Walk a Crooked Milf Ch. 06

Chapter Six -- I Have a Proposal for You

Delores Cashmore stood by her husband's gravesite and dabbed at her crocodile tears with her handkerchief. Jeremy Cashmore had treated her badly and left her poor and she was glad to see him gone. She didn't know how she was going to survive but survive she would. She was a housewife who had no skills whatsoever but she decided then and there that she would no longer live her life doing menial work for men; she would be her own woman.

"How can you dress like a slut at your own husband's funeral!" her mother hissed as they walked back to the little church.

Delores' mother was a little harridan of a woman and was one of the reasons Delores had married Jeremy and left home as soon as she could.

Delores was wearing a black short-skirted suit with a white satin blouse, black fully-fashioned stockings and black four-inch high heels. Her makeup was heavy and she was wearing her favourite red lipstick.

"This is how Jeremy liked me to dress mother. On the rare days that he actually went to work, because most of them were spent in the pub, he liked to come home and find me dressed like this and bend me over the kitchen table," Delores spat her response.

"Don't talk like that! Not in church!" her mother squawked.

Ada Robinson, Delores' mother, was one of those women who was content to live a hard life dominated by a brutal controlling husband and thanked God every Sunday for allowing her to exist. She insisted that her daughter attend church every Sunday with her and Delores had been unable to break the habit even after she had moved out of the family home. What she didn't tell Ada was that God had finally answered her prayers when Jeremy Cashmore had walked out of the pub in a drunken stupor and fell under a number ten double-decker bus.

Nor did she tell her mother that when she lived at home she only accompanied her mother to church so that she wouldn't be left alone with her father who liked to feel her up while she sat squirming in his lap. Ada Robinson thought that her husband and daughter were just playing a stupid game and chose to ignore the spunk stains on the back of her daughter's knickers.

Ada and Delores went back inside the little church to thank the Vicar for officiating at the service. There were few mourners at Jeremy Cashmore's funeral and those who had attended had left quickly. Delores cringed as her mother fawned over the Vicar, expressing her undying gratitude for what Delores thought of as just the Vicar performing his duty. Delores was very much a 'births, deaths and marriages' person when it came to religion, she attended church only to hide from her father and her husband.

"There is one other matter I'd like to discuss with you Mrs Cashmore, if you wouldn't mind remaining behind," the Vicar said as he walked the women to the big wooden doors of the church.

Ada Robinson once again thanked the Vicar and toddled off down the road.

"Please accompany to the vestry," the Vicar pointed to the door set into the side of the little church's rendered walls.

Delores walked ahead of the Vicar who appraised her bottom and long legs. Publicly he would say that he didn't approve of the way Mrs Cashmore dressed for church but privately he'd played with his erection under his vestments on many a Sunday when Delores Cashmore had sat in the front row of pews next to her mother with her legs unintentionally parted showing a glimpse of her knickers.

The little vestry was gloomy and sparsely furnished with a wooden desk and cabinets that held the church's meagre sacraments. The Vicar took off his vestments and hung them on a coat rack.

"There that's better. Please take a seat Mrs Cashmore," the Vicar sat at his desk and indicated a plain wooden chair beside him.

Delores sat down and primly crossed her ankles but her skirt rode up her thighs and she tugged at it and blushed.

"Thank you again for the service today Vicar," Delores said, although she didn't really mean it.

As far as she was concerned the Vicar had merely performed the funeral rights that he was bound to do by his position. He confirmed that in his reply.

"Merely performing my God given duties Mrs Cashmore and glad to do so, which is possibly a good segue into the reason I wanted to talk to you," he smiled at her through yellowed teeth.

"The funeral service comes free of charge of course, although some parishioners like to donate a little something to the church fund," the Vicar said.

Delores blushed. She didn't have a penny to donate and she was sure the Vicar was aware of it.

"That brings us to the matter of the grave plot. Unfortunately that doesn't come free of charge," the Vicar said gravely.

"Oh my, I didn't realise," Delores' face fell.

"I know things are tough for you right now Delores, I can guess that Jeremy didn't leave you with much," he reached out and patted her knee.

"Pardon my French Vicar but he didn't so much as leave me a pot to piss in. All I have left is the house which he inherited from his uncle," Delores shook her head.

"Do you mind me calling you Delores?" the Vicar had not removed his hand from her knee.

"Of course not Vicar," Delores smiled grimly.

The Vicar got out of his chair and walked to the vestry's old wooden door and turned the ancient doorlock. He looked at Delores intently and smiled through his tobacco-stained teeth.

"There are of course other ways one could pay for a burial plot. It's not really cheap Delores, around five hundred pounds plus the annual upkeep charges," The Vicar came back and stood before her.

Delores felt very uncomfortable being eyelevel with the Vicar's crotch.

"Do you understand what I mean by other ways?" he leered at her.

Delores was bemused at first and then she saw the bulge in the Vicar's black trousers. If Delores had any faith at all it left her right then as did any respect she had for men in general.

Her husband was a drunkard who beat her and would bend her over whenever the urge took him demanding his conjugal rights. Her father had held her squirming in his lap while he pressed his erect penis against her knickered buttocks until he ejaculated while her mother had feigned ignorance. Now the one man she should be able to trust above all others was making a pass at her.

"I understand Vicar," Delores sighed.

"Then shall we make the first instalment now?" the sound of the Vicar unzipping his fly in the silent vestry was ominous.

The Vicar's penis was quite big and knobbly with pulsing veins and an angry-looking distended purple glans. For some reason Delores thought of the Vicar's wife who was a short mousy looking woman who always seemed to be wearing a pinafore, thick brown tights and scuffed flat shoes. Delores couldn't imagine her tending to the Vicar's needs but she obviously did because they had three children.

Delores set her resolve and reached out and took the Vicar's penis in her hand and began to stroke it. The Vicar gasped as he watched Delores' slim fingers with those bright-red long fingernails grasp his manhood and begin to caress it. She gripped it tighter and felt the meaty thickness of it pulse in her hand.

She felt utterly disgusted and demeaned as she sat in the wooden chair masturbating the man who had christened her. But she couldn't deny that she also felt something else. She felt power. Delores realised that she could blackmail the Vicar should she chose to do so. It would be her word against his but surely a bereaved widow would attract sympathy and even if the Church didn't believe her the Vicar's name would be besmirched for ever.

Instead of letting go of the Vicar's erect penis she lowered her mouth to it and began to suckle it. Her husband had demanded this service and she was quite adept. When she closed her lips around the shaft and used her tongue on the bloated glans the Vicar's knees gave way and he fell into his chair.

Delores followed him with her mouth, getting down on her knees so that she could pay full attention to his cock with her mouth.

"Oh my Delores; no one has ever done that to me before," the Vicar sighed watching the woman with flaming red hair, heavy makeup, exuding a miasma of perfume bob up and down on his phallus.

Delores worked her mouth on the Vicar's cock and as she did she gradually realised that not only did she feel powerful, she was also becoming sexually aroused. Her knickers were damp and she felt a tingling in her vulva that she seldom felt when Jeremy fucked her.

The Vicar unbuckled his trousers and pushed them down around his ankles with his underpants and placed his hands on Delores' head and guided her mouth up and down on his cock but she shook him off. She didn't like being handled like that, it reminded her too much of her dead husband who had often choked her when she fellated him.

She could feel the Vicar's cock begin to throb insistently and her quim becoming wetter. She needed something inside her to satiate her lust.

When Delores spat out the Vicar's cock just as he was about to climax he cried out with dismay but when Delores bent over the desk and raised her skirt he was delighted. She tried to pull down her red satin knickers but the Vicar impatiently slapped her hand away eased the gusset aside and drove his cock all the way inside her.

He smiled when he realised how wet this woman was. He'd always fancied her and regretted having not made a pass at her before now. He gripped Delores' hips and began to fuck her and she obligingly pressed back against him and wriggled her buttocks appreciatively.

The Vicar's cock was bigger than Jeremy's and also Jeremy had seldom been able to maintain a durable erection because he was usually drunk. The Vicar might be a manipulative adulterous cad but he certainly had a great cock and knew how to use it. Delores began to moan as her orgasm germinated and began to grow. It began deep in her vagina where the Vicar's cock pounded on her G-spot and blossomed into delightful sprigs of pleasure that radiated from her tingling clitoris.

The Vicar felt Delores' cunt contract around his cock as she orgasmed. She was shaking on her heels and pushing her pillowy buttocks back into him as he gripped her tightly by the hips and drove himself all the way inside her and ejaculated.

The Vicar gasped and stifled the moan that he so wished to howl at full volume as he discharged his semen deep inside Delores Cashmore's quivering vagina. The aroma of her sex drifted from under her skirt as her juices flowed freely. Delores bit her lip to supress a scream as she writhed and wriggled with lust. This was what sex was supposed to feel like. She might be being coerced into giving the Vicar what he wanted but she had to admit that she liked what he was doing to her. She hated him for violating her when she was most vulnerable but she absolutely adored the pleasure he wrung from her.

Suddenly there was banging on the vestry door.

"Are you in there Vicar?" called Dorothy Clinton, one of the volunteer helpers, as she rattled the doorknob.

"Just a minute Mrs Clinton, I'm changing out of my vestments and mourning suit into something more comfortable," the Vicar called out.

He pulled his cock out Delores' vagina and a flood of semen and vaginal secretions soaked into her knickers as the Vicar pulled the gusset back in place over her puffy labia.

Delores pushed herself up from the desk, adjusted her knickers and pulled down and straightened her skirt while the Vicar pulled up his underpants and trousers.

Delores reached into her handbag and found a compact and her lipstick and fixed her face.

"That was an excellent first instalment Mrs Cashmore," the Vicar grinned at her.

"I'll make regular payments Vicar, every Sunday after church," Delores picked up her handbag ready to leave.

The Vicar walked her to the other vestry door, the one that opened onto the church grounds.

"I'll want a nice marble headstone installed and fresh flowers placed on my husband's grave every week Vicar," she leaned into the Vicar and nibbled his ear.

"Now, now Delores, I didn't agree to any of that," the Vicar's yellowed teeth repulsed her when he smiled condescendingly at her.

"Oh you'll do it Vicar. You'll do it gladly for your weekly stipend. Either that or I'll open the other door and call in Dorothy Clinton. Even a muppet like Dorothy will know what's been going on in here. The place stinks of perfume and cunt," Delores smiled and the Vicar's grin soured at the use of such vulgarity in his church.

"See you next Sunday then, shall I Vicar?" Delores smiled sweetly and let herself outside onto the gravel path that cut through the centre of the church's lush green lawn.

Her knickers were squidgy and uncomfortable but she was smiling to herself. She knew now how she was going to make a living. Men had always fancied her and some of them had used her but from now on she would be using them.

*****

Delores had been using her house as a brothel for six months before Steven Cottrell paid her a visit. She had no idea who he was and thought he was just another punter who had found one of her 'tart cards' that she had distributed in all of the public phone boxes in the area.

"You must be the delightful Delores Cashmore," Steven smiled as he entered her house one Thursday evening.

Delores had not yet converted her cellar into a dungeon but she had renovated it and she led Steven down the stairs to what she called her workroom.

"This is a nice big space you have here," Steven looked around at the newly painted and carpeted room.

The the four-poster bed and the armoire were in place but the clothing in the armoire was very vanilla: sexy lingerie, a nurse's uniform, French maid's uniform, and extremely high heels.

Delores currently had no need for the rubber and leather fetish clothing or the whips, canes and restraints that would eventually be required.

Steven sat on the bed and started to undress.

"You should put in a bar and lounge area where the punters can relax, you know, provide a few extras so you can charge them more," he was down to his underpants and vest.

Delores thought that her new punter was a little forward giving her unsolicited business advice.

"Also, I forgot to mention when I phoned you. Do you do any S&M or B&D?" Steven stripped off the last vestiges of his clothing and lay naked on the bed.

Delores was wearing a black transparent negligée, matching knickers, black stockings and high heels.

"Sometimes clients ask me to spank them," Delores said as she approached the bed.

"Yes but what about yourself? There's a lot of money in that lark. Would you be prepared to take a spanking or a bit of a caning?" Steven propped himself up on one elbow.

"I've never thought about it," Delores sat down on the edge of the bed.

"If I doubled what you're asking could I give you a spanking?" Steven smiled at her.

Delores considered the short, pasty-faced, pudgy, pale-skinned, piggy-eyed man. He had arrived wearing an expensive suit but he was coarse and spoke with a common cockney accent.

"You would pay me double?" Delores' business was performing moderately well but she was only just making ends meet, especially as she had outlaid a substantial amount to renovate her cellar.

"Yeah I'll pay you double. Call it a special service," Steven's grin widened.

"Sure, ok, why not?" Delores was a little apprehensive but she could use the money.

Steven joined her on the edge of the bed and began to kiss her. Delores didn't usually let her clients kiss her and she turned her head away.

"I don't kiss," she said evenly.

"Look love, if you want to make this a going concern you're going to have to offer what the other girls don't," Steven said, his voice gravelly.

"But..." Delores never got to finish her sentence because Steven grabbed her and forced her down on the bed.

He might have been short and podgy but Steven was strong and he held her down and pressed his face to hers. Delores turned away again and Steven tweaked a nipple until she screamed.

"There we go," he grinned when she stopped struggling and faced him.

He lowered his face to hers and began to kiss her. He had wanted to kiss those full red lipsticked lips ever since he had laid eyes on her. Delores refused to open her mouth and Steven pinched her hard until she acquiesced and opened her mouth a little. Steve drove his tongue into her mouth and kissed her passionately.

Her husband had liked to use his hands on Delores and often hit her but this was different. The pain was part of the foreplay and Delores wouldn't admit it but she found it stimulating. She returned Steven's kisses and used her tongue. She squealed when Steven tweaked her nipples but it was a squeal of both pain and delight.

"That's good girl," Steven hissed and kissed her again.

He suddenly sprang off her and dragged her onto his lap and began to spank her buttocks. At first it was just a few painful slaps and then he began to lay into her until Delores' buttocks were red and burning with pain. He slipped a finger inside her panties and opened her labia and circled her clitoris, whilst still slapping her bottom.

Steven smiled. Delores was wet and although she squirmed with pain she was also squirming with pleasure.

"Oh my god stop! Please stop!" Delores cried and Steven did.

He threw her on the bed and dived on top of her, his stubby penis probing between her legs. He slipped his cock inside the leg-hole of her knickers and found her sex swollen and wet and he drove his cock into her. Delores wrapped her legs around him. Her buttocks were burning and her nipples ached but the pain amalgamated with the pleasure that was radiating from her cunt and forged an intense decadent sensuality that she had never experienced before. Who would have thought that pleasure and pain could coexist and illicit such divine rapture?

Delores lifted her buttocks off the bed to meet Steven's frantic thrusts. His stubby appendage didn't quite hit her G-spot with every stroke but his pubis ground against her clitoris and she could feel an intense orgasm blossoming.

She felt Steven's cock begin to convulse has he discharged his semen in her quivering cunt and she kissed him fervently and raked her heels on his back and held him close and rode her orgasm as Steven's climax peaked.

When they finished they were sweating, scratched and bruised. Steven lay on top of her panting.

Steven leapt off the bed with surprising agility for a little fat man.

"Clean yourself up luv and we can talk business," he called over his shoulder as he headed for the bathroom.

Delores lay panting on the bed. Her body was sore, her buttocks burned, her nipples ached but she felt surprisingly contented and when Steven came out of bathroom she went in there and cleaned herself up and fixed her makeup.

When she came out Steven was gone. Delores was angry because he hadn't paid her the extra money he promised.

She became even angrier when she found a besuited Steven Cottrell sitting in her lounge room having helped himself to a healthy dram of her whisky.

"Hey! What the fuck?" Delores was about to berate him.

Steven Cottrell held up his hand.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist luv. Come and sit down and let me tell you who I am and put to you a new business model for your consideration," Steven waved his drink at Delores.

"Well it's not really for consideration, let's say I'm making you an offer you can't refuse," Steven gave her a shark-like grin.

Delores suddenly realised that Steven Cottrell was no ordinary punter.

So Delores entered into a business arrangement with Steven Cottrell whereby she was allowed to operate her own brothel paying Steven a premium for protection from other criminal elements and from the Metropolitan Police Force. She was to provide bespoke services maintaining confidentiality for her clients.