Broken Window

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I was doing some cleaning at home. It was one of those few times when I was doing a thorough job, getting into those little places that you generally ignore because they’re too hard to get at. I shifted my speakers about to get behind them and then started on the entertainment unit.

At one stage the entertainment unit had a large TV sitting on it. Now the TV is attached to the wall with the various cords associated with it running down inside the wall and into the back of the entertainment unit. This left a cleaner environment with no messy cords around. My DVD and amplifier equipment were inside the entertainment unit leaving a bare top. Too bare for my taste and so I’d put some ornaments on it, including a very nice bronze.

Cleaning around the entertainment unit I shifted the ornaments to other flat surfaces, notably the speakers, so they wouldn’t get knocked over. Putting things back in their proper places I bumped one of the speakers and made a lightning grab at the ornaments to save them. A couple of them were very nice crystal pieces, lovely to look at, but not designed to be dropped. I didn’t grab for the bronze as you could drop that from a plane onto concrete and the only damage would be to the concrete.

Did I mention that when I moved the speakers I parked them in front of the window? Why not? A large clear area that was out of my road. While I was grabbing my precious crystal the bronze was rocking on its base and falling but, like I said, it wouldn’t be damaged by the fall. The same can’t be said for the window. The damn thing went backwards and crashed into the glass. The glass, not being quite as hard as the bronze, cracked. Quite spectacularly, too. There was a chip in the glass where the bronze hit it and radiating out from the chip were half a dozen cracks that streaked like lightning to the edges of the window.

I was muttering rude things under my breath, waiting for the whole window to shatter and come crashing down around me, but it didn’t happen. I breathed a sigh of relief, finished my cleaning, and rang a glazier.

Not super urgent, I informed them, as the window was holding up, but sooner was probably better than later. They arranged to come out on the next Saturday morning. They would, they said, send someone prior to that to measure the glass so they would have the exact size available. No, I couldn’t give them the measurement, because clients had a tendency to measure incorrectly and then blame the glazier when the new pane was the wrong size.

Someone from the glazier swung past later that day and took the measurements, told me how much I was going to be up for, and waltzed off. I checked my house insurance and I was covered except for a hundred excess. I sent off my claim and relaxed, trusting the window would hold for a few days.

The window held up, although I had a couple of nerve wracking moments when heavy trucks drove down the street, causing some nasty vibrations and cracking sounds. Still, Saturday rolled around and the window was intact. (The glass was in about a dozen pieces, but it was hanging in there, doing its best.) Until a ball hit it.

It wasn’t a hard ball, or a big ball. It was just a small rubber ball that this girl was throwing for her dog to fetch as she walked down the street. Now dogs don’t care how accurately you throw the ball, as long as you throw it. They’ll happily chase off in any direction to fetch it. A good thing too, because while the girl could throw the ball for a mile she didn’t seem to have much control over where it went. One throw went sidewards, with the ball bouncing off the pathway leading to my door and onto the window. There was an appalling shattering sound and glass came cascading down into my living room.

I was in the living room at the time and was able to see the glass crumbling. Looking through the window I could see the young lady wearing a look of horror, then she and her dog were beating a retreat down the street as fast as their feet could carry them. If they’d hung around for another thirty seconds they’d have seen the glazier’s truck pull up.

The glaziers cleaned up the broken glass, slapped in the new window, emptied my wallet, and departed, job done.

I thought no more about it. The insurance company would reimburse me in due time but I wasn’t going to be hurting waiting antalya escort for the payout. Whenever would be OK by me. (Not that I wouldn’t hurry them along if I thought they were taking too much time to settle.)

Later that afternoon there was a knock on my door and, answering, I found a pretty and somewhat nervous young lady standing there. She was a brunette with shoulder length hair, a very nice chest, a nice figure overall, about age twenty. She was currently wearing a t-shirt and either tights or yoga-pants, damned if I know the difference. She also owned a dog. I knew this from having seen her chucking a ball for it. I’d also seen her around a bit.

“Afternoon,” I said agreeably. “Um, Mary-Anne, isn’t it? No, that doesn’t sound quite right. Ah, Marion?”

She nodded and I continued.

“So, how can I help you, Marion?”

“Um, it’s about your window,” she said, sounding rather nervous.

“Which window?” I asked. “I have a number of them in my house.”

“The broken one,” she said, sounding put upon, and gesturing towards my newly replaced window. Then she noticed that the window was no longer broken and looked surprised. I saw her do a fast check to make sure she had the right house and then she turned back to me.

“Well, it was broken,” she said irritably. “You must have worked fast to get it fixed already.”

“Not me,” I denied. “That’s what glaziers are for. Why don’t we discuss it inside?”

I stepped back, holding the door open. Her shoulders seemed to sag slightly but then she braced herself and walked in.

“I’m Matthew, by the way. Please call me Matt. You had a query about my window?”

“Um, I’m sorry, but it was me,” she said rather ungrammatically and uninformatively.

“Oh, really? Ah, what was you?”

“I broke your window. I should have stayed and confessed at the time but I panicked and ran. I came past to apologise and offer to pay for it.”

“You didn’t break it,” I told her. “I saw the ball outside and I don’t think you could throw a ball like that hard enough to break a window. Casting no aspersions on your throwing ability, although your sense of direction could be improved.”

“So you’re saying the window shattering when the ball hit it was just a complete coincidence?” she asked sweetly.

“Bingo,” I said smiling. “One of those unfortunate timing things. Nothing to do with you, so no problems.”

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” she demanded. “We both know what happened. I feel I should pay you for the new window. How much was it.”

I told her and she went pale.

“That much?” she asked, shocked.

I shrugged. “Glass is expensive,” I pointed out, “and it is a big window.”

“Um, I’m not sure I can pay you that much right away,” she admitted. “Could I, ah, pay you some now and pay the rest off?”

“Why worry?” I asked. “I’m not pressing for payment. I didn’t even ask you for payment. That was all your idea.”

“But it’s not fair to you,” she explained. “Why should you be out of pocket because I was careless? Having to pay you off will just serve me right.”

“Got it,” I said with a smile. “You’re feeling guilty. There’s no need to. Accidents happen.”

“Maybe so, but I’m still responsible.”

I looked at her thoughtfully.

“It seems to me that you’re intent on punishing yourself,” I said. “Instead of you beating yourself up over what was an accident how about I decide on a penalty. That way you can satisfy your need to be punished and won’t have to pay for the window.”

“And what would that penalty be?” she asked sweetly. It’s amazing how suspicious a sweetly voiced question can sound.

“Oh, nothing too onerous,” I said. “I’ll just have you bend over that chair and spank you. That would be the end of the matter.”

She gave me a very angry look, thinking it over.

“Fine,” she snapped. “I’ll do it.”

Well damn. I’d expected her to be hightailing it out of here.

“You do realise that I will have to spank your bare bottom,” I added.

“You didn’t say that at first,” she protested. “You’re only adding that because I agreed.”

“True,” I said with a grin. “Ah, you’re at liberty to change your mind and run. The door’s over there.”

“But then I’d feel I still owed you the money. You made the offer and I’m accepting.” kemer escort She sounded very defiant when she said that. So what if she had to bare her bottom, her voice indicated. She could handle it.

I graciously waved my hand towards the chair and she slowly moved over to it and bent over.

I moved up behind her. She tensed as I slid down her tights and panties but didn’t protest or resist. I rubbed her bottom lightly.

“A very neat little bottom,” I told her. “Don’t worry too much about the spanking. You’ll find it won’t be too bad. After all, the incident with the window could have been a lot worse. As it wasn’t it’s only fair that I also be reasonable with the penalty.”

“What do you mean, it could have been worse?” she demanded. “Ah, that’s not my bottom you’re rubbing.”

“Isn’t it? Well, never mind. I’ll get around to the spanking in a minute. As for the window being worse it would have been worse as far as I was concerned if it had broken earlier in the week.”

“Move your hand. Why would the day it broke make a difference? And I didn’t mean move your hand like that!”

“If it had happened earlier in the week I’d have had to cover the window with a blanket of something. The glazier wasn’t due until today. I could have had insects coming through the broken window in hordes.”

“Will you please stop touching me there,” she gasped. (I didn’t.)

She seemed to be thinking something over.

“Ah, what do you mean the glazier wasn’t due until today? Why would he be due today?”

“To replace the broken glass,” I explained. “Why else would I have booked his services?”

“But you couldn’t have known I’d break the window before it happened,” she protested.

I didn’t say anything, waiting for the penny to drop.

“If you booked his services for this morning you must have known the window would need replacing,” she said, working it out. “That would mean the window was already broken.”

“Absolutely shattered,” I agreed. “It happened last Wednesday. I was lucky the whole thing didn’t collapse then and there. I managed to have that bronze statue crash into it, which was rather careless of me.”

“You mean that I didn’t break it. It was already broken. Why didn’t you tell me?” That last question was screamed at me. She sounded displeased.

“Excuse me,” I said, “but I most certainly did tell you. As soon as you told me that you thought you had broken the window I distinctly remember saying you didn’t break it.”

What she had to say then was a bit incoherent but she didn’t sound happy. I don’t know why. I’d have thought she’d be pleased to find out she hadn’t done the damage.

“Then why are you spanking me?” she finally demanded.

“Um, you seemed to want to be,” I pointed out, “not that I’m actually following through with it. I didn’t think that would be fair.”

By now I guess she’d worked that out. The lack of spanks was a big clue. Another big clue would have been the way my hand seemed reluctant to move away from her mound, having been giving it some loving attention.

“Oh my god,” she said in a small voice. “You’re going to rape me.”

For that I did give her a small spank.

“The hell I am,” I said.

“Then what are you doing? You’re still touching me there.”

“Well, hopefully I’m seducing you. Not only do you not have to pay the glazier’s fee but you don’t have to be spanked. I thought you might be so relieved that you would willingly succumb to my charms.”

“You have got to be kidding.”

“No. Why would I kid over something as important as that? Can’t you tell how serious I am?”

I’d only needed one hand to play with her. The other had been quite busy undoing my trousers. I now dragged the length of my erection along her slit, letting her feel my hardness and my heat.

“You’re not really going to use that thing on me, are you?” she asked, sounding very nervous.

“Um, yes, unless you explicitly tell me not to.”

“But I don’t want you to,” she said in a small voice.

I shrugged, eased her lips apart and edged the tip of my cock between them.

“Then perhaps you should tell me not to,” I pointed out. “Alternatively, you can wait a few moments and see if you change your mind.”

I pressed in just a little konyaaltı escort deeper, releasing her lips to close around me. She didn’t say anything so I pressed a little more firmly, my cock starting to ease down her passage. Not a virgin, I noted.

Holding in place for a moment I pushed her t-shirt up and unclipped her bra.

“What are you doing,” she gasped, although I’d have thought it was obvious.

“I want to hold these,” I said, my hands sliding around to capture her breasts, “before I really get going. They will give me something to grip when I drive in hard.”

I massaged her breasts lightly, still holding in place, cock engaged, but just barely.

“Time’s just about up if you want to stop me,” I murmured, starting to press slowly in.

I was taking it real slow, but I was most certainly going deeper and there was no way she could miss it. If she was going to stop me it was going to have to be damn soon.

“Now listen,” she mumbled. “I really think. . .” Her voice trailed off.

“Stop thinking,” I murmured. “Start feeling. Tell you what. I’m half way in. I’ll stop here and let you push back against me to get things moving.”

“You’re kidding?” she said, sounding incredulous. “And what do you mean, only halfway. You’re almost fully in and you know it.”

“The only way for you to be certain is to push back against me and see,” I said, and tried to put a challenge into my voice.

She just held still for a couple of moments while I continued rubbing her breasts. Then she made a sort of growling noise and started pushing back against me. She was pushing just as slowly as I had been, but she was pushing, and I was once again sinking in, going deeper with every moment that passed.

She was now muttering, “Oh my god,” repeatedly as she pressed against me, stopping only to yell, “Just how big are you, you bastard?” With that she pressed more firmly against me, forcing me deep into her, our groins finally slapping together.

“This big,” I said, holding myself deep within her.

Before I did anything else I pushed her t-shirt and bra higher. She caught on to what I was doing and helped lift them over her head and dropping them on the chair. I now had a naked bundle in my arms and proceeded to enjoy it.

Hands massaging her breasts I pulled back and then thrust in again, but this time driving in hard. Marion gave a small shriek but pushed just as hard back against me, wanting me deep inside her. That was just the start. I kept going, increasing the pace until I was settled into what I thought was a mutually satisfying rhythm.

I was guessing that it was mutual because I was getting no complaints from Marion. She was rushing to meet me, urging me on, while writhing about and rubbing her breasts against my hands. Once I had that rhythm going it was just a case of seeing how long I could keep it up, and I kept it up for what I considered a satisfying amount of time.

I was going to say that Marion was a lot more vocal than me but on second thoughts I’d guess we were about equal. The difference was more one of volume. She was loud with her approvals and demands, not wanting to die with her opinions unheard. I was a lot quieter, whispering in her ear, telling her wonderful she felt, how sweet she was, how her breasts felt like warm silk, how she felt full of warm honey, its sweetness flowing into me.

When it came time to wind things up I was damned if I wanted to. I wanted to continue what we were doing, with finishing seeming a poor option. Like I had any choice in the matter. I was building up speed for my grand finale when she hit her straps and climaxed, very loudly, too. Her climax sort of hurried mine along and I felt an overwhelming relief as I spent myself in her.

Marion leaned over the chair for a few more minutes while I dis-engaged and straightened my clothes. Then she snatched up her clothes and turned to me.

“Bathroom?” she demanded and I pointed the way. She vanished inside and came out ten minutes later, dressed with not a hair out of place.

“You tricked me,” she announced, “and don’t bother denying it.”

I tried to look penitent and helpless but she just frowned at me.

“Have you got a steady boyfriend?” I asked her. I wouldn’t mind seeing more of her. All night long if possible.

“Boyfriend?” she said. “Certainly not. My husband would never permit it.”

With that she gave me a lovely smile and departed, her provocative little bottom swishing about in an almost indecent manner, and doing it quite deliberately, too. I just knew that it was deliberate.

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