When we were both dressed and respectable again we sauntered along the lawns and admired the flowers to make our excursion look like one of an horticultural nature. Lucky for us no one had noticed our absence. I got back into the waiting room without Samantha's noticing it. And five minutes later the regal private secretary announced that Mrs. Van de Kut would see me.
CHAPTER TWO
Martha led me through the stately home, up to double walnut doors, where we stopped. She knocked once and a strong voice told us to come in. "You go," she whispered, and ran down the carpeted corridor. I squared my shoulders and entered. Mrs. Van de Kut stood before tall windows through which the sunlight flooded, giving her a clear view of me but giving me nothing more than a silhouette. Nothing was said for a moment. Then she came closer and inspected me with a frown on her face. She was a most attractive woman, over six feet in height, icy blue eyes, chestnut hair piled on her head, a massive bosom and full hips pushing at a long gown, and she quite intimidated me. I did my best not to show it
"Sit down, Mr. Mac… Mac… oh, I'll just call you Mac," she said brusquely.
"Thank you Mrs. Van," I said. She looked at me sharply but overlooked my familiarity. Terms were discussed most cursorily. Mrs. Van sat on the couch next to me. If it hadn't been for her regal demeanor I would have sworn she was trying to seduce me. One of her hands rested lightly on my shoulder and whenever she wanted to make a point clear she leaned toward me so that her lips were far too close to mine-for comfort, that is. I started to respond to her sensuality even though my cock was a ragged, limp bit of meat that had done its duty four times in quick succession, and now wanted only rest.
The man for this job must be trustworthy," she said in softer tones," stroking my chest nonchalantly. "He must be of strong moral fibre, a man with inner strength. Are you such a man, Mr. Mac?"
"You've described me to a tee," I grinned weakly. Her hand was closing in on my cock. Every part of me was aroused except that pitiful member. There was nothing I could do about it, so I feigned indifference to her advances and tried to listen to what she was saying. Her preamble went on and on, just as her hands did. She caressed my cock openly now and weighed my balls from outside my pants. A little later she undid my zip and reached into my briefs to get at my cock. I was flushed with shame. How could I explain to her that her daughter had blown me twice in a row and had drained me utterly?
"Perhaps I'm not your type," Mrs. Van said suddenly, more to herself than to me. She pulled away from me and tugged at a length of cord dangling from the ceiling. A moment later a maid walked in. She wore the uniform of the house, black on black with a little white apron, black panty hose and black shoes. Underneath the trappings of a maid pulsed the body of a beautiful woman, that much was clear. I eyed her with interest, just as she eyed my wide-open fly. "Lorraine, would you close the door and take off your clothes for this gentleman, please. I'd like to see his response."
As if this had happened a thousand times before, the maid nodded and carried out the woman's orders. She unbuttoned her dress once her apron had been unpinned, and neatly draped both garments over a nearby chair. Then, wearing only a bra and panty hose, she removed the little hat she wore in her hair, and approached us. Mrs. Van put her hand back over my cock and squeezed it slowly as we both watched the maid take off the rest of her clothes.
My interest mounted by the second but that was all. Her big tits pushed out at me, white and bulbous, capped by pink nipples set in wide pink rings, and when she was sure she had all of my attention, she shook them from side to side. Seeing tits is one thing, seeing them in motion quite another. The sight of so much feminine wealth made me shake with lust. My face literally ached to dive in between those vanilla puddings, to smother myself and savor the smoothness of her flesh. She certainly gave me a chance to do it but the limpness of my cock made me defensive. "Very nice," I said with an approving nod, and I crossed my legs and lit a cigarette.
The maid gave Mrs. Van a questioning look. The dowager nodded for her to go on. She hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her panty hose and began to shimmy out of it. The way her hips rotated was delicious, and the dark, triangular intimation of pubic hair under the stretch fabric set my blood coursing through my veins. And still my cock played dead. Would it ever rise again? Every inch of me was hard and hot except for that abused member! The pantyhose slid down her hips, inch by inch, revealing more white, smooth flesh, more than I could take! Now her brush of hair emerged, further down, the deeper shadow of her slit appeared, I could see it, I could taste it! But I couldn't do anything about it. She had only to call my bluff and the jig would be up.
Finally she stepped out of the garment and paraded before me stark naked. Each time she turned her back on me my hands itched to dig into those heavy masses of flesh that made up her ass. With every step her buns twisted and flounced, shook with sensual power, and then, as if that wasn't bad enough, she liked to bend over a little so that the dense bush covering her cunt sprouted out from her inner thighs, further still to make her cunt part and afford me a glimpse of pink. I was trembling all over, pulling at my cigarette and breathing in great lungs full of smoke to steady my nerves.
"Remarkable self-control, Mr. Mac," said Mrs. Van. "Yes, I would say you're the man for the job. Anyone who can resist Lorraine is definitely not red-blooded. Sometimes I wish I wasn't, because I can never resist this tasty wench. Come over here, dear, and massage me."
I expected the maid to grab hold of Mrs. Van's shoulders but instead the naked woman kneeled down before her mistress, lifted the hem of her long dress, and stuck her head under it. She moved her face right up to the matron's crotch and clearly put her all into this oral massage. Mrs. Van sat back and closed her eyes, letting out a deep sigh and now and then, but she was immobile for the rest. Lorraine did all the work and by the sound of it it was a labor of love to her. Her head moved from side to side and up and down under the dress, wet noises and smacking sounds abounded, and Mrs. Van seemed to melt into a puddle of contentment. I felt very peculiar. Lorraine's big, delicious ass was sticking out at the world in general, anyone would be welcome at that point. And there I was, next to my prospective employer who was getting her pussy eaten, with a vacant cunt going begging, and all I could do was sit there and chain smoke! It was the unhappiest half hour in my life.
"Oh dear!" I heard Mrs. Van say suddenly. "Stop, Lorraine, that's enough now, oh my goodness, oh, oh stop, stop, oh-oh-ooooooooohhhh Lorraine, no more, ooohh yeeeessssssss, unh, unh, aaaaaaaaaaahhhhh, lovely." Brisk, businesslike, she lifted her skirt, let the maid crawl out, and resumed the conversation. "Let me feel," she said, sticking her hand through my open fly and squeezing my cock. "Just as I thought, not a reaction. Good, Mr. Mac, you're hired."
"This is a very unusual procedure," I said in a quavering voice.
"I'm sure. However, your job is to go to a girls' boarding school to find out who kidnapped my daughter, Laurel. I wouldn't want a satyr to take on that job, for obvious reasons."
"I see." Wow, that was a lucky break! A girls' boarding school! I could just see Vinnie's face when he heard the news. And I could just see my face, too. Quickly I pulled a serious expression over the gleeful one and said: "But if your daughter has been kidnapped, why don't you contact the police?"
"Nothing is certain in this case," said Mrs. Van with a disdainful smirk. "No ransom notes have been delivered, all I know is that she's missing and I want you to find her. The headmistress, a Miss Parsons, will be notified of your arrival and she will find room for you to stay while you conduct your investigation." The maid had dressed and left the room to fetch us coffee. "You see, Laurel is the sole heir to the family assets," said Mrs. Van in a hushed voice. "She may have been persuaded to elope or something dreadful, and in that case I don't want to bring the police into it and alarm the news media. She would only get a reputation that would attract other fortune hunters. You understand this case calls for discretion, of course?"