom traveled frequently he didn't plan to have a car.

She didn't argue with him when he rejected the perfect house but she wondered if her efforts were futile. Nancy had warned her that Tom would be out of town all of the following week and she didn't know when there would be time for another appointment. He was sure to find the other two houses deficient in one way or another.

"You have the bluest eyes I've ever seen," he said as they drove to the second house. His lingering eyes were setting her on edge. He's probably guessed my bra size, she thought. "I'll bet your kids are cute too," he added. There was that smile again.

Damn him, he keeps looking at my legs, she thought until she realized why his eyes were fixed on her shapely calf. Her left foot had been riding the brake for two blocks. Her hands gripped the wheel, palms moist.

"This next house has been completely updated and it's only two blocks from the trolley stop. I think you'll find it to your liking," she said, avoiding revealing the age of the house.

Somehow she made it through the viewing without wilting. Tom was gracious, waiting until they were out the door before discretely pointing out that, while the home had been updated, the other houses in the neighborhood were not being maintained as well.

"I'll bet your husband was your college sweetheart," Tom ventured as they drove to the third and last house to be seen. She did not answer his question; it was none of his business. Sarah was ready to give up. Besides being lacking in the essentials he had requested, the third house was overpriced. Next he would be asking about her sex life, how often, what they did and if she enjoyed it.

"Is it true what they say about female realtors?"

Sarah took a deep breath, considering telling him to go to hell! She knew what he was alluding to. She had heard it a dozen times from newly transferred executives who came ahead to start their new jobs, leaving their families behind to finish school, to wait until the husband found their new home. Sometimes, a female realtor would give the man a blowjob to keep him loyal to her. If that was what he had it mind, Tom would have to find another girl, someone willing to cooperate. A sale was not that important to her.

She was having trouble with the front door key. It wasn't working and Tom wasn't being helpful. He had paid no attention to the front of the house. Sarah doubted if he had even noticed it was a row house, attached to homes on both sides, with no side yard. His eyes seemed riveted to her ass.

"Isn't this spacious! And just look at the woodwork," Sarah exclaimed as soon as they were inside. Her announcement sounded hollow, echoing in the empty room. Their footsteps reverberated as they walked around the large room. She noticed that he was paying more attention to the surroundings than her ass. That was a good sign. This was the first room that held his interest for more than a few seconds.

He'll see the defects any minute, it's too small for a family of four, and there are only two bedrooms and one and one-half baths. There's no backyard to speak of and the price is outrageous. Still, he was surveying the balcony above, imagining the possibilities.

Sarah was the top sales person in her office. She could let him walk away, find another realtor who would work diligently to satisfy his housing needs and fulfill his sexual fantasy as well. But Sarah was also competitive; a sale was a sale, even if the product did not fit his needs. She sunk to her knees and beckoned for him to come to her.

Tom hesitated a few seconds before stepping in front of her and peering down at the lovely vision. Hesitation was evident on both their faces. She's married, this is wrong, he thought. He's married, this is wrong, she thought but only for a moment. What the Fuck! A sale is a sale!

He didn't help with the front door key and now he's not helping with this buckle. Had she misunderstood the meaning of his question concerning what is true about female realtors? Suddenly the pants fell down to his ankles and his cock popped out. She didn't bother to push his boxers down. She took the semi-hard cock in her hand and leaned forward, running her tongue around the helmet's rim and looking up to see the blank expression on his face. The hard floor against her knees made her cringe. She looked up, seeking his approval. He grunted. Her hand was on his butt, partly for support, partly to hold him in place. His cock hardened quickly. She felt it bounce, warm, slick, coated with saliva, moving in and out of her mouth on its own. There was no question; he approved.

The owner of the house had moved out of state and it took all weekend to track him down. After several phone calls and faxes had been exchanged Sarah called Tom's office to give him the news that the offer had been accepted. Nancy said she would relay the good news to her boss. Tom was due back at the end of the week.

On Wednesday a package arrived at Sarah's office. There was a pair of dark brown stockings with Tom's business card enclosed. She called his office to thank him. Nancy confided to her that the color was Tom's idea.

How considerate, Sarah thought, wondering what reason Tom had given Nancy for sending her the stockings. He must have noticed that she had rubbed her knees raw while sucking his cock. She knew exactly what she would wear with the stockings. Why brown, near the color of cocoa? Had he chosen the color because he wanted to see the stockings on her legs?

She was beginning to have self doubts. She dreaded seeing him again. She regretted that the blow job had taken place. Was that the clincher or would he have made the offer on the house without it? What must he think of me? Is he stringing me along? The sale could fall through. There were contingencies; the agreement was subject to the house passing an inspection and Tom's ability to obtain a mortgage. The mortgage! How stupid I am.

She telephoned Nancy. "Please ask Tom if I can help to get the ball rolling by suggesting an inspector and making some inquiries about interest rates? Oh, and we'll need his wife's signature on some documents. Do you know when she's planning on being in town? She really should see the house."

Sarah heard nothing from Nancy for the rest of the week. On the following Monday morning Tom called. "Can you meet me at the house Sarah? I'm having some furniture delivered later today."

How presumptuous! He thinks I'm waiting here for him to call. She had appointments, one at two and another at four. She phoned the two o'clock to postpone it and went home to change clothes. He was having furniture delivered to a house he didn't own yet. This was encouraging. He wouldn't even think of backing out now, would he?

The furniture truck was in front of the house when she got there. Sarah propped the front door open and Tom directed the two men to place the bed and mattress in the master bedroom. There was also a bedside stand and a throw rug, nothing more.

Throw rug? Isn't he considerate? Don't even think of it buddy!

"Help me make the bed Sarah," Tom said, producing a large bag filled with pillows, sheets and pillow cases.

"I want to lock the house Tom," she answered, irritated that he had hardly paid any attention to her. She knew she looked good. The tan wrap-around skirt was short, showing lots of leg and the dark brown stockings. Her shoes matched the skirt.

"It will go faster if you help." He was looking at her now. "You have the bluest eyes I've ever seen." Why does he keep remarking about my eyes? Why didn't he look at my legs?

"Okay, you take that side. Then we'll lock up the house and leave," she said, thinking of her four o'clock appointment.

He held the pillowcases for her to insert the pillows, laughing when the second one was done. Suddenly they were kissing, the pillow hinged between them.

Tom pitched the pillow on the bed and took her into his arms.

"What have I done?" Sarah mumbled as she looked around the room, seeing their combined pile of clothes on or near the bedside stand. Tom was asleep. "What have I done? He's a married man."

She remembered wondering why she had worn plain white underwear when he found the clip to unfasten her bra. Then his mouth moved to her breast and tongued her nipple. She helped remove the bra and tossed it haphazardly, in the direction of the bedside stand. He rolled down the stockings, careful not to snag them. She kicked them aside, not caring where they landed. She remembered him tapping her butt and her responding by raising it to permit the removal of her panties. From then on time stood still as he licked her pussy and teased her clit.

He's a married man, he has a family, she thought as she watched his chest rise and fall. She got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom to pee. She sat on the toilet and considered what she had done. It's no use telling him I'm not that kind of a girl. He would never believe that I don't make a practice of screwing clients. Shit, I gave him a blow job the first time we met. What is it about this man that turns me to mush?

There was no toilet paper. She smiled to herself. He thought to bring a condom but he didn't think to bring toilet paper. That proves something, doesn't it? He bought a bed; he planned for this to happen. I wore plain white underwear. That proves something; I didn't plan for anything to happen. Still, I did wear the short skirt to show off my legs.

Tom was awake when she went back to the bedroom. He watched her, smiling appraisingly. It was unnerving. She found a tissue in her purse but didn't want him to see her use it to dry her pussy. "Turn your head please," she said.

"Why? Don't you know how beautiful you are? I like seeing you naked. Your body is perfect."

"Please turn. I want to get dressed," she pleaded, not mentioning that she wanted to wipe her pussy first.

"Don't put on your cloths yet. Come back to bed. With a little encouragement I could perform again. You would like that, wouldn't you? I know I would."

He was right, she would like it. But he knew too much. He had heard her scream, "fuck me, YES, fuck me there, right there." It was embarrassing, he knew too much about her.

"I have a four o'clock," she answered, turning away from him to run the tissue through her slit to remove the moisture, and then bend to pick up her panties. He whistled and she turned, aghast with embarrassment.

He was holding his arms wide, beckoning her. How dare him. He's a married man with a wife and two little boys. How dare him!

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Oral Sex / Slow /