Curt Aldrich - Politician_s Teacher

They sighed and clung to each other, breathing hard and sweating.

"You're terrific!" Linc said, and kissed her.

"And you're still the best fucker in the world!" Beatrice proclaimed.

They had, indeed, an excellent marriage.

"You don't have to come up," Melanie said to the pudgy, round-faced chauffeur who opened the car door and ogled her legs as she climbed out.

"But you will want me to carry your luggage, miss," he said.

He was right, the creep!

"Very well," she said, and let him follow her upstairs to the small apartment she had rented upon her arrival in the city and in which she had lived for less than a week, because she had found a position more quickly than she had expected.

Phil shut the door behind him after following her inside.

"Just, uh, sit down," she said a bit nervously. She had never had a strange man in her living quarters before. "Would you… like a cup of coffee or something?"

"Oh no, miss, thank you," Phil replied. He had watery, rather protruding eyes that suggested those of a puppy dog. He sat.

Melanie had to pee. That was embarrassing, with a man seated there in her combination living and bedroom. The sofa-bed was still open and rumpled, because she had left so quickly that morning.

"Excuse me, please," she murmured and retreated to the bathroom. She carefully locked the door from the inside.

She tingled a bit as she stripped down her panties and pantyhose and sat on the john.

It was really strange of Link Townsend to discuss her pantyhose, she reflected. Imagine him suggesting that she wear a garter belt and stockings instead! What business was it of his, for goodness sake, what she wore underneath her skirt so long as she kept her skirt down… which she certainly intended to do! Well, he was an outspoken, uninhibited man… not at all as she had imagined a politician might be. When the agency had sent her out on the interview, they had described him as a "wealthy socialite".

Finished pissing, Melanie lifted her bottom and wiped herself. She flushed the john, stood, and restored her clothing, then washed her hands.

She wasn't sure whether she was imagining it or not, but it seemed that the chauffeur looked at her strangely when she came out of the john. Had he been visualizing what she was doing in there, she wondered. The dirty man!

She tried not to look at him as she went about the business of packing though she had to carry everything past him in order to put it into her suitcases which she, had opened on the bed. Her panties, for instance. And her brassieres. And nighties. And pantyhose. The chauffeur saw them all.

He was watching her a lot, also. She could feel his eyes on her curvy bottom and on her legs and on the youthful thrust of her breasts as she stood silhouetted in front of him.

"I've worked for the Townsend's a long time," Phil finally said, the sudden declaration startling Melanie.

"Have you?" she responded in a tone of faint interest at best.

"Yes. If you want to get along with them, you've gotta get along with me."

Melanie could hardly believe she had heard correctly. She stopped what she was doing and glared at the plump little man.

A half-apologetic look came into his eyes, and he said quickly, "Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you! I wouldn't do anything you wouldn't like! Want me to show you what I mean?"

"NO!" Melanie exclaimed irately.

"It's what I do for Mrs. Townsend when she's in the mood."

Melanie took an interest. Perhaps this was something she should find out about and report, she thought, as part of her additional, miscellaneous duties.

"What do you do?" she inquired, almost afraid to know.

"I kiss her between the legs," the chauffeur said, his eyes bright though watery, a sly smile on his fat lips.

Melanie's pink lips parted, and color flooded her cheeks. She could scarcely protest, because she had asked.

"Can I do that with you?" Phil asked eagerly. "I won't tell anybody! I promise!"

Melanie felt a bit weak. Why she didn't immediately say no or even slap the filthy man's face, she didn't understand. But she just stared at him.

He jumped, up. "Please!" he begged. "You'll really like it!"

Kissed… between the… legs? she thought. By a chauffeur?

"Lie down… lie down!" he said quickly, interpreting her hesitation as acceptance.

She suddenly, unbelievably, found herself on her back on the bed, and the obnoxious little man was pulling her skirt up. She wanted to scream, but she was absolutely petrified by shocked fascination. The chauffeur had pulled the proposition on her so abruptly, and had so stunned her with it, that she just seemed to give in, like a bird hypnotized by a snake.

Down came her pantyhose and panties, exposing the puff of light blondeness on her mons. Then the awful man pulled her undies off… and spread her legs wide while he lifted them into the air.

"Oooooooooh!! Melanie moaned as she felt his face smack her soft pussy.

She began to kick… and squirm… and thrill crazily as she wondered:

Can this be ME?

Phil's four-inch penis throbbed rigidly in his pants as he licked like a lap-dog up and down the taut edges of the young blonde's cunt, which were lightly fuzzed. Then his tongue wiggled in between her pussylips and he licked her virginal twat! No man had even looked at it before, and this nasty fellow was licking it!

He thrilled to the faintly salty tang, and she was flabbergasted as he fluttered his eager tongue up and down across the tip of her clitty, turning her on so strongly that she felt like climbing the walls. What she did was to climb in mid-air, in a manner of speaking, by working her legs as she cooed raggedly and panted.

The chauffeur's tongue circled the tiny oval opening of her vaginal channel, and it throbbed so hard that she wanted to be fucked. She really WANTED it! If the fat little man had jumped on top of her right then and had split her maidenhead, she would have called him honey and hugged him, rocking up and down.

She came, flashing hotly… squealing… gasping… sighing from the tips of her toes. Then she let her legs drop against the bed as she felt blissfully relaxed. Phil raised his head, grinning foolishly, and she stared at him.

"You did like it!" he said proudly. "I told you that you would!"

He ripped open his fly, pulled out his peter, and began to stroke. Melanie pushed herself up on an elbow and stared at him. His small cock was a shocker after seeing Linc's horse like appendage. This one was more like she had first expected a penis to be-and it was stiff, ready to use. Her eyes went kind of glassy as she watched the chauffeur stroke it in his plump fist, rolling some loose skin up and down on it, which Linc hadn't seemed to have.

"Uuuuuuh!" he said promptly, and milky stuff spurted from the tip of his quivering, rosy-red organ. It dropped onto the rug.

"Oooh, my goodness!" Melanie, cried, finally finding her voice.

"Thank you, thank you!" the chauffeur said. "Ooh, thank you so much!"

He lifted one, of her feet and kissed each of her rosy-nailed, delicate toes.

To Melanie, the whole incident had been like watching a movie, except she was a part of it. She had never seen a movie like that, anyway!

"You'll have to clean it up!" she exclaimed, trembling as she pointed at the mess on the rug. "Ooh, heavens! Where are my pants and' things?"

After stuffing his penis back into his clothes, the chauffeur produced her panties and pantyhose, all wound up together, and he quickly separated them.

"Let me keep your panties!" he begged, and pressed the white nylon undergarment to his face. He inhaled deeply several times while Melanie stared in amazement.

"Keep them!" she said, shuddering and shutting her eyes. "Yes, oh God, keep them!"