Closing the Sale


Working as a self-employed agent selling home ventilation systems wasn’t a great job, but only because it involved quite a high proportion of appointments at night: it was sometimes frustrating to complete an apparently successful sales pitch to the lady of the house during the day, only to have to go back on another night to convince her husband. However, otherwise there wasn’t much of a downside; the product was good, the supplier provided most of the leads, and I got a number of referrals from satisfied clients. Conversely, there were a few occasions when I would carry out a presentation at night, only to have to go back during the day to close with the other partner. This happened one evening, when I met a well-dressed middle-aged man at his home to assess his requirements and give him a quote. However although he agreed with my appraisal and quotation, he advised me that his acceptance of the quote was conditional on his wife’s approval. I phoned the next morning and spoke to the lady of the house, and made an appointment to return that afternoon. The following day, I arrived at the couple’s home at the appointed time, to find, to my growing annoyance that there was nobody home. I called the husband on his mobile, and he expressed his surprise that his wife was not home, as they had discussed my pending visit that morning over breakfast. After half an hour, I was on the point of leaving when a late model BMW sedan pulled into the driveway. The woman who alighted leisurely was tall, well built and well covered, just as I like them, and a good looker for her age, which I put at late forties. She was well dressed and well made-up, and eyed me up and down as she crossed from the drive to where I stood on the front steps. Stopping at the foot of the steps she looked at me shrewdly before asking, “Were you early, or am I late?” Swallowing my annoyance, I responded politely, “Perhaps we misunderstood one another, but I thought we were meeting at two!” “Sorry!” she replied, not looking in the least bit apologetic, “I got held up!” Climbing the steps to unlock the door, she stepped inside, flapping her hand in a vague gesture, which Rus Escort izmir I understood to mean to follow her inside. Closing the door behind me, I followed her through to the dining room, where she deposited her shopping on the table. Turning to face me across the table, she said “My husband tells me that we should buy a ventilation system from you. You’ll have to persuade me!” Mastering my exasperation and fixing a smile on my face, I began my presentation but hadn’t got more than I few words out when she held a hand up, cutting me off in mid-flow. “Excuse me, but my feet are killing me!” Kicking off her shoes, she bent to pick them up, giving me an eyeful of the tops of her ample breasts and her deep cleavage. Straightening, she told me to take a seat, while she went and changed. Fuming at her casual interruption, I nevertheless smiled politely and took a seat at the table as she padded out in stockinged feet. She was back within minutes, a silky robe wrapped about her, tied at the waist in place of her blouse and skirt. Stopping at the door to the dining room she offered abruptly “Drink?” When I suggested coffee, she responded bluntly, “I’m pouring a drink, not making one! Wine?” As I had no other appointment that afternoon, I nodded. She turned to go back to the kitchen, returning with two large glasses of cold, white wine. Sitting opposite me at the table, she pushed a glass across to me, took a sip from her own and then drank half of the rest of her wine in two or three long swallows. Taking a sip of my own, I put the glass down and opened my folder; about to begin again where she had interrupted me earlier, but again she forestalled me by raising a hand. “I don’t need the sales spiel!” she told me bluntly, “You’ve already sold my husband!” “I thought you asked me to persuade you?” I responded. “That’s right, I did!” she told me, “But if he’s decided that your product is good, it probably is. He’s not stupid,” she went on, “and he’s a good provider, but he’s not much good for anything else!” She looked at me appraisingly, to see if I was following her. I wasn’t sure that I was, izmir otele gelen escort but I smiled again, nodding encouragingly. I noticed that she was playing with the edge of her robe, twitching it as if to pull it closed, but only succeeding in pulling the edges further apart. “He’s no good to me in bed!” she continued, “In fact he likes to see me with other men!” She had my full attention now. “I think he might be a closet gay!” “Ah, why is that? I mumbled. “He likes to be fucked by other men, after they’ve had me!” she told me, watching me closely. “Don’t you think that’s more than a bit strange?” Thrown off-guard by the turn of the conversation, and the abruptness of it, I stumbled over my response. “Ah, I’ve ah, heard that many um, middle-aged couples, ah, experiment um, sexually once their children are off their hands.” I stammered. “Perhaps you’re a closet gay too?” she challenged me. With a sudden flash of clarity I saw where this was leading and responded accordingly. Reaching across the table I grabbed her by one wrist, jerking her to her feet as I stood, leaning across the table to meet her as I pulled her to me. Tipping her head back with my free hand, I bent to kiss her hard on the mouth, my tongue probing her lips. She barely hesitated before responding, opening her mouth wide, and her lips enveloping mine as her tongue fought its way into my mouth. Dropping my hand from her chin I reached into her robe. Her big tits swung free beneath the silk. Feeling for her nipples I found each in turn, pinching and rolling them to hardness as we kissed. She began to pant, her hot breath gusting into my open mouth. Still holding her wrist firmly I broke our kiss and moved around the table to face her. Resuming our kiss as I pressed her back against the table, I pulled the tie of her robe open, feeling her soft round belly, my fingers finding what felt like a suspender belt. Breaking our kiss momentarily I looked down; her robe hung open from her shoulders, her big breasts spilling out, and beneath it she wore a suspender belt and sheer, dark stockings, but nothing else. Moving Buca escort bayan back into her, my mouth seeking hers, one hand went to her breasts as the other reached between her thighs. My questing fingers found a plump, well-furred mound, divided by a deep groove with thick, crinkled pussy lips. Delving inside, I found her warm and already very wet. My fingertips sought and found the small, growing nub of her clitoris, teasing it to swell to a small, hard prominence between her weeping lower lips. Gasping into my mouth, her hands sought my zip, tugging it down to reach inside and grasp my swollen cock, freeing it from my clothing. However no sooner had she released it into the cool air of than the room than she took both hands from it and twisted from my embrace. “No!” she gasped, “I don’t want to!” Grabbing her by the arm as she pulled away, I pulled her back to me. “Don’t give me that!” I growled, “We both know you want it!” Grasping her firmly by the shoulders I pushed her to her knees before me, ordering harshly “Suck me! Get my cock in your mouth and suck me! Do it nicely or I’ll knock you out!” I had no intention of hitting her, but I was confident that she wanted rough talk. Even before I had finished speaking she had my cock in her mouth, sucking urgently. I held her by the head, rocking back and forth, pumping my cock gently in her suctioning mouth. Reaching up she undid my belt and trouser waist, tugging my trousers to my ankles; one hand cupping my balls as the other lightly stroked the base of my shaft. Her expert ministrations distracted me and I released her head, letting her bob it up and down to meet my slow, short thrusts. Obviously aware of my unfocussed attention, she suddenly let go of my cock and scrambled away on hands and knees. Leaping after her, I measured my length on the floor: the knowing bitch had effectively hobbled me with my pants around my ankles. Kicking my trousers and underpants from my feet as I lay on the floor, I looked up at her broad white backside wobbling as she crawled away. Diving after her, I grabbed her by one ankle, dragging her back to me as I got back up onto my knees. Thrashing about in an effort to escape me, her exertions served only to reveal her excitement by revealing her swollen, gaping and very wet vulva. Leaping onto her like a beast on its prey, I forced one arm up her back, not as hard as to be painful, pressing my painfully swollen cock into the valley of her meaty buttocks.

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