“What the hell? It’s not every day I start off like this.” And having resigned herself to enjoy the cucumber’s caress, Eleanor reclined on her side, one hand behind her guiding Mr. Q, while she alternately watched the raindrops sliding down the window glass and closed her eyes.
After she’d enjoyed her eye-opener, Eleanor removed the cucumber and rolled off the bed, gasping as her hips found a cold, wet spot on the sheet.
“Jesus Christ! That’s why people don’t screw vegetables!” There was a large, clear spot in the middle of the sheet. She held up the veggie, inspecting it for a breach, but couldn’t find any source for the seepage. “That’s not all mine,” she insisted, glaring at the vegetable. “You’d better not have left any seeds in me, mister!”
Cleaning up, she saw no signs of seeds, and was relieved. The vegetable was rinsed in the kitchen sink and placed outside the basket containing the other garden specimens. She stripped the bed, and began washing the sheets and pad, allowing the mattress to air out. Suspicious, she leaned over the area and sniffed, expecting… she didn’t know what, but only a fresh, cucumber fragrance greeted her nose.
Once she was on her feet and doing chores, Eleanor began plotting out the day, a nervous energy fueling her need to make up for unproductive time. But something stopped her in her tracks. A sense of calm and well-being washed over her, through her.
Screw chores, she decided. What’s the point of being your own boss if you’re going to boss yourself around?
Eleanor decided to enjoy an extra cup of coffee. In fact, she dug out an espresso machine she hadn’t used in years, along with a special blend she’d stashed away, and brewed a special treat for herself. When it finished, she took her cup outside, sat on the porch, and watched the rain. She was naked under her robe, but who gave a shit? It felt good. Eleanor felt completely relaxed, as if she were on vacation. Relaxed and horny.
Why can’t I feel like this every day? Why do people push themselves so hard, instead of enjoying the fruits of their labor a little more? And I’m as guilty as anyone! It’s insane!
The sound of an approaching truck stirred her from her thoughts, but even as its tires chewed on the gravel in her drive, she remained calm.
I’m sure I’m not the first woman he’s seen sitting in her robe before. Still, she lowered her legs from the railing and sat up straight, tugging the hem toward her knees.
“Good morning, ma’am,” the driver said, a large, flat box under his arm, his bulging biceps bared by his rolled-up short sleeves. His smile was a dazzling construction of square jaw and even rows of gleaming teeth. His wavy dark hair and boyish good looks reminded her of those upperclassmen she’d crushed on as a college frosh. Tall and lean in his khaki uniform, she knew she couldn’t be the only female customer whose pulse quickened when his truck pulled up. He set the box down against the wall and stood for a moment, looking out at the steady sprinkle.
“Well, those must be my bed covers,” Eleanor said. “For my garden beds,” she clarified.
“I’ve got one more box in the truck,” he said.
“Are you sure that’s all you’ve got for me?” she asked nonchalantly, languidly rubbing her chin with her hand.
“Yes, ma’am, just the one box.”
“Well, catch your breath, if you need to; I’m not in a hurry. So, are you new, or did I just not notice you before?” He was a good-looking, young man with a healthy build.
“Yeah, I am new. I’m Darrell,” he said, holding out his hand.
Eleanor shook his hand and held it. “And I’m Eleanor. Pleased to meet you, Darrell. Could I offer you a coffee?”
Darrell hesitated before responding, looking out at the rain, then giving Eleanor’s robe-clad frame a once over. She could see his eyes narrow as his brain calculated the potential risks and benefits involved.
“Well, it is kind of a slow morning ‘cause of the rain.” He blew on his hands. “A coffee would be nice, if it’s no trouble.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if it were any trouble,” she said, rising. The cool, damp air tingled on the exposed upper portion of her breasts. “Although you’d be worth getting into some trouble with, Darrell,” she smiled mischievously. “You go get my box and come inside. Coffee’ll be ready.”
I can’t believe I said that. What’s come over me? He knows and I know that I’m not offering him just coffee. Do I really want to do this? Am I ready for the consequences?
Yes, I do, and yes, I am.
Darrell knocked on the screen door before entering. “Right this way,” Eleanor said. She pointed to a kitchen chair, and leaned over as she poured his cup, giving him a good shot of her cleavage. She placed the empty carafe on the counter and walked back to where he sat.
“There’s your coffee, Darrell. Hot, wet and bitter, just like me.” She tugged on his jacket to turn him toward her and then sat on his lap.
“You don’t seem bitter,” he said, his arms sliding around her waist.
“Oh, I’m bitter, alright. We all are, bitter about something, us old gals. Bet you could sweeten me up some, though.”
Their mouths met hungrily, and Eleanor cradled his face in her hands, pulling him in closer. She ground her pelvis against his. The young man responded by loosening her sash and pulling her robe open. “Holy shit,” he muttered reverently, and then buried his face between her boobs.
Eleanor laughed and pulled his head in, shimmying so her titties slapped his cheeks good-naturedly. “Get those pants off,” she growled.
Darrell dropped his trousers and picked her up in his arms. She thought he was going to spear her in mid-air, but he deposited her on the counter, lined up his shot and took the plunge. They both groaned as he entered.
Arms around his shoulders, Eleanor rocked to and fro as Darrell heaved into her. His hands cupped her ass cheeks to stabilize and steer her, and his fingers squeezed at the soft flesh.
This is really good, she thought. Why have I not been doing this every chance I had? Maybe it wouldn’t have been this good if it had been regular. Well, regardless, it was worth the wait!
“Darrell, let’s try another position. I’ve always had this fantasy about being banged against the kitchen counter. Can we do that?”
“Sure,” Darrell agreed, and helped her onto her feet. “Like this?” he asked, turning her so she leaned over the counter.
“That’s it!” she smiled. Eleanor reached between her legs and took hold of his big, slippery cock and guided it into her puss. “Oh, that’s it! Oh, yeah. I imagine that I’m cooking, wearing an apron and a dress – nothing like dressing up when you cook, you know – and someone just sneaks up behind me, lifts my skirt, pulls my panties down and screws the snot out of me!”
“Uhhhh!” Darrel moaned.
Eleanor knew he wouldn’t last long. Pity the young ones look so good and cum so fast! Still, she showed him no mercy and shamelessly shook her ass as he thrust in her. Noticing her “special” cucumber nearby, she grasped it and brought it to her breasts. It was still emitting that warmth, and she secured it between her breasts, as if it were a cock, and slid it up and down between them. She even positioned it so the tip reached her mouth, and pushed the slippery cuke in and out of her mouth, imagining she was servicing another man as Darrell furiously screwed her from behind.
“Oh, my god! I’m gonna cum!” Darrell hollered, and grabbed Eleanor’s hips, rocking hard and fast as he unleashed. She felt an orgasm sneaking up on herself, as well. It wasn’t as strong as the one she and the cucumber had shared, but it was nice. Darrell leaned over her, panting and puffing, but finally pulled himself together and pulled up his pants.
“Coffee’s cold,” he grinned, but swigged it down anyway.
“Now, Darrell, just so you know, don’t be expecting this sort of welcome every time you make a delivery. I don’t know that this’ll ever happen again, so don’t assume, okay?”
“I understand, Eleanor. It’s okay; I’m married anyway.”
“Well, she�
�s a very lucky lady,” Eleanor smiled. She gave him a hug and a pat on the back as he left. This day is really turning out to be a doozy, she thought. I can’t believe I just seduced my delivery man! I’d feel guilty if it didn’t feel so damn good! As she turned to wash up, she spied the abandoned cucumber on the counter. Its silent presence somehow seemed resentful.
“It’s all your fault,” she scolded, “I was contented until you came along. Now you’re turning me into some sort of vegetable sex slave!” She grabbed the offending veggie and buried it under the others in the basket.
Chapter Four
By late afternoon, the rain had stopped and Eleanor was horny again. Extremely horny. So horny, in fact, that she decided to do something she hadn’t done in years, decades even: she was going to dress up, go into town, and offer herself to the first man who appeared capable of scratching her itch.
Eleanor fanned through her hanging clothes, and settled on a satiny, black blouse and a short denim skirt. She was afraid they might not fit, but they did; if anything, she’d lost weight since she last wore either. She dusted off a pair of black flats and stood before the mirror, unbuttoning the blouse till her cleavage was visible, stopping short of revealing the black bra beneath.
There was a tavern in town, but that was too obvious. Her hormones might be on a tear, but she wasn’t going to spend the remainder of her existence living in infamy. Small-town talk could bruise someone just as badly as a public stoning, and Eleanor would have none of it.
She sat at her vanity and applied some make-up. She tried to remember the last time she’d worn any, deciding it was most likely at Aunt Josie’s funeral. She brushed her hair and wondered what Shirley charged these days at her salon for a cut, or maybe even a tint. A spritz of perfume, and she was ready to prowl.
She parked across the street from the Regal. The Regal was one of those old-fashioned, stand-alone theaters built in the fifties. It had been closed for years before Chuck Lawson took it upon himself to renovate it and open it up again. Eleanor had always meant to stop by to see what he’d done with it, but never had. She was sure he was losing money, but you could tell that running the theater was a labor of love for Chuck. When his wife died about ten years ago, his devotion only increased.
It was 4:30. Showings began at the top of the hour. Eleanor had seen two teenagers buy their tickets just before 4:00. Five minutes later, Chuck exited the ticket booth. He was a one-man show, selling concessions, running the projector and sweeping the theater, every day except Monday. Eleanor felt a kinship with Chuck. They both worked to live and lived to work, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.
Main Street was nearly deserted. At five, the store workers would head home, creating what passed for rush hour in these parts. Eleanor’s timing was good. As she got out of her car and walked across the street, there wasn’t a soul in sight.
She pulled on the glass door and entered the lobby. The smell of fresh popcorn filled the air, a good smell, full of memories. And there was Chuck, dusting the glass top of the candy counter. He was a tall, handsome man with curly hair and a bushy mustache. Under the bright concession lighting, his face was radiantly flushed, contrasting with his starched, white shirt collar.
His powerful physique appeared better suited for a lumberyard or a shipping dock than behind a candy counter. She wondered how it would feel to run her fingers through those springy locks and how that thick mustache would feel grazing her lips or…elsewhere. When he looked up, his mouth fell open in surprise.
“Eleanor! I can’t believe it. How have you been?” His hand continued wiping the counter, but he looked spellbound as he gazed at Eleanor.
“Good. I apologize for not coming by sooner. This is a real sweet place you’ve got here, Chuck.”
“Thanks. It’s been a lot of work, but you know what? I’ve had a ball!”
“I’ll bet you have, Chuck,” Eleanor drawled. Her body felt like the lights outside bordering the marquee: hot, flashing and, she hoped, eye-grabbing. “What’s playing today?”
Chuck smiled sheepishly, still wiping in slow, deliberate circles. “It’s called ‘Aliens Invade.’ It’s not as bad as it sounds. It’s funny, in parts, and a little scary. They filmed it in Lubbock, from what I understand.”
Eleanor leaned over the counter as she scanned the treats, knowing she was giving Chuck an eyeful. “That’s real interesting, Chuck. When’s show time?”
There was no response. Looking up, Eleanor caught Chuck staring, mesmerized, at her cleavage. She smiled and his face turned beet red.
“I’m so sorry, Eleanor,” he said, trying to recover his composure. “The movie started at 4:10. You’ve missed almost a half hour.”
Eleanor made a pouty face, “Awww, really? That’s too bad.”
“If it were up to me, I’d stop the film right now and start it over, but I imagine the handful of customers I’ve got wouldn’t appreciate that.”
“Oh, you’ve got a handful inside, hmmm?” Chuck’s face seemed to be perspiring. “Well, that’s very nice of you to say. Would you really do that for me?”
“Honest, I would,” Chuck croaked.
“Do you ever come out from behind that counter?” Eleanor teased.
Chuck looked like he’d been blinded by a bright light, not understanding at first. Then he grinned, nervously, put down the rag, and walked apprehensively around the counter.
“There you are!” she laughed, “Let me take a look at you.” Chuck stood still as her eyes swept over his crisp white shirt, red vest and black bow tie, slacks and shoes. “You look so handsome in your uniform.”
“You look great yourself, Eleanor.” He tried to elaborate, but words failed him, so he just repeated, “Great!”
Eleanor moved toward him, stopping when they were toe-to-toe, and looked up. “Maybe I should come back later,” she said softly, “But what if I’m the only customer? Would you still run the film just for me?”
Chuck swallowed, “Ab…absolutely, Eleanor. I’d be glad to give you a private showing.”
She smiled and leaned closer, her breasts brushing against him.
“I’d like it better if you showed me your privates!”
Chuck couldn’t believe his ears, but Eleanor emphasized the last word by inserting her hand between his legs and cupping his genitals firmly, but gently.
He leaned down and kissed her hard and long, as she continued fondling him. His hands squeezed her ass, pulling her closer.
Eleanor broke the kiss, laughing, and took his hand, leading him up the velvety stairs toward the balcony. She knew he was taking in her tanned thighs, maybe even her panties. Near the top, she stopped and turned around. Chuck stood several stairs below. Eleanor sat on the stair facing him and spread her legs.
“Here, take a good look, Chuck.” Chuck looked uncertain, so Eleanor leaned forward and grabbed a handful of shirt. “Come on, you know you want to!”
Chuck crouched on his knees and stared reverently, mouth open, taking in Eleanor’s smooth inner thighs and the thin strip of black satin that hid her womanhood. Fingers coiled through his curly hair and guided his head lower and lower until….
“Oh, yes!” she hissed. Chuck’s bristly mustache preceded his warm, wet tongue, providing an interesting contrast in textures. Once his tongue extended inside her, his mustache brushed over her clit in an unexpected and delightful way.
“Faster,” she whispered urgently, “Faster! Ooh, right there! Yes!” Eleanor couldn’t leave it to chance, and fastened her hands on his ears, pressing his face exactly where she wanted it. She knew it wasn’t very ladylike, but she bucked and rubbed rudely up and down the length of his face, allowing him to breathe only when she’d finished.
“That was so good,” she confided. Once she caught her breath, Eleanor held out her hand and Chuck helped her stand. She crept toward the balcony door, holding her finger to her lips. A sign on the door read BALCONY CLOSED. The two slid through the door opening as inconspicuously as possible, set
tling in the back row seats. They necked like teenagers, driving each other crazy with lust. Chuck unbuttoned Eleanor’s blouse and fondled her tits beneath her bra, while Eleanor unzipped Chuck and squeezed his erection through his shorts.
Fearful that Chuck would blast off in his pants, Eleanor freed his hard cock and opened her mouth, taking more than half his cock in one gulp. This was no time for subtlety or teasing; she knew he needed to cum, and she was going to accommodate him. Her tongue glided smoothly along the underside of his cock while her wet lips sucked tightly around the shaft. She could already taste traces of him along the roof of her mouth.
Within seconds, generous dollops of thick cum glopped on her tongue and in the back of her throat. She moaned approvingly, wanting all of it, and Chuck obliged. He held the back of her neck as he moved in her mouth, hoping he wasn’t being too rough. He looked down and she stared back as she swallowed. He thought she might have been smiling, but it was hard to tell with her mouth distorted by his cock.
“Take cover! The aliens have landed! Lock your doors!” Eerie, suspenseful music blasted from the speaker system, and Chuck and Eleanor knew they could exit the balcony with the patrons unaware of their comings and goings.
Chuck escorted her into the projector room. His pants were tangled around his ankles, and his stiff boner wobbled in the air. “Double feature?” he asked.
“How do you want me?” Eleanor replied, not missing a beat.
Chuck collapsed in a swivel chair and Eleanor straddled him, sinking down until she had all of him inside her. She pulled off her blouse and bra, and pressed her breasts against his face. Chuck suckled at her orbs while holding her ass cheeks. The chair rocked back and forth, allowing for an effortless, though still intense, in-and-out.
“Don’t they call this the cowgirl position?” Eleanor asked, before erupting in laughter, “Oh, and could we turn off that overhead light, Chuck?”
Chuck pushed off with one foot and sent the chair and its occupants rolling across the floor. Eleanor flipped the switch off. Now only the projector light beaming into the darkness provided illumination. “That was fun,” she said, “Can we do it again?”
The Alien and The London Escort Page 6