Mr. Worthington's Writer's Block

He made Natalie shut her eyes as he gently applied the cream to Natalie's face and neck.

"Need some balm," Mr. Worthington observed, lightly tracing Natalie's lips with his fingertip.

"Can I, may I get you too?" Natalie asked.

"Have already done so; do so religiously," he smiled and pulled a large floppy hat on. "Which is why, at age fifty, I do not look to be an old wrinkled prune."

"And you're quite fit for a man of fifty," Natalie agreed.

"Thank you, but you really shouldn't speak in so familiar a manner," the man chided, trying to hide his pleased smile.

As they pulled weeds, then watered the various shrubbery and flowers, Mr. Worthington told Natalie the names of each and the best growing conditions.

After both were quite sweaty, he called an end to their work and ushered them into the house.

"You put up a wooden fence; their old fence was one of them chain link ones, Natalie observed.

"I do my yoga and my Tai Chi in my garden," Mr. Worthington explained. "As my attire is rather revealing, I'd prefer a little privacy."

Natalie hid her smirk as she glanced to the rear of the fence. On the other side of that wall of wooden planks was Jimmy King's house and Jimmy King was a pervert. He'd tried several times to put a camera in the girl's bathroom at Kimble Academy.

That evening, Natalie did make sure to pull her panties on with her nightgown, as well as the robe before leaving the sanctity of her bathroom.

The following morning, Natalie glanced out the window and almost screamed. Mr. Worthington was outdoors, performing a very difficult yoga pose. And the man was completely nude.

As she'd already surmised, he was not bulging with muscles, but he did have a nice physique and his belly was flat. And Natalie could see that his penis, although flaccid, was thick, uncut.

Natalie let the curtain fall back in place and decided to dress for the day's labors. As she peeled her panties down, she realized that her panties were quite moist.

On Sundays, Mr. Worthington afforded Natalie the day off. On her first Sunday, Natalie rose, dressed and walked from the small house to the non-denomination church her parents attended. Their battered old Skylark was outside, as was Mrs. Weems' old Dodge minivan.

Natalie entered, found the pew her parents were sitting on, and slid in next to her mother.

"Oh, now don't you look nice?" her mother said and Natalie looked down at herself.

It was a simple short sleeve dress that buttoned to her throat and hung down to just above her knees. When she sat, the hem did rise to her thighs, showing off her pantyhose. The dress was a pale pink; Mr. Worthington had said it favored her reddish blonde hair, as well as her blue eyes.

"Thank you," Natalie said and nodded in greeting to a few of the friends of hers.

After church services, they returned to the Broussard's' trailer and had Sunday dinner. Both her mother and father teased Natalie lightly about her 'proper English' and even started imitating a British accent.

Although she still went to church, then to her parents' for lunch, Natalie started counting the hours until she could return to Mr. Worthington's house.

Natalie had been in Mr. Worthington's employ for nearly two months when the telephone rang one afternoon.

"Mr. Worthington's res..." she chirped.

"The blind fruit loop there?" a harsh male voice snapped.

"I beg your pardon?" Natalie said, shocked.

"That old dick around?" the male voice snapped.

"Good bye," Natalie snapped and hung up.

"Bitch, you ever fucking hang up on me again..." the voice snarled when Natalie again answered the phone.

"I do not know who this is, nor do I care, but you are not to call here again," Natalie snapped and again hung up.

"Male? Using quite hurtful language," Mr. Worthington asked, face drawn in displeasure as the telephone rang a third time.

"Yes sir," Natalie angrily replied.

"That would be my son," the man said and picked up the telephone. "Hello Robert; I see you've still not learned manners."

He listened for a few moments, and then looked pointedly at Natalie. Natalie nodded her head and left the living room to give Mr. Worthington some privacy.

"Robert, do stop," Natalie heard him say

A moment later, Natalie heard the telephone being placed on its cradle.

"Miss Broussard, you are to chauffeur me to my bank," Mr. Worthington called out.

"Yes sir," Natalie called back and grabbed her purse.

On her second day of employment with Mr. Worthington, Natalie was told that her employer was very nearly blind and did not drive. On her third day of employment, she took and passed the driving test.

Natalie went into the garage, opened the door, and pulled the large Mercedes-Benz out. Mr. Worthington left through the front door and Natalie hurried to open the rear door of the car.

"Thank you," Mr. Worthington said.

"Welcome, sir," Natalie said.

The ride to the bank was a silent one; Mr. Worthington did not care for music, so Natalie didn't turn the radio on.

"Sir, am I to come in?" Natalie asked.

"Certainly," the man smiled tightly.

Heidi Moek, the Branch manager ushered Oscar and Natalie into her office and waited. Finally, Mr. Worthington spoke.

"My son, it would seem, has painted himself into the old financial corner. Again," he said.

Natalie's eyes opened wide at the amount of money Robert Worthington's had requested. She also noticed that Heidi's eyes barely flickered at the mention of the dollar amount.

"So, you would like to wire this to..." Heidi said.

"Ms. Moek, please tell me the dates and amounts of my last three transfers to Robert Worthington," he requested.

Natalie saw the beginning of a tear in Mr. Worthington's eye and discretely opened her purse and handed the man a linen handkerchief.

As Heidi did read out the dates and dollar amounts, Natalie saw the tear dry up and a hardness develop in his blue eyes.

"No, Ms. Moek, I don't believe I'll be sending him any... No, no, I say, let us send him one dollar," he declared.

Heidi tried to hide her smile as she rapidly typed out the transfer.

"Will there be anything else, Mr. Worthington?" Heidi asked.

"No, dear, but thank you," Mr. Worthington said and got to his feet.

"Hello Robert, I've sent you the money and believe me, this is the last you'll be receiving from me. You do have a mother; remember her? Bled me quite dry during the divorce? See about siphoning some from her, would you? But again, I tell you, you'll not receive one penny more from me," Mr. Worthington said into his cell phone and then turned the appliance off.

"Natalie will be answering my own telephone for the foreseeable future," he instructed.

"Yes sir," Natalie said.

"We need to see about getting you a chauffeur's uniform," Mr. Worthington said, suddenly feeling a little giddy, a little playful. "Yes, yes, with the hat and all."

"Yes sir," Natalie smiled as the man playfully touched the back of Natalie's head.

"A cap, shame it would hide all that lovely hair; you'd have to tuck it up under," he chuckled.

The telephone was ringing when Natalie answered the house through the garage door and she almost ran to answer it, and then remembered Mr. Worthington's statement that he would be answering the telephone.

"The old dick's home," she heard Mr. Worthington answer. "Why hello Robert; what an unpleasant surprise."

Natalie stood still and listened.

"No, Robert, one dollar and not a penny more; you've pissed away nearly one hundred thousand in just the last six months alone," the man said tightly.

Natalie sidled to the opposite door, deciding to go to her room.

"Robert, you are twenty seven years old, it is high time for you to grow up," Mr. Worthington snapped. "Here's a thought; try earning your own way in life."

Natalie closed the door to her room.

Thirty minutes later, Natalie came out of her room. The house was silent. She found Mr. Worthington seated on the couch in the living room, just silently staring at the wall. Then the man turned his head and looked at Natalie through his impossibly thick glasses.

In that instant, Oscar Worthington looked every bit of his fifty years of age.

"I'm ready to go shopping for my chauffeur's uniform, sir," Natalie said, hoping to bring some levity to the situation.

Mr. Worthington cocked his head to the side, regarding Natalie, then a smile broke out across his face and Natalie smiled.

"And a cap to hide all of that lovely hair," Mr. Worthington agreed, getting to his feet. "Let us have some tea; I do feel like a spot of hot, sweet tea; just the thing to soothe the nerves."

As he bustled about the small kitchen, Natalie could see the years melting away, and once again, the man was the ageless specimen.

In the morning, Natalie peered through the window as Mr. Worthington really put his body through its paces. She stripped off her nightgown and panties and rubbed her lips as she watched Mr. Worthington's tight buttocks flex and undulate and the man's heavy balls and cock dangling, shining with sweat.

Then he spun around and Natalie squeaked, stepping back from the window. Then she smirked at her own silliness. Mr. Worthington could not see three feet in front of himself; there was no way he could see her spying on him.

Natalie hurried through her morning preparation and waited until she heard Mr. Worthington's door close before leaving her bedroom.

During her afternoon breaks, as Mr. Worthington worked on the rewrite his editor was demanding, Natalie read. She'd tired of reading the Parasols magazines and found a few romance style paperbacks on the shelves underneath the shelves that housed the magazines.

'Sisters in the Flesh' by Ophelia Brown had a cover that intrigued her; it showed a blond and brunette woman, both blessed with enormous breasts in tight bodices holding hands.

And it seemed that they were truly sisters; their father was married to the blonde's mother, and the brunette's mother was a Spanish maid hired to look after the house. And the master of the house had impregnated both women.

"Yes, Phyllis, yes, I just sent you the attachment and as soon as my damned printer finishes I'll be sending you the hard copy," Mr. Worthington snapped into his cell phone.

Natalie quickly memorized the page number and got to her feet.

"Oh, chauffeur, Mr. Worthington called out. "I shall need to run to the post."

"Right away, sir; I'll get my uniform on," Natalie called back.

"Why, Nate, are you running about in your all together?" Mr. Worthington teased, stepping into the living room.

"Nate?" Natalie asked, pretty face crinkled in amusement.

"A perfectly good name for a chauffeur, don't you think?" Mr. Worthington smiled. "Oh, but Nate, really! It's even worse than that! You're running about in women's clothing!"

"Yes sir, I'm afraid so," Natalie said and curtsied slightly.

"Well, no time to change; we really must be off to the post now," Mr. Worthington said and left the living room. "I must say, Nate, you really do make quite the figure as a woman though. I'm jealous."

"Thank you, sir, how nice of you to notice, sir," Natalie said, grabbing her purse.

"Last damned rewrite, I should say," Mr. Worthington muttered to himself as Natalie drove to the post office.

It was a few days later that Natalie heard a knock at the front door. She did check through the peephole; Mr. Worthington had said his son Robert would not be inclined to drive down from New York, but Natalie was still cautious.

"The smiling face of their mail carrier beamed up and Natalie swung the door open.

"Hey, how's it going; package too big go in the box," the woman smiled and Natalie thanked her.

"Mr. Worthington," Natalie called out, carrying the package toward his office. "Package came for you."

"Bet I know what it is," Mr. Worthington called back.

"Come," he called out when Natalie knocked on the door.

Natalie brought in the package, as well as the rest of the mail, and then backed out of the office.

"Oh, Nate, please come to my office," Mr. Worthington called out a moment later, a lilt in his voice.

Natalie put away her glass cleaning solution and went to Mr. Worthington's office.

"It simply will not do, Nate, it simply will not do," the man smiled as Natalie entered the office again. "This running around in women's' clothing; it must stop, do you hear?"

"Why, yes sir, terribly sorry sir," Natalie said, playing along.

She curtsied slightly.

"Now, off, off with those trappings," Mr. Worthington ordered.

"Beg your pardon, sir?" Natalie asked, a little surprised.

"We're going to dress you appropriately, Nate. You're to be a proper chauffeur, don't you know?" Mr. Worthington demanded and Natalie saw that the box was now open.

"No time to dawdle, Nate, let's go, off with the dress, or it'll be the sack for you," Mr. Worthington said and dug around in the box.

Natalie unzipped, and then shrugged out of the dress.

"Oh my, you've really gone all out, haven't you; you've even got on women's' knickers and all," Mr. Worthington said, trying to look displeased, but smiled.

"Yes sir, afraid I have," Natalie agreed, also smiling, despite feeling a little uncomfortable.

"Well, we've no time; suppose you'll just have to leave, will at least leave the pantyhose on," Mr. Worthington said.

After a moment's hesitation, Natalie did unhook her bra and drop it to the floor next to her dress

"And here we are," Mr. Worthington said, handing Natalie a pair of black trousers.

Natalie slid the trousers up her legs.

"You've really quite lovely legs, Nate, a shame really to hide them, I should say," Mr. Worthington said, pulling a man's shirt from the box. "Let's get you into this."

"Thank you, sir," Natalie said as Mr. Worthington pulled the shirt onto Natalie's arms.

Natalie buttoned up the shirt, taking a few moments longer as the buttons were on the wrong side.

"And," Mr. Worthington said, kneeling down to slip some black socks onto Natalie's feet.

Natalie had to put her hand on Mr. Worthington's shoulder for balance.

"Finished fastening that?" Mr. Worthington asked, then unzipped the trousers and tucked the shirt into the trousers. It seemed to Natalie that he did cup her buttocks a little often as he arranged shirt and trousers. Then he zipped the slacks up again.

"Looking more and more like a chauffeur every moment," he said as he looped a belt around Natalie's waist.

Natalie again put her hand on his shoulder to sept into the highly polished boots. Mr. Worthington pulled the chauffeur's jacket on and seemed to spend a little too much time rubbing Natalie's small breasts as he smoothed the jacket down.

"Almost done," the man smiled happily.

He pulled Natalie's collar up and looped a necktie around Natalie's slim neck, then quickly, expertly knotted it.

"My wife's father, good man, good man indeed; it was he that showed me the proper way to do this," Mr. Worthington smiled softly. "My father died when I was seven and Mother married a yank had no clue what a tie was good for."

Natalie looked up into his blue eyes and saw the sadness in them. She softly touched the hand he rested on her shoulder and he seemed to snap out of his reverie.

"And now, for the finishing touch, Mr. Worthington chuckled as he dug a slightly large cap from the box.

He stood behind Natalie, gathering the waist length strawberry blonde hair into the cap, then finally put the cap on Natalie's head.

"Let me see," Mr. Worthington said, walking around to face Natalie again.

"Why, Nate, so professional! So very, very professional," He approved.

"Thank you, sir," Natalie smiled.

"In fact," Mr. Worthington said, grabbing onto Natalie's tie.

He pressed his lips to Natalie's lips.

"Isn't this just so British? For the man of the house to bandy about with the chauffeur? Just a little buggery as it were?" Mr. Worthington husked and kissed Natalie again, using the tie to pull Natalie to him.

"Mr. Worthington!" Natalie protested, struggling.

"Oh, come Love," Mr. Worthington said, wrapping his other arm around Natalie's waist, squeezing her buttocks with his hand. "No one's about; you can call me Oscar."

"But, mmph!" Natalie protested as Mr. Worthington shoved his tongue into Natalie's mouth.

"Come, Nate; we've the house to ourselves," Mr. Worthington said, pulling Natalie by her tie to the door of his office. "Let's go mess up the sheets. My girl Natalie will just have to change the bedclothes a day early, won't she?"

"But Mr. Worthington," Natalie struggled.

"Please, Nate," he said as they reached the door of his bedroom.

He kissed Natalie softly.

"I really need this," he confessed and softly kissed Natalie's lips again.

"But I've never..." Natalie whispered, fearful.

"Nate, my darling sweet chauffeur, are you a virgin? Truly?" Mr. Worthington asked.

"Um, when it comes to men, yes sir," Natalie admitted, still resisting.

"Oh, but you mean to tell me, you've mucked about with girls a time or two, have you?" he chuckled and eased Natalie to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Well, that is, uh," Natalie stammered, embarrassed.

"Right, oh, well, you're certainly a very pretty boy and I don't mind telling you, I've fancied that delicious little bum of yours a time or two," Mr. Worthington said as began to unbutton his shirt.

"Mr. Worthington, please! Stop!" Natalie demanded, standing up.

"Please, Natalie," Mr. Worthington said, tears pooling in his eyes.

"Please, I need this," he begged quietly, hugging Natalie.

"Please, I need you," he whispered and kissed Natalie.

Mr. Worthington peered intently into Natalie's eyes through his thick glasses. He must have seen the surrender in Natalie's eyes because he smiled happily and kissed Natalie again.

"I promise; I'll not take your maidenhead; that'll be for your husband," he whispered as he pushed Natalie to sit on the edge of the bed again.

"Then what...?" Natalie asked.

"But since you say this is your first time, I'll show you," the man said and quickly shimmied out of his clothing.

"Mr. Worthington," Natalie gasped, looking at his erect cock.

It was thick, and at least seven inches long. A fat vein ran along the underside. What part of the head that stuck out of the thick foreskin was shiny with pre-seminal fluid.

"Dear Nate, would you touch my boy?" Mr. Worthington asked, thrusting his hips forward.

Natalie looked up, wanting to bolt out of the room. But then she steeled her nerves and leaned forward, reaching out a shaking hand.

"Oh, that is so very lovely, yes, you sure you've never done this before?" Mr. Worthington asked, as Natalie instinctively curled her small hand around the shaft and stroked it a few times.

His testicles looked intriguing, odd to Natalie, so she reached out her other hand and tested their weight, tested the feel of them. She looked up from her seated position into the straining face of Mr. Worthington.

"Oh, Nate, that is very..." he said in a strangled voice, but I'm afraid if you keep that up..."

"Now, Nate, oh, you are doing very well; I did enjoy that; did you enjoy that?" Mr. Worthington said as he gently removed Natalie's hands from his manhood.

"Yes sir, I did," she admitted s she rubbed her thighs together.

She could feel the wetness from her pussy seeping through the panties and pantyhose. She could also feel her small nipples were very tight and crinkled.

"Thank you, Natalie," he whispered and kissed her softly, then thrust his tongue into her mouth.

She put her small hands onto his forearms as she returned his kiss. When he pulled away from the kiss, she again reached for his throbbing, pulsing manhood.

"Right then, Nate, time for you to learn a little of how us men conduct ourselves when we're alone," he said.