Chapter 3

Carl pulled up to the curb in front of Mary's house, slightly out of breath. He had been fantasizing, ever since lunch, about her outfit, and what else she might have in store for him when he got here. It had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep him from speeding on the way here, and the minutes had stretched out like hours, as he stared at his watch like it held the secret of life all throughout the second half of the school day. He had almost leapt out of his seat when the bell rang, and had almost stampeded a couple of freshman girls on his way to his truck. Now, twenty minutes later, he was here. His heart was hammering in his chest as his mind raced over what he was in store for. What would she wear? What would she say? What could he make her say? The suspense was almost too much for him, and his erection threatened to rip through the fabric of his jeans, halfway down his thigh.

He took a few calming breaths, reasserting control over himself. He needed to be in control of this, and he was sure that if he played his cards right he could have her eating out of his hand within ten minutes. He loved this part, and considered it his right after a conquest like the night before. He loved what he had turned her into, and knew that it was just the power of his mighty cock that had done this. She was addicted now, and she needed it so bad. He was going to give it to her, too, but he wanted her to know that he held all the power now, and she would do whatever he wanted if she ever wanted another taste of his fabulous cock.

His mind finally in the right place, he climbed down out of his truck and slammed the door shut with a flourish. In his mind he carefully measured his steps, wanting to appear lackadaisical, and even possibly a bit annoyed. Let her wonder what was wrong, and let her assume that it might be her, and she could be pushed even farther to make him happy. God, he loved this game, and he was very good at it. Reaching the door, he paused for a minute, looking back towards his truck while he grinned to himself. Getting his facial muscles twisted back into a bored scowl, he turned back to the door and rang the bell. As he waited, he cocked one leg forward, the leg with his erection snaking down it, putting his cock clearly on display for her to see, while appearing unaware that he was doing so. He watched closely, wanting to see her first reaction when she caught sight of him.

The door swung open all at once, and he was greeted by... not what he expected, even a little bit. An older, gray-haired woman stood in the doorway, looking at him coldly. Carl shivered as he felt her gaze travel up and down his body slowly, feeling like she was dissecting him from the inside out.

Genevieve was not amused by his posturing, and regarded him with distaste. His clothes were ridiculously tight, and the expression on his face was almost comical in it's attempt to look 'cool'. Genevieve felt her lip start to curl in derision, but kept her reaction carefully hidden. She was well used to the effort of keeping her personal reactions hidden from view. She reminded herself again that this truly was a good idea, despite the evidence her eyes were seeing.

"Are you Carl?" She asked. Her voice was not unpleasant, but was very strong to the ear. It rang of authority and high breeding, and left Carl feeling quite flustered.

"Y-yes ma'am. Is Mary here?" He managed to get out. He didn't know who this old bat was, but he was on a mission here. Maybe she was the maid or some such.

"That's none of your concern. Your business is with me. Please come in." She spoke imperiously as she stood aside, holding the door open with a practiced courtesy that did nothing to warm the coolness of her eyes as she took him in.

With a mental shrug, Carl followed, wondering what was going on. Mary had invited him, though, and had told him to be here, so it wasn't like he was doing anything wrong. Maybe they had made a bit too much noise last night, and had kept this woman awake, he thought with a small smile as he passed by her and into the foyer. He heard the door close behind him and turned to her.

"Follow me please, Carl. We have much to discuss." She stated, as she strode by him and down the adjoining hallway. Without much else to do, Carl turned and followed her, figuring he was in for a lecture of some kind. This was almost too good, he thought. Mary was going to be mortified at this treatment, and desperate to keep him from dropping her like yesterday's news. His cock gave an involuntary twitch, regaining some of the life it had lost at the surprise greeting. His imagination was on what exactly Mary would say, and do, to keep his interest as he followed the woman into what appeared to be a study. She walked to the desk, and delicately sat down behind it, smoothing her long blue dress underneath her as she did so. She had a very imperious, almost regal air about her as she looked up to regard him as he stood there awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Please close the door, Carl, and come have a seat."

Carl did so, making himself comfortable in a chair across from the lady, noticing somewhat to his chagrin that the chair was slightly shorter than hers, which left him looking slightly up at her, or, to put it another way, put her looking down at him with those stern eyes.

Genevieve kept her expression neutral as she studied the man. Divorcing herself from her judgment of his mannerisms, speech, and dress, she analyzed the young man's physique with an appraising eye. He had tightly corded muscles in his arms and chest which were very pronounced without being bulky. His legs were proportionate, and not overly large, but still in fine shape, showing their shape well through the ridiculously tight jeans. His penis was everything advertised, and she found her gaze drawn to it as she attempted to gauge how large it truly was. It seemed her daughter had not been mistaken with her assessment of the boy.

"Carl, what is your last name?" She began.

"Windsor. Carl Windsor. My dad's Michael Windsor." He replied. He watched her face for some reaction, but got none. Having a famous dad sometimes got him out of scrapes, but either she had never heard of him, or wasn't worried about what it could mean to rip his son to shreds.

"Fine, then. Mister Windsor, my daughter, Mary, has arranged this meeting. She and I have spoken about you at some length these past few months, during which time you have managed to weasel, cajole, and almost rape your way through the majority of the cheerleading squad at your school. It was Mary who first heard of you through some of her friends. You and your exploits, and she came to me with a plan to test you out. She and I arranged her appearance and demeanor in such a manner that it would give us an adequate example of what sort of man you were."

She paused for a moment, sparks in her eyes as she spoke to him. His head spun somewhat, assessing what she had said, and reflecting on it. He started to smile, though, because he knew what was coming next. If they really HAD hatched this little plot to gauge how good of a lover he was, then he knew that he had to have blown whatever little bell curve they were using. He waited to hear her remarks, wondering how this prim and proper old woman would manage to make 'getting the fucking of her life' sound regal and classy. He figured that had to be the reason for this meeting, was because this old bat couldn't believe what she had heard, and wanted to verify it herself. Hell, she probably wanted to get a peek at it herself. Well, he didn't go in for that kind of stuff, but he'd play her little game, just to watch her face when she saw the weapon he was packing. The weapon that had made her daughter scream the night before.

"Mary told me all about your... seduction... last night, Mister Windsor. She told me each detail, from your clumsy attempts to initiate contact at school, to your over-the-top approach to your appearance and demeanor, to your complete and total lack of ability to sense her moods at any point, on through your pathetic attempts at foreplay, your absolute assurance that anything you did would be doing her a favor, on through your bungled attempts to please her, all the way through to your premature climax. She told me all about how hard she had to work in order to achieve any orgasms at all, and how disinterested you were in any sort of after-coitus affection, or even conversation. She told me about your ego, your fragile little boy's psyche, and your almost Neanderthal-like approach to human interaction. Indeed, Mister Windsor, she told me so much about you that the thought of what she was proposing was rendered increasingly distasteful. Indeed, I am truly ashamed that it has come to this, but life does not always take us where we wish.

Mister Windsor, Mary told me all these things, but she also told me about your genitalia, both its size and girth. She also remarked quite favorably on your physique and overall physical appearance. It is quite apparent that you keep yourself in fine shape, ostensibly to play organized sports, though I daresay that it feeds your narcissism quite well, and that may be closer to the true motivation. You are rude, uncouth, have little to no understanding of women, either physically or emotionally, and have the sexual technique of a dinosaur. Unfortunately for us all, you also have the penis of one. Therefore, after much soul-searching, I am forced into this awkward position.

Mister Windsor... would you care for a job?"

Carl just gawked at Genevieve, unable to comprehend what he had just heard. The words had registered, but he wasn't able to put them together into coherent thoughts as yet.

"A... job?"

"Yes, Mister Windsor, a job."