Conchi Thorne sighed softly as she closed the door on her departing nephew. Keith had come as usual, had given his semen, and had begged again and again for the pleasure of having intercourse with her.
Keith called it fucking, a word that Conchi didn't use or like; but she was certainly getting to hear it often. It was hard to make Keith understand that she valued his services and was glad to show her nude self to him, but that was all.
This morning she had displayed the large photographs of herself, both nude and seminude. And she had paraded before Keith wearing only a see-through negligee and panties. He had become inflamed in seconds as she had seen by the erection that hugged his nude belly. In fact he had, in his sexual eagerness, come in her little glass twice before he gave up masturbating himself. That had never happened before, but the extra shot had pleased her. It was so much more for her complexion.
She began putting the photos away, aware that she must soon dress to get ready for her afternoon class at the University. The doorbell rang before she was finished. "Damn!" she murmured in annoyance, thinking it could be Keith again, wanting to beg for intercourse. She opened the door but it wasn't her nephew. It was Frank Kazarra.
"You called me?" he said, his dark Latin gaze directly on her.
"Yes, of course," Conchi stammered. "I-I didn't believe you would come until evening."
"You're one of my best tenants, Miss Thorne. You get the best service. If you have trouble I want to know about it. I'll fix it, personally."
Conchi felt her face flush. "Come in, Mr. Kazarra."
Frank stepped into the foyer and Conchi closed the door.
"You said it was the dishwasher?" he asked.
"Yes," Conchi said, embarrassingly aware of both her flush-filled face and her lack of clothing. "I start it and it stops."
"Let me take a look at it," Frank said. His eyes were fresh in the way they looked at her. "The circuit breaker must be tripping the starter; if so I'll need an electrician."
"You know where the kitchen is," Conchi said, not wanting the Italian person walking behind her, viewing her roundness with his fresh stare.
Frank started for the kitchen and Conchi followed. He stopped by the cocktail table where one of her nude photos was propped against the brandy bottle. He reached for it and held it so he could see the print and her at the same time.
"Doesn't do you justice, Miss Thorne," he said, and a huge grin softened the lines of his mouth.
"The dishwasher," Conchi said with a show of huffiness. She pulled her robe over her breasts and led the way to the kitchen.
Frank followed, seemingly fascinated by the beauties called buttocks in polite society. They moved seductively under the negligee and Frank had a hard on by the time he entered the kitchen.
Once in the room Frank became all business, and it was hard to do with a wiggling ass to think about. He started the dishwasher and listened as the load hit the circuit breaker and stopped.
"The breaker is set too low," he explained. "The ampere rate has to be changed. I'll have to send up an electrician."
Frank paused and stared at the fine body in front of him. His eyes moved from the tit mounds to the sensual curves of classic hips. The robe was thin enough to enhance the beauties his eyes were seeing.
"How long will that take?" Conchi asked, embarrassed by the man's eye-caressing of her fine sexual features.
"As soon as possible; I'll hurry him along so you can use your washer tonight."
"That will be fine," Conchi said, edging toward the door to the living room.
Frank followed, feasting his eyes on Conchi's charms. She was all woman and he'd sure like the chance to fuck her. "You know, Miss Thorne," he said, "you are all woman."
Conchi stopped and turned to face him. "I'm sorry you had to see me this way. I was about to dress when you rang."
"Think nothing of it, Miss Thorne," Frank said. "You are a fine tenant and I hope you plan to stay."
"Stay?" Conchi said.
"You've forgotten the new leases-they'll be ready next week."
"You are right, Mr. Kazarra-I did forget." Conchi hugged her negligee closer to her body. She could as well have taken it off for all it concealed. "I certainly plan to sign a new lease, Mr. Kazarra."
Frank smiled. "Good. I wouldn't want to lose my best tenant, would I?"
"I am?" Conchi said.
"If all my tenants were as agreeable as you- and as lovely-I'd be a very happy landlord."
"Why thank you, Mr. Kazarra. How nice of you to say that."
"It's true," Frank said, his cock making a bulge in the leg of his slacks. He hurried past Conchi, who followed him to the door. He opened the hall door, paused long enough to say. "I'll have the electrician here as soon as possible."
"Not until four, Mr. Kazarra," Conchi said. "I have a class this afternoon."
Frank took a last look at the charmer who was keeping his cock erect. "I'll tell him-four o'clock." And Frank was gone.
Conchi now felt more embarrassed than when Frank Kazarra had been in the apartment. What can he ever think of me? she thought. She returned from the foyer and hastily put the brazen photo away.
Conchi hurried to the bedroom and discarded robe and panties. She went into the bathroom to see her image in the full-length mirror. The glass reflected the rising thrusts of her breasts and she was surprised to see that each nipple was erect. She felt them, for she was impressed. Her nipples seldom became hard.
What has he done to me? she asked herself, for never had her nipples hardened under Keith's gaze.
Conchi continued to watch her reflection in the mirror. Her face was still flushed with embarrassment. Why the excitement? she questioned her reflection. Why can I posture so indecently in front of Keith and become nervous when Mr. Kazarra sees me in a negligee?
Was it because Keith is a boy and Frank is a man? Were his lecherous looks the cause of her excitement? Why, after all these years, should Frank Kazarra make her feel differently?
She nodded to her reflection. "I am excited!" she cried out. "Oh, no, not now!"
She tried to push all thoughts from her mind as she dressed for her appearance before her class at the University. But Frank stayed in her mind, and there, behind her desk in the classroom, a miracle happened. She could feel the crotch piece of her flesh panties become wet with-it must be sweat, she said to herself.