On The Job (Part 6)

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Chapter Fifty: On The Job (Part 6)

During the rest of the morning, I was with my crew finishing the work down in the basement. Around 11:30, I went out to the pool house to see how Roger’s crew was coming along. When I got there, I didn’t see Roger. Now where was that asshole hiding out? I saw Hank Andrews coming down the path, carrying a spool of fiber optic cable. I asked, “Hank, where in the hell did Roger go?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. He went after this cable over an hour ago. I finally had to go up to the van and get it myself.”

Instantly, I realized where that no good son of a bitch had to be. I turned and jogged back up the path. When I came around to the front of the mansion, I saw the Steele’s chauffer pulling their big black Mercedes up by the front walk. In a moment, Emily and Christine came out. They were both dressed in short tight-fitting skirts and matching sweaters. Damn, they both looked great. Christine brushed by me and got into the car, without saying a word. Emily paused and said, “Mr. Bradley, you’re all out of breath. You really have to slow down. Don’t over do it, this job isn’t so important that you have to kill yourself. I’d feel terrible if anything happened to you. What’s the problem?”

“Don’t worry Mrs. Steele. I’m used to it. I was just looking for Mr. Willman. I have to discuss something with him.”

“Oh, is he that nice man, who came in the other van?”

“He came in the other van. Have you seen him?”

“Yes, he was helping Hilda up in my bathroom. The sink was clogged and he offered his assistance. You know Mr. Bradley; I do believe it’s turning cooler today. I noticed it as soon as I stepped outside.” Emily glanced down and said, “I shouldn’t have worn this short skirt. The wind whips up under it and it seems as if I’m suddenly more sensitive to the temperature. I can’t imagine why that should be. Well, I’ll not delay you any longer Mr. Bradley. It seems as if you’re very anxious to find Mr. Willman.” Emily got into the car and it pulled away.

Oh, I was anxious to find that sneaky bastard, Roger Fucking Willman, all right! I suspected I knew exactly where he’d be. I went inside and raced up to the second floor. I stopped in front of Emily Steele’s door and listened. Yeah, that no good prick was in there; I could hear him snorting like a racehorse coming down the home stretch. I pulled out the master key I’d made, unlocked the big double doors and stepped inside. That Hilda made the cutest jockey I’d ever seen. Roger was lying back in the huge bed. Hilda was crouched astride him and her beautiful rounded ass was bouncing up and down. Roger’s cock was pistoning in and out of her pussy on each bounce. Of course, they were too preoccupied to notice my presence and I stepped a little closer to get a better look. Hilda’s big tits were dangling right over Roger’s face, which was very good. It blocked his view and I didn’t have to see the look of pleasure that was probably plastered across his disgusting mug.

Obviously, this action was making me very hot. My tool was at full alert, Code Red. Now I saw one of Roger’s hands snake around to Hilda’s ass. Soon, he had a finger well nested in her tight asshole and began ramming it home. Hilda cried out, “Oh yes, God yes!”

Jesus Christ, I couldn’t take any more of this. My tool was throbbing and my heart was pounding like the ghost of Gene Krupa playing an extended riff on a set of heavenly skins. I didn’t have time to get undressed. I quickly kicked off my shoes, mindful of the expensive bed coverings. I unzipped my fly. The damned thing was almost jammed, due to the pressure my stiff tool was exerting on it. At last, I had my tool out and was ready for action. Continuing to think in racetrack metaphors, I determined that this sexy jockey, Hilda, was soon to be riding the rail.

I jumped up onto the bed and yanked Roger’s hand away from Hilda’s asshole. He yelled out in obvious surprise, “What the fuck!” Hilda screamed and swiveled her head around just in time to see me guiding the head of my swollen tool into the puckered entrance of her asshole. Hilda moaned, when I grasped her trim little waist and quickly thrust forward. Immediately, my tool was well entrenched within her tight hot ass and I said, “OK, let’s carry on.”

Roger growled, “God damn you Bill, you lousy fucker!”

As I began to slide my tool in and out between Hilda’s plump butt cheeks, I said, “Don’t take a break now Roger. Get going and we’ll see who the lousy fucker is. Hilda can decide.”

Hilda was still moaning a little, as her asshole stretched to accommodate my stiff member. Roger said, “OK baby, get going. Don’t let that little bastard spoil my fun.”

I could feel Roger thrusting his cock up into Hilda’s pussy and then she began to move up and down on it again. Almost instantly, we developed a perfect rhythm. This was the only time Roger and I had ever worked well together. As his cock slid into Hilda’s pussy, my tool was sliding out of her tight ass. When I thrust my tool back into her ass, he was sliding his cock out of her pussy. It was obvious that this double fucking was making Hilda crazy with excitement. As we picked up the pace, Hilda began to wail, “OH GOD, YES, YES, YES!” In a very few minutes, Roger trumpeted like a wounded bull elephant and shot his load. Hearing him have so much fun, really pissed me off, but I determined to ignore that and concentrate on the job at hand. I tightened my grasp on Hilda’s waist and began to drive my tool home with renewed vigor. Now Hilda was coming out with a sharp little screech on each of my inward thrusts. Then suddenly, she went off like a World War Two air raid siren, as she came. Within seconds, I followed her and my hot cum exploded into her ass.

Later, as the three of us lay on the bed panting and dripping with sweat, “I said, “OK Roger, play time is over. Get dressed and get your sorry ass back down to the pool house. Roger treated me to another one of his shitty smirking smiles and said sarcastically, “Yes sir boss! You da’ man!”

After Roger left, Hilda rolled onto her stomach, sighed and said, “It’s certainly been a very eventful morning Mr. Bradley.”

The plump mounds of Hilda’s butt cheeks were too tempting to resist. I gave her ass a couple of sharp spanks and said, “Yes it has Hilda. Yes it has.”

During the rest of the day, I watched for the black Mercedes to return. I wanted a chance to talk to Christine. Every time I thought about that cute chubby teen, I got a warm mushy feeling in my heart. That was a very bad sign. I should be avoiding her like the plague. I still remembered that moment of insanity the first time I came to her room and saw her dressed in that sexy nightgown. Hell, I was crazy enough to have visions of marrying her. Even now, a picture of some future life with a cute chubby wife and a bunch of rug rats running around the estate was unfolding in my mind. Then Roger Willman’s disgusting bray interrupted my reverie. This time, I actually welcomed the distraction. Roger strode up to the van and said, “Well another hard day’s work comes to a close Billy Boy.”

I said glumly, “Fuck you Roger.”

“Hey Bill, now that we’re such good buddies, maybe you can tell me something.”

“I can tell you to go fuck yourself. What else do you need to know?”

“Well, I could swear that sink trap was completely plugged up with dark pussy hair. Now how do you think that could have happened? What kind of kinky shit were you doing up there this morning?”

I replied in a calm reasonable tone, “Fuck you Roger.”

“You know something Billy Boy. I feel sorry for you. You’re never going to be happy. Do you want to know why?”

“I wasn’t in the mood for another homily on my personality, but I knew Roger wouldn’t let the subject drop. I said, “OK Roger, tell me why you feel sorry for me.”

“Well Bill, there’s millions of females in this world an
d new ones are being made every minute. You’ll never be able to fuck them all and that must drive you crazy. I
‘ll bet you lay awake at night thinking about that.”

I said, “Fuck you Roger!” Then, I got into my van and started to drive away.

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