Chapter 2

Naturally I had explained away my experience with Gina and Patrick as a result of her hormone treatments and their own kinky proclivities. The next time I showed the Sex House, it was to Ellie Curtis, a woman who had just finished a year-long ugly divorce. She had decided to indulge herself in a nice big house all to herself. She was a bank executive, and in her skirt-suit with an expressionless face, she presented an intimidating visage, despite her small size. I’m sure that when she gave orders, glaring through over-sized glasses with her curly flaming orange hair done up in a bun, there was no feeling of warmth in her subordinates.

But with me she had let her hair down, literally and figuratively. I think that between work and her recent ordeal with lawyers and bureaucrats, she was relieved to be able relax around someone and let them make the decisions. On the day we looked at the Sex House, she was wearing a pale pink blouse with ruffled short sleeves, and a floral print skirt. Her mane of hair was hanging free, half-way down her back.

Ellie blushed when she opened a nightstand drawer in the master bedroom and found a half-opened box of condoms and a bottle of lube. “I hope I get as much action in this house as the current owner does,” she said nervously. It was a strange thing to find in the nightstand, though. Nobody had lived in the house for quite some time, according to the database; and yet, that’s not the sort of thing you leave behind when staging a house for sale.

“Have you thought about what you’d do with the extra bedrooms?” I asked as Ellie admired the view from one of the other bedrooms.

“One of them would have to be an office,” she said, thinking out loud. “I’d love to put my treadmill in front of this window - it’s so sunny - but I’m worried that it might be too visible from the street.”

“Why is that a problem?” I asked.

“Oh,” she said with some embarrassment. “When I run on the treadmill I only wear a sports bra. Can you image what the neighbors would think if they saw me like that?” I could imagine it quite vividly.

We were in the livingroom when I asked if she had thought about having children. “I don’t know - maybe some day,” she said. “I’m so exhausted from constantly planning and fighting to control everything. I think I need to spend a couple months just letting life happen to me, you know?”

We looked each other in the eyes. There was something meaningful between us in that moment, but I can’t say what it was. Then I took charge: I spun her around and bent her over the couch. She made no sound or movement of defiance as I moved my hands under her skirt and up her thighs.

Stepping back, I removed my tie and bound her hands together behind her. After lifting her skirt I peeled her threadbare granny panties down and lifted her so that her hips were supported by the back of the sofa. Kneeling, I tied a knot in her panties, securing her knees together. My face was inches from her unshaven pussy, the scent of it awakening my appetite and quickening my blood. After stripping down, I shoved my wadded-up briefs into her mouth. She still didn’t make a sound. The look in her eyes was helplessness, but not duress.

Ellie moaned as I slipped my cock between her wet lips and pushed deep inside of her. Her hips felt perfectly shaped for my hands, and her pussy was at the perfect elevation for my height. I pounded her: I slid in and out powerfully, my cock pressing against the very limit of her cunt, again and again. I grunted like an animal as things became more intense. Ellie’s moans gave way to screams, muffled by the cloth in her mouth. We came together, Ellie screaming enough to make herself hoarse, as I rode the wave of my orgasm and pumped my fluids into her body. I kept fucking her, even as I went limp, to keep her orgasm going as long as I could.

After we finished, I took her phone from her purse and snapped a picture. Her pussy was agape, and a frothy foam of our juices covered it and her thighs. She was looking right at the camera with the look of a deer in headlights. I ungagged her and untied her hands, but we had to cut away her panties, which she stuffed into her purse.

“I needed that,” she said, after returning from the bathroom, fresh and composed.