The Knock on the Door (Kirsty Gallacher)

[Ellessio]

Disclaimer: This did not happen. Fantasy is legal.

Codes: MF, Oral, Titwank

Celebrities: Kirsty Gallacher

The Knock on the Door

Kirsty stepped out of her luxurious shower. The bathroom's opaque glass door slid shut with a gentle hiss, the warm steam escaping and swirling around her toned figure. Her piercing blue eyes studied the droplets of water as they traced rivulets down her ample chest, glistening in the soft glow of the vanity lights. She towelled off, her skin taut from years of diligent yoga and cardio sessions. At 48, she had maintained the physique of a woman half her age, a testament to her unwavering dedication to health and fitness.

Drying her hair with a plush towel, Kirsty felt a sudden knot in her stomach as she thought about the mountain of debts her recent divorce had saddled her with. The house, once a bastion of love and laughter, now echoed with the stark silence of an impending crisis. Her children were with their father for the weekend, and she had hoped to use the time to gather her thoughts and devise a plan to tackle her financial woes. However, fate had other plans.

The doorbell's shrill ring pierced the quiet, sending a shiver down her spine. She wrapped the towel tightly around her body and cautiously approached the door. Through the peephole, she saw a large, burly man in a navy blue uniform, clutching a clipboard. Her heart sank as she recognized the insignia of a bailiff. With trembling hands, she unlocked the door and stepped aside, allowing him to enter. His eyes swept over her barely covered form before flicking back to the paperwork in his hand, and she felt a flash of anger at his lack of decorum.

"Ms. Gallacher," he began, his voice gruff and unyielding. "I'm here to collect some of your possessions to cover your outstanding debts."

Kirsty felt the blood drain from her face. She had been hoping against hope that she could somehow keep her financial troubles at bay a little longer. The bailiff's eyes roved over the opulent living room, assessing the value of her furniture and electronics with a cold, professional gaze. She knew that her ex-husband's alimony and child support payments barely covered the essentials, let alone the extravagant lifestyle she had been accustomed to.

Desperation flooded her veins as she searched for a way out of this predicament. Her mind raced, trying to come up with a solution that would allow her to keep her dignity and her possessions. Then, it struck her. With a deep breath, she turned to face the bailiff, her voice steady despite the tumult in her chest.

"Look," she began, "I know I owe a lot, but I'm willing to do anything to keep my things."

The bailiff's gaze lingered on her, his expression unchanged. "Anything?" he repeated, a hint of interest sparking in his eyes.

Kirsty swallowed hard, her heart hammering in her chest. "Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'll... I'll do whatever it takes."

The bailiff, a man in his early fifties with a greying beard and a beer gut, looked her up and down before a sly smile spread across his face. "Well, Ms. Gallacher," he said, his voice dripping with a sudden charm, "I might be able to work something out for you. Depending on what you are willing to do for me."

Kirsty felt a mix of disgust and fear, but she knew she had no other choice. She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice steady despite the tremor in her stomach.

"Let's start with a blowjob." he leered, licking his lips. "And if that's good, I might be able to overlook a few items."

Kirsty's stomach churned at the crudeness of his proposal, but she knew that she couldn't let pride stand in the way of her children's well-being. She took a deep breath and nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "Fine," she said, her voice quivering slightly. "But only if you give me more time to pay."

The bailiff's smile grew wider as he set down his clipboard and stepped closer to her. "Now, now," he said, his breath hot on her face. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. One thing at a time."

Kirsty felt a cold sweat break out across her forehead as the bailiff closed the distance between them. She took a step back, her hand unconsciously tightening around the towel. His eyes followed the movement, lingering on the slight gap that revealed her bare shoulder.

"Alright," she agreed, her voice strained. "But you have to promise me something."

The bailiff's grin grew more predatory. "And what would that be?"

Kirsty's mind raced, trying to find a way to regain some semblance of control. "If I... if I do this," she stammered, her eyes darting around the room, "you can't tell anyone. Ever."

He held up his ring finger, flashing a gold band in the light. "Scout's honor," he said with a leer, his eyes locked on her chest.

Her stomach turned, but she knew she had no other choice. Kirsty took a deep breath and dropped the towel, letting it pool at her feet. The bailiff's eyes widened with lust as he took in her naked form. She stepped closer to him, her nipples hardening with the coldness of the room and her own fear. He reached out and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back to expose her neck. She felt his hot breath on her skin as he leaned in, his stubble scraping against her.

"Now, take your time," he growled, unbuckling his belt.

Kirsty's heart raced as she dropped to her knees, her knees making a soft thud against the hardwood floor. She reached out and unzipped his trousers, her hand trembling slightly as she pulled out his erect member. The bailiff's smile grew even wider as he watched her, his grip on her hair tightening.

"Take it all," he ordered, his voice thick with lust.

Kirsty's throat tightened as she parted her lips and took him in, his cock hot and pulsing against her tongue. The taste was foreign and unwelcome, but she focused on the endgame: buying more time to salvage her shattered life. She moved her head up and down, trying to keep her gag reflex at bay, her eyes watering slightly as she felt his hand guiding her pace. His grip on her hair grew more forceful, tugging at her scalp as he began to moan. The sound of his pleasure filled the room, a stark contrast to the heavy silence that had hung over her home since her husband had left.

The bailiff's other hand found its way to her breast, squeezing it roughly as he thrust into her mouth. Kirsty felt a wave of nausea, but she bit back the urge to retch, instead focusing on the promise of reprieve from her financial troubles. She knew that she had to make this as pleasurable for him as possible if she wanted to secure her deal. With a resigned sigh, she reached up and began to stroke his shaft, her hand moving in tandem with her mouth. Her other hand played with his balls, rolling them gently in her palm, trying to ignore the way they felt against her skin.

The bailiff threw his head back on groaned, his body jerking as Kirsty's skilled mouth worked his cock. Despite the distaste, she couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction knowing she was in control of the situation, however precariously. His breathing grew ragged and his grip on her hair loosened slightly, allowing her to find a rhythm that was more comfortable for her. She used her tongue to swirl around the tip, tasting the salty precursor to his climax, and he responded with a grunt of approval.

As she continued to pleasure him, Kirsty's mind wandered to the items she hoped to save from his greedy grasp. The antique dresser passed down from her grandmother, the plasma TV her children adored, and the collection of designer handbags she had amassed over the years. Each stroke, each suck was a silent plea for mercy for these material possessions that had become so much more than just objects in her solitary world.

"I want to fuck those tits." he moaned, his voice thick with desire.

Kirsty's eyes widened in surprise, but she complied, not wanting to ruin the deal. She leaned back slightly, allowing him to guide his cock between her breasts. He squeezed them together, his eyes never leaving hers as he began to thrust. The sensation was strange, but she was determined to get through this ordeal. He thrust into her cleavage with increasing vigour, his eyes glazed over with pleasure. She could feel the precum seeping onto her skin, mixing with her sweat and the scent of her expensive body wash.

"Back in your mouth." he ordered, and Kirsty obeyed, her cheeks hollowing as she took him back in. His grip on her hair grew tighter as he approached his climax, his hips bucking into her face. She focused on the task at hand, the taste of him becoming more bitter with each passing second. The tension in the room was palpable, a mix of his desire and her desperation.

"Swallow what I give you." he grunted, his voice tight with the effort of holding back.

Kirsty nodded, her eyes never leaving his. She braced herself for the inevitable as he quickened his pace. The feeling of his cock against her tongue grew more intense, the pressure building until she could feel the head of his shaft pressing against the back of her throat. She fought the urge to gag, focusing instead on the promise of relief from her financial burdens.

With a final, guttural groan, the bailiff released his load into her mouth. She kept her eyes locked on his, showing no emotion as she swallowed, the bitter taste of his cum coating her throat. He shuddered, his grip on her hair loosening as he withdrew from her mouth. Kirsty stood up, her knees wobbly from the effort, and reached for the towel to wipe her face.

"You've got another two weeks." he panted, tucking himself back into his trousers. "But if you want more time, we'll have to renegotiate."

The bailiff's words hung in the air like a dirty secret, a stark reminder of the transaction that had just taken place. Kirsty nodded, not trusting herself to speak, so she grabbed the towel and wrapped it around her body.

As she let him out the door, she knew she had bought herself a brief reprieve from the looming spectre of destitution.