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The Thankless Job

For the twenty-forth workday in four weeks, I was working and cursing my boundless stupidity in taking on the job of building a downstairs bedroom and bathroom suite for the Jaminsons' multi-million dollar home. Hell, I was in my early sixties. I had retired in my fifties from the electronics industry with a small fortune. I was going to enjoy life and keep it simple. Granted my wife of twenty-five years didn't want that so she soon left me and took half of my small fortune. Still I had no reason to work like this and put up with the endless, baseless complaints of Jon Jaminson's bored beautiful late twenties trophy wife.

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After my divorce I visited my youngest son in Portland. He was having trouble getting ahead and was the only family member who really cared about me. For something to do, I stayed and started building him a simple house so he could get out of apartment living and build some equity. Turned out I was good at building and built quite a good business and reputation over the next years. I always built for myself, on spec and my houses were always sold before completion until the current economic down turn. Jon Jaminson was a big wig on the West Coast for Coca Cola. I had met him at a business awards dinner and liked him instantly. Somehow, he had convinced me to build his dream suite. I told him how I worked and he had promised and promised that I would be left alone to work at my own pace, with my own people and build the quality product that I interpreted from his blueprints.

I remember his words, “Rod, Britney and I will not even be there until the work in completed. We have other homes and will be staying on the East Coast through the summer and fall.”

“Ok, Jon, I just wanted to make it clear that I've never done construction for anyone except myself. Like you, I'm use to doing things my way, not having people look over my shoulder and I do not need the money.”

By the time I started the project, Britney and Rod had had some problems and only she was staying at the house. She is the kind of woman who would get out of the shower to go pee. She came from money, went to finishing school, got a degree from daddy's alma mater, had never held a job and had never done house work. The hired help do not like her because she is bitchy and bored. God is she beautiful though. Flowing red hair, 5'6″, 130 pounds of natural 35, 23, 35, perfectly manicured and exudes sex.

Britney had taken to daily invading “my space” to give me suggestions, offering redesign ideas, complaining about the mess and taking away any pleasure I had in the job. She would stand in the way and talk incessantly in her practiced condescending tones. One day I was the only one on the job site and was constructing the 6'x6' copper pan base for the walk-in shower. The room was just roughed out in studs with exposed plumbing and temporary supporting straps.

“This is shabby work. Look at all these loose straps. Do you know what you are doing? What am I paying you for such crap?”

On and on she went. Finally, I had had enough. While Britney rattled on I picked up three fifteen-inch long zip-ties. She was so surprised when I grabbed her left wrist and zipped it to an open stud; she froze long enough for me to do the same to her right wrist on the adjacent wall.

“What are you doing you asshole?”

I just knelt down, pushed her right ankle to the same stud that her right wrist was zipped to and fastened it to the stud also.

She was screaming at me now. “Untie me this instant. What are you doing? I'll ruin you.”

Her eyes widened and had fear in them when I stuffed my cleanest handkerchief into her mouth. It smelled of construction adhesive.

I was still holding her face in my rough hand when I stood and pushed her tight to the open studs with my body and stared down into her eyes. “Listen, Little Girl. I'm the best at this there is. I'm going to build you the best bedroom suite in the city. You'll be able to show off to all your rich friends. Just stay quiet, stay out of my way and you will love the results.”

She struggled and still looked arrogant through her fear and watery eyes.

“Little Girl, there is just you and me here. Your word against mine. I don't need this job and would be happy for you to fire me.”

My cock was responding and she could feel it hardening as my hips pressed hard against her belly.

The arrogance melted from her eyes. Something else was there but I could not place it. She quit struggling.

“Do we have an understanding?”

She nodded, “Yes.”

I retrieved a set of dykes and said, “Good, now leave me alone and let me do my work so you will have a beautiful bathroom to bathe that beautiful body of yours in.” I snipped the zip-tie on her left hand in time with my last word. Then I released her ankle and then her right hand. She took the handkerchief from her mouth and handed it to me.

For my own enjoyment I slowly looked over her entire body, reached for the handkerchief and brought it to my nose and inhaled. “I'll bet other parts of you get as wet and sweet as your mouth.”

For the moment she was shocked and defeated. She stumbled past me. I did not see her the rest of the day or the next two days or the weekend.

On Monday, I had a big crew working. Someone had parked behind Britney's BMW sports car and she came into the work-area. “Mr. Thomas would you please have someone move the truck that is blocking my car? I have to go to a luncheon.”

“I'm sorry Mrs. Jamison. Yes, I'll have it moved immediately and can I give you both a compliment and a thank you.”

She looked puzzled but so very sexy and desirable. “Yes.”

“First, you are stunning today. The snooty old society bitties will be eating their hearts out when you show up.”

I waited for her blush and discomfort from my sincere compliment to have its full affect before I added, “And, thank you, for giving my crew and me the space to work for the last few days. By next week, I hope you will drop by and let me show you the progress we are making.”

“I would like that.”

She was off in a whirlwind – a little confused but back on her pedestal.

About two weeks later, Portland was having one of its few one hundred degree days. I had sent the crew home by three p.m. and was finishing clean-up before looking for my shirt and heading home for a much-needed shower. In white shorts, white sandals and a white blouse tied at the waist, Britney's tanned body and sun-glassed eyes brought an instantly sex-charged air into the half sheet-rocked suite.

“Mr. Thomas, you were right there has been a lot of progress.”

“Mrs. Jamison, please call me Rod. I'm glad you noticed. Let me show you around your two rooms.”

She was attentive as I told her about waiting for inspections, expected deliveries of granite, marble, tile and cabinetry. She noticed a fogged window.”

“You have a good eye. Yes, that arrived from the factory damaged. We installed it in hopes of putting in a temporary air conditioner. The new window is three weeks out.”

She was already starting to sweat in the heat. Her eyes went to the graying hair on my chest and she said, “You have a lean toned body for an …..”

“For an old guy, Mrs. Jamison? Thank you. That is why I do this – to tire my body out, have something to occupy my time and make beautiful rooms for beautiful women.”

She blushed again. “I'll bet you have lots of those in your life.”

“No, not now. Too busy to look.”

She stood closer than she needed to, extended her hand and said, “You are doing a beautiful job. Truce?”

“Thank you. Yes, truce.”

When I let go of her hand she ran it up through the sweat soaked hair on my chest and brought her fingers to her lips. Her tongue flicked out and tasted the wetness. “Hmmm, salty.”

I groaned, closed my eyes imagining touching her and said, “I've been told that several parts of me are salty and satisfying.”

Britney turned, sashayed her hips to the door, looked over her shoulder and said, “I bet they are.”

The next day was even hotter. By noon I was working alone in the suite with the French doors open onto the deck overlooking the pool. Britney walked out of the house to swim and sunbathe. She saw me watching her and walked over.

“Do you still see me as a “Little Girl,” Mr. Thomas?”

“Rod, Mrs. Jamison.”

She let her short robe fall to the dusty floor. Her yellow designer bikini was perfect. I looked directly between her legs for any sign of a hair. She had to be completely hairless.

“Well, Mr. Thomas, do I look like a “Little Girl”?”

I think my voice cracked when I answered, “No, Mrs. Jamison you look like a grown woman who would keep a man's senses on edge for a lifetime.”

“Your senses, too, Mr. Thomas?”

“Yes, Mrs. Jaminson, especially, my senses.”

She swayed her hips with her hands hanging loosely at her sides, “Which senses, Mr. Thomas?”

“Mostly my taste buds, Mr. Jamison. I'm a very oral man.”

“Oh, I like that Mr. Thomas.”

With that she turned and walked to a chaise lounge by the pool and lay down to sun.

About an hour later I had everything wrapped up for the day and walked over to her. “Mrs. Jamison, I'm quitting for today. My crew and I will start again promptly at eight in the morning.”

“I thought you had already left.”

“No, I had to wait for my hardon to go down, Mrs. Jamison.”

Rod, please, call me Britney. If we are going to talk openly about being oral and having a hardon, we should be on a first name basis.”

“I'm not sure about that, Mrs. Jamison. It may be too one sided. I don't know your reaction or what Jon might say.”

“Jon and I are separated. He only needs his work. This will be only my house.”

“I was more interested in whether you were wet or not.”

She did not miss a beat. “I'm hot.”

“Sweaty and salty, you mean? Not turned on, oral or slippery under that tiny piece of yellow?”

“I don't know what you mean Mr. Thomas, or should I say Professor Thomas?”

“Little Girl, have you been checking up on me? For such insolence and teasing the teacher might have to discipline you.”

“What would the mean Old Professor make the Little Girl do?”

She was good at the verbal banter and teasing but I doubted that she was as wild as she was indicating. I leaned over her, casting a shadow on her eyes and body. When I pulled the strings on either side of her hips, she inhaled sharply and said, “The servants are in the house.”

“Don't they work for you?” With that I pushed a finger between the folds of her cleanly waxed pussy. She was wet. She opened her knees a little more and her clit popped into view. I added another finger. After four or five long smooth strokes into her, I put my thumb over her clit. I was still leaning over her. Just my one arm was hanging down so my fingers could explore.

Within thirty seconds, her hands came up and grasped my arm tightly. She sat partially up and her face was pressed to my bicep. She was racing toward a much-needed release. Her hips began to thrust and her tongue slipped out and began to lick at my sweaty skin. Another thirty seconds of my active fingers pressing into her g-spot and thrusting while my thumb rubbed her slippery juices in circles over her clit and she began to moan and tighten around my arm. Each time I withdrew my fingers, Britney's cunt nursed trying to suck them back deeper inside. When I obliged and pushed, her pussy's lips noisily squished juices down her thighs and onto the lounge. Beautifully, her body began to tremble and continued through one climax. I did not let her come down. Instead, I pushed her back, knelt at the foot of the chase, leaned over and sucked her clit while my fingers continued to thrust into her. Her legs rose, closed around my head and her hips bucked up against me. Her second climax was just as juice filled as the first. My face was flooded and my taste buds were soaring with her magnificent sweetness. One mighty growl signaled that she was finished for now, her hands held my head still wanting me to stop licking and fingering her. Reluctantly, I let her come down slowly. I watched her.

Soon her eyes popped open. They were sparkling and playful so I stood and said, “Take my cock out and return the favor.”

“I don't do that. Why should I?”

I leaned forward and closed one set of fingers and thumb over her left nipple and the other set over her clit. In time with my words I tightened my grips. “Because I told you to. Because you want to. Because I am going to make you. Because it is going to hurt even more if you don't.”

I doubt if she knew which hurt the most, her pinched nipple or her pinched clit. Her clit was still pulsing from her climax. She resisted just a moment and I pinched harder. A little whimper escaped as she sat up, reached for my zipper and deafly untwisted my cock from its prison. It quickly hardened to its full length and precum glistened across the helmet.

Britney had both hands on me and leaned forward. I could feel her taking the measure of me. Just before she pushed my helmet through her slightly closed lips, she licked at the tip, said, “Damn” and sucked me into her hot mouth.

Maybe she really didn't suck cock. I thrust gently into her mouth until she got the idea of using her mouth like her cunt. When I stopped she was bobbing her head onto me. Her tongue flicked around the ridge naturally. Twice she went too deep and gagged a little.

“Relax your throat and tongue, Little Girl. Swallow when my cock goes deep.”

She tensed when she slipped the tip of my cock barely into her throat for the first time. I groaned; so she repeated what she had learned. Deeper this time.

“Keep going, Little Girl. You are good at this and getting better. Put your hand on my balls or belly so you will know when I am close.”

I moaned and bragged on her for two more minutes, until I knew I could not take any more. “When I cum swallow every drop and keep sucking.”

She started to object, but chose to stay quiet when I put a hand gently on the back of her head and pulled at a handful of her hair.

Her rhythm was perfect. My first shot puddled in her mouth; my second, by her choice, was deep in her throat; the third was rewarded by feeling her swallow. I may have pumped more, I don't remember, I was struggling to stand, breathe and get my IQ above zero again.

When I could not take any more of her sucking, I pulled out of Britney's mouth with a loud pop and knelt down between her legs again. I hugged her sweaty body to me and kissed her. Her mouth tasted of my cum and I know she could taste her pussy on mine. She and I were quiet when I pulled back, wiped some extra cum from her chin and rubbed it on her breasts and belly.

“Thank you my beautiful, Little Girl. You are magnificent. An “A” student. With every cell in my body, I want to make love with you. To be inside of you and watch you cum. To watch your body fly and to please you. But I have to know you want that as much as I do.”

I got my wilting cock back into my pants and pulled Britney up. Hand in hand, she followed me, back into the new rooms, through the house and to the front door. She only had her bikini top on but was not worried about the hired help any more.

“Come to me tomorrow after I work and lead me into your shower. Let me be clean for you. Let me please you for hours.”

I thought she was enjoying the thought but she said, “I can't. I have to be gone all day.”

Could she be having second thoughts? “I understand Pretty One. If ever you want to, come to me.”

Britney started to speak. I put my fingers to her lips. “Go bathe now, Britney. Think about today. Your body knows what it wants; it told me. But with a man like me you will have to decide if you can submit to my desires and my drives. You cannot bully me. I will discipline you and fuck you into unconsciousness, if you try.”

Her body still had an afterglow about it when I closed the door behind me. Her posture had bristled at the word “submit” and her eyes showed distain when the word “discipline” was used. She had not thought things through yet.

Later in her bath, Britney would realize that she had asked for discipline and received it to learn to suck my cock. She would touch her tender tortured nipple and feel her pussy tingle and flow from remembering the pain she had felt. As she soaked, she would have to admit that she had submitted and liked it. With Rod there would be danger, risks and she would not be able to control the limits. That made her even wetter. She pushed two fingers into her pussy and rubbed her thumb around her clit, remembering how he had done it. What would he have her do? What would he do to her? Would it always be thrilling and pleasurable? She started to cum. When she thought, “Would it hurt?” she squirted into the warm bubble bath and trembled. She dozed off with the thought, “I have never trembled before today.”

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True to her word, Britney did not come to me on Thursday. She was not home all day. Friday, she was home for a while but still she did not come to me. The weekend and then the Monday holiday, she did not call or come to me. I'm too old to wait long. Her body was magical and her taste was worth years of my life. But she was not surrendering. It was too much of a change after twenty-nine years of being a spoiled princess.

On Tuesday, four guys and I were working the bath and bedroom of her new addition. I owed her a bill for a progress payment. The room would be a show place like I had hoped. About noon, a lovely, less than five-foot tall contortionist/stripper I know brought lunch for all of us. She was dating one of my crew. We had been an item for a short while and she still flirted mercilessly with me. When she left, she jumped into my arms, wrapped her legs around my waist and kissed me passionately. She rubbed my cock as she slipped out of my arms and whispered, “Remember me?”

I whispered back, “Yes, I do, Tina. It has been more than three years, but I still dream about positions to get that body of yours into and licking you until you scream.”

I noticed Britney watching from an upstairs window. Secretly, I hoped she was jealous. I should not have wished for that.

After my crew left, an uptight Britney cornered me, “How many women do you see at a time?”

“Little Girl, I've been waiting for you to come to me since last week.”

“Fuck you. I want you out of here. You are fired.”

“I've missed you too. I'll send you a closing bill, the blueprints and anything else that I have to help you get another contractor.”

“No, bring all that by tomorrow at four. I'll pay you off then.”

I did not like the sound of that but I was happy to be out of the drama. As I was ready to drive away one of the maids flagged me down. “Mr. Thomas, she goes crazy like this before her period each month. She has fired all of us before. We all like you and your crew. You are making everything so pretty. Please give her time. She will come around.”

“Thank you, Maria. No, I'm too old to put up with hormonal bitches again. If she is lucky, she will find someone to tame her.”

“You tamed her pretty good last week. We all watched from the window. You have a big dick, Mr. Thomas. I bet you really know how to use it. We all would like to see that.”

“Thanks again. Mrs. Jaminson is a beautiful young woman. I like her but she is too high maintenance for me. Tell everyone I said, “Goodbye”.”

I was running way early the next day and decided to try to drop everything off at three instead of four. A technical set-up TV crew was leaving, two cars were moved around the block and I saw three people go into the house. I waited until closer to four and called on my cell phone.

“Hello.”

“Mrs. Jamison, this is Rod Thomas. Are you still expecting me at four today?”

“Yes, I'm here alone waiting for you. I have your check.”

Updated: December 17, 2016 — 12:36 pm
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