It was a grey, cloudy Tuesday morning. A typical morning in London during its bleak, chilling winter.
George Styleson's heavy footsteps echoed along the quiet corridor. He shivered as the chilling cold penetrated his thick winter coat and he breathed out a puff of icy air. 'Got to get that damn heating back on,' he thought to himself.
He stopped outside the oak door with the number 9 sticking to the glass panel. He breathed in … and out; mentally preparing himself for the day ahead. It would be as normal a day as any as far as he could tell – but when you're 55 with health problems and a whore of a wife who could be in bed with anyone, man or woman, while you're hard at work to support her, it all becomes unbearably difficult and undeniably pointless.
George stared lazily at the door. The door he had walked through countless times for countless years. Each time he walked through the door, work started, as did the countdown to the end of it – when his wife would do all she can to disguise the smell of her passionate acts with the plumber, or the hairdresser.
All he could think about as he gripped the brass door knob to cross the threshold of his obtuse labour was who she could be with today; which master or mistress she was no doubt enjoying at that moment. Maybe a neighbour? Maybe someone George didn't even know. Maybe there was more than just one at a time –
'Yes,' sighed George, turning to face his beloved secretary.
'You have a visitor, Sir.'
George flung his suitcase through the open door into his room and glanced at his watch. 'Now?' he asked, appalled.
'I'm afraid so, Sir,' she replied, apologetically.
George sighed. The official time to begin work hadn't even begun and he was already more stressed than he could cope with. Maybe it was a lover of his wife come to apologise and plead for forgiveness?
'I think so, Sir. I saw his car.'
'Yes, Sir. A Jaguar XJ – diplomatic plates.'
George sighed again, knowing this wouldn't be easy. He'd dealt with people like this before. Before he begun thinking carefully about how to deal with this unexpected, unwanted visitor, George demanded his usual coffee.
'Right away, Mr. Styleson. Black?'
'As always, Brenda.'
She flashed him a gorgeous smile. He attempted (but failed) one back. His eyes fell downwards towards her rear as she walked to the coffee machine. He admired its perfect shape swinging to and fro, rhythmically. His eyes were then drawn down her black stockings to her high heeled shoes. As she turned to make his coffee, so did her feet.
His mouth started salivating at the sight of her ten perfect round toes pointing through. George wanted no more than to pull the stocking off with his teeth and to suck them till he passed out. He wanted those perfect feet wrapped round his cock until he came all over them.
He was so hypnotised he didn't realise her looking up at him. He was shocked as he looked into her eyes. All he could see was – lust.
She dropped the coffee cup to the floor, the boiling black substance staining the floor. George grinned as he knew that wouldn't be the only stain on the floor.
She walked towards him, seductively, slowly, her eyes never leaving his. His eyes went down to her breasts and once more to her feet.
Her hands went to her blouse and she slowly started to unbutton it. He felt blood running into his penis and felt it rising quickly as she gazed into his eyes. She looked down.
“Looks like someone's waking up now. Guess you might not need that coffee,” she said.
“No?” George replied, hoping she was going to do what he thought.
“I know something better.”
Before he knew what happened she was on her knees, her hands fumbling for his dick. In a second she was sucking his penis; hr saliva coating his thick, pulsing manhood. He could feel his orgasm rising in just seconds. He hadn't had relief in days, since his wife was almost always exhausted. He looked down and she looked up into his eyes, lovingly, her head bobbing up and down as fast as lightning.
“Uuuugghhhhhhh” he exclaimed. “I'M CUMMING!!!!!!!” With that, he closed his eyes and his cum shot to the back of her mouth. Her eyes widened. She let his cock go from her mouth and swallowed the whole load.
“Any time,” he replied, panting.
“You know … I'm not sure I want coffee anymore. I'd rather your version of coffee.”
With that she undid her blouse and ripped her bra off.
George needed no more encouragement. Without thinking he grabbed each breast, massaging them quickly and licking the nipples lovingly. His left hand creeped lower and lower until he reached her pubic region. As he lifted her skirt he realised she wore no panties.
“For you, darling.” She grinned. George kissed her passionately as he fingered her shaved pussy. She moaned into his mouth before breaking the kiss.
“FUCK YEAH FUCK YEAH OH FUCK FUCK I'M CUMMMMING!!!!!”
George wasted no time. He got down there and lapped at the cum erupting from her pussy. He carried on licking her clit, her moans filling the room until she calmed down.
“Anything else you want, Sir?” she asked.
George didn't even bother answering. He carried on kissing down her leg until he got to her shoe. He licked her toes and she giggled. “I guess there is.” She relaxed as he took off her shoes and kissed each toe and sucked the foot as a whole, fitting every toe in his mouth.
She took her feet away from him and took all her clothes off, expect her stockings. George followed suit, his cock already standing ready.
She sat back down and offered him her legs. He grabbed the stocking with his teeth and pulled them off of each leg and admired her pink painted toes. He kissed them and kissed up to her pussy as he felt her feet stroking his thighs, making their way towards his cock.
The arches of her feet gripped his cock tightly and started rubbing it.
George leant back and moaned. “God that feels good. Yes yes keep rubbing.”
He looked down and saw her flawless feet pumping his cock, stopping occassionally for her to rub her toes over his head. George couldn't hold it much longer. He grabbed her feet and fucked them as hard as he could until he came as much as he could all over her feet.
She grinned at him. He grinned back.
“That showed your bitch of a wife,” she said.
“I'd say,” said a voice to the back.
George and Brenda turned, shocked, to see his important visitor standing there, his hands in his trousers.
“Up for round two?” he asked.
To be continued if there's positive feedback …