1. He Looked Familiar


    Date: 10/16/2015, Categories: Mature, Author: marlowe, Rating: 5, Source: LushStories

    the entrance hall, the reflection in a mirror hanging on the wall a haunting reminder of the age divide. They could have easily been taken for mother and son. “You have my telephone number,” she confirmed, opening the front door. “I’ll call you in about four weeks to arrange another meeting,” he said, glancing at the photograph on the table, the melodic chimes from the grandfather clock interrupting the question waiting at the back of his throat. A month later. A nagging toothache. He rang Brenda. He put as much cheer into his voice when he tried to arrange another meeting to discuss the design proposals and the estimated building costs for the project, the giggles and flirtatious suggestion at the other end of the phone hinting that Brenda was nursing a glass of wine. “I’m looking forward to seeing you again,” she slurred into the mouthpiece, her business mind running through the conditions of contract. “If I promise to give you a little extra fee for your professional services will you promise to give me a good workout between the sheets? “ After two hours of serious mattress action and succumbing to two teeth grinding orgasms, Brenda was still trembling from the aftershocks when she led him to the door. He paused in the entrance hall and asked about the man in the photograph. “He’s my husband, Philip Morton. He’s a dentist. Do you know him?” The gruesome picture of a mouth full of decaying teeth and bleeding gums did nothing to ease the anxiety and pain when he took a ...
    seat in the Dentist waiting room. Thumbing nervously through an old copy of ‘Horse and Hounds’ magazine, crossing and uncrossing his legs for the umpteenth time, brushing a light covering of perspiration from his brow, the very thought of a needle piercing the inside of his mouth and the removal of a tooth and the inevitable pain thereafter would make most people feel nervous. But it wasn’t just the toothache that was making him nervous. There was something more sinister plaguing his mind. It had suddenly hit him when he was driving home from Brenda’s house. ‘My husbands a dentist.... Philip Morton.... Do you know him, she asked. “Do I know him? Do I fucking know him? Yes I fucking know him,” the mantra kept repeating inside his head, almost losing control of the steering wheel. He was flying to Malaga the next day and a toothache in Spain was the last thing he needed, so when the pain became too unbearable he had no alternative but to make the call. Brenda was thrilled to hear his voice again, a little disappointed when he skipped the flirtatious telephone sex, surprised to hear that her husband was his dentist. “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” she said, with the confidence of a barrister. “His dental practice keeps him too busy. It was Philip who suggested that I meet the architect and discuss the design and building costs. Philip doesn’t even know your name,” she confirmed, ending the call with an invitation he couldn’t refuse. Philip Morton had been running his dental ...
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