Francesca was bored. She was hidden away in her obnoxiously large English mansion whilst her husband was away on business - AGAIN. She felt ever so neglected, this was not the love and excitement filled life he had promised her.
She had played all the games to completion on the diamond encrusted XBOX. The special edition solid platinum PS4 was broken because the dog wee’d on it, so much for it being waterproof. Endless cardio in their fully fitted gym just wasn’t cutting it, what she needed was a jolly good seeing to.
She was gazing out of the front window - one of many front windows she was pleased she didn’t have to clean. The COAL MAN WAS DRIVING UP TO THE ENTRANCE, his van crunching over the gravel slowly.
He was HOT.
She put down her giant coffee filled mug that was printed with life affirming quotes, and raced to the front door in her socks, accidentally slipping across and landing in a heap against the THICK WOOD of the aforementioned door. Three HARD THUDS rocked it in its frame, and she gathered herself up, pushing her tousled hair from her face and tidying it up a bit.
She opened the door. He was all dirty. She greeted him enthusiastically, shooing away the housekeeper who was trying to elbow her way in.
“Go AWAY MAUREEN!” she hissed behind the door.
”Gosh you look like you’ve been working hard today Michael”, she said to the coal man as she eyed the streaks of coal and sweat on his topless torso. He was only wearing a dirty pair of Levi 501s, and steel toe capped boots. His hands were in gloves of course, but he pulled those off and dropped them on the steps.
He beamed at her, his eyes lighting up with that perfect grin that made her happy in the pants.
“Shall I go to the back entrance with my delivery as usual miss?” He asked her, not taking his eyes away from hers.
“Yes of course but when you’re finished please come back because I want to talk to you”, she offered in response.
He winked at her and went to grab their weekly delivery from the van, his muscles rippled and moved which made her bite down on her lip and a sharp intake of breath. She watched him throw it over his shoulder effortlessly, his boots crunching over the gravel as he went to the back entrance to fill her woefully empty coal bunker.
She slammed the front door, and ran through the house at stupid speed to get to the back entrance, and pulled open the double doors to make her way to the bunker. He was just undoing the bag and was emptying the bricks. He didn’t see her until he’d finished, wiping his hands on his jeans after stupidly taking his gloves off before.
She let her eyes travel up and down his body, biting her lip again and watching him try to clean his hands off a bit more. She stepped back and insisted that he come inside so he could at least wash his hands.
“Oh no I couldn’t do that miss, I’ll get your insides all dirty!”
“Nothing that won’t clean up now, I insist. It’s very hot out there, come inside and have a break and clean up.”
She could hear the housekeeper lurking in the background again and she gritted her teeth and turned around to glare at her.
“That will be ALL Maureen, you are finished for the afternoon.”
She directed his hotness to the sink, but he didn’t want to get her taps filthy so he asked her to switch them on for him. He was right behind her, he smelled of coal and musk and sweat, it made her head reel. She tossed her hair a little, she wanted him to feel it on his face.
“Oh I need to get some soap out from under the sink just a moment”, she said softly, thrusting her shapely backside against him without any warning, knowing full well his filthy jeans would mucky up her soft pink Prada leggings, but she didn’t care.
He must have sensed what she wanted because he didn’t move an inch, her glorious behind was pressed hard against his lap, and she could feel something stirring..
She grabbed a bottle of Marks and Spencer’s tea tree and mint liquid soap, and turned around, leaning back against the sink, his coal streaked face with those deep brown eyes gazing back at her. She met his gaze and a singular trickle of sweat moving down between his chest and onto his abs, caught her eye. She held the soap up briefly, but her eyes told him all he needed to know. Before she knew it, his filthy, coal streaked hands were in her hair, one moving down to the curve of her glorious Prada wrapped rump. He grabbed at her like a hungry wolf, growling in her mouth, kissing her like he wanted to eat her.
He reached around her and tore the leggings off her to reveal that her GLORIOUS CLAM was knicker free, and only slightly adorned with a neatly trimmed lady garden.
He dropped to his knees, and decided that now would be the perfect time to go muff diving. The fuzz on her beaver tickled his nose and made him sneeze once, but it wasn’t long before his tongue was going a filthy fandango against her flaps at the sink.
She buried her hands in the darkness of his hair, gripping it and writhing against him, thinking about what she would find inside his jeans.
She pulled him upwards, his face smeared with her tender juices as she kissed them off him. She unbuckled his jeans and reached inside, feeling his pulsing shaft bursting for her touch. She pushed his jeans down to the floor, and he reached around her again, picking her up effortlessly to mount her on his throbbing member. He thrust into her, her neglected love hole filled once more with a man and his trouser tackle. They were both smeared in coal and sweat, tangled together in a mess of lust and desire. He turned her around, and rested his hands on her ample rump, pumping her lady garden like his life depended on it.
One hand grabbed her hair, and she moaned out loud about how she’d been longing for his meat, but it went unheard as he pounded against her and filled her with his fantastic seed of love, right at the moment her precious lady glove clamped around him and climaxed. They slumped against the sink, panting heavily smeared with coal and infidelity. “Oh Michael”, she breathed. “That was best I’ve ever had!”