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I watched the truck pull up in the driveway, then watched anxiously for her. She was alone. I could see her long dark hair right away and that attracted me. Was it too much to hope? Yes, then the almond eyes. I had suspected from the phone call she was Asian. She was dressed as a typical Asian girl, in stylish jeans that hung loose around the foot, tennis shoes, a peach-colored t-shirt, very slight makeup and no purse. She was petite – small tits and hips. The cut of the jeans showed her ass was slender, the kind I liked. She looked to be in her late 20s. I opened the door.
Are you ----, I asked her?

Yes, are you -----? She replied to me. She had a slight accent. I couldn't say from where exactly.

We shook hands. I was a good foot taller than her and looked down on the silky black hair parted on the side. She had a flat double crown in back, so the hair hung flat. No wedding ring. Come on in, I invited her. She had called me about the ad earlier that morning.

She followed me into the kitchen. Nice, she said, admiringly, at the appliances, which were top-end and mostly new.
Well it all has to go, I told her, I’m being deployed three days from now, for a 27-mont tour in ___-istan.

She gave me a look of sympathy and pity.

You’re probably about the last female I’m gonna see until April 2013 when I get furlough, I said, and laughed.

So, she said, pointing at the appliances, you said the refrigerator was $250 and then… I couldn’t figure out from the ad how much the rest of it was or . . .

I broke in: Like I said, it all has to go. The fridge could go for $250 or make an offer. The stove, microwave, dishwasher, washer and dryer, all have to go. There’s a chest freezer and pool table in the garage I’m trying to get rid of too… interested?

She dodged that question, said well, I need a lot of appliances and wouldn’t mind getting them all for one price.

I laughed. I told her, I knew from when you called you were a girl who liked to haggle. But I can’t really figure that out a total cost, because I remember what each one cost me when I bought it. I still have all the receipts and paper work. Take that fridge, for example, I paid $1150 for it a couple of years ago.

How much could you go down to? She asked. I mean, if I buy a few other things?
We can go down I said. We chatted a few more minutes. I looked back at the refrigerator. Well maybe down to $200?

Her brown eyes looked to the side, unimpressed. She didn’t say anything.
You were thinking a little less?
$150?

I showed her the ad from ------- in the ------- News, where the very refrigerator was selling today, on sale, for $999. $175 is the best I can do, unless….

Unless I buy a few other things? She ventured.

Well maybe, but that’s not what I meant.

She gave me a suspicious stare.

I could knock off $100, I said, and make it $150. I had her attention now.
Or, I continued, I’d give it to you for $75 on one condition.

What? she asked, anxious now.

I said: Take off those jeans, then bend down. Then put them in the vegetable crisper.

She reached inside her jeans pocket and pulled out a four-inch knife. The blade was open in an instant.

I laughed. I’m not going to hurt you, I said. This is just business. If it’s worth it to you to save $175, you can do it and I’ll enjoy it. You can put them back on when we move it out to the truck.

I gave three people your name, number and address before I came here, she said.

I laughed again. I swear I won’t hurt you, I said. Is it worth saving $175 to you or not? I have to get rid of the stuff and won’t have that much to spend money on by next week, but there won’t be girls there as pretty as you at any price.

She studied me long and hard, sizing me up, thinking, letting me talk, which I am prone to do at length.

Her hands were down at her hips, ready to go for the knife. After a few minutes she raised them to her hips and took out the knife again, setting it on the kitchen counter within easy reach for her. She asked: Are you putting this deal in writing – the refrigerator for $75?

I took out a wrinkled and folded piece of paper and a Sharpie and let her write out the bill of sale. I wrote I AGREE at the bottom of it and signed my name.

Then she reached down to unsnap her jeans, then unzipped them and wiggled them over her hips. She used one foot to kick off a shoe, then reversed the process so she stood half an inch shorter and in her stocking feet, faded cotton navy socks. She pushed the jeans down, showing light blue cotton panties, then well-tanned thighs, knees and calves. She pulled the pants off first the left leg, then the right and held them there. I feasted on her lower body and curves of her legs as she stood there and glared at me.
Put them in the vegetable crisper, I reminded her.

I watched her ass as she turned around and bent over, watched the shape of her body and the concealed parts shift as she bent down, seeing the new shapes pressed against the thin cotton, thrilling at the discover of the tattoo on her left hip.

Nice tatt, I said, as she bent over, her long hair slipping over her shoulder, stuffing the jeans in the drawer of the refrigerator.

Alright, she said, straightening up and turning around. Is that it?

I guess so, I admitted. That’ll be $75 bucks, I said, grinning.

She said she left her cash in the truck. No problem I said. Before we finalize the bill of sale, want to see the rest of the stuff? I asked her.
Did you say there was a chest freezer too?

Yea, out in the garage. I lead the way. She opened the fridge and started to go back for her jeans.

Leave them, I told her. I saw her take the knife, though, before she followed.

The chest freezer was brand new and had a lot of nice storage racks. I had never even plugged the damn thing in. I was asking $150.

It’s a little high, she pointed out.

I know, I said, but it was almost never used. It would be at least $300 new. It was actually $325. A buddy helped me get most of the stuff insanely cheap, so I usually just picked up whatever was available. I probably paid about $100 for it originally.

There are lots of ads for chest feezers, she reminded me.

I guess I could let it go for $100, I said.

That’s what most of them are advertised for, she said.

I could go $50, I said, in the same voice as before, but I want one thing in return.

What? she asked.

Well, I said, laughing, it’s a ‘chest freezer’. How about you take off that t-shirt and then lean down inside and spread the shirt out on the bottom?

She paused for a few seconds and said, only if you stand over there, indicating the opposite wall. I guess she thought I was going to ambush her and slam the lid on her head or something. I agreed and leaned up against a rake and a hedge trimmer while I watched her pull the t-shirt over her head and then watched her slender legs and ass stretch as she bent over and inside the freezer. I felt myself getting hard and did a not very covert job of trying to conceal the erection inside my khakis as she stood up and turned around.
She was wearing a kind of off-white bra that hid the best of her small tits.

So now you owe me $125, I laughed. What else do you need?

Microwave and stove, she said, all business, starting to reach for the shirt.

Same deal, I said, you can get that when you leave.

She walked back into my kitchen in just bra, panties and socks. I showed her the microwave, powerful, good brand. I showed her how all of the nice features worked. The ad said $100, I reminded her. I paid $325 for it new.
She started to bargain, still in the mood. I’ll make this easy for you, I interrupted. I’ll throw that in for $25 if you give me those panties as a souvenir when you leave.

She hesitated. If you really want them, okay, but I take them off in another room and give them to you.

Sure, I said, that’s a deal. You owe me $200 total.

I reached out my hand and we shook on it.

This dishwasher, I said, is really nice. It only uses XX gallons per wash, automatic sanitizer, time delay rinse, and nice organizers. I showed her the features. Cool, she said, at least twice. It was like $450 when I bought it. I could probably let it go for $150.

The other three went for $200 total, she had the ill grace to point out, so $150 is a little high for just this.

Yeah, I said, but we had to haggle over those. So if you want the special deal, what’s your offer?

Never mind, she said. I don’t really need one that fancy.

How about $75, I asked her, as a special price for you?

That’s a pretty good deal, she admitted.

All you have to do, I said, is bend over that counter, pull those panties sideways and flash your pussy at me for three minutes.

No way, she said.

Why, I asked.

Because, she said.

How about two minutes?

No.

90 seconds.

I’m not going to do it, she said forcefully.

I thought you were a bargain-hunter, I said, with an air of disappointment. I’ll give it to you for $50 if you do it for 75 seconds, you have to flash it and spread it out for me to see.

We closed at $50 for 60 seconds.

I set the microwave, now her microwave, bought and paid for, on the timing function, for 60 seconds. I watched as she leaned over and placed her left hand on the counter, right over the dishwasher, and reached her other hand back behind her, pulling the left side of her panties across, revealing her ass and the darker flesh of the crevice below.

Push your hips up a little, I told her. She did. As I got my first glimpse of her little Asian cunny, I pressed ‘Start’ on the microwave timer and started the countdown as she bared her naked slit to me and wiggled her ass slightly, reaching around the front of her thigh and underneath and between her legs, pushing her pussy lips down, out and open so that by bending my knees a little I could see the fleshy pink hole. I brazenly rubbed my hard-on through my khakis during my 60-second countdown, and she gamely kept up the motion, her shoulders rocking and hair waving in unison as she pushed off against the counter top. The microwave counted down and then beeped zero, and she promptly reached over to cover herself, then straightened up.

You’re up to $325, I said, for a refrigerator, chest freezer, microwave and dish washer, I said. Going to call it quits for the day? I laughed. Or do you want to see the stove?

I can’t take all this stuff today, she said.

You can come back for it if you need to, I said.

I’m asking $350 for the stove, I said. I paid $1150 for it. It has two baking zones, see? It’s top brand and no scratches on it. It’s under warranty for another three years. I handed her the warranty, confirmation of registration for the warranty, and proof of purchase.

$350 is a lot for me right now, though, she said. It’s nice. Real nice, she emphasized. But I don’t know I need one that nice.

So, what are you going to do, buy a crappy new one for $325, I asked her.
She didn’t say anything. She knew I had a point. But she didn’t want to pay either.

What would you say to $175, I asked her, bidding against myself.

If I do what? she asked.

I was thinking maybe bend over that stove and let me fuck you from behind, I said.

No way, she countered.

Well make me an offer, then, I said.

Not with that condition, she said.

Fine, just make an offer.

$250.

I laughed. No, no. $175 is a good price for me, it’s a lot of cash where I’m going. I want you to come up on the non-monetary part of the deal. Do you give head?

No, she said. I’m not doing that.

Have you ever seen a stove that does this? I asked, and showed her…. Her almond eyes got almost round. Wow! she said.

So what do you say?

$300.

Nah. How about $175 and head, that was my last offer.

No, she said. The girl was not easy.

Just let me rub it on your ass and shoot my cum on your back, I suggested.

No.

Well do you have any counter offer on the non-monetary side? I asked.

She looked at me, then down at her mostly naked body, then over at the stove.

I could give you a hand job, she offered.

For $175? You would have to be totally naked.

After a few minutes more haggling, we closed at $150, with her topless, and I agreed no touching of her. I found myself sitting on the counter with her standing between my spread legs. Part of the service was her unzipping me and taking out my cock. Before that, she had unclasped her bra and laid it on the counter next to the knife. I watched her small bare tits and stared at her dark red nipples, which were hard from the cold or our haggling, I couldn’t tell which, as she unzipped me. She gamely smiled at me and wiggled her tits side to side a little, even brushing my shins with them as she jerked me expertly. She used her right hand to stroke my shaft and finger the tip, while rubbing my balls with her left hand. Her black hair brushed across me as she was steadily stroking me.

Do you do this a lot? I asked. She didn’t acknowledge the question.

Let me shoot my cum on your tits, I panted.

That wasn’t part of the deal, she replied with a smile.

What do you owe, $525? I breathed. I’ll make it $400 if you just suck me.

She smiled and shook her head, not losing the rhythm in what she was doing.

$525 is a good price already, she replied.

I looked down at her hard nipples, was that wet pussy I smelled? Oh god, I’m gonna cum, I wheezed, feeling my whole body pulsate and explode under her grip. She laughed softly and kept on stroking me, releasing a fountain of cum that bathed my stomach as I leaned back against the kitchen cabinet, groaning in ecstasy. She kept stroking till I held still and my breathing leveled off.
I lifted my head and looked at her. She was looking at me.

I said: If you spread my cum all over your tits I’ll help you carry your stuff out to your truck, I said, laughing. I never said I would disconnect and move the stove. She hadn’t seen that one coming! She looked at me with disdain but with a little respect, too, then spread out the fingers of her right hand, webbed with my cum, and rubbed them across her naked chest.

After she had smeared my cum on her tits -- half begrudgingly, half smirking with appreciation at my gaining the upper hand on a bargain -- I handed her a wash cloth and she wiped it away, pulled on her bra, jeans and shirt, handed me the panties as was our deal, and gave me $525 in cash. After I loaded up the appliances, she drove away and said she would call later. The refrigerators were not going to fit and we could not get them up into her truck. She said she would rent a U-Haul and be back for them by Friday. I shipped out Saturday morning.

I waited all the next day, which was Thursday. At 11 p.m. I finally called the number that had shown up on my caller ID. Hello, a voice asked quietly. Is this ----, I asked. Who is this, she asked. I recognized her voice. Hey ----, it’s ----. I was just wondering when you would come back by. Tomorrow, she whispered, I’ll give you a call. Hey, I said, sensing she was going to hang up, I have this old 32-inch HD flat screen. I was wondering if you wanted it. I don’t really need it, she said. But it’s a nice TV, I continued. Make me an offer. I don’t want it, she said. I’ll give it to you practically free, I said. What’s practically mean, she asked. I hesitated, afraid to say it. Then I did. I’ve been thinking about you sucking my cock, I said, matching her breathless whisper. No, she said harshly. I keep thinking about that tight little Asian pussy and those tits when you were rubbing my cum all over them, and I want you so bad. I promise you that’s not going to happen, she said, I’ll call you tomorrow when I have the truck ready to bring over. Okay, I said, desperately. It was 11:30 by now, and I was facing a desperately lonely night alone. It doesn’t have to happen for real, just play along. What does that mean? She asked after a pause. I asked: Can you pretend like you’re doing it? You know, over the phone? No, she said. It’s not a good time, she said. Please, I begged. Then I whined. I’ll throw in the TV and help you move the refrigerators tomorrow. She gave an exasperated sigh and said, I don’t know what to do. Just imagine you’re sucking my cock and describe it. I have three minutes, she said. And don’t ever call this number again. Deal, I said. So what do we do, she asked. Well, I said, imagine we went on a date and we’re sitting outside your house. You don’t want to go inside yet. Okay, she said, noncommittally. I pictured her flipping through channels on television as she obliged me. I start to kiss you, you kiss me back. I reach inside your shirt, feeling your breasts. Okay, enough, she interrupted. I get it, I said, I’m getting to the point, I know you have to go soon. So I unzip my pants and take out my cock, I said, unzipping my pants and taking out my cock on my end of the phone. I guide your head down between my legs…. There was silence on the other end. Now tell me what you would do, I prompted. I would grip your big thick cock, she said, stroking it like I did yesterday. Then I would suck on it. Ohhh, I said. She continued: just barely on the tip, teasing you. Then a little more, and more. Lick it all over, I said, getting anxious now. Lick me all up and down the shaft. Yes, I’m licking it all over, she whispered. It’s so huge and… big. Do you like sucking it? I asked. Yeah, she said, matter-of-factly. Now I’m thrusting in and out of your mouth, I moaned into the phone, stroking my cock. I can feel your lips on me, your tongue all over the head of my cock, all down my shaft. Can I come in your mouth? I’m not going to do anything like this tomorrow, she said flatly. I know, I said. It’s just for pretend, for tonight. I need you to say you’re sucking my cock, I’m about to get off. Okay, she said. Then she whispered, I can taste your big cock, I’m sucking it. It’s so thick and hard! Oh fuck, I moaned. I want to rub it all over every inch of you, put it in every hole. Mmmmm, she said obligingly. I want my cock and cum all over you, I said, stroking faster and faster. Suck it harder and faster. Deeper! Mmmm, she said. Ooooh, it’s so hard. Oh god, I said, coming! I moaned into the phone as I got off hard. She listened politely until my normal breathing resumed. Had fun, she asked. I could sense the smirk. Oh yes, I said. Call you tomorrow, she said in a business-like voice, and hung up.

I got her call the next morning at 9:30 a.m. She said she was coming by to pick up the refrigerator and chest freezer. I asked if she had found a washer and dryer yet. She hadn’t even looked at mine. She asked me how much I wanted. Well, I said, they’re one-year-old Bosh units with jet black finish and a five-year warranty. I paid $2250 for the pair a year and a half ago. I’ll sell them for $700 with the warranty. No thank you, she said. You know I have to sell these by tomorrow, I told her, you’re gouging me. I’m not, she said, it’s just that I don’t want to pay that much if I don’t have to.
Well, you don’t have to, I told her. How about $200 a piece? That’s $400. That’s better, she said. But what are you going to do to get that price, I asked. Nothing, was her counter. Come on, I said, after today I head off to ____--istan. I may not see another woman for two years. Just … something.

You have the wrong idea about me, she said into the phone.

No I don’t, I said. I don’t have any idea about you, I just think you’re hot and I want you, and you want my stuff and I have to get rid of it. How about $150 a piece and you come over here and give me a piece.

She said: No.

The haggling continued for a good 45 minutes. I told her I wanted her to come over and do in real life what she had described the night before. She said that was going back on our understanding, that it was just a phone conversation and nothing else. The negotiations continued. At one point she offered to give me head and $100 each for the washer and dryer. I reminded her she was getting about $2,000 worth of appliances, that even the head job she had described last night wouldn’t justify that kind of money. They are seriously energy and eco-efficient, I said. You’ll save a couple hundred a year just on that. I need some pussy for that.

We finally settled at a price of $300. There were at least 15 different provisions that went into that. I would give her the washer and dryer and help load them into the U-Haul she was renting. I also threw in the pool table and all of the accessories. In return, she would show up in 90 minutes sharp with the U-Haul. She would be wearing her navy wool coat and black high heel shoes with a strap in front. I had quizzed her extensively about her wardrobe. Under the wool coat she would be wearing her silk negligee top and bottom, and nothing else. She would do what I told her to for half an hour. I refused to go into details, but the reserved the right to cancel the deal if it was too outrageous. I agreed to that. At the end of the half an hour, I would get to fuck her. I would wear a condom at all times. Then, I would help her load all of her purchases in the U-Haul, and I would never mention her or her name to anyone again.

It was closer to two hours later when I heard the U-Haul back into the drive. I saw a high heel and then a bare leg stretch out from under a navy coat and touch the concrete. She walked up the drive, I thought, a little more seductively than she had two days before.

I opened the door for her, shook her hand just as I had two days ago. This time her hair was nicely combed, she was wearing more makeup, plus lipstick and scent. First, I showed her the washer and dryer. She was suitably impressed. I’m just washing up the last of my stuff, I told her, so you can see it works. I pointed down through the clear frontloading lid, where the washer was agitating the clothes in a sudsy circle. Awesome! she said, leaning down to look inside the washer, and then the dryer, which was also humming away drying an earlier load. I said: let me help you with that coat. She turned around and it slid off into my hands, revealing a red silk top that came down to her hips. Under that I guessed were the lace panties she had described. The cut revealed the curve of her ass cheeks. She wore the black heels, which were just as good as I had imagined, and they made an erotic and sharp clap on the stone floor tiles with each step. I hung up the coat on a spare hanger. Now, I said, I want you to climb up on that washer, spread your legs, and play with your pussy.

She climbed up on the washer but crossed her legs, looking at me. The 30 minutes doesn’t start until you do, I said. Slowly, she opened her legs, showing the dark red silk panties. She slid them down her thighs, over the curves of her legs, and then spread wide, her left leg and heel perched on the edge of the adjacent dryer, right leg dangling off the side of the washer.

She slowly and reluctantly moved a hand between her legs and began halfheartedly rubbing her clit in little circles. And then I want you to use this, I told her, pulling a dark blue latex dildo from its hiding place amidst a stack of folded towels. It was a foot long, nice and thick. I reached between two more towels and produced a tube of lubricant. I coated the dildo liberally and handed it to her. She rubbed the lubricated tip up and down her slit and after a few moments slid it further, to the vestibule of her opening, coaxing the wide tip inside, then backing it out, her legs spreading wider to either side as she gyrated the rubber cock. Soon the tip vanished inside. I pushed down my sweatpants and began stroking my cock as I watched her rub the dildo along the crease of her pussy and slide it further inside her, millimeter by millimeter. She had worked it about one fourth of the way in when she stopped and let out a deep sigh. I’m used to the real thing, she explained, looking at the laundry room ceiling. Was she trying a little too hard not to look at my hard and ready cock? I reached out and took the back end of the dildo from her and began gently moving it in and out, up and down and side to side. She obliged me because it was my 30 minutes, as we had agreed. Fortunately for me, the washer began a cycle of very interesting vibrations. It didn’t seem to make her enjoy the movement of the dildo that much more, but the vibrations made her ass and cunny clench and quiver. When the cycle was over, I announced my 30 minutes were up.

I put my hands on her hips and helped her down off the washer and lead her to the other end of the house, the game room, where the oak-carved pool table was located. I told her it was all hers – balls and all – not to mention the stick. She smirked at me but didn’t actually laugh. I pointed to the velvet green of the billiard table. Crawl up on that, lie back and spread your legs, I instructed.

She hopped up on the table and sat there while I produced a condom. It was a leading brand, with a spermicide and an expiration date months in the future. I let her roll it on me and ensure it was done properly. Now lie back and spread your legs, I asked her again.

She lay back on the table, wearing just the red silk top and the high heels. We had left the bottoms behind in the laundry area. Her dark hair spread out in all directions around her head. Stretch your legs all the way out, so they touch the side bumpers, I requested, stripping off my shirt and pants. That way you can see it’s regulation size, I said, laughing, as I crawled up on the pool table between her legs and leaned into her. Her legs were spread wide by now. My cock was hard and long since ready. It found the hot and wet center of her, and the head slipped inside as I pressed against her. I pulled back and pushed forward a second time, third time. She closed her eyes as I entered her, deeper and deeper, soon all the way inside her. She felt indescribably warm and inviting, even parted from her, as I was, by the rubber sheath. I wanted to stay in her forever. Her hips and arms came up to press against me. She started moving with me and in time with me. I felt like she was moving from her center out, and as we were one. Ramming her gave in to moving in time with her. Then out and in as we moved apart and toward each other in time. My hands crept up and up, grabbing her breasts. She pulled them away, and we clasped hands. I leaned against her, seeking her lips. She turned away, and I licked and sucked at her neck. We started to really fuck then. I could feel her response and sense her wetness. Moisture from our fucking had already rolled down to pool in the delicate velvet of the table. She wrapped her legs around me, inviting me further inside. She pulled my right hand, with her left, down to her lips and began to suck it. Ohhhh, she said. It was too much. I began to come and was gratified to feel her coming right along with me, the walls of her pussy twitching and writhing spasmodically as I thrusted faster and faster. I finished and slowly came to rest between her arms and legs. She smiled at me and then unfolded herself. Out! she ordered, half jokingly, opening her legs and pushing gently on my shoulders. I pulled out and unrolled the condom. A stream of white cum pooled onto the green of the table. You’ll have to tell your guests that something got spilled on the pool table, I said, laughing, but I wouldn’t tell them what it was!

I helped her to sit up. She held onto my shoulders, still breathing hard. I looked down at her body and at her pussy , still parted and showing signs of having been well fucked. You owe me $300, I told her. She nodded her head.

After we had completed the exchange, she went to the bathroom to wash. I carried the refrigerators, washer, dryer and phone-sex bonus flatscreen out to the U-Haul. I mostly got by using a dolly. The pool table took a little more work but I got it. I loaded it all in and tied it down. For a moment, as I lashed the appliances to the walls with bungees, I thought about tying her down too. The idea excited me. She got a tremendously good deal. A little too good, I started reflecting.

I pocketed a bungee cord and went back inside the house. I heard the shower running. I pushed open the door and saw her naked profile through the shower curtain. I backed out of the door and, feeling guilty, tossed the spare bungee cord under my bed. I was still sitting on the bed feeling ill used when she came out with a towel wrapped around her body, another around her hair. She had left her coat, negligee and heels at the foot of the bed. She looked surprised to see me sitting there. Can I help you? She asked sarcastically. She reached up to scrub her hair dry, tossing the towel away from her head. Moments later, she matter-of-factly tossed away the towel from her body and knelt, back to me, legs out wide, as she stooped down to pick up the negligee top and bottom. I saw her ass and pussy and the black pubic hairs underneath as she knelt this way, and I began fantasizing all over again about taking her from the back. I was contemplating a move when she stood up. Too late. She pulled the negligee over her head and then looked back at me, head cocked to the side, as her tiny tits were covered. I regretfully watched her body disappear into the all-covering wool coat. I followed her out of the house and watched her legs disappear up into the cab of the truck. I walked over to her and said I was glad we were able to find a good mutual exchange! I held out my hand to her one last time. She took it, pumped it once, then shut the door, backed down the driveway, and was gone.

Exactly a year and a month to the day, a very special care package arrived for me at the base in ____-istan. It was a box addressed to me. I thought I had seen the writing before. Inside was a 10-inch square plastic tray of cookies. At the bottom of the pile of cookies, I found a single 8x10 picture, an almost life-size close-up of a very inviting wet and spread pink pussy.

THE END