Ann: The Married Years Ch. 12

"How old would she have been?"

"Does it matter? She was hot right up to the day she died. What mattered was whether she was good at her job; and trust me, she was."

Pulling out one last registry book, she started to open it, but he already guessed what was in it. "So that one will tell me my great-grandfather was fond of Henrietta, right?"

"Exclusively," she nodded. "He was one of her first regulars. They met once a week, although he always paid her. It wasn't until Bonnie got the deal with the bank that the rest of your family started taking the banker's discount. But he never did. From what I can tell, he was one of two people she kept seeing after she stopped working the mattress and became strictly the madam. In fact, she kept seeing him after Bonnie became madam."

Charles swallowed the rest of his wine in a huge gulp, leaning back into the sofa. Her hand crept closer to his obvious bulge.

"Would you like some more wine, Charles?" she asked.

"What the hell. Why not?"

"Come on," she said, holding out her hand. "Let me give you a tour and show you what I want to do with the place."

They spent the next half-hour walking through lower part of the house, Mary Ann giving him a very guided tour. She held his hand almost the entire time, leading him where she wanted, explaining the changes she wanted to make to the structure to make it work as a store. She shared her concepts of what it would look like; how she would decorate it, her descriptions so detailed that he could actually envision it.

"You've really thought this out, Mary Ann. I'm beginning to have a much better feeling about this," he admitted.

"Good," she said as she squeezed his hand. "Come with me. I want to show you the upstairs."

Pulling him toward the steep staircase in the middle of the house, they stopped when he saw the two pictures on the wall.

"Who's that?" he wondered, seeing the incredibly beautiful woman in the old photo.

"That's Henrietta. It was taken in 1955. She was 63 at the time."

"You're kidding! She looks like she's in her early 40s!"

"I've been blessed with incredible genes. I don't mean to brag, but big breasts and great looks run in my family. And apparently we age well. I think a lot of that has to do with having a job you love. This is a picture of Grandma Bonnie. It was taken on the last day the brothel was open in 1969. In fact, she'd just finished meeting with her last man, which happened to be your grandfather. She'd just turned 55."

"Damn. Now I'm starting to understand why they were so popular."

"With the men in your family?" she teased, running a finger along his tie.

"Well, we do seem to all love the same type of women."

"Let me guess... dirty blondes with big tits?" she winked, describing not only her ancestors, but herself as well.

"Yes," he nodded with a grin.

"I was hoping you'd say that," she winked, taking his tie as she turned around, leading him up the stairs by it. "Come with me, sweetie. There's a lot more to see."

With the stairway being so narrow, he had to follow her. Not that he minded. Her perfect heart-shaped ass looked magnificent as she carefully climbed the steps to the second floor.

She showed him the four bedrooms, something he hadn't expected for such a small house. The largest one was now her room, which had been Henrietta's originally. The one next to it had been Bonnie's. The other two had been shared by the four girls that worked there when the home became a brothel. Once the family moved to a different house when Camilla came along, there was more girls working, and more activity, since all the rooms could be used by anyone.

Showing him one of the rooms that looked out over South Street, and the textile factory across from it, she smiled. "This one is my favorite."

"Why's that?"

"For one, it was used more than any other room. Plus I love the view. The factory is right across the street" she said, walking around the bed to the window, staring outside. Pointing, she continued. "The factory had the same windows that the outlet has now, all four stories. The girls would bring the men inside here, and they'd pull down the blind." She did the same, lowering the shade over the panes of glass. "When the blind went back up, it meant they'd finished. I love the idea of the men working across the street knowing what that meant."

Making her way back to him, she lifted the negligee over her head, discarding it onto a chair, leaving her in just the bra and panty set. She put her hands on his chest, looking up into his eyes. Then she lowered herself, letting her hands run along his stomach, then down his thighs as she squatted in front of him. He stood frozen, unable to comprehend what was happening; that is until she reached for his belt and started loosening it.

"What are you doing, Mary Ann?"

"I think you already know what's about to happen, Charles."

Looking at his hand, he fumbled with his ring, his thumb spinning it nervously on his finger. "I... I can't. I'm married."

"And so were the rest of the men in your family. Infidelity seems to run in your bloodline as much as banking."

She'd loosened his belt, and began working on the button and zipper, when he offered another protest. "Seriously, Mary Ann. This is nuts. Why are you doing this?"

Her work done, she stood, letting his pants falling around his ankles. She reached out and fondled his thickness through his boxers, pleased that he was already hard.

"I think we both know that as well. But I'll spell it out for you, if you'd like." He could only nod, and as she gripped his shaft more firmly, she ran a finger along his jaw line. "We're about to conclude our meeting. You're going to give me the loan, and the line of credit I need... just like your grandfather did. And I'm going to fuck your brains out in return as a way to say thank you, just like my grandmother."

"You can't be serious."

"I'm very serious."

"Mary Ann -"

"Charles?" she interrupted, batting her eyes at him as flashed a sexy smile.

"Look, I think you're gorgeous -"

"And I've already told you I think you're handsome. That aside lets look at the facts. This is a transaction. I get the money I need. You get to be the man at the bank that made a bold decision. I get to live out a fantasy I've had ever since I moved into this house. Probably before, if I'm honest about it... I want to be one of Henrietta's girls, at least once. And you get to continue a long line of very satisfied customers of the brothel. And let's not forget, you're the only Charles Danielson that's stepped foot inside this house that hasn't had sex with one of the women in my family. All we're really doing is keeping that streak alive."

"Oh, well, when you put it like that," he said sarcastically, yet still not pulling himself away; a fact that she noted.

"You're still here. And you're still hard."

"You're stroking my cock. You're drop-dead gorgeous and you're barely dressed. Of course I'm hard!"

Letting go of his cock, she reached behind her back to unfasten her bra, casually tossing it onto the chair with her negligee. She showed no embarrassment whatsoever. The confidence in her actions, combined with the sight of her massive bare breasts swaying in front of him began breaking down his defenses.

She squeezed them together, lifting them up slightly before letting them drop. His eyes followed as they bounced before settling into place. Turning, she pulled down the coverings on the bed, before crawling up onto the sheet and lying on her back.

"Get undressed Charles," she said as she slowly peeled her thong down her toned legs. It too found a place on the chair, her distant toss perfect, as if she'd done that a thousand times before. Spreading her thighs slightly, she let her fingers run through the folds of her pussy, exposing her wetness to him.

"Fuck it!" he snapped as he removed his suit coat. Loosening his tie, he scrambled to unbutton his white dress shirt.

"If IT refers to my pussy, then by all means... fuck it."

There wasn't a great deal of foreplay. Her pussy was soaked by the time he got fully undressed, and his cock was copiously leaking precum. She did take a moment to suck him, sitting up on the edge of the bed while he stood next to it, and that gave her a chance to formally size him up.

"I see your family is known for something big as well," she teased, licking along the length of his shaft. "No wonder Henrietta and Bonnie kept seeing the Danielson men. You have a beautiful cock, Charles."

His hand guided her back over the tip, before stuffing her mouth full. "Thanks," he groaned, his head leaning back.

She sucked him like that for a few minutes, but both of them were ready for more. Eventually she pulled off, flopping onto the thin mattress, her legs still dangling over the edge. Spreading her legs slightly, she looked up at him, his majestic penis bobbing in front of his abdomen.

"How do you want me, Charles?"

"What?"

"It's your money, so to speak. You get to say how you want to spend it. Is there any particular way you'd like to fuck me?"

"I get a choice?"

"You're the consumer, sweetie. Of course you get a choice. So... how do you want me?"

"As many ways as possible," he growled, pouncing on her.

She let out a gleeful squeal as he dragged her further onto the mattress. Grasping his cock, he ran the fat head through the folds of her cunt, spreading them. He even swatted her clit with his thickness a couple of times, making her scream in delight. When he finally sank his length into her, she let out a long wail, her hands grasping around his neck.

"Don't be shy, Charles. Pound me. Fuck me hard."

"Don't mind if I do," he exclaimed, pulling back slowly before firing his hips forward.

The room was once again filled with the sounds of sex, just like it had been countless times in the past. It was everything she'd dreamed it would be, and more. The old metal headboard rammed into the wall. The springs of the frame made a distinctive squeak with each thrust. The floorboards creaked from the way he was hammering her mercilessly. And then there were his grunts, and her whimpers, along with their occasional screams and growls.

It was raw, the way he pumped into her best described as wild and frenzied. Her heavy breasts flopped back and forth, until he grabbed and squeezed them hard. She told him how much she loved the way he was manhandling her, and he pulled her nipples in response, setting off her first orgasm.

"No wonder they loved this," she thought, the women that had lay there before her fresh in her mind, and how she was allowing a man she barely knew to plow her pussy, much like they had experienced. Then again, most of them had regulars, and she could see how they could become somewhat attached. Looking up into Charles' lusty stare, she came to a conclusion. "Especially if they fucked like he's fucking me!"

Tiring, he made them switch places. He got on his back so she could ride on top of him, bouncing up and down on that thick shaft. First she did it facing him, and then after a while she turned around and had her back to him, her hands on his pecs, using his chest as support as she humped him hard and deep.

She came several times, but his staying power was incredible. Finally moving to her hands and knees, he started ramming her from behind, her big breasts swaying violently. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her to him. Then again, she was doing her best to accentuate the collision, using her thighs to thrust backwards into him, their bodies smacking together.

He was dripping with sweat, as was she, their bodies slick and shiny in the dim light coming from the overhead bulb. She leaned forward, her upper torso lay on the old, used mattress, and she found herself inhaling. The aroma was that of musty sex, and that somehow appealed to her. She came again, exploding all over his cock. And she knew he was finally close too.

"CUM FOR ME CHARLES... FILL MY PUSSY!"

"GAWD DAMMIT MARY AAAAANNNNNNN!" he screamed, lurching forward to bury his cock into her as deep as possible.

She felt the warm fluid gushing inside her, his cock pulsing and jerking with such force it made her swoon. She tightened her walls, squeezing at his shaft, milking his cum out of it.

He landed on top of her, his big body pressing her into the springs. She could feel every bump and knot in the old bed, her body squished by his weight. It felt awful and wonderful to her at the same time. She knew her knees were going to be raw, the thin sheet doing nothing to protect her from the worn fabric covering the mattress itself. She didn't care though. It was going to be a long, exciting reminder of the whore she became that day.

It wasn't until his cock started to soften a few minutes later, their breathing finally back to normal, that he pulled out of her. He glanced at her cunt, matted with his cum, her labia splayed open. The lips were red and swollen, and he grinned at the way she looked.

He got up, standing next to the bed, ready to get dressed. She rolled onto her side, their eyes meeting.

"So, was that as bad as you thought it would be?" she asked, teasing him again.

"I never said it was going to be bad. It was incredible. But that doesn't mean I won't be guilt ridden for the rest of my life."

"You know, one of the ways to get over guilt is to accept the fact that the men that came here often did it because they could get things they couldn't get at home."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked as he bent over to pick up his boxers.

"Well, for most of them, they rationalized that their wives weren't going to do the things that one of the girls that worked her would. Instead of ruining their marriage by whining or pressuring their women to do things they weren't comfortable with, they'd use that as the excuse to come here."

"Sounds like a line of bullshit to me," he laughed.

"Maybe... maybe not. But you have to admit, the divorce rate is a lot higher now than it was back there. There might be something to a guy constantly wanting a blowjob and his wife saying that's not something she'd willing to do."

"That's pretty simplistic. There are a lot of reasons for divorce, Mary Ann."

"I'm sure that's true. I was just using that one as an example. Most women suck cock these days. They may not swallow, but they'll suck their man."

"Yeah, well, sucking cock has never been my wife's problem," he replied, almost as if he was griping about it. She was surprised by his sudden change of mood. But he quickly recanted. "I'm sorry Mary Ann. I just don't understand where you're going with this conversation. And as wonderful as what we just did was, this doesn't help the guilt trip I'm going to have later tonight."

"Then maybe you need a different incentive... something else to justify you coming here today."

"Yeah, and just what would that be?"

She pulled at her left butt cheek, exposing her rear hole to him. "You tell me, Charles. Do you ever get to fuck your wife in the ass?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"It's a good thing I'm a Vice President, or I'd be fired from coming back to work so late," Charles said as he looked in the mirror of the vanity in the room, straightening his tie.

Mary Ann finally flopped onto her side, having held her position on her knees for him, her ass high in the air the entire time he got dressed. A fresh load of cum had begun leaking from her asshole, dribbling down to mix with the one he'd deposited in her pussy a half-hour before. She'd let him watch her like that the entire time he'd put on his clothes, wanting to give him a lasting memory.

"Yes, it's a damn good thing," she sighed. "I can't imagine someone in lower management fucking me like you just did."

"HA! Well, you inspired me. That was fantastic. I can't believe how tight you were."

"That's because you're so fucking thick, Charles. That's some cock you have there. I bet your wife walks bowlegged all the time."

"You know, let's leave the wife out of this. For whatever reason, I'm feeling much better right now about what we just did. I'd like to keep it that way."

"Was it something I said?" she asked, suddenly worried for the first time that she'd made a mistake. It wasn't 1930, or 1960. And while he had the same name, he may not have been like his ancestors. Perhaps she'd actually ruined his marriage by enticing him the way she had.

And that was the difference. The other Danielson men had apparently approached the women of the brothel first. But she had invited Charles there, and did everything in her power to lead him to where they ended up. Yes, he had a say in it. But she certainly used her charms and pushed all the right buttons.

"Well, let's be honest, it was probably fucking your ass," he laughed. 'That's the kind of thing that changes lives."

His laughter eased some of the tension she felt. But she saw the look in his eyes, and her concerns remained. "You do know this was a one time thing, right?"

He smiled as he looked at her in the mirror. "I feel so grateful that you'd do this even once, Mary Ann. I still have to process what just happened, because it's a little hard to believe. But there's one thing I do know. It's not like I had an affair. I had sex... with a prostitute. It was a simple transaction, just like you said."

She shivered when he called her that. Instantly gone was any guilt she'd begun feeling. It made her fantasy turn into reality. No money was exchanging hands, at least in the traditional sense. But she'd traded her body for a loan, and a line of credit. It was far more than she would have earned for a couple of hours if she were really a working girl in a brothel.

"So, you're going to be okay with me seducing you like I did?"

Turning, he leaned back onto the vanity, his hands on the edge. "You didn't make me do anything I didn't want to do, if that's what you're asking."

"It's more like I want to know I didn't ruin your marriage."

"Trust me, my marriage is my problem. Besides, I could have said no. To be honest, knowing that now I'm the same as the rest of the men in my family makes me feel pretty damn special. I've looked up to them. Now, I feel like I have a connection."

"See... justification," she grinned.

"The justification came when you let me fuck your ass. I never would have done that in my life if you wouldn't have offered."

"I didn't offer, sweetie. I sold it to you. You bought that ass... and the rest of me. This wasn't free. I'm expecting you to honor the spirit of what we talked about."

"I'll have the papers ready this afternoon," he grinned.

"That's my Vice President," she teased.

"I'm always here to serve my clients."

"And serve you did! Toss me my clothes, will you?" He did, and she made him watch her get dressed. When she put on the negligee, she got up and walked around the bed, opening the blind. "There we go. Open for business again," she laughed.

"Funny. I thought you weren't going to make a habit of this."

"Oh, I'm not. But today I love the thought of it. I feel closer to my family now too," she shrugged. Plopping down on the bed, she nodded toward the vanity he was leaning against. "Top drawer... there's a camera."

He opened it, stunned that she wanted him to pull it out. "What's this for?" he asked.

"It takes pictures."

"I know that," he chuckled.

"I want one of me just like Henrietta and Bonnie... on a mattress after fucking on the job for the last time," she grinned.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Downstairs, Mary Ann gave Charles a lingering hug by the front door. "Thanks for believing in me," she said with a smile.

He reluctantly let go. Leaning back, he took hold her shoulders with his strong hands to peer deep into her sparkling green eyes.