The Window Cleaner's Photograph

Glen Potter was about to have a day that would rock his world. Something was about to happen that was so sudden, so unlikely and unexpected that even when he got home that night, he still couldn't quite get his head around it.

He had started a window cleaning round when he lost his job with a firm of builders for 'borrowing' a couple of bags of cement. He didn't really mind, as a single man of twenty-four with few responsibilities it just meant he was now his own boss in every sense, and if he wanted a day off, he just took it. And, he believed, there was always the possibility of finding a randy housewife somewhere on his round, although that had not happened yet. But he lived in hope and expectation.

He was a man with a cheerful disposition, and most of his fortnightly clientele responded well to his easy manner and ready smile. But, of course, there were exceptions and one of those was Mrs Clifton, a tall sophisticated blonde lady in maybe her late forties. While she was not exactly unfriendly, she was very aloof, paying Glen at the door with little more than a 'good morning' and then retreating back into her expensive home.

And so he was surprised on this particular day that she came out and stood watching him work. Not saying anything and not really, as was the case with some clients, taking note of how close to the corners he got. She just seemed to stand there, too far away to speak to, but gazing at him deep in thought for long minutes before finally going back indoors without a word. But if he thought that was strange, more was to follow.

He finished the job, put his ladder and bucket by the gate as usual and rang the bell for payment. She answered the door, but instead of simply handing him the cash, she stood back and indicated for him to step inside.

"Can I offer you a coffee?" She asked, sounding strangely nervous to Glen's ears.

"Y-yes, thank you." He was so surprised he actually stammered his acceptance. "T-t-that would be nice."

She led him through into the kitchen where two cups laid out revealed a certain amount of preplanning, and gestured for him to sit at the table.

"Do you take sugar, Glen? It is Glen, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's Glen. And two sugars please."

He sat in silence after that, still trying to understand her change in behaviour, while she poured the coffee and placed a cup before him, taking the seat opposite.

"Now." She began brusquely. "There is something I would like you to do for me."

This is more like it, he thought, she's back into business mode.

"I want to ask you..." She hesitated as if considering if she should continue. "I need a photograph taken; a very personal photograph, and I wondered if you would mind helping me out?"

That was very much not like it! What kind of 'personal' had she in mind? He didn't like where this was going.

"What exactly are you thinking of?" He asked, trying to sound blasé.

"I need to be photographed sucking a man's ... thing! And I wondered if you'd photograph me sucking yours?"

He sat with the coffee cup resting motionless against his lower lip, completely stunned by her question.

"You want...? You're asking me...? Say that again!"

"I asked if you would be prepared to photograph me sucking your cock."

Glen was totally bewildered, and he couldn't pretend otherwise. He sat dumbstruck for what seemed like an eternity. Never in a million years would he have expected anything like this, no matter how much he told his friends that housewives were continually making advances. But then, why look a gift horse, etc, etc?

"Well, ok, yes... If that's what you... But you're a married lady."

It was an objection made because he couldn't come up with anything better and felt he ought to say something if only for the sake of appearances, but she took it seriously. She glanced down at her wedding ring and clamped her other hand over it as if to deny its presence.

"Can we pretend that it doesn't exist today? And if we can, will you let me suck you off?"

There was a silence as Glen was still trying to come to terms with her offer, but she interpreted it as reluctance.

"I know I'm a lot older, and I don't suppose doing it with a woman my age is a very attractive idea, but I'd be willing to pay you."

Glen looked at her, suddenly seeing a very nervous woman hiding behind the mask of control. Something was driving her, but he had no idea what. He made his decision and shook his head.

"No, you don't need to pay me, of course you don't, and yes, I'd like to -- as long as you tell me why. Because isn't it a bit iffy? I mean, what if your husband sees it and recognises you -- or me?"

"That won't be a problem I can assure you. And in any case, you will not be identifiable."

"All right then, but I do need to know why."

She sat in silence for what seemed like ages, and then came to her own decision.

"All right." She nodded. "That's fair. But I'll explain afterwards if you don't mind. It'll make more sense then."

He couldn't see why, but she obviously could and that was fair enough. And clearly she didn't want to delay. Perhaps she thought she'd lose her nerve if she waited. He didn't know, but no doubt it would come out with the explanation afterwards.

"You want us to do it now?" He asked, continuing when she nodded. "All right, let's do it. As long as you tell me why at some point."

"Thank you." She seemed genuinely grateful. "I will, I promise."

"All right then." He stood up. "Where do you want us to be?"

"In the bedroom. Where else?" She snapped, and then was immediately contrite. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean it to sound like that. Would you mind leaving your shoes at the bottom of the stairs please?"

She turned and led the way upstairs, pausing for a moment to pick up a newspaper from the coffee table. Glen slipped off his shoes and socks and quickly followed, watching the gentle sway of her hips and the supple curves of her bottom. He had to admit to himself that she wasn't bad for her age. His cock began to swell behind his zip. He still had no idea what was behind all this, but why worry, it was more than three weeks since he'd had any sort of sex and he reckoned he was well overdue.

She entered a bedroom about the combined size of Glen's entire apartment, a size apparently doubled again by a wall of mirrored closet doors. He had never been in a bedroom quite like this one for sheer opulence, and he couldn't help but feel just a little outclassed. Even so, he reminded himself, it would look exactly like mine with the lights off.

She turned to face him, her feet nearly out of sight in the deep cream pile of the carpet.

"Ready?" She asked.

"Ready." He confirmed, feeling his erection just wanting to get free.

"I need for both of us to be in the nude, so would you mind getting undressed please?"

"In for a penny in for a pound, so why not?" He smiled as he spoke, but it was not returned.

He only had a tee-shirt and jeans to shrug off before he was down to his boxers, and so at that point he stood and watched her undo the buttons on her crisp white blouse. She was trembling ever so slightly, maybe from nerves or maybe from excitement. He hoped the latter but somehow doubted it. She gave a distinct impression that she was doing this against her better judgement, and he hoped there would be no repercussions. An irate husband coming after him for letting a middle aged wife blow him was something he'd never live down among his mates. Although maybe it just might convey a little kudos.

The blouse came off, to be folded and placed carefully on the seat of a bedroom chair before she turned her attention to her tailored grey slacks. She pushed them over her hips and then sat on the edge of the bed to free her legs from them. He watched in wonder, thinking that this was a Mrs Robinson moment, and it was certainly not a situation he expected to find himself in. She was pretty much the same age as his mother, but he had to admit, somewhat better looking.

She stood up clad only in a matching set of white underwear highlighted with black scrolling and reached behind to unclip her bra. She was definitely fit, he thought to himself, far fitter than anyone her age had a right to be. He looked her up and down. Maybe this was going to be better than he had thought.

"Aren't you going to take those things off?" She pointed at his boxers.

"I was thinking." He replied, trying to hide the fact that he'd been staring. "That we should both take our last things off together. You know, like jumping in the pool together."

She smiled; a tiny ghost of a smile, but a smile nonetheless, and the first Glen had ever seen.

"Why not?" Her bra joined the slacks and blouse on the chair and she stood up to face him, her small, surprisingly pert, breasts jiggling slightly as she moved. "So let's do it."

She had the advantage that her body had nothing jutting out of it like Glen's had, and she had slid her panties over her feet one after the other before he had managed to even manoeuvre the elastic waistband over his very erect cock, and it was her turn to stand and watch him undress.

Both naked now, they stood for a minute and looked at each others bodies. Glen didn't mind that in the slightest, he knew he was trim and fit, his physical work had seen to that, combined with the game of rugby he played most Saturday afternoons. And his erection was hard and full, so no problem there to hide away.

And as for Mrs Clifton (he had no idea of her first name), she must have been an absolute stunner in her youth and was far from ugly now. It was true that time had had some effect, because her breasts weren't quite as perky as they probably once were, and her stomach not quite as trim, but she was undeniably still beautiful. He let his eyes wander from her small brown nipples to the fluff of blonde hair that marked the join of her thighs, just enjoying the sight.

"I have to tell you." She was watching him. "Just because you can see it doesn't mean you can have it."

He tore his eyes away from the dark skin of her nipples. "I know. Worth looking at though."

Again the ghost of a smile. "Thank you. Let's get started, shall we?"

He watched as she padded across to a cupboard and took out a compact camera, checking its charge as she brought it back to him.

"Do you know how to use these?" She asked.

It was a question that could have come across as very patronising, but the innocence of her gaze belied any such thought. He gave it a quick look over.

"Yes, I can manage this, no problem."

"Good, then come across here, I want you in front of the mirrors. I'll kneel in front of you and... Well, you know what I'm going to do. And, don't worry, I'll finish you off when we've finished taking pictures, so don't think about being left high and dry."

That was the first time she had actually confirmed that she would finish the job off and let him come in her mouth, and it was nice to know.

"All I ask is that you warn me before you shoot."

"I promise you that."

"Good, now stand sideways to the mirror." She put her hands on his shoulders and guided him into place. "I want you to take one looking straight down at me while I'm looking up with you in my mouth, and another in the mirror so that it shows us both full length, okay?"

"Yep, I can do that." He wondered why those specific poses.

"When you photograph us in the mirror, make sure that it shows your cock actually in my mouth, and also, hold the newspaper in front of your face. It's this morning's and it will both hide you and prove that the picture wasn't taken before today."

She gestured towards the paper she had brought up with her and that now lay at the foot of the bed.

"Don't worry." She saw his puzzled expression and continued. "It'll make sense when I tell you why."

"That's okay. It's not a problem, honest."

"Good. Here we go then."

She knelt in front of him, her face only a few inches from the end of his cock. Now she really was visibly trembling as she knelt and just stared at him.

"Are you all right?" He asked, concerned that somehow she didn't want to do it. "We don't have to do this, you know, even though you asked me."

She glanced up and then returned her gaze to his cock. "No it's okay. It's just that I've never done this to anyone but my husband before."

"As long as you're sure." He was feeling almost sorry for her, without really knowing why.

She didn't reply, she just wrapped her fingers around his shaft, then opened her mouth and took him between her lips, softly kissing the end. Her fingers were cool but strong, and her lips felt soft and warm and exciting. He couldn't resist a tiny sigh of pleasure.

For a minute or so her tongue just swirled around the end, but then, having got used to the idea of a strange man's cock in her mouth, she opened it wider and took him right in. Now, she looked up at him and made a 'take a photograph' gesture with her finger and thumb.

The feel of her mouth around his cock was so nice he'd almost forgotten the reason they were doing this, but he still had the camera in his hand so now he raised it and sighted down his body, composing the shot to be sure his belly didn't obscure his cock. Seeing him line up the shot she pulled back a little so that her head was tilted upwards and her mouth just engulfed the head of his cock, making it very obvious that she wanted to be identified in the photograph.

Having taken the first photo he looked sideways, seeing himself plainly in the large mirrors, his cock very clearly disappearing into Mrs Clifton's mouth. He leaned sideways and picked up the newspaper from the bed where she had dropped it, and then holding it in one hand and the camera in the other, he took the second photo, repeating the shot to be sure because his view was obscured by the paper in front of his face. As it happened, both shots were fine when he checked, trying hard to concentrate with his cock still surrounded by a soft warm mouth, and he was able to drop the camera and newspaper onto the bed, job finished.

"All done." He assured her, noticing the questioning, slightly worried look on her face.

She took him out of her mouth, holding his shaft between finger and thumb.

"Are they clear?" She asked.

"Yes, they're good." He told her, leaning over as if to pick up the camera again. "Take a look if you like."

"No that's fine, so long as they show what I want them to." She smiled, but it wasn't a particularly pleasant smile. "Right, now for my part of the bargain."

She opened her mouth to take him in again, but he hung back, feeling slightly perturbed by the slightly vindictive look on her face a moment before.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to." He told her.

"As a matter of fact, I do want to, all the way to the end. And before you ask, I didn't expect I would, but I do. Now, it will be easier if you sit on the bed."

He put up no resistance when she pushed him gently backwards until the mattress behind his knees made him sit down suddenly, nor any when she moved forward and closed her mouth over his cock once again. His momentary misgivings vanished before the prospect of the blowjob.

As she shuffled herself into place between his knees, her nipple grazed along the inside of his thigh. It was hard now, a little bullet that touched his flesh, its condition revealing her own arousal and letting him relax, happy in the knowledge that she wasn't just doing it because she'd promised to, but because, as she had said, she really wanted to. His excitement level went through the roof.

Her mouth slid along his shaft as her head rose and fell, her tongue wriggling and writhing along the underside each time. At first she did it very slowly, but gradually her nodding head got faster, taking all she could into her mouth, coating it with saliva until her mouth slurped as it moved, and sucking all the time. He groaned out loud at the intense pleasure she was giving, knowing that it would not be long at this rate before he was filling her mouth with hot cum.

"Lie back." She took her mouth away just long enough for the two words.

He did as he was told, relaxing with his back flat on the bed and his thighs over the edge, spreading his legs a little further as she changed her position. Now she had her forearms resting along his thighs, one small, and beautifully cool, girlish hand gripping the base of his shaft and the other cupping his scrotum, manipulating his balls as her mouth went back to its work.

As soon as she had regained her rhythm she started to wank him, with her hand moving in opposition to her mouth, rising as her head fell and then descending as her mouth retreated, exaggerating the effect on his cock. At the same time she began to stroke the base of his scrotum with the hooked fingers of her left hand, trailing her nails over the very sensitive skin of his sac. He closed his eyes and surrendered to the sensations, suddenly feeling that little point of heat and pressure that signalled the beginnings of a climax.

He let her carry on without saying anything, clenching his teeth and gripping the bed until he knew it was almost there, looking down the length of his body to where a mop of blonde hair bobbed over his cock.

"I'm going to come soon." He announced, warning her and just hoping she wouldn't pull away.

Her head gave a rapid little nod of silent understanding and returned to the longer and more instant nods on his shaft. He could feel his cum gathering in his balls.

"I'm coming."

Her scratching fingers cupped themselves around his balls and squeezed gently as her mouth descended onto his cock and held itself there, waiting for him to pour his cum into her mouth.

"Oh god...." He groaned long and heavily, an animal sound that began deep in his throat.

He felt the first gush race along his shaft as he fought hard not to push his cock into her throat, and then came the blessed release as it burst from his cock into her waiting mouth. He groaned again, and another spurt sprayed from him. She adjusted her position, keeping her mouth fastened over the head of his cock as she swallowed and at the same time milking his cock between her fingers, encouraging more cream from his balls. Several more spurts squirted into her mouth, but the amount and power slowly declined until finally there was none left and he just lay back on the bed fighting for breath.

"Christ, that was good!" He exclaimed after a minute or so, raising himself onto his elbows to look at her.

She was still kneeling between his thighs and licking her lips to capture any last stray spots of escaping spunk, smiling with satisfaction at his words and letting his softening cock slip from between her fingers.

"I'm pleased that you enjoyed it." She glanced up at him, her expression oddly shy. "Because so did I."

He nodded happily, mustering a lungful of air. "That's good. I didn't like the idea of you doing something you didn't want to."

He was surprised to realise that he'd spoken the truth.

"No, I'm glad I did it." She pushed herself onto her haunches and then stood up a little stiffly, leaving him to get his breath back. "And now I promised to tell you what it is all about."

She took a kimono style robe from the back of a chair and hung it around herself without bothering to fasten it, then picked up the camera and went across to a desk where a laptop was waiting. She opened it, plugged in the camera and began pecking at the keyboard, speaking to him over her shoulder as she did so.

"I have to tell you." She began. "That my husband and I have never got on too well when it comes to sex. But then I suppose you've already guessed that. I always thought it was just that I had a much higher drive than him, and that I was naturally more adventurous."

She stopped and looked up to see if he was listening, and satisfied that he was, she continued.