Chapter 2: Sex With Mrs Braddock

I’d grabbed the towel from the shower and wrapped it around my waist as I left the bathroom. Mrs Braddock was waiting, standing with her arms folded, as I emerged. “You don’t need that,” she said, pointing to the towel. “Take it off.”

“Look, Mrs Braddock,” I said, trying to regain the initiative, “I’d really be happier if I kept it on.”

“Your happiness is of no interest to me,” she said, abruptly. “Take it off. Right now.”

I felt I should really try to regain the initiative. I wasn’t used to being bullied like this.

“I’ve had enough,” I said. “Phone Ms Fulbright for all I care. I’m leaving.”

“Of course,” Mrs Braddock said. “You’re perfectly free to leave.”

I looked around but I couldn’t see my clothes. I’d left them on a chair in the corner of the bedroom but they weren’t there. “Err, my clothes,” I said, pointing to the chair.

“I’ve no idea,” Mrs Braddock replied disingenuously, “but feel free to leave. I’ll send them on when they turn up. You’d better leave me your home address though. I don’t suppose you’ll be going into the office for much longer.”

The impossibility of leaving naked and the reminder of the likely outcome of a phone call to Ms Fulbright was sufficient to overcome my defiance. “All right,” I said, “you win.”

“Yes,” she said, with a smirk. “I usually do.” I unfastened the towel and let it drop to the floor. “Well I don’t know what all the fuss was about. That’s hardly anything to get excited about. It’s certainly not enough to excite me. See what you can do about it, can’t you?”

“What?”

“I’m sure you understand me. Do something about it. I can’t stand a man with a floppy cock. Good heavens the things are ugly enough at best. Get the thing stiff, at least. Can you do that?”

“Well, yes. I suppose so.”

“Good. If you can’t, you’ll be the first man I’ve met that doesn’t know how to wank.”

I felt quite foolish, standing in the middle of Mrs Braddock’s bedroom, rubbing on my cock while she sat on her bed, legs curled up under her, watching me much as a cat watches its owner opening a tin of food. In spite of the embarrassment, my prick responded to my attentions and started to stiffen. It is quite small normally but it gets up to what I think is a reasonable length when it’s erect. Mrs Braddock still didn’t look very impressed, though.

The phone rang. Mrs Braddock turned to the bedside table and picked it up. She put her hand over the mouthpiece. “I didn’t tell you to stop,” she said. “Just don’t make a mess.” She turned back to the phone. “Hello ... Oh Ms Fulbright. Yes. Thank you. The decree absolute has gone through apparently. Your man Lawson is helping me with some of the details arising as a result. I’m sure he’ll be able to handle things.” She smiled across at me, obviously amused by the fact that the ‘handling’ Ms Fulbright was imagining was not quite what I was engaged in. “Oh yes, I’ll be sure to let you know if there are any problems.” She put the phone down. “That’s a bit better,” she said, looking across at my now stiff member and sitting down on the bed. “Wash your hands and come and help me undress.”

I did as she asked and then walked across to where she was sitting.

“Unfasten my blouse,” she said. “And be careful. Firstly it’s expensive and secondly I don’t want your fingers straying where they aren’t wanted.”

I took care undoing the pearl buttons that fastened her blouse in front and on the deep cuffs of the sleeves. She let me slip the blouse from her shoulders. If circumstances had been different I might have been pleased by what I saw. Her breasts were rounded with a deep cleavage between them helped by the well-wired brassiere she was wearing. As it was I was just keen for Mrs Braddock to get on with what she had in mind as quickly as possible.