Her Fiancé's Father Ch. 01

1. It was just bad timing, she thought. Any other time, he would have been just another attractive older man. He just had to walk into the gallery at a bad (or good, insisted part of her mind) time. Martin, her fiancé, was away on a long trip, covering the meeting of G-7 Finance ministers in Tokyo and she was feeling the emptiness of her sex life rather acutely that afternoon. She was appraising slides of Polynesian masks, with her office darkened and the ferocious features began to look rather erotic. Try as she might, she would not will the feeling away. She began to feel the heat in her loins and soon she was moist.

She was wearing a wrap-around black skirt, a black garter belt and stockings and a pair of black thong panties. She had on a thin white silk blouse and had come in without a bra that day, entrusting the modesty of her attire to the black jacket that matched her skirt. The jacket now hung on a peg by the door and her nipples began to harden against the soft silk.

She began to knead her breasts slowly, first through the blouse. Then she unbuttoned the blouse, and pulled it out of the waistband of her skirt. Her nipples were now rock hard and she was breathing in shallow gulps. Her right hand spread her skirt apart and she began to knead her crotch, quickly wetting her panties. She raised her bottom off her chair and hurriedly pulled the panties down. Her long middle finger found her clitoris and she moaned softly.

At this point her intercom buzzed. She paused and hoped it would stop. It buzzed again. She stopped and pressed the 'receive' button. 'Yes, ' she said, failing to keep the irritated note out of her voice.

It was Sophie, her secretary. 'There's a gentleman here. He's interested in one of the Taylor landscapes that you appraised yesterday. '

She sighed. 'OK, ' she said. Before she could say anything further, her door opened and Jack stood there. He shut the door behind him quietly. She just sat transfixed.

Her blouse hung open and her magnificent breasts were naked, covered with a fine sheen of sweat. Small droplets clung to her nipples. Her skirt was open at the seam and rucked up almost to her waist. Her garter straps and stocking tops were in plain sight. She was still breathing heavily.

He deliberately took off his tie and jacket and advanced on her.

'Please give me a moment to get ready... ' she said weakly.

He did not appear to hear her. He was attractive and in her present state, she was vulnerable. He sank to his knees in front of her and buried his head in her crotch. He was rough, but amazingly adept. His tongue raced around her thick nether lips and found her clitoris unerringly. Within a minute she was gasping again, this time more quickly and sharply. Wordless cries came from her mouth. Within another minute, she began to come. He slowed, but did not stop. She was arching her back and bucking as she came, but his grip on her thighs remained firm and his tongue did not lose contact.

The next thing she knew, his hot musky breath was on her neck and she felt his hard manhood at her crotch. He entered her without ceremony, not gently, but with a smooth thrust. He was huge, thick as well as long, bigger than anyone she had had before. She was consequently very tight on him and stripped back his foreskin effortlessly. He was six inches into her with his first thrust, another two with his second and entered her completely only with his third.

He began to piston her, with a hard, driving rhythm and now her cries were loud and unrestrained. She began ascending to a second climax very quickly and just as she felt its contractions engulf her, she felt the flood of thick, hot, viscous semen shoot into her womb and fill her. He kept pounding at her in short stabs for another minute before he slowed and stopped. He withdrew gradually and she felt his thick come slowly sliding down her thighs like lava. Her fingers fluttered down and she felt herself wet from belly to lower thigh.

His face rested between her full breasts. Then he sat back on his haunches.

'I'm Isabelle de la Roque, ' she said faintly.

'I'm Jack Grierson, Martin's father, ' he said.

He held out his hand and she shook it gingerly. 'I have an attached bathroom here, ' she said, 'I'll be right back. '

2. They were sitting in Martin's mother's boudoir, just a few minutes before dinner. Isabelle and Martin were visiting his parents' country home for the weekend and Carmen had drawn her away for a little 'chat'. Carmen was blonde and very well-preserved in a country sort of way.

'I am so pleased about your engagement, ' she said earnestly, 'Martin is such a wonderful boy, I am sure that we agree. I don't know where he gets it from. Certainly not from his father. '

Isabelle, who had just had a quick but unsatisfactory afternoon romp with Martin in his bedroom upstairs, found that she could agree wholeheartedly. 'Why do you say that?' she asked carefully.

'Oh, I am sure that Martin has told you everything, ' she said, only slightly nervous., 'Jack's not a very faithful husband. In fact, he's probably one of the worst philanderers in the Western world. ' She paused and sighed. 'We have a good arrangement. He's been a good father to Martin and is good for Kelly. ' She sighed again. 'I won't say that some of the young hussies don't get to me sometimes. One of Kelly's Norwegian au pairs had the nerve to tell me that she would be generous to me after Jack divorced me. And that Farah Hojjat, his assistant who is up here working over the weekend sometimes. Its always awkward when we have company and he's banging her in the summer house. But you're not interested in this... ' She trailed off.

'No, no, ' she assured her, 'I am always keen to learn about my new family. ' She leaned over and put her hand on Carmen's thigh. 'You are very good. My mother was not nearly as forgiving when my father had his affairs. '

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

'But Jack is good to you as well?' Isabelle queried gently, 'If all these women want him, he must have plenty to give?'

'Oh, once a week or so he rings my bell all right. ' Carmen giggled and Isabelle hugged her. They rose and walked down to the dining room hand in hand.

3. It was after dinner, and Jack and Isabelle were walking in the garden with thirteen-year-old Kelly. Martin and Carmen were going over the wedding guest list and other arrangements, while Isabelle declared an interest in going outdoors for a breath of air.

Isabelle was wearing a flowery knee-length dress, a pearl choker and white open-toe high-heels - dressing the part of the English upper class, country bride. She had on white stockings and out of sight, white thong panties and a white garter belt. She was confident in her firmness and so had not put her bra back on after her afternoon romp with Martin. She wondered if Carmen had noticed during their little chat before dinner. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that young Kelly had certainly noticed.

'I was wondering if you could explain the principle of subsidiarity to me, Jack, ' Isabelle said, 'I've been reading the Treaty and the principle makes no sense to me. '

'Certainly, ' he said, 'I'll need some paper and a pencil. Back in the house...'

'Don't you have any in the summer house?' she asked, 'Its stuffy in the house. '

'Sure, I always have some there, ' he said.

'Daddy, are you going to have some boring talk?' Kelly demanded.

'Yes, munchkins, I'm afraid so. '

'Then can I go over to the stables with Fiona?' Fiona was the chauffeur's daughter. Jack nodded.

They entered the summer house together. 'I hear that you're always banging your hussies here, ' Isabelle whispered.

'Not all of them are hussies, ' said Jack, laughing. Then more seriously, 'But I don't think that we should do this. That thing in your office was just bad timing. '

She stopped and looked him straight in the eye. 'Do you think that I would go ahead with marrying Martin if it meant that I couldn't have you?'

He hesitated. 'What would you do?' he asked.

'I'd gently break it off with Martin and become one of your hussies, 'she said evenly.

Jack hesitated no longer. He was a man of action, not words. He undid his trousers and dropped them. He was already half-tumescent. He reached behind her and found the zipper of her dress. It slid off her and pooled around her feet. He stood back for a moment to admire her. Just her pearl choker, white thong panties and garter belt and white high-heels. He picked her up and laid her on the long couch that he always used. She lifted her rump and allowed him to strip her panties down.

He was on her in an instant. What Martin had been unable to do through the whole act, Jack did on entry - he drew a gasp of pleasure from her. And whilst she had not even been aroused in the afternoon, she felt as though she had a fever by the time that Jack had entered her completely. She tried to muffle her cries, but within a few minutes she was rising to climax and all was forgotten. She cried out hoarsely, and bucked and twisted as Jack kept pistoning into her. She came.

He did not stop. She was now soaking wet, but her cunt was still tight and hot on his huge dick. She was begging him to take her now and then felt herself rising to another climax. 'Yes... yes... YES...YES!! YES!!' she was saying in a continuous litany that rose to a crescendo. As she began to come again, he erupted, pumping hot, viscous semen into her through half a dozen pounding thrusts.

Back in the house, Carmen tapped her pencil and cocked her head to one side. 'Did you hear something, dear?' she asked.

'No, what were you thinking of?' Martin said absently, ticking items on his list.

'It sounded like Kelly whooping in one of her chasing games again. You know, yes, yes, yes, yes, that sort of thing. '

'No, didn't hear it, mother. Your hearing's always better than mine.'