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Open House

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“Hello Carly, my name is Mr. Johnson. I’m calling in regards to your listing on Maple Drive. I’m prepared to make an offer based on the description online, but I do want to see the property before proceeding. I will be in town on business tomorrow, and have a few hours between my last meeting and my return flight. I hope that we can arrange to meet for a walk-through at 7:30pm. If that will be possible for you, please return my call, and I’ll look forward to meeting you tomorrow.”

That was the only message on my voice mail when I arrived at the office yesterday morning. I was new to the real estate business, and was still waiting for my first sale a few months after getting started. When I originally thought of getting into real estate, the market was incredibly hot, and I was sure it would be a great way to save money for graduate school without having to put in too many hours. Unfortunately, things had cooled down since then, and I didn’t yet have any sales to show for my enthusiasm and hard work.

Needless to say, I immediately followed up on this lead. It wasn’t every day that someone called out of the blue, ready to make an offer! I normally wouldn’t agree to meet a new client for the first time at such a late hour (it would be after dark this time of year), but I decided to trust my gut feeling about the man from the businesslike tone of his voice mail, and go ahead with setting up the meeting. I returned his call, and when he didn’t answer, left him a message confirming that I would be delighted to meet him at 7:30, and gave him my cell phone number in case anything came up.

Yesterday had dragged on after I placed that call and went to my classes. Today, after a few hours of homework, I turned my focus to the meeting, and the potential of my first sale. I wanted everything to be perfect, and decided I should arrive at the house on Maple Drive early. I grabbed a quick dinner on campus at about 6:00, and then went back to my apartment to pick out the perfect outfit. Since getting into real estate, I had quickly learned that appearance was critical. Some people talk about ‘location, location, location’, but appearances – of the house, of the neighborhood, of the realtor – can make or break a deal.

I was proud of the careful staging I had done of the vacant house on Maple Drive, asking the sellers to leave certain pieces of furniture and decor. Now it was time to present myself appropriately to this particular potential buyer. From his voice mail, I knew that he was a confident, well-off businessman, professional and no-nonsense. So I changed out of my college-student attire into the one suit I owned, a fitted black jacket and matching knee-length skirt. I chose a red silk blouse to wear under the jacket, and then settled on black stockings with a subtle fishnet pattern, and black heels. As I stepped in front of the mirror to do my hair, I enjoyed the feeling of confidence that washed over me. I looked professional, on par with what I expected from this mystery man, but I also looked hot, my 22-year-old body filling out every curve of this suit perfectly. My shoulder-length blonde hair now pinned back, I headed out to meet him.

I arrived at the house at 7:15 – plenty of time to do a quick walk-through to make sure everything was in order. I turned on lights here and there, lit a few candles, and turned on some music in the living room. I made sure that the windows on the south side of the house were closed, to keep out the road noise that was really the only negative about the house’s location. Everything was ready, so I stood by the front window, watching for him to arrive.

At exactly 7:30, I saw a nondescript kadıköy escort sedan pull up in front of the house, and watched as a man emerged from the driver’s side. Dark as it was, I didn’t see him clearly until he stepped onto the porch into the light from the house. Damn, he was handsome! I was glad I had decided to wait inside and let him ring the doorbell, because it took me a moment to regain my professional demeanor. He was tall, probably 6’3″, with an athletic body which looked spectacular in his designer suit. He had striking blue eyes and close-cropped brown hair, with a bit of gray in his five-o-clock shadow. I guessed he was probably in his late 30s, and that’s as far as I got with admiring his appearance before he rang the doorbell.

Taking a few deep breaths and walking slowly the few steps towards the door, I greeted him with a welcoming gesture, inviting him into the house as I said, “Mr. Johnson, I presume?”

“Yes, thank you for meeting me here, Carly – I recognize your picture from your website.”

“My pleasure, it’s no problem at all,” and then, trying to sound a little less ridiculously eager, “please, take as much time as you’d like to look around, and let me know if you have any questions.”

“Well, I reviewed the listing thoroughly online, and saw all of the pictures, so I think all I need is a quick walk-through to make sure I’d like to go ahead with an offer.”

“Great, well, let’s start by going through the main level, and then I’ll show you the upstairs, with the wonderful master suite.”

As we walked through the house, I was again impressed with his confidence. What I had sensed in his voice mail was obviously accurate – here was a man who knew what he wanted, and had the wherewithal to get it. I also couldn’t help finding myself attracted to him, although obviously the deal was too important to me to do anything so silly as hit on him.

The upstairs of the house really was quite nice, I thought to myself as we walked through the master suite. It had been a bit of a fight, but I had convinced the sellers to leave their king-sized bed, complete with its beautiful silk sheets, to help show off the room to potential buyers. Maybe someday I’ll be able to own a house like this, after college…

This daydream was abruptly interrupted by a surprising feeling, Mr. Johnson’s hand on my ass. At first I froze, and he in turn froze as well, but I quickly melted again, and his gentle pat became a firmer squeeze. I had turned myself into a steely professional in order to make the deal, but if he was going to be the one to make the first move, I certainly wasn’t going to turn him down.

Both of his hands were now moving over my body as I leaned into him, my back still to him. He quickly found my breasts, kneading them through my jacket and blouse, and I responded by grinding my ass against his crotch. The sexual tension was unlike anything I had ever experienced, and was only accentuated by the impropriety of it all, this naughtiness in business attire.

I attempted to turn around to face him, but his hands told me that he wanted me to remain where I was, and I complied with his confident direction. He peeled off my jacket, and his expert fingers quickly unbuttoned my blouse and were now inside my bra, squeezing my nipples. I could feel his erection growing, and continued to push back against him as he pleasured me. One of his hands now dropped to my skirt, grabbing at the fabric to pull it up. He seemed pleased to discover that my stockings were only just-over knee high, and began to explore the skin of üsküdar escort my inner thigh with his warm fingers.

As I responded to his caresses by letting my head fall back against his chest, he began licking and nibbling my earlobe. The combination of all of this attention soon had me very wet, a fact he discovered as his fingers reached my panties. As if in response to my wetness, he kicked things into a higher, more agressive gear. He walked towards the bed, forcing me to walk as well, and when we arrived at the edge of the glorious king-sized bed, he pushed me down so that my forearms were pressed against the comforter, but I was still on my feet, my ass pressed against his crotch.

I felt him move away from me as I helplessly ground my ass against the air. I soon realized, even without looking back to see him, that he was removing his clothes, and when I felt his hands on my body again, he was pushing my skirt up to my waist. As he began exploring the edges of my panties with his fingers, teasing me with touches to my ass and inner thighs, I pulled off my unbuttoned blouse and bra and threw them to the floor. He then tugged at my panties, pulling them down and away from my wet pussy until I was able to kick them off to one side.

I let out a whimper as I felt him pull away from me again, but soon realized that I had no cause for complaint. He had knelt behind me, and now, with one strong hand on each of my thighs, pushed my legs further apart. I let my head fall to the bed as his tongue first touched the skin of my ass, and traced a wet line directly to my pussy. He eagerly slurped up the juices that were already trickling out of my sex, and then began a slow, steady stroking from my clit to my pussy lips.

All the tension of the day – sexual and otherwise – melted away as this man ate me out. He soon had me moaning and bucking, and had to grab my hips firmly to keep in contact with me as I began to lose control. After several minutes of his steady tongue strokes, he turned his tongue’s focus entirely to my clit, and inserted two fingers deep into me. But rather than speed up his motions, as I expected him to, he instead slowed, and finally stopped, pulling away from me and standing up. He gently touched my arm and motioned for me to stand up as well.

For the first time since he had made his move, we were now face to face. He was completely naked, his muscular body just as hot as I had imagined it to be when I first saw him. The raw sexuality I felt was unlike anything I had experienced before. The sight and feel of this man before me, the lingering sensations of his fingers on my body and his tongue on my clit – I was ready for anything. Still wearing my skirt, which was pushed up to my waist, and my just-over-the-knee stockings, I watched as he climbed onto the bed and settled himself on his back, with his head on the pillows.

I climbed onto the bed beside him and began to fondle his cock with both hands. It was already half-hard, but quickly grew so that it took both of my hands to fully encircle it. I took the tip, and then a few more inches, into my mouth, and began bobbing up and down on it as I firmly stroked the base with both hands. After a few minutes, impressed at his stamina, I began fondling his balls with one hand and taking a bit more of his shaft into my mouth, swirling my tongue around his cock as I stroked.

Completely engrossed in sucking his huge cock, I hardly noticed when he first tried to get my attention. A slap on the ass remedied that, and I pulled myself away from his cock long enough for him to grab me by the hips, position one of my knees tuzla escort on each side of him, and pull my pussy down onto his face. I had always fantasized about enjoying a 69 position, but never had a boyfriend who wanted to spend that much time eating me out! His tongue again exploring my wet pussy, I turned my attention back to his cock, this time taking as much of his length as I could before stroking up and down.

As his tongue explored the inner lips of my pussy, I moaned onto his cock. I was again amazed at his stamina as I felt my first orgasm coming, but he was still holding back as I sucked him. I let myself go, and this time he let me finish, forcing myself down onto his tongue and coating him with my juices. In my moment of ecstasy, I wasn’t able to keep my mouth on his cock, but continued stroking him furiously with one hand as I screamed out.

As I finished, he let me fall to the bed and again stood up, his hard cock jutting out from his body as he walked to the foot of the bed. He now grabbed both of my ankles and pulled me to the edge of the bed, giving himself full access to plunge into my pussy. But first he teased me. After putting one of my feet on each of his shoulders, he used his hands to draw the head of his cock back and forth against my pussy lips for what seemed like an eternity. Even though I had just cum, this delay was excruciating – I wanted him inside of me, fucking me!

Mind reader that he seemed to be, he thrust fully into me as soon as I had the thought. I couldn’t believe the feeling of fullness as he began to stroke his huge cock in and out of my still dripping pussy. He took hold of my ankles again, and used that grip to occasionally move my legs, changing the angle of his insertion, as we fucked for what seemed like an eternity.

Suddenly, his demeanor changed, and I guessed that he was finally nearing his climax, after holding off for so very long. Just when I thought he would begin pounding me more furiously, he instead pulled out and backed up one step, giving me room to get up and stand again with my ass to him and my hands on the bed. I had longed for this penetration from behind ever since he first seduced me from that angle.

As soon as I was ready, my legs spread wide for him, he plunged into me again, reaching a depth inside of me that took my breath away. Once there, he moved slowly at first, grinding his hips against my ass. His hands reached around and grabbed both of my breasts, kneading them firmly as he began to stroke in and out of me. Then, as he began thrusting more furiously, one hand reached for my clit, pinching it between his thumb and finger. I had thought nothing could surpass my orgasm from the 69 position, but I was wrong. This deep penetration from behind, his increasing intensity as he approached his own climax, his strong fingers on my nipples and clit, it was overwhelming, an all-encompassing pleasure that covered every inch of my body.

As a long, deep orgasm went through me, he finally came as well, shouting out as he pulled out of me and shot his load all over my ass. Completely spent, I collapsed to the bed. My first coherent thought was to realize that I didn’t even know this man’s first name. I rolled over to ask him this question, only to find him already gone. How long had it taken me to rejoin the conscious world after that orgasm?

I jumped up from the bed and ran to the window. As I pulled back the curtains, I just managed to see his car pull away from the front of the house. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something on the dresser – a business card. It had no company logo, no information other than his name – still just ‘Mr. Johnson’ – and the same phone number he had left in his voice mail the day before.

Thoroughly perplexed, but also thoroughly satisfied, I slowly got dressed, locked up the house, and went back to my apartment. It wasn’t until I was in the shower later that evening that I realized the real question that remained unanswered – did I make the sale?

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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