A Lady and the Student Ch. 02

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The gardener comes a calling.
6.6k words
4.32
192.9k
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Part 2 of the 4 part series

Updated 08/30/2017
Created 01/17/2012
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Margaret opened the kitchen door wearing a vacant look. Standing there, with a salesman's smile, was a large, rough looking man.

Bill was a hard working guy who enjoyed gardening, and building up a small business. Last Sunday he phoned around the neighborhood, something he hated doing, as people just slammed the phone down. As usual just one person responded, so there he was, hoping to gain some new business.

The smile on his face froze as he looked over the young woman. She was dressed in pink, though it was the clothes rather than the color, gripping his attention.

Lonely, bored housewives sometimes dressed up, or paraded around in a flimsy dressing gown, when he arrived on a regular job. He was used to their games and the teasing, which was usually just a bit of fun. It wouldn't lead to anything, most times.

It was the daughters, trying out their new found power over men, who were the problem, not the housewives. He was handsome in a rugged, weather beaten way, though at forty-five, why did they pick on him? It was because he was the hired help, so they saw him as being a safe target, to practice their little games. He just ignored them, until they got bored.

Bill figured this one was into that 'cos play' thing, dressing up as a character from a magazine or film. Though, she looked a bit old for the outfit and that sort of dress-up game. She just stood there looking stupid, so he reminded her of the phone call.

"I'll come in and explain what I can do for you," he ventured. It was often the best approach, to push them along, until they signed up to something.

"Uhhh? OK!" Margaret agreed, and walked back into the kitchen. She had mastered the art of walking in high heels, and was proudly showing off, wiggling her ass in front of him.

"The dress is very nice," he awkwardly said. Knowing from experience, it was a good start, to compliment a woman on her clothes and home. "What are you?" he asked, while looking over the costume.

"Oh! Err. I'm a dumb blonde. It's gorgeous isn't it?" she giggled, while flashing her eyes at him. Margaret blinked rapidly, wondering why she had uttered such a humiliating remark. The thought became muzzy as he smiled at her, so she pushed it aside.

That was no surprise! It was certainly the most unsubtle costume he'd seen in a long time. She was attractive, and could almost be mistaken for a young, dumb blonde. This woman was hot, so he would have to watch himself, or there might be trouble. He didn't want to be teased into going further than she wanted.

She no longer gave a thought, to the silly little girly voice, and giggles. A few days ago, Margaret had been an intellectual. She had been able to debate the latest scientific ideas with friends, holding her own in an argument, with a forceful opinion. Now she looked through glossy, girly magazines, swooning over the fashion pictures. She tried to follow the writing, with a finger, only to find the meaning blurred in her silly head.

He was uncomfortable in the silence, for she just stood there looking vacant. "I see you're making a coffee, you can make me a cup too," he said, with a generous smile.

"Oh! For sure, sir," she answered, with a cute grin lighting her face. The man had told her to make a coffee, which meant he was a 'Sir'. She would have to pay attention to his orders. Margaret was on safe ground with domestic chores. She had been told, by her master, to remember how to carry out mundane tasks.

"My names Bill, what's yours?" he asked, while she was busy making the coffee. The question seemed to throw her, as though she couldn't concentrate on two things at once.

She was about to say her name but it didn't seem right, as though it belonged to someone else. She put a finger to her lips, as it always seemed to help her concentrate. She wanted to say something beginning with 'M', though the thought escaped her.

"My names Candy, isn't it sweet," Margaret giggled. As soon as she said the new name, a calm reassurance returned, replacing the confused thoughts.

Bill sighed. This was going to take awhile, and the inane giggling was already getting on his nerves. She bent over to get something out of a cupboard, wiping all thoughts about the giggle from his mind.

Under the short dress she wore a thong, showing off a peachy, heart shaped ass. He blinked his eyes, thinking he might go blind from the pure, perfect brilliance of it.

"Coffee, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?" Candy asked, as she had learnt to say. The hypnotic suggestion, helped along with a drug, had her behaving exactly as Marvin ordered. The once clear thinking woman thought she was an unintelligent air-head, and behaved like one. There were a few more stages yet, but she would soon be a perfect bimbo.

"Is your husband home? OK. When will he be home?" Bill asked, trying not to think of her cute ass. It was tedious getting an answer from the simpleton. She would screw up her face in concentration, after the simplest of questions. He figured she was just playing a game, based on some television soap character, everyone knew about except him.

Candy hesitated, trying to remember a husband. There was a dim memory of being married, though it seemed to belong to someone else. The husband idea was probably from a favorite soap, on television. The idea became too difficult to tackle and she giggled, forgetting all about it. "I don't have a husband, sir," Candy eventually answered.

This was going to be more difficult to handle than he first thought. If she continued to flash her ass at him, he would have to leave. These teasing women were all the same. If he dared touch her she would cry foul, and accuse him of molesting her.

He unfolded a brochure, trying to concentrate on the job, to clear his mind. "You need to get the lawn treated and cut," he said, trying not to look at her. "These two figures should do it," he said.

He looked at her in dismay. She was adding the cost up with her fingers.

"I'm such a silly head, how much is that," Candy asked.

He told her how much both would cost, with a sigh of exasperation. He was about to ask what she thought, deciding instead to change the approach. "That's a good price, I'll start next Monday," he told her.

"Umm, I guess. If you think it's OK," she cooed.

"Excuse me, you have something, err, dangling," he pointed out. Below the hem of the dress a pink strap had fallen, swinging between her legs. For a moment he thought it was the thong, but it had a clip on it.

"Oh! I'm such a silly dumb blonde," she exclaimed. Pulling at the strap lifted the front of the dress. She lifted it higher, pulling the hem around her hips.

Bill should have turned away, only it was impossible. The little pink panties gripped her pussy and his attention. It was obviously hairless, for the silk cupped her so tight at the crotch.

"I tried to put it on. It's so pretty. It's so hard to do," she pouted, petulantly, almost stamping a foot. "Just look at it. It's caught in my panties. The stockings look so good with it, I need to get it right," Candy complained.

"Will you help me, please?" she whined.

"I'm, err, not sure," he gruffly answered. He continued to stare, right between her legs, wondering if he should or not.

"I can't leave it like this, just dangling about, it looks bad," she complained, in a whining voice. She gave it a tug. "It's stuck. I'll have to pull my panties off," she said.

"No! Don't do that. I'll see what I can do," Bill told her, regretting the offer, as it left his mouth. It was her game. She had roped him in, so how could she complain?

"Are you over eighteen?" he asked. It was obvious she was, though he thought it best to ask.

"Yes, sir" she assured him. An idea, that she was a thirty-year old woman, came to mind. The idea was wrong. The way she was dressed and talked, meant she was just a silly, blonde girly. The idea was quickly pushed away, as it was just a number anyway, so why concern herself with such confusing thoughts. It left her feeling happier and she smiled dreamily.

Bill got down on his knees before her, so close to the silk panties he could have bitten her pussy. His breath wafted over her thighs, bringing out goose bumps over them.

He pushed a finger into one side of the thong, to extract the suspender belt. "You sure you want me to fix this?" he asked.

"Uuhhaaa! Please, sir," she pleaded.

About to tell her to turn around, he thought better of it, not wanting to be that close to her tempting ass. He wrapped both arms around her hips to fasten the catch. It was fiddly, with his big calloused fingers. He had to lean forward, closer still to her panties, breathing upon the little patch of material, only just covering her pussy.

The job was done. He hadn't taken advantage of her. Not daring to touch her accidently, however tempting it had been. He knelt there looking up at her. She just stood there, holding the dress up, showing off the straps hanging around her thighs.

"The pretty pink stockings next, sir, please!" she pointed out.

"You'll have to take those shoes off first," he stated. She was a slut, to be working on him like this, but figured he could take it. She leant on his shoulder, slipping one off, then the other.

Reaching over to the table, for the stockings, she pressed her sex into his face. He took a long sniff of her pussy, finding it clean and perfumed. That was it! He wasn't going to let her get away with just winding him up, like a clockwork toy, to play with, then abandon.

She dangled a stocking in front of him. "Please, sir, Candy really needs these lovely stockings," she pathetically whined.

He ignored the pitiable, little girly voice, preferring to see the woman behind the facade. He preferred a real woman, with experience, knowing what was what. He squinted up at her confirming she was a woman, knowing what she was doing to him, and not some silly little tease.

He just hoped she wouldn't back off at the last moment.

He slipped a stocking on a foot. He took his time sliding his hands up a leg. Smoothing the stocking, over a shapely limb, up to her thighs, was so very hot. She didn't complain. He took his time over the other one too, making sure to attach the stocking top into the clips, slowly and carefully.

His hand trembled as he brushed her thighs, smoothing each strap into place. This was her game and it was a delight to play along. As much as he liked to just get on with sex, this was erotic and exciting, something he had always dismissed. Never again would he just rush in, to get it done.

Still holding the dress up, she turned around. "Are the seams straight, sir?" Candy asked.

Bill couldn't answer. He wanted to bite the ripe, peachy ass, inches away from his nose. Even this smelled fresh and tasty. Eventually he managed to run his hands up a leg to straighten the seam. Even if it was unnecessary, he would have.

"Do you like them, sir?" she asked.

Looking over her shoulder at him, with such a look of concern, deserved an answer.

"Yea! Very cute," he replied, looking at her ass, rather than the stockings. Her perfect bottom was framed by the suspender belt and stockings, in an alluring pose. She leaned forward onto the work top. The pose became all the more enticing, with a pink covered pussy, peeking between her thighs.

"Thank you, sir. I think they are gorgeous. Candy just loves pink," she gushed, with a girly giggle.

He no longer minded the sound of her voice, as he concentrated on trying to get what he wanted. If he just tried it on with her, would that be going too far? Whatever game she was playing, it was certainly working for him. If she was just a prick teaser, she was very good at it. Taking a chance, he lightly stroked a finger, over the soft silk, protruding between her thighs.

"What's this?" he asked, touching her, with a big calloused finger.

"That's my naughty bits," she giggled. "You're not supposed to touch that, you're being naughty," she laughed, a little tinkling, fairy sound.

The reaction confirmed she was game for it, otherwise, she would have objected. "I bet you're naughty sometimes?" he teased back, trying to sound casual.

"Sometimes I'm naughty. Sir will have to smack my botty then," she said.

"Well, you had better be good, or I'll spank you," he said, assuming that was what she wanted.

"Yes, Sir, I'll try to be good. I'm such a silly head, I often get things wrong. I promise to try hard and do as I'm told. If I get something wrong I deserve to be spanked," she offered.

"I've done something for you, so you can do something for me," he told her.

"Yes, sir, anything you want! Candy is so pleased to have her stockings on. They look so hot!" she trilled.

"You can make another coffee while I think of something," he mused. It gave him a chance to cool down. Watching her shimmy around the kitchen, on high heels, was a pleasure.

She was playing a game and the rules were a mystery to him. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't just bend her over the table and fuck her. Women always played games, and this one, was deep into something beyond his experience.

"Can I do anything else for you, sir," Candy asked, with an innocent smile.

"Yes!" he abruptly said. He couldn't just tell her he wanted to fuck her. Thinking of those pink panties, he instead, asked a question. "You shave don't you? Down there," he added, when she looked blank.

"Yes, sir," she meekly told him.

"Do you do it properly?" he asked. Hoping this was playing along with her game.

"I'm not sure, sir," she replied.

"Perhaps, I should check you've shaved correctly," he smiled. He put the coffee down, as his hand shook with tension.

"Uhhh. . .Umm, I guess so, sir," she quietly said. This seemed wrong! Should she let a stranger, a rough gardener, inspect her pussy? She had served him and so he was a sir, so he did know best. He looked at her with a big grin on his face. Feeling somewhat reassured, she pushed the confusion from her mind, and giggled inanely.

She reached under the dress, to pull the thong from between her legs, with a struggle, for they were so small and tight. She lifted the dress up around her hips, while standing right next to him, showing a denuded pussy.

"Shall I check properly?" he asked, with an outstretched hand.

"Uhhh? I guess so, sir," she mumbled.

She nodded her head. It was all the encouragement he needed. He was breathing heavily and his hand shook. He wiped a finger over her lips and in the crease of her crotch, not missing anything. He reached further, cupping her pussy in a big palm, with a finger reaching behind, to her asshole.

She had to splay her legs to accommodate his large hand. He held it there, feeling the smoothness of her pussy.

Margaret sucked in a deep draft of air. This stranger held her crotch in his hand! She could feel the rough calluses, against the lips of her pussy, contrasting with their softness. He was a big strong manly guy, a dominant male, used to getting his own way. How did this happen?

She was stupid to have let a stranger do this to her and in her own home too! She giggled inanely. That's why it happened. It all made sense now. She was stupid, she was an airhead. She was just a silly little, dumb blonde, and he was a big strong man.

Of course she had to let him check her out. She might have gotten it wrong, as she often did. "Has Candy gotten it right, sir? I'm always getting things wrong, and need your help, sir," she smiled.

"You missed a bit," he lied.

"Oh! Uhhh. . .Umm, sorry, sir," she stammered. "Does Candy deserve a spanking?" she asked.

"You're wet too," he told her.

"Umm, why is that, sir?" she asked, looking confused.

"You're excited and need to be fucked," he told her, passed caring for subtly.

"Oh! Does Candy need to be fucked? That sounds naughty!" she exclaimed and giggled. "I guess Sir knows best," she added.

"Bend over the table," Bill hoarsely told her. He had worked hard for this and deserved a reward, for playing along with her stupid game.

In the little short dress she didn't need to lift it to show off her bare ass. The lips of her pussy, pushing between her thighs, glistened. She looked over her shoulder at him with big wide eyes, as he maneuvered ready to take her.

No! This can't be happening! This course man has me bent over the kitchen table, and he's just going to take me. He tricked me out of my panties, so I'm showing off my bare pussy to him. I've got to stop him somehow! Margaret withdrew from the dire situation, leaving Candy to save her.

"Whaaa! Candy can't take that big thing, sir. It'll split poor little Candy in two," she moaned.

It was too late now. There was no going back, as he was past the point of no return. He was meaning to cum, not go. Bill shoved his cock right up inside the tight pussy. It felt so good and hot he let off steam, with a whistled moan of pleasure.

He pumped his cock inside her tight pussy. His belly slapped her rear with each forceful shove. He squashed her against the edge of the table and she cried out. He lifted her up by the hips, shoving her further onto the table, opening her legs wide, reaching in deep.

"Oh! Yes! Thank you sir, thank you. Yes! Yes! Candy is going to cum," she cried out.

Bill continued to pump away into the little, tight hole, for a moment longer. Spurred on by her yells of pleasure, he spurted strings of cum deep inside her. He firmly held the squirming body, needing to keep his throbbing member buried inside, as far as possible, still pumping sperm into the delectable creature.

His cock slithered from her gaping wet pussy, leaving her sprawled over the kitchen table. He laid a hand upon her ass and massaged the beautiful mounds. Grabbing a tissue he wiped up his mess leaking from her crotch, pushed her legs together, and pulled the hem down. The little dress didn't hide much.

He sat heavily upon a chair, looking at the attractive slim figure. A weekly visit to treat the lawn, and treat her, would be an enjoyable job. He helped her off the table and with a strong arm, held the exhausted body up.

"Waahhh! Sir, that was, like, totally, rad!" she enthused. "Thank you for, err, fucking me, sir," she cooed. "Candy loved it!" she exclaimed, and lightly clapped her hands, with a big grin lighting her face.

Bill grinned back at her. At his age she was a young woman. She may be a dunce, or playing at one, but she was a very attractive, sexy, young woman.

"Oh! Sir! That was so wonderful. Is that what is called 'making me'?" she asked, with her features screwed up in thought.

"Yea, I guess so," he murmured.

"Did you make me yours? I guess Candy belongs to Sir now," she said, with a finger between her lips.

"Eh?" he wondered where she was going with this thought. It seemed tough for her, as though she were staining a brain cell.

"Now Candy belongs to Sir, Candy must do as she is told. Does Sir, want to fuck Candy again?" she asked. She stood before him, swinging her hips from side to side, looking cheeky and demure, all at the same time.

"Not just yet, another time. Sir is, I mean, I'm tired," he managed to croak. "I need to get on, do some work," he said, levering up his large frame off the chair.

"Is Sir going to take Candy with him? I won't be any trouble. If I do something silly, Sir can spank his silly little thing. Sir might want to fuck his dumb blonde again," she squeaked in delight, looking hopeful.

"Yes, well, not for the moment. That was great and I'll be back soon. I promise. Right now I've got to earn some money," he told her.

She came up close with arms stretched out. He gave her a bear hug, hoping she wouldn't press the idea of leaving with him. The last thing he needed was a stupid bitch, on heat, at his place.

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