Haziran 19, 2024

Local Affairs (2): Beyond the Call of Duty

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New Zealand weather is notoriously changeful, and by the time Greg awoke on Saturday morning it had completely changed from the previous day’s torrential rain that had played a part in precipitating his sexual encounter with Andrea Hemsley. It was a glorious Christchurch summer morning, and brilliant sunshine already flooded the kitchen as he pottered preparing his breakfast of coffee and toast, his head still full of memories of her. It was not just her awesome sexuality that preoccupied him. What he found most difficult to get his head around was that the vibrantly sexy, dirty-talking woman who had unleashed such a voracious sexual appetite on him, the woman who had discussed plans for her neighbourhood park with such intelligent articulacy, and the dowdy-looking middle-aged community activist who had made such an annoying fuss at that public meeting, were all one and the same person. It wasn’t just the combination of sexiness and intelligence that perplexed him – that was something he felt fortunate to have found in most of the girls and women he had dated. Nor, up to a point, was age in itself an issue: his last girlfriend Liz was 29, and some of his partners (he always thought of them as partners, not as conquests) had been as much as 10 years older than himself. A woman old enough to be my mother… Even as he winced at the cliché, he recognised that it expressed much of why he was finding it hard to come to terms with what had happened. It carried the uncomfortable truth that he would never be able to look at his divorced mother in the same way again. His boss’s words – an old girl like her will feel quite touched and flattered – echoed in his brain again. Phil would be expecting a report on his meeting with Andrea, and the report he presented would have to be one that gave no hint that his interaction with her had been anything other than professionally correct. Quite apart from whatever might happen this afternoon with Andrea and Sarah… He could imagine Phil commenting, rather disapprovingly, that working on a Saturday afternoon was going way beyond the call of duty… She had his cellphone number, and there was a text from her: Come (sp?) for lunch. 1-ish. No need to bring anything, just yourself, but if you can spring for some nice wine that would go down well. Just come round to the back of the house – we’ll be in the garden. No need to dress up. Axxxxx. Her humorous spelling query left nothing to the imagination. He texted back: OK 😉 * * * As a token gesture towards what had been the pretext for the afternoon’s meeting, Greg tossed his briefcase into his escort beylikdüzü car before setting off. He drove first to his local liquor store, where he picked up a well-chilled bottle of Veuve Clicquot, then headed across town to the suburb where Andrea and Sarah lived. Barefoot in sandals, wearing a short-sleeved open-necked shirt, khaki shorts and an Australian-style broad-brimmed hat, and with the top of his old BMW Cabriolet folded down, he enjoyed the sensuous feel of the sun and the breeze on his skin, and he wondered what Andrea and Sarah would be doing, and wearing, when he caught up with them. On arriving, he was surprised by the size of the back garden, which was large enough to accommodate a brick patio and a modest-sized swimming pool. Andrea and a trimly built brunette were reclining on deckchairs on the patio; between them, a sturdy circular table housed the base of a wide umbrella whose shade covered them both. On the table stood an ice bucket containing an opened champagne bottle, whose contents the two women were sipping from slender flutes. As they rose and turned to greet him, he could see that their slip-on sandals, straw hats, sunglasses and white terry-cloth robes were all that they were wearing. He immediately recognized Andrea’s companion as having been sitting next to her at the public meeting, wearing a charcoal-grey jacket and with a bright red beret sitting pertly aslant atop a mop of curls. “Hi there!” Andrea called out; then, to her companion: “Look at him, Sarah: briefcase in one hand and champers in the other! Talk about mixing business with pleasure…” Sarah stood back while Andrea placed a relatively chaste kiss on his cheek and received one in return, then stepped forward with her right hand formally extended. “I’m Sarah Middleton,” she introduced herself, in a beautiful, cut-glass British accent. “So pleased to meet you. Andrea’s told me about the meeting she had with you yesterday. I gather it was quite, er, productive.” She said it all with a completely straight face; the humour was all in the I-couldn’t-possibly-comment way she delivered the words. He felt himself blush, at which Sarah’s straight face broke up into a wickedly gleeful grin. She was still holding his hand, and instead of releasing it she pulled him towards her, slipping her other arm round his neck and pulling his face down to hers. “Got to break the ice, eh?” she murmured, pressing her full-breasted body against him and kissing him full on the mouth. “Hey, watch it, girl,” Andrea protested humorously. “I saw him first!” “Of course escort akbatı you did, darling – I’m just endorsing your excellent taste! Goodness, he kisses nicely too, doesn’t he? And I hear that’s not all…” The two women giggled, and Greg was struck by the warmth of the banter between them, not minding in the least the novel experience that it was him they were bantering with each other about. Andrea picked up the ice bucket. “I’ve got lunch ready in the dining room, she said. “Let’s eat, drink and talk inside. A proper working lunch, eh? We can put your bottle in the fridge until we need it, Greg. Ah – the Widow Clicquot – one of my favourites!” She took the bottle from him, stowed it in the fridge, then disappeared into her bedroom, reappearing with a third robe like those she and Sarah were wearing. “Get your kit off, young Greg, and put this on. That’ll put us all on equal terms, sartorially speaking.” Lunch turned out to be a delicious chicken salad preceded by chilled mushroom soup and followed by peaches and ice-cream – all accompanied by champagne. And the talk was initially brisk and business-like – discussing the plans for the neighbourhood park hadn’t been entirely a pretext after all. . It turned out that Sarah knew Greg’s colleague Heather Ashby, who had led the design team that prepared the council’s proposed plan. “We landscape people are a bit of a professional mafia,” Sarah said. “And in fact Heather was one of my students. I supervised her postgrad work. She’s good – very capable, very professional. Lovely woman, too, don’t you think, Greg?” “Oh yes,” agreed Greg, who had long lusted in vain after Heather, and whose ears pricked up at a caressing note that he sensed had crept into Sarah’s voice as she spoke of his colleague. There flashed before his mind’s eye a vision of the two women kissing passionately. “I’ve actually had a bit of a chat with her,” Sarah went on, “and I think when she sees what you and Andrea worked out between you she’ll be happy to go along with it. And if Heather’s OK with it, there shouldn’t be a problem with Ellen Levitt; those two are just like this!” She hooked her two little fingers together and held them up intertwined. “Is that right?” Greg murmured. “Oh indeed. You’d be surprised. But you didn’t hear that from me, OK? “Yeah, sure…” Greg hoped he had been able to disguise the discomfort he felt at this hinted-at revelation; close personal relationships between staff and elected council members were strictly a no-no. He was relieved when the conversation moved on. Lunch left them pleasantly escort beylikdüzü replete but not uncomfortably overfull. Andrea stood up and slipped off her robe, revealing again the magnificent body and voluptuous breasts that Greg had come to know so intimately. “How about we clear away the lunch things and have a post-prandial dip in the pool?” “Perfect, darling.” Sarah too disrobed, giving Greg his first full view of her full but firm breasts and her toned body, eyebrow-height to Andrea, at the juncture of whose shapely thighs a pair of luscious lips pouted prettily. As Greg also took off his robe, he was immediately aware of Sarah turning her eyes towards him, looking suddenly lustful. “Ooh, Andy darling, I see what you mean about that cock,” she cooed. “Sorry about the dishes and stuff, but I just have to have a play with it right now!” Almost before he knew it, she had seized him by the hand, dragged him into Andrea’s bedroom, pushed him down on the bed, and was devouring his cock as eagerly, noisily and skilfully as Andrea had done the day before on this same bed, muffled mewing, cooing and gobbling noises mingled with the salivary slurping of her lips and tongue. While the fingers of one of Sarah’s hands played with his hardened shaft and his balls, Greg could see that her other hand was busily engaged between her other, lower lips. Presently she changed hands and lubricated his bulging cock-head with her own juice before again engulfing it in her mouth. Now she began to deep-throat him, taking in the whole of his cock and then sliding it out again to tease its tip with her whipping, lashing tongue. “Shit, Sarah, I’m getting bloody close!” “Me too…” Her voice was rasping and breathy with her own arousal. She got up and repositioned herself astride him. “Let’s finish with a fuck, OK? I want you to cum in my cunt.” Not even this degree of sexual excitement disturbed the crystalline perfection of her British vowels. So saying, she impaled herself on his cock, gripped his shoulders with her hands, and began to ride him at a pace that soon increased to a gallop, moaning and grunting furiously, until her hips made a final lunge and she froze, transfixed and trembling, her vagina convulsing, a cascade of cum pouring out of her, a long-drawn-out shuddering wail of ecstasy filling his ears and pushing him over the edge into his own shattering orgasm. She collapsed on top of him, her body racked with aftershocks, her vagina clenching and relaxing around his wilting organ. “Gosh, you two…” Andrea was standing in the doorway, her face, neck, shoulders and the tops of her breasts aglow with a flush of sexual excitement. “That cock has well and truly had an after-lunch dip, hasn’t it? You can’t imagine what a wonderful wank I had just listening to the pair of you. Make room there: I’m coming to join you!” “Oh yes darling, please.” Sarah moaned.

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