She watched.
She watched how, for example, he handled the new machine. There was no tripping, no straining, no awkwardness of any kind now. It was as if he were doing a minuet with a perfectly responsive robot partner. In a flash, it seemed, all was plugged in and ready to go. It was rather fascinating.
On went the machine.
"Loud, isn't it?" she asked him. It seemed, in fact, of about the same level of hum as her present machine.
He raised his eyebrows. "Loud?" he questioned. "My good little lady, this model features the Solar Whisper. We like to think of it as a sound very much like the soft kiss of sunshine on a crisp green leaf of a sturdy oak in the forest."
"Patent pending?"
"Trademarked," he acknowledged, and danced the hose into proper position. "Now, I'm going to run over the exact same spot you just saw me doand you watch!"
Again Gert watched. She watched him make three, just three, passes over the spot-"Note the extra-long hose, certainly a convenience, right?" She watched him gracefully rest the tube against the couch. She watched him toe-touch the proper button which transformed the Solar Whisper to quiet stillness. She watched him remove the front of the cleaner and pull out a plastic bag-"Made of materials used to send our brave men to the moon," he commented off-handedly-and watched him empty a pile of dirt onto her clean floor.
"Ah-ha-ha! You see that, little lady? Hidden dirt that is costing you a fortune in carpet-wear. Now I estimate-" his eyes looked toward the ceiling. "I estimate that to repair your old heavy worn-out piece of equipment it'll cost you no less than fifty-five dollars, probably around sixty-five. For average efficiency that's what you'll pay. I don't like saying it, but that machine of yours was never too good even when brand-new. No Solar Magnetic Suction, like this one here. And this one here sells normally for-well, never mind what it normally sells for. Seeing as how the company has empowered me to make a few sales at loss-for sales promotion purposes-this machine, this one you see right before you, with its features of Solar Magnetic Suction and Solar Whisper will come to only-"
"I don't want your fucking machine," Gert said.
"Huh?"
"You heard me. I wasn't speaking over any 747 or even your Solar Whisper kissing off its crisp green leaf. I don't want your fucking machine."
"We've got some attachments you might be interested in-here, let me show you." And his hands were into the second carton. "Normally-I say normally, good little lady-these cost extra, but in this particular case-"
"In this particular case, I'm horny as hell. How's that for a convenient feature?"
"I beg your pardon?"
He backed off two steps, but no more. His legs were flush against the couch to the rear, and flush against Gert to the front. Her hand moved deftly and she had his zipper down before he could say Solar Whisper.
Hand on goalpost, she laughed comfortably. "I'd like very much to get screwed right now. Especially by some one with an… extra-long hose. Not to dismiss your patent-pending Super Solar Suction."
Her hand sampled his hose-and extra-long it was! Goody! But was he getting the idea? The fingers of her other hand were playing with the hair at the nap of his neck and her cheek was pressed hard against his. She was trying to figure out a gimmick. She already knew that he was going to be her next conquest. The hardening hose left no doubt about that.
"Look here," he began, but she cut him off.
"You look here. And if you go aha-ha-ha again or call me a good little lady again, I'll jerk this dong of yours clear out of its socket, you got that?" He nodded, she went on:
"I'm not stupid. I can tell a con job when I see one. I note, for example that you didn't show me an empty bag before you used wonder cleaner over there. I also have fairly good ears, and in addition I can tell when a man is trying to be particularly clumsy at one moment and graceful the next."
Hard cock and all, he looked genuinely abashed. "I wasn't convincing?"
She smiled. "I know what my own vacuum cleaner feels and sounds and cleans like. Give me brains enough for that. But your minuet was lovely."
"Quadrille," he corrected. "It's a quadrille. We had to practice it, to real music, lousy stuff."
"Anyway, you did it quite professionally."
"Uh-but no sale here, right?"
"Right. Which is not to say that your technique is wrong. It's just not tailored to someone like myself."
He tried to shrug, then looked down at her grasping hand and failed to carry it off. "It-er-works. Most of the time. You'd be surprised-"
"I've thought of a better technique," she said an oozing quality added to her voice. "And maybe it's you who'd be surprised. I'll show you, that is, if you're not in any specific hurry."
"Hurry? Er-not espec-"
But her tongue flickered around his ear and she blew soft warm breaths in and over it. Whispering, she said, "Then you should talk more about your blower. Do you have a good blower?"
He hadn't gotten all the message yet. His hands slipped around to her rear and he was inching the floor-length robe up her legs. Letting go of his cock, she wound both arms around his neck and leaned into him, compliant, soft, yielding. His hands were on the bare flesh of her buttocks. She could feel the goose bumps rising there.
And she could feel his stiff long maleness rising, too. It felt fat-not just long, but fat, too. No Gil in that respect but broad-at least for the man's general build. She reviewed some of the elements of his sales pitch.
The nozzle of the Solar Magnetic Suction hose was sort of fat, too-she wondered how he would like being sucked off-or suctioned off-by his own solar magnetic product. She intended to find out. She pulled him to the center of the room where the carpet was free from any furniture. When they reached her objective she broke from his grasp.
He looked at her stupidly, but she paid him no mind as she bent down and began searching through the carton of attachments. As she straightened, empty-handed but fully knowledgeable, she flicked the switch at the base of the canister with her bare toe. And she pulled open her robe. She let him get a good look.
She raised the "deluxe length" hose and pressed it into him, siphoning his trousers the way one would use the instrument to clean draperies.
"Some super suction," she said deprecatingly. "Hasn't taken a thing off yet."
Removing the tube from him, she again rifled through the case, inspecting the various brushes, hoses and tubes laying in the fitted compartments. "What does this one do?" She held up a wide nozzle. "Super suck," he replied, giving her an uncertain flash of his gaudy smile.
She pulled the cleaner's hose toward her and fitted on the wide nozzle. Experimentally she then fitted the nozzle over her right breast. It sucked.
She moved the nozzle back and forth across it. It was like a huge mouth pulling at her. She could just imagine what it might do to him.
But already he was getting ideas-probably not very similar to hers though, she thought as she lifted her head to look at him. He was unbuckling the belt around his trousers. When the trousers dropped, she was at him with the tube. He was wearing boxer shorts and she made a mental bet with herself on the odds of whether she could suck out his cock from the loose opening of the shorts.
Super suck? We'll just see.
But as he leaned down to pull his trousers over his now unshod feet, her intended target disappeared, so instead she directed the nozzle toward his buttocks. It drew in the fabric with a whoosh! With a cry of glee she lowered the hose until his shorts were around his knees.
She laughed again with the pure delight of a child. What a weapon this thing was! Weapon? Why not? Asking and answering herself thusly, she decided that the tube made a fine club and used it at the back of his shorts-entwined knees.