Fucking The Estate Agent

Like choosing a holiday viewing houses starts off with great excitement. Trawling the paper & internet making shortlists all initially bring such exhilaration. You start imagining being on that beach with its rich turquoise water or creating a culinary masterpiece in that contemporary kitchen. As you continue on the quest you find the hotel you want is fully booked the beach is shingle not sand & the reviews are less than favourable. Its been a bit that way with the house quest. Sometime its clear before you walk in that it isn’t right.

More often then not thought its the estate agents that cause the most hassle. Smug pompous upstarts that think they are real men when mostly – they are just wee boys. All you want them to do is open the door & let you take a bloody look around the house. But no they give you all the bullshit spiel about the fittings the oak flooring etc.

So after months of house hunting wasting time looking at houses that had they told the truth about I would never have bothered to view my tolerance was at particularly low ebb. That day an agent called to tell me about a house that was just what I was looking for an absolute must he said. I arranged to meet him there after work.

I had a bitch of a day busy as hell nothing went quite right & really all I wanted to do was go home soak in a bath & fuck my man senseless. Though I have to admit having pissed off to a stag night – he hadnt actually helped my mood. I could imagine it all – too much beer all lads talk & stuffing fivers in the knickers of sluts in seedy strip joints seemed crazy – when he could be home fucking me. His loss? The traffic was dreadful the rain beat against the windscreen & making it across town in time for the viewing was such a rush. I made it only a few minutes late.

The house was in darkness & no one was there. I waited in the car for 20 minutes before the agent finally weighed in. I tell you I was livid.
I hadn’t seen this guy before he must have been new. Certainly if his attire was anything to go by the boy was certainly trying to look the part. He must have taken a mortgage to buy his suit. A bit too glitzy for my taste & the smell of aftershave overpowered me.

Please I thought silently to myself keep it brief & cut the bullshit. But true to form he launched into agent speak before we had got through the front door. Did I want to hear about the original features like hell I didn’t. I just wanted to look in each room & get the hell home. If my man wasn’t there my dildo sure was & I needed an orgasm before sleep. Why change the habit of a lifetime? Looking at the young guy I found myself though irked feeling quite sorry for him. He had to say his bit & I guess I had to listen. As we carried on through the house I realised that while it may have potential it was not the must see I had been promised. So I turned off looked at what I need to & let him carry on.

As we completed the tour he was keen to know my impressions & seemed quite desperate that I make an offer. Explaining that it was okay but not for me I watched as his expression changed from enthusiastic to absolute disappointment. The boy was glum. He sat down on the dining room chair his head dropped to his hands & he sighed. Turns out that he hadn’t made a sale in 6 months this was his final chance. If he didn’t sell this house to me he was out of a job. He pleaded & begged that I make an offer. The bottom line was that the boy was willing to do anything to make a sale. The onslaught continued it seems I was his last chance & again he reiterated that he would do whatever I wanted if only would consider it.

My libido & conscious had been having an argument since the begging started. After all a cute young guy – still wet behind the ears offering whatever I wanted just so long as his kept his job was too much for me. As my head went into overdrive & my pussy began to throb I realised that while I was a sympathetic woman I was hornier that I would ever be sympathetic.As I met his gaze he understood that it wasn’t the practical stuff like getting me a good mortgage deal or repairing my car I had in mind. The boys face flushed he wriggled in the seat & stammered a bit. So – how was I going to play this I pondered though only briefly. Having the upper hand with an estate agent was such a novelty I knew I would milk this boy dry & there was no place for coyness that night.

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