Curt Aldrich - Politician_s Teacher

The driver sneakily adjusted his rearview mirror and eyed the snooty blonde who was seated on the backseat of the limousine.

Twenty-two years old, she had hair the color of corn silk and perky, pointy breasts. She also had legs that looked as if they were made of taffy and went all the way up to here.

Phil Carpucci rubbed himself through his trousers and imagined he was sucking her tits. She would have light-pink nipples; girls of her coloring always did. Her nipples would be rigid, and her young titties would vibrate firmly against his face as he sucked them and she squirmed.

He also would do other things with her, Phil fantasized as his penis grew hard in his pants. He would spread her candy legs wide apart and get right down between them. The hair along her slit would be nearly as pale and silken as the hair on her head, and the interior of her slit would be juicy and pink. Her entire crotch would be beautiful, including the dimple located to the rear of her pussy, snuggled between the pale, rounded cheeks of her ass. Phil would kiss her all over. His hard-on throbbed.

Melanie Jones caught the driver looking lust-fully at her, and a pinkness suffused her fair cheeks.

The dirty man! she thought. He's undressing me with his eyes. I can practically feel him lifting my skirt and stroking me along the pantyhose. I'll bet he would like to get between my legs and…

NO! I won't think, about such nasty things!

She turned her bead and looked out the window at the luxurious estates that were gliding past. It would be very good to live and work in one of those, she thought, as she looked forward to her first job as a private tutor.

The nude, hairy man stood behind a curtained window and gazed down at the circular driveway where his limousine came to a stop.

"Shit, she's here already," he grumbled.

"What does she look like?" his brunette wife inquired from the bed.

"Can't see her yet. But she's probably a dried-up old crone with her hair in a bun.

"I hope not," said the reclining woman who wore black panties. "Scotty should have a more attractive female than that to teach him about life."

"I'm not hiring her to be the kid's lover, for Christ's sake!" Linc Townsend said as he scratched himself. "She's just going to teach him English and Arith… "

As Melanie's long golden legs extended from the car, Linc stopped talking. As she stepped out, he pursed his lips. As she began to walk to the door of the mansion, the mounds on her chest jiggling, he whistled.

"Well, what is it?" his wife, Beatrice, asked as she sat up, her big breasts swooping to settle in voluptuous roundness.

"She's a fox!" Linc said with a grin.

"Ooooh?"

"Shit, yes!"

With a grin still plastered to his ruggedly handsome face, the dark-haired man strode across the room, his long cock swaying, and snatched a robe from the closet. Not bothering to put on anything else, he left the bedroom and loped downstairs.

"Miss Jones?" he asked as he approached Melanie in the entry hall. The maid withdrew.

Melanie looked at her prospective employer for the first time and liked what she saw, except for his casual state of attire. She didn't consider that appropriate, though it was only nine o'clock in the morning.

Women usually took to Linc at first glance. Perhaps it was because of his bigness, his extreme masculinity, or his outgoing grin, or it was a combination of all these attributes that impressed them. It didn't seem to matter that he was forty-three years old. The fact that he was quite wealthy helped.

"Good morning, Mr. Townsend!" Melanie said, and smiled.

He took her hand. "Well, well! I didn't expect anyone so young and lovely!"

"Thank you," she replied. "But I thought that you knew my age. The agency said… "

"Yes, of course. They must have informed me. But I've been so busy these days, getting ready to run for the governorship and all."

"You are running for governor?" Melanie asked, surprised and impressed.

"The official announcement hasn't been made yet, so don't let the word get out," Linc said with a twinkle in his warm brown eyes. "But that's why I'm hiring a tutor for my son. Otherwise I would just let him stay in the academy he's been attending. I'll be traveling around the state, and I want him with me on the campaign. It will be very educational for the lad, don't you think?"

"Yes, I should think it would be."

"Well!" Linc grinned again. "Let's step into the library. I have a contract prepared."

The business part of the interview passed quickly, and Melanie became more enthused by the moment. Working for a gubernatorial candidate-and perhaps the governor himself, if he was elected-would be very exciting. She would practically be part of the state's official family!

She crossed her legs as she sat opposite the handsome, amiable man, and her skirt skidded well above her knees. He looked at her legs, but not lecherously as the chauffeur had done. This man was smooth. Really nice, Melanie thought.

"You have beautiful legs!" he said, changing the subject abruptly. "You should wear stockings and a garter belt instead of pantyhose. Pantyhose are anti-erotic, you know."

She colored. "H-how do you know what I'm wearing?"

"Well, you are wearing pantyhose, aren't you? Most young women do nowadays. And I don't see any stocking tops."

Embarrassed, she tugged at her skirt. "Yes, I am wearing pantyhose. Are stockings and a garter belt required on this job?"

"Don't be silly." Linc smiled. "What you wear is your own business, of course. It just happens that I prefer conventional stockings and garters on pretty legs."

He stood. "Well, if you would like to sign the contract, you can begin today."

It had all happened very quickly, and Melanie was thrilled. She forgot about her new employer's interest in her under things, which didn't seem important. She signed the contract.

"I'll show you to your room," Linc announced. "Then Phil can drive you home and you can pick up your belongings… unless you happened to bring them with you, of course."

"Well, no, I didn't," Melanie said. "I didn't want to assume anything."

"You're a rather modest girl, aren't you?"

She colored again. "Yes, I suppose you could say that."

"It's not bad," Linc said quickly. "In fact, the trait is appealing. And surprising, also, in a young woman of such beauty and poise! Evidently your parents didn't spoil you."

"My father is a clergyman, so I had a rather strict upbringing."

"Aaaaaah." Linc let the young woman precede him upstairs, and he watched the sensuous undulation of her bottom, the flashing of her silken-sheathed legs. He moved ahead of her in the hallway, his hairy legs splitting the front of his robe as he strode to the room she was to have.

"You see? Bright and sunny!"

"Yes!" Melanie said, smiling as she looked around. "It's lovely!"

"You won't be here very long, however, because the campaign will begin shortly and we'll be moving about this big state-you, my son, my wife, and I. Uuh, Miss Jones… "

"Yes?" She blinked her blue eyes.

"Incidentally, you won't mind if I call you Melanie, I hope?"

"As my employer, I think that you have that privilege," she replied.

"I hope so. Melanie… there is one additional duty, over and above your teaching, that I will expect you to discharge."

"What is it?"

Linc stepped to the door and eased it shut. "It concerns my wife. She is, well, a bit unconventional in some of her activities. I will want you to keep an eye on her for me."

Melanie blinked again.

"Now, it's nothing to get excited about," Linc went on. "I'm not asking you to become a spy. Just stay as close to my wife as you can and, uh, let me know if she gets involved in anything that might embarrass me in the campaign."