Chris awoke lying on his side. In those first few seconds of uncertain consciousness, he kept his eyes closed and tried to figure out where he was. He was definitely in a bed. But was he at college in his dorm room, or in some girl's bed or was he at home?
A warm hand snaked across his hip and found his half-hard penis. The hand traveled the length of his shaft until it found the pronounced ridge that marked its bulbous head. Fingers began to massage that sensitive patch of skin that all men love to have massaged. Coming fully awake, Chris smiled, he was at home, and his mother, Heather, was after his cock once more.
Chris' cock grew, stretching longer and wider until her hand could span only the bottom of his shaft. He began to work his hips against the movement of her fingers. Suddenly her hand withdrew, and then slapped him sharply on the ass. "Stop pretending to be asleep. I will not be ignored," Heather said, her voice rising in mock indignation.
Chris spun about so quickly that his mother squealed with laughter. His hard-on slapped her on the leg. "No one could ignore you," he said hoarsely. He lifted her generous breast to his mouth and sucked on her nipple, tonguing it roughly.
"Oh yes, baby," sighed Heather. She grabbed her free tit and rolled the nipple between her fingers.
Chris licked and kissed his way down Heather's shapely form until he was teasing her pussy lips apart. Slowly he worked his tongue inside, sweeping it upward to wash over her stiff clit. She writhed against his touch, trying for a deeper touch, more stimulation, but Chris pinned down her legs with his forearms. It was useless to fight her son on a physical level. He was too tall, too well muscled for that. "Chris ... Chris, honey," she panted, "please stop teasing ... give me that cock ... your big cock ... ohhhhh."
Chris relented. As soon as he lifted his weight, his mother was up on her knees, waving her sculpted ass in invitation. Chris bent his cock down to pussy level and ran his finger along the thick tube at the bottom of his enormous dick. A stream of pre-cum flowed from its tip and coated Heather's vaginal lips. Not that she really needed it; the woman's hot, slick vaginal juices were practically leaking down her leg already.
Chris flexed his hips and six inches of thick dick went up his mom's deliciously tight cunt. That was merely a good start for Chris, but it sent Heather over the edge. She began to orgasm immediately. "Uhhh ... yes, yes, oh FUCK YES," her muffled wails came from the rumpled bed clothing where she had buried her face.
Chris reveled in the tremors that ran up and down his rock hard cock from his mothers clasping pussy. He closed his eyes and grinned. He loved to give her sexual pleasure; it gave him license to pursue his own gratification. He plunged more inches of his potent cock into her hot pussy and began to stroke in earnest.
He could feel the pressure building in his groin. It wouldn't be long before he would blow his wad in her pussy. It was tight, and clinging, and sexy, and hot, and ... and ... and it wasn't there anymore. Chris' eyes popped open. His mother was halfway across the room looking over her shoulder. "That'll teach you to torture me like that," she said with a giggle. She disappeared into the bathroom. A second later, he heard the sound of the shower begin to flow.
Chris growled deep in his throat. He knee walked to the edge of the bed; his elbows pumping angrily from his sides and his dick slinging sticky strings of pre-cum across the sheets. He reached the shower just as his mother stepped into the warm water. "That was a dirty trick," he said as he stepped into the spray. They were standing face to face. "You left me with a throbbing cock and blue balls."
Heather ran her hand down his shaft; the thing was prodding at her tummy. "Hmmm ... well, it's definitely throbbing," she said in a clinical tone. Her hand traveled on downward until she was hefting his ball-sac. "And these are certainly big and full of cum, but hardly blue," she said, looking down. She turned and picked up a bottle of soft soap. "Let's see what we can do about that." She squirted a generous amount of the soap across her breasts and into her hands. Lathering up Chris' steel hard cock, she engulfed its fleshy mass between her tits. Between the incredible length of Chris' cock, and the generous size of her breasts, Heather hardly had to bend over at all.
"Oh yeah," moaned Chris. He heaved his dick up and down between his mother's sweet globes. Within a dozen strokes his fully primed cock began to spew huge amounts of milky cum. The stuff welled up from between Heather's breasts to cascade over her creamy skin. Chris thrust upward and the head of his erupting dick jutted into the open to stream hot cum all over his mom's neck and face. She merely closed her eyes and reveled in the creamy flow of her son's cum.
After their shower — the real one, not the one Chris had supplied — he and Heather gathered in the kitchen for breakfast. Heather was in a silk gown and Chris had put on fresh boxers and a tee-shirt. Neither was in a mood to cook, so they went with their basic meal of cornflakes topped with fruit. Although Heather's portion was about one-fifth the size of Chris', plus she used skim milk while he went with the high octane stuff.
Chris had finished inhaling his food, and had pushed back from the table in order to better read the morning newspaper, when Heather neatly snatched it out of his hand. She straddled his knees and reached between his legs for his already hardening cock. "Mmmm ... hi there," he said with a grin. He undid the sash to her robe and let it fall open to reveal her outstanding breasts. And outstanding they were, at the age of thirty-five, Heather simply had great, shapely, firm tits. Chris cupped them in the palms of his hands and thumbed her erect nipples.
Heather played with her son's dick until it stood proudly between them. "So what are you going to do today?" she asked.
Chris dipped his hand between his mother's legs and softly stroked her clit. "Well, we could do this for hours," he said, raising up and giving her a kiss that left them both gasping for air. He'd been home from his freshman year at college for almost a week. When Heather hadn't been at work, they'd spent most of their time screwing their brains out.
Heather stood, and taking Chris' cock in hand, she worked the head between her pussy lips. She put her hands on his shoulders and slowly began to pump her hips. "I had lunch with the business women's association yesterday," she said conversationally, as if they were sipping their breakfast coffee and not committing delicious incest. "You remember Tanya Welling, Cindy's sister?"
"Uh ... yeah," said Chris as he put his hands on Heather's hips, trying to urge her along. He had dated Cindy when he was a sophomore in high school and she had been a senior. Everyone in school had wondered why she would have a younger boyfriend. Of course they didn't know that he had been giving her an unending stream of fantastic orgasms. Tanya had been a senior in college at that point, and Chris hadn't even been a blip on her radar. She had hardly been able to remember his name.
"Well, I spoke to her at the meeting; she's opened an employment agency down on Mervin Avenue. I set up an appointment for you today at eleven," said Heather. Chris had had a summer job lined up before the end of school, but it had fallen through.
"Oh, gee ... well ... okay, sure, I guess," said Chris aimlessly. He would have agreed to about anything at that point. The oily, satin like smoothness of his mother's cunt was overwhelming. When he felt her pussy contract around his cock in orgasm, he was set off. Shots of hot cum surged upward into his mother's pussy only to be replaced by more copious shots of his cream.
Heather pulled herself off Chris' cock even as the last of his cum leapt from the tip. "I'd love to stay and play," she announced, "but I simply have to go to the office." She caressed Chris' cheek. "Be a dear and clean up that mess."
"Oh sure," said Chris as he looked at the cummy mess coating his thighs and dripping onto the floor, "leave it all up to me," he grumbled.
"Get a job," Heather said over her shoulder as she swept out of the room with a swirl of her open robe.
Hours later, Chris steered his Jeep down Mervin Avenue. The road had once been a residential area of middleclass, one and two story homes. But the city had spread outward and now the avenue had become a corridor to newer, bigger houses in outlying developments, and the older homes had been transformed into businesses of various sorts.
Chris turned into the cramped parking lot of the Suntime Temp Agency, located in one of those older homes. Exiting his car, he climbed a flight of steps to a porch. A sign on the front door bid him to enter, so Chris stepped into what had probably been the living room or parlor of the old house. Halfway down the room on his left was a blocked off fireplace. On his right was a padded folding chair occupied by one very fat calico cat that barely opened one heavily lidded eye at his approach. Across the room, behind a desk, a young lady spoke rapid fire Spanish into a phone. At Chris' approach she put the caller on hold. "Can I help you?" she asked with a warm smile in slightly accented English.
"My name's Chris. I have an appointment at eleven."
The girl glanced at a desk calendar and said, "Just a second." Leaning back in her chair, she turned her head to the side and yelled, "Tanya, your eleven o'clock is here."
"Send him back," came a muffled voice.
"End of the hall on your right," said the girl pointing down a hallway.
"Thanks," said Chris. He saw her eyes shifting to follow his ass as he walked away. Chris grinned to himself; he knew he looked good. He was wearing his best khakis and a navy, oxford cloth dress shirt.
He reached the end of the hall and turned right into what he guessed had been a dining room. An ornate brass chandelier provided most of the lighting in the room, and a large bay window looked over what might have been a garden at one time. Tanya was seated at an L-shaped business desk. She stood as Chris came in and extended her hand. "Hi, Chris, it's good to see you again."
Chris leaned across the desk and shook her soft hand. Whereas Cindy, Chris' ex-girlfriend and Tanya's sister, was a five-foot tall bundle of sexy curves and red hair, Tanya was almost six feet tall in her heels, svelte and very blonde. She was wearing a turquoise dress with a business-like square cut bodice. "Hey, how's it goin'?" asked Chris.
"Great," said Tanya, "it was nice seeing your mother again." She gestured to a chair for Chris, and then resumed her seat, showing lots of nicely tanned leg.
They talked for several minutes. Tanya, Chris decided, was an excellent flirt. She fiddled with her hair, smiled at everything he said, held eye contact and she even held a pen which she rhythmically stroked with her finger tips. He wasn't sure if it was for his benefit, or if she treated all her male clients this way. Finally, she got around to asking about what sort of job Chris wanted. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "something outdoors maybe, try not to give me anything too mind numbing."
Tanya laughed. "That's usually the definition of a summer job, but let's see what we've got." She clicked through several screens on her computer. "Here's something," she said. "The Brick Estate is looking for seasonal workers. They want some college students to work as guides, do security, that sort of thing."
Chris shrugged and said, "That sounds as good as anything."
"Okay, that'll at least give us a starting point," Tanya said. "I'll give their personnel guy a call." She got on the phone, and in a few minutes she was handing Chris a scrap of notepaper. "You're set up for an interview tomorrow at ten o'clock, here are the details. Give this a try. If it doesn't work out then we can move on to something else."
"Thanks," said Chris as he stood and took the note. "I appreciate your help." He edged toward the door, preparing to leave.
Tanya checked her watch. "I'm due for a break. If you don't have to run, we could grab a soda."
Chris shrugged and said, "Sure, that would be nice."
Tanya led the way out of the office. She called down the hall, "Maria, stay near the phone, I'm going upstairs."
"Okay," her assistant answered.
"Follow me," Tanya told Chris. She went across the hall into another room and then took another turn up some steps.
The stairway of the old house was narrow and steep. The wooden stairs creaked as they climbed upwards. Chris' eyes were practically at Tanya's ass level as they ascended. He didn't mind it at all as her trim butt cheeks were alternately outlined against her skirt with each step she took. At the top of the stairs, Chris could see that the second story had been made into an apartment. There was a bathroom, bedroom, kitchenette and living room. Tanya gestured into the living room and said, "Have a seat, I'll get us some cokes."
The tiny living room was filled by just a few pieces of furniture. There was a chair, and a loveseat plus a table with a television on top and a compact stereo underneath on the floor. A tarnished brass floor lamp, which looked as if it was as old as the house itself, completed the decor. Chris sat on the loveseat.
Tanya returned to the room carrying two cans of soda. She closed the door and handed one of the cans to Chris as she sat beside him. "All we have is diet," she said. "We girls have to watch our figures, you know."
"Well, it seems to be working," said Chris, trying to make the line sound not too cheesy.
Tanya laughed appreciatively as she gave his thigh a little squeeze. "Thank you," she said. She sipped at her drink. "So how's college life?" They compared college experiences for a while. Chris didn't exactly brag about his social life and girlfriends, but he made sure that Tanya knew he was no hermit.
"You know," said Tanya, snuggling closer — something not easily done as they were already shoulder to shoulder — "back when you two were dating in high school, Cindy told me all about you one night."
"Oh really?" said Chris.
"Yeah, we'd had some beers, enough to put us in the mood to say stuff we wouldn't have otherwise. You know how that goes. I asked her why in the world she was dating a sophomore. I mean, you were good looking and all, but really, wasn't it ruining her socially? An un-cool image like that in high school was hard to live down."
Chris decided to take the plunge. "Did she happen to mention the mind-blowing sex, and about how I was fucking her brains out?" he said as if confiding a secret.
"Something like that," said Tanya with a salacious grin, "although she did bring up one startling point." Her hand went back to his thigh, but this time there was no quick squeeze. Her fingers found their way up his leg to his crotch.
Chris spread his legs in invitation. "What was that?" he asked. His dick was rapidly filling with hot blood.
Her hand found the base of his cock. "She told me..." her fingers began to trace the path of his thickening shaft, " ... that you were endowed beyond anything she'd ever heard of." Her palm bumped over the bulge made by his cock-head. "Oh my God, I thought she was exaggerating," she said with a gasp as her hand groped at his expanding cock as if she was trying to comprehend just how hung he truly was.
Chris was enjoying the moment immensely. "Why don't you look and see for yourself?" he said.
Tonya didn't say anything, but her hand went immediately to his belt. In seconds, with Chris' help, she had his pants down to his knees, leaving his jockey shorts with an obscene bulge running from his crotch toward his hip. Seemingly mesmerized, Tanya stood and straddled Chris' legs. Starring downward she said, "Oh please, tell me that's not some sort of stuffed athletic sock."
Chris chuckled. "Keep going," he urged her.
Tanya hooked her fingers under the waistband of his shorts and gave them a firm yank. Chris' huge cock leapt upwards and stood magnificently erect from between his muscled thighs. "Holy fucking massive dick, Batman," whispered Tanya in awe. Reverently, she ran her fingers over Chris' cock. It quivered with the beat of his pulse. Tanya massaged the sweet spot just under the flaring cock-head with her thumb and she was rewarded with a gush of pre-cum that washed over her fingers. "Oooo..."she cooed and cleaned the clear liquid from her fingers with the tip of her tongue. Using both hands, she bent Chris' cock back and fit the tip into her mouth. She rolled her lips and tongue over his bulging cock-head like she meant it. In fact, she was downright enthusiastic about the matter.
Chris simply laid back and relaxed as Tanya used both hands to jerk his iron hard shaft. It wasn't long before he could feel his sap rising. "Tanya," he said as he reached out and groped at one of her breasts, "I'm going to cum, and there's going to be lots of it."
Tanya didn't stop or even hesitate in her ministrations. If anything, she stepped up her exertions with her lips and tongue. Chris couldn't believe that the tall, elegant blonde was such an eager cock sucker. And that thought put him over the edge. His cock-head grew even larger, his cock-shaft even harder and then a huge blast of cum surged upwards.
Tanya's eyes widened in surprise as the shot of hot cream filled her mouth. It was an impossible amount of cum, and that was only the beginning. More and more of the stuff jetted past her lips; she had to positively gulp the wads down. When it seemed that she couldn't take any more, the gushes ran down to a trickle and then stopped altogether.
Tanya took a final gulp and lifted her mouth. "Oh shit," she said in awe, "Cindy told me you came like a volcano, but I didn't believe that either." She was still holding onto Chris' cock, squeezing and kneading his hard flesh. "You're not going soft, are you?"
"I guess not," Chris said in a husky voice, "especially if you keep doing that." By this time, Tanya's skirt had ridden up her legs to her hips. Chris ran his hands under her thighs until he was cupping her compact ass cheeks. He lifted her up, showing his intention to impale her sweet pussy on his upturned cock.
"Oh Chris, I don't know about this," Tanya said as she clutched at the rigid muscles in his forearms. Nevertheless she pulled aside the crotch band of her panties. Her pussy was practically weeping vaginal juices in anticipation of Chris' enormous cock-head.
There was a soft tap, tap, tap at the door. "Tanya?" Maria's tentative voice came from the hallway.
"Yes?" Tanya said weakly.
"That conference call is ready. You didn't forget, did you?"
Chris would have plunged ahead, but he could tell by the expression on Tanya's face that her mood was broken. Arm muscles bulging with the strain, Chris managed to stand and then he lowered Tanya to her feet. "Thank you," she whispered. Aloud, she said, "Coming right now, Maria." She giggled and whispered to Chris, "I wish." She poked Chris in the chest, "You owe me one."
"I'll count on it," said Chris. They got their clothing straightened, and in short order Tanya was on the phone and Chris was on his way. Outside the office, he stepped into his Jeep and checked his watch. It was nearly twelve o'clock. What to do, what to do? He was free for the rest of the day. He was hungry, and despite his three orgasms of the morning, he felt horny. Grinning to himself, Chris put his Jeep in gear and headed to a place that could take care of his needs.
A few minutes later he pulled into the parking lot of a local business called This That and the Other. It was his mother's store. She sold home furnishings of a mostly decorative nature. When he wanted to tease her, Chris called her a master purveyor of useless crap. He entered the shop and threaded his way between the displays. The sales floor seemed to be free of customers at the moment. A man seated at a writing desk looked up. "Hi, Chris, come to take me away from all this?" he said with a wink.
Gary was Heather's best salesperson. Impeccably dressed and coifed, he played the gay flamboyant male with unimpeachable taste to the hilt. Middle-aged women bought practically anything he suggested. He always made an unserious pass at Chris whenever he came in the store. Chris winked back at him and said, "Not today, lover, but don't give up hope."
Gary laughed. "I think your mom's in her office."
"Thanks," said Chris. He went to the rear of the store, walked past an 'employees only' sign and climbed a flight of stairs to the second floor. The store's warehouse was here as well as its offices.
"Hi, handsome," said a female voice from one of the offices.
Chris stopped and stuck his head in the door. "Hi, Diana," he said. "What's up?" Diana was his mother's assistant, bookkeeper and second in command. She was a rotund, jovial woman who kept her hair too blonde and too short.
"Same old crap," she said with a smile. "Come to bother your mom?"
"Good for you," Diana said with a laugh. "I think she's in her office."
"Okay," said Chris. He went down a short hallway and stepped into his mom's office. Across the room, three picture windows looked down on the sales floor as well as the stairs. Heather's desk was near the door. Chris tapped on the doorframe as he entered.
"Hi, honey," said Heather, looking up from her work. "How did the meeting go?"
"Good, I've got an interview over at the Brick Estate tomorrow," he said.
"The Brick Estate huh, that sounds interesting. Doing what?"
They discussed that for a minute and then Heather asked, "So what are you going to do this afternoon?"
Chris stepped behind her chair. He leaned over and cupped his mother's breasts in his hands. In a little boy's voice he said, "It's summer, Mommy, and I'm bored."
"Chris," hissed Heather, "not here. Someone could come in." Chris gathered the silk material of his mother's blouse between his fingers and rubbed it across her bra cups. "Don't tell me that you're still horny after what we did this morning?" she whispered.
He leaned over and whispered, "Not only after what we did, but I also scored a nice blowjob from Tanya."
"You're incorrigible," said Heather with a laugh. She didn't mind her son's girlfriends and lovers; she knew that she couldn't satisfy him on her own. Besides, she thought it was sexy.
Suddenly, there came the sound of someone approaching Heather's office. The old wooden floor creaked and popped under their footsteps. With a final titty-squeeze, Chris discreetly stepped to one side and put his hands in his pockets. In a second, Diana appeared in the doorway. "I'm going to lunch," she said to Heather.
"Okay," said Heather, "I'm going to eat here; I brought something from the house."
"How about you, handsome? Want a lunch date?" Diana asked Chris with a twinkle in her eye. "You can treat."
"I'll stay here and keep the boss busy while you take a three martini lunch," said Chris.
Diana laughed, "Three beers, maybe. Okay, I'll see you later then." She took her leave.
Chris waited at the office window until he saw Diana go down the steps and across the showroom floor. Smiling in anticipation, he turned and looked around the office. In one corner there was a small table where his mother kept an old manual typewriter that she used from time to time. There was a secretary's chair at the table. Chris grabbed it and rolled it across the office and positioned it a couple of feet from one of the windows.
"What are you up to?" Heather asked.
Chris gave her an evil grin and took her by the arm, urging her to her feet. "Time for us to do something a little daring."
"Daring?" said Heather with a hint of trepidation mixed with excitement in her voice as she allowed her son to lead her across the office. They'd been daring before. Besides the matter of their incest, they'd had sex in cars, in closets, several places, in fact, where they could have been caught.
Chris moved his mom in front of the window as he took a seat directly behind her in the secretary chair. "Now you just stand there and look over your domain like the business tycoon you are."
"What are you ... oh Chris, honey," she hissed as her son ran his finger tips up her inner thighs, lifting her skirt. He tickled her legs and ass until his mother began to twitch her hips. He moved on to her pussy mound, pushing the material of her panties between her vaginal lips.
"Oh my god, Chris," said Heather. "We're going to get caught."
Chris heard her words, but he noticed that she wasn't trying to get away. If anything, she was pushing her pussy against his invading fingers. His sexy mom was wearing the briefest of panties. It was barely more than a thong, and Chris pulled them down with his fingertips. Now he alternated fingering her clit with dipping his fingers into her hot cunt which was growing wetter with each passing second.
"Chris honey, your big dick is getting hard, isn't it?" Heather asked eagerly.
"Mmmm ... you know it is," he said. His cock was throbbing painfully in his pants.
"Come on, fuck me, honey." She was practically panting now.
Chris undid his khakis and shoved them down to his knees. His shorts followed and his huge cock swung free. It smacked his mom between her legs as it sprang upward. Heather reached down and painted her vaginal lips with the stream of pre-cum that was leaking from his cock slit. When she was ready, Heather released his cock and sheathed it in the well oiled, soft tunnel that was her pussy. "Fuck me, Chris. I can't very well stand here in this window, swinging my ass all over the place."
Chris laughed and shoved a foot of steel-hard dick into his mom. She steadied herself on the window sill as Chris began to thrill her cunt. He heaved upward from where he sat in the secretary chair. The thing creaked and popped and he hoped it would stay together. "Is anyone looking at you?" he asked.
"Gary glanced up here a minute ago," said Heather. The strain in her voice told Chris that she was fighting the urge to meet his plunging cock. "Oh look, there's Mrs. Trumble, and she's brought an entire gaggle of her gossipy, bitchy friends." Heather raised her hand and waved. "Yes, I see you ... you overdressed snob."
Chris was seriously screwing his mother. He sent his cock racing through her cunt faster and faster. "You tell 'em, Mom," he gasped.
Heather raised her hand once more. "Yes, hello to all of her bitch friends, too." Her voice was getting tighter. Chris could tell that she was close to an orgasm.
"You ladies spend lots of money today. Yeah ... give me lots of fucking money while my son is filling my pussy." Heather was practically groaning out the words now. "That's right you old whores. My son is fucking me with his fantastic cock ... a cock like in your dreams. Oh yes, baby, I'm cumming all over your hot dick." Heather bit on a knuckle to keep from screaming out as her pussy shuddered on her son's burning cock.
Chris was only seconds behind her. He reached up and around his mother's torso. Grasping her firmly by her generous breasts, he pulled her down onto his lap. With a shriek from Heather, they rolled backwards slamming into her desk while Chris filled her clinging pussy with his usual amazing amount of creamy semen.
Sometime later, footsteps sounded in the hallway outside Heather's office once again. Diana appeared in the doorway. "I'm back from lunch," she announced. "Is everything all right in here?"
Heather looked up from her desk. She had been absorbed in some papers. Chris was sitting at the smaller desk, idly punching at the typewriter's keys. "Uh ... we're fine," said Heather. "Why do you ask?"
"Gary said that he heard some funny noises up here," said Diana.
"Oh, Chris was just horsing around," said Heather.
"He can come and horse around with me," leered Diana.
"Oh go count something and leave my innocent little boy alone," said Heather with a laugh.
Diana turned and left. "Innocent, that's a good one," she hooted as she walked down the hall.
"I'm starved," said Heather as she pulled a bag out of one of her desk drawers. "It must be all the hard work I've done this morning." She winked at Chris.
"Are you going to share?" he asked, raising his chin toward the bag.
She pulled an apple and a container of yogurt out of the bag. "This wouldn't make a good appetizer for you," Heather said with a laugh. "Now get out of here so I can get some work done."
"Well, okay," he said as he walked to the door. "If you're going to starve you're only son..." he mumbled good naturedly as he left.
The next day Chris drove to the Brick Estate. He had to stop at a gatehouse — it was actually a house that cars could pass through, where a guard checked his name against a list of people having legitimate business. The guard gave him directions and a pamphlet containing a map. Chris followed a road that wound upwards through a forested area until he arrived at a parking lot for tourists.
He was early, so Chris decided to park here for a few minutes. He got out of his Jeep and walked to the edge of the lot. Across acres of lawn he gazed at the Brick Castle. Alan Fleetwood Brick had been an obscenely wealthy industrialist of the late nineteenth century. Wanting a summer home, he bought what would come to be known as Brick Mountain, plus thousands of surrounding acres of land. He quarried stone from the mountain and then built Brick Castle so that it not only abutted the mountain, it looked as if it had been extruded from the native rock. The castle was enormous with more than two hundred rooms plus an assortment of towers and spires. Brick sent agents throughout the world to track down exotic furnishings. After a building program of five years, the castle was essentially finished and the Brick family began a long tradition of entertaining friends, celebrities and politicians during the relatively cool summers at the castle.
Brick didn't intend for his estate to be run at a dead loss. Some of those vast acres were devoted to farming. The forests yielded timber as well as game for the table. There were even a couple of mines opened on the mountain. Time passed and eventually the Brick family couldn't maintain their opulent life style, despite their wise use of the land.
The castle was opened to the public. In return for tax allowances, the surrounding property was held as a public trust in the form of a public park. The latest Alan Fleetwood Brick was the fourth in line from the original. He was known as Fore to his golfing buddies because of a predilection to over swing and send his balls in dangerous directions. Fore may have inherited his wealth, but he made sure that his estate, as well as his other businesses, kept him that way.
Chris reentered his Jeep and drove on through the public parking lot and wound his way to the employee's lot. This lot was closer to the castle, but hidden from view by a garden wall. Chris followed a path to a side entrance. He assumed that this door was the proverbial tradesmen's entrance.
Inside, Chris found himself in a long, very plain hallway. Signs that marked various rooms protruded into the hall from hangers. Chris searched until he found the one that indicated the personnel office.
"Can I help you?" asked a young woman sitting at a messy desk. She was wearing a blue jumper with a plain white blouse. She had a pleasant, oval face with huge, dark eyes. Her relatively plain features were offset by a crimson lips and ears that sported gaudy, dangly earrings that weren't far from being wind chimes. Her hair was her most remarkable feature though. Her jet black hair was cut full and short, and tipped in a riot of colors. Chris couldn't help but smile at the sight.
"I'm Chris, I have a ten o'clock appointment with Mr. Green," he said.
The woman, Mary Simpson according to the name on her desk, checked a desk calendar and then leaned back in her chair. She picked up a phone and punched a button. A phone rang in an office that was merely feet away. She said, "Elmwood, you're ten o'clock is here."
"Send him in," Chris heard the man say clearly without the aid of the phone.
Tilting her head to the door, she said, "Go on in."
"Thanks," said Chris. He entered the next office. Elmwood Greene kept a much neater desk than his assistant. He was a doughy, middle-age man who stood as Chris came in.
After shaking hands, Elmwood said, "Please, have a seat." He consulted a notepad that sat squared up on his blotter. "Tanya Welling gives you a great recommendation."
"That's nice of her," said Chris. "She made this place her first recommendation."
"Have you known her long?" Elmwood asked.
"For several years," said Chris. "I used to date her sister."
"Is she as pretty as Tanya?"
Chris grinned at the memory of how often he'd pounded Cindy's tight pussy. "Shorter, but just as pretty," he assured Elmwood.
The personnel man nodded as if he'd check into that. "So, about this job..." he said.
They spoke for several minutes. Elmwood described the position, saying that Chris would be a fill in for various jobs. Chris just nodded his head every now and then; the job was much as Tanya had described. In the end, Chris said he was interested and Elmwood offered him employment. Chris accepted.
"Fine," said Elmwood. "Our last orientation class for summer employment starts tomorrow at eight AM."
"I'll be here," said Chris.
Both men stood and shook hands. "Of course there's some paperwork," Elmwood said. He picked up his phone and punched a button. The phone on his assistant's desk rang. In fact, Chris could see her answer it from where he stood. "Would you have Chris fill out the forms for a contracted employee?" Elmwood said.
"Sure thing," said the woman with the multi-hued hair.
"Mary will take care of you," Elmwood said, gesturing at the door.
"Thanks for the opportunity," said Chris. He walked all of ten feet to stand in front of Mary's desk.
"Have a seat," she said. Chris sat on a lightly padded metal chair. "Now smile for the camera," said Mary. She patted one of those eyeball looking cameras that was perched on top of her monitor. Chris smiled, and in a few seconds Mary said, "Okay, that's fine." She handed Chris a pen and a clipboard with several pieces of paper trapped under the clip. "Just fill these out for me."
"Okay," said Chris, and for the next five minutes he filled in the lines necessary for his employment. As he worked, he heard a clicking sound. When he looked up, he saw that Mary was gazing at him, and absently rattling a pen between her front teeth. She looked away quickly when he caught her eye, but when Chris went back to his papers the clicking resumed.
Finished, Chris handed the clipboard back to Mary. She went through the papers and pronounced them fit for use. She handed him a wallet sized laminated card. Chris took it. Obviously computer generated, the card contained his name and his picture. A bar code ran underneath both.
"This," said Mary with the air of someone who was saying something very important for about the thousandth time, "is your ID. It will give you access to the grounds, plus you have to swipe it through a time clock in order to get paid. Lose it and it'll cost you ten dollars to get a new one. Understand?"
"I'll protect it with my life," Chris said in mock solemnity.
"See that you do," she said with a smile.
At that moment, Elmwood appeared from his office. "Mary," he said, "I have a meeting. Would you mind taking Chris down to the store room and getting him a couple of uniforms? He's going to start tomorrow."
"No problem," said Mary.
"Good, I'll be back in about an hour." He began to walk to the hallway door. "Chris, glad to have you onboard," he said, giving Chris a pat on the shoulder on the way out.
Mary fiddled with her computer for a minute, and then opened a drawer in her desk. She removed a hefty set of keys that jangled cheerfully. "Let's go get you set up," she said. As she came around her desk, Chris cast an appreciative eye at Mary's figure. The plain Jane jumper revealed a narrow waist and nice sized, if not large, breasts. He followed her out of the office. They went into the hallway, made a couple of turns and stopped before a heavy looking wooden door. The upper half of the door was inset with a frosted pane of glass. Mary unlocked the door and they entered the room.
On the wall to their left and against the far wall were shelves finished in a dark stain. The shelves were filled with various office and cleaning supplies. To the right were a series of freestanding fixtures holding uniforms of varied styles and sizes. The fixtures themselves were heavy wooden rectangles with wide spread wooden legs on both ends. Clothes were hung on a bar which ran the length of the fixture. Chris ran his fingers over the smoothly finished wood.
"These used to be in the laundry," said Mary. "They're part of the castle's original furnishings." She smacked a wooden upright with the palm of her hand. "They built this stuff to last."
"I'd say so," said Chris. He couldn't imagine that any amount of clothing could strain that arrangement.
They walked amidst the forest of racks. All the clothing was hung neatly with dangling identification tags. "What size do you wear, in pants?" Mary asked.
"Uhhh ... my mom's always giving me clothes. I'm not sure," he said sheepishly.
Mary smiled at him. "Your mom has good taste," she said. Chris was wearing his khaki pants and navy, oxford cloth dress shirt once again.
"Well there's no point in guessing," she said. "Come over here." Chris followed her a few steps to a table that held a sewing machine and other sewing paraphernalia. She picked up a cloth tape measure, and then reached around his waist. As she stretched out the tape, Mary looked him in the eye.
Chris had seen that look before. She was interested, and probably not in sharing coffee and sticky buns either. He felt his cock stir, and he was about to let Mary know that he knew that etc ... when an insistent chirping erupted from her pocket.
"Excuse me," Mary said, pulling her cell from a voluminous pocket in her jumper. She walked far enough away that Chris couldn't make out her words, but he could tell by her tone that she was having some sort of intense conversation.
Chris knew that Mary would more than likely measure his inseam next. Which left him with one question: down which pant leg would he stick his swelling cock? He tugged and pushed at his crotch until he worked his half hard-on down his left leg.
Mary returned. "Sorry about that," she said.