Doesn't matter

As she walked around the drivers side window he watched her through the rear view mirror with a lustful sneer. He rubbed his cock through his pants to ease some of the sexual pressure. He needed to use the hot bimbo’s body thoroughly and as soon as possible.

She got in the car. “So, where do you live?”

He told her and they headed off.

As they drove, she rambled on about who she was and her life and parents or some other nonsense. Frank’s entire focus was on her blouse, attentive to even the slightest hint of jostle or wobble, though he had to steal his glances. The shirt was sadly not as revealing as he would like but it was enough to get something out of it. The weight of her breasts pushed down on the blouse in an eye-pleasing way.

After a one sided conversation that may have well been her talking gibberish Frank thought he heard a question and quickly looked to her eyes.

“... in a way that just makes everything worse, don’t you think?” She finished.

“Yes,” Frank said, trying to sound as convincing as possible, “I agree.”

“See! Thank you! It’s so hard to get some people to see sense. And my parents are just… ugh. Do you have any kids Mr Albert? Or grandkids?”

“Yes, I had a wife”, He lied, he knew he’d be doing a lot of that in the near future, “We never had any kids though. I always wanted some kids of my own, but it never worked out. If I did, I’d have them helping me instead of relying on the kindness of strangers.” He smiled warmly at her.

“It’s okay Mr Albert. I totally understand. I plan on having kids myself too, some day.”

Yeah, I bet you’ll have plenty of milk to give them, wont you bitch?, He thought, with a quick look to her blouse again.

“Yes, it’d be nice to have someone to give all my property to when I go. All this money I have, and no offspring.” He shook his head pitiably, “If I don’t find someone to inherit this, I’ll just end up having to give it all to charity. It’s too bad.”

He could see the gears turning in her head as he spoke.

He quickly pointed to an offroad. “Take that road, itll get us to my place quicker.”

She nodded and turned onto the dirt road. It was actually a much longer route by at least five minutes, but it was also significantly rougher. That meant that even at reasonably speeds, Camille couldn’t stop her massive tits from bouncing around. She was silent throughout the entire bumpy ride, mostly because she was so embarassed about how her boobs flopped around on either side of the seatbelt that went between them and separated them distinctively. She tried to keep a straight face and act like each pothole didn’t send one melon flying in a random direction. One pothole was so deep, it sent the right tit flying high up enough it almost slapped her shoulder. Frank gasped in lewd pleasure at the sight, but the sound was drowned out by tires hitting mud and the engine revving. After a very awkward drive (for Camille), they finally pulled into the front of his mansion.

She stared at it in awe as she got down from the car, deciding then and there she was going to suck up as much as possible to the old man and get him to think she was special and leave her the inheritance like you sometimes see in the news of some old guy giving his waitress a million dollars when he died. She could use a few hundred mill.

She went round to the passenger side, got his wheelchair out from the back and carried him into it like she did before.

This time, Frank didn’t want to miss out on that flesh too much, and thrust forward again, bumping into her own clothed crotch as she carried him. As she took him from the car to the wheelchair he pumped his dick forward, humping her leg three more times. Rubbing his dick agaisnt her soft thigh felt as good as the first time everytime. The bitch was designed to take dick.

“Well, here it is,” He said with a flourish as she pushed him in his chair toward the massive door.

“Yeah,” She said, looking around wide eyed, “It really is something.”

When she got him into the large manor halls she almost got lost going down the corridors and rooms until they got to a lavishly decorated dining hall.

When there, Frank turned his wheelchair around to face her. “You forgot the groceries dear.”

“Oops!” She left to go get them, and Frank watched her ass move the whole time, shamelessly fondling his crotch behind her back.

He activated the house security cameras and monitored her as she went outside and got the groceries. She almost tripped and one point, and he hoped against hope she would fall over and a boob would pop out but he knew it was an illogical hope. The blouse wasn’t low cut enough. He needed to get her into something so skimpy it’d be impossible for not it not to fall off. His huge sense of perverted entitlement was such that he felt he shouldn’t be the one spending time and energy trying to get her out of her clothes, she should be the one spending time and energy trying to stay in them. It was his house dammit.

She finally got back and they got to chatting. After contemplating it for a short time he decided to make the offer and see where it went.

“You know, Camille. I’m an old man and sometimes I need help around this house. I was thinking of hiring a full staff to help take care of the place, and of me. And in turn I could help them in their lives, they could be like the children I never had. I want to offer you a job.”

“Oh, Mr Albert, I don’t know what I’d be qualified to do,” She said coyly, looking forward to whatever chance it was. She tucked some of her long hair behind her head, her heart shaped face looking as innocent as can be.

“Oh its nothing too difficult. You’d just be a caretaker… sort of like, a female butler.”

“You mean a maid? It’s a bit…”

“Well, maid would be too simple a word for it. Caretaker is better, or even butler, without the female attached. Head of house sanitation,” He smiled at his own non-joke. “I’m sure you could use the money in your college studies.” He thought he’d heard heard her say something about college in one of her meaningless rambles.

“I’ll take the opportunity sir,” She said, “I won’t let you down. I always wanted to take better care of my own father. Maybe I can make it up to him by helping you.”

“Bless you, child.”