Chapter 1: The Plumber
The time is just after noon when you hear a knock at the door. The knock is expected, your sink had clogged and as a lady with delicate nails there was just no way in hell you could clear it yourself. Naturally you had called the only plumber available in town to come and fix it for you. You smooth out your cotton and lace mix negligee that you regularly just wore around the house because of comfort.
Opening the door you stand with a hand on your hip in your sultriest pose only reserved for plumbers you had never met before in your life. The tall and broad dorito shaped man turns to face you because nobody ever stands facing the door for these things; only revealing his dashing rugged good looks at the last moment. His hair is slicked back, eyebrows tidy and above his upper lip is a strong mustache that makes you wanna go for a ride. You lick your lips and welcome him to your home, stepping back and motioning him to “come inside…” while your voice sounds like you’ve smoked fifty a day for five years but not yet developed a lung condition.
He steps inside and motions to the sink filled with dirty water “This your problem sink, ma’am?”
“Why yes, how did you guess?” you close the door and then turn to flutter your extra long eyelashes at him.
“Because I’m a professional.” nods his head in your direction as if dipping his invisible cowboy hat, a small smirk on his face when he puts down his obviously heavy toolbox on the floor making sure you get a good look at his bulging biceps.
You explain that you have no idea what had blocked up your drain this time round as it was working just fine when the pizza delivery man left the night before. Mr. Mustache nods in understanding and gives the sink a very quick once over before deciding that obviously the pipe is clogged and he needs to clear it. “No worries ma’am, I’ve got this.” he gives a reassuring smile as he fails to yet again use your name; but then again you never got his and in these situations, who really cares anyway?
The man lays himself on the floor under the sink and makes quick work of being an idiot by undoing the main pipe directly above him. Pulling away the section doesn’t clear the blockage but does mean his t-shirt is now completely wet through.
“Oh no! Can I get you a towel?” You rush over to your convenient stack of freshly clean hand towels picking up a couple for him to use as he stands once again and slowly peels off his drenched and dirty tee. Once sufficiently dry - but not too dry - he lays back down and stretches out underneath, this time making sure not to cover himself in greasy water while clearing the problem. As he uses wrenches and screwdrivers his muscles move under the skin making you squeeze your thighs together; the small grunts that escape from him when he finds something just a little too tight have you practically wringing your hands into fists.
You stand admiring his taught and toned torso, the low slung jeans that are probably held on only by sheer will power. His chest and stomach have a smattering of dark hair and where he’s been working in a confined space there is a light sheen of sweat that covers all skin on show. As Mr. Mustache emerges from under the sink, clearly victorious, he has grease across his forehead and chest; he stands holding a large heavy wrench in his hand as he declares your sink to be fixed.
“Oh, thank you so much!” You gush like the helpless woman you are and then turn to head towards your handbag which is sat on the floor beside a dining chair. Pulling your semi-sheer negligee tight against your figure you bend down to rummage for your purse. Your ass is perfectly directioned at Mr. Mustache who watches in obvious awe because you’re the sexiest woman he has ever laid eyes on.
You stand and turn to him “I’m so sorry…..I seem to have run short of money…” you step up close against him and lay your hand around the wrench before suggestively stroking along its length. “Is there maybe… another way I can pay?”
The plumber smiles and without warning he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you against him then immediately kisses you so passionately that you momentarily forget what day it is. The kiss becomes frantic and he drops the wrench to the floor so both of his hands can roam over your figure; teasing your nipples through the lace until your moaning into his mouth. You back up against the dining table and lift your negligee to tease what is underneath. Skin, skin is underneath because you don’t ever wear underwear around the house on a normal day when you’re expecting someone. Mr. Mustache is impressed and drops down to his knees then buries his face between your thighs; your head drops back and you moan in pleasure as his tongue explores every part of your pussy over and over. You moan and groan so loudly that the neighbours will no doubt say you were faking but you’ll insist that he was just that good. Nobody will know who is telling the truth.
The man stands, pulling away from your clit with a moan of his own then undoes his jeans to push them down - he too, wears no underwear. You immediately gasp at his size because he’s the largest you’ve ever seen; you have no idea how he is going to fit inside you but you reach down and wrap a hand around his member, stroking him slowly and making him grunt a little while watching you. Soon he is at full hardness and you’re once again amazed at his sheer size; he grips your hips and stands you down before turning you to face away from him and bending you over the dining table sending your clean towel pile flying to the floor.
Your negligee is hitched up to reveal your bare ass which he revels in spanking until it’s pink; you moan with each landing of his hand. Finally he spreads your legs teases your pussy with his fingers until you’re writhing and whining for him to fill you with his cock. He gives no warning but thrusts into you fully with ease; you feel no discomfort and you take his full length and girth with no issue. Mr. Mustache lets out a rough groan and grits his teeth as he thrusts into you; he leans a foot up onto a dining chair for better angle and because of course he looks amazing doing it. You grip the table and whine, moan, suck in air between your teeth because even though he’s barely done anything to you, you’re already going to reach climax.
Seemingly sensing how close you are and clearly not ready to let himself release yet the Plumber pulls out of you and spins you to face him again, lifting your negligee up and over your head he then picks you up and thrusts back into you while using the tall fridge-freezer to fuck you against. Your hair flows down over your face and shoulders in such a way that it frames your looks of pleasure, your breasts are perky and mesmerize the Plumber with every move they make as he bounces you and snaps his hips deep. He again grunts rarely but pants heavily, his hands grip your buttocks and bruise while pulling you down onto him. You loud groans and repeated “Yes!! Yes!!” let him know that you’re close and this time he doesn’t stop. This time he speeds up and make sure his full length is pumping into you on every single thrust. He growls and throws his head back; he has to stay in control, not yet! You wind your arms around his shoulders and arch your back letting out a breathless mewl as you orgasm around him; quick as a flash he’s placed you on the floor and you know what you have to do. You kneel in front of him and push your breasts together then open your mouth, tongue stuck out as far as it would go. Mr. Mustache wraps a hand around himself and jerks until he releases into your mouth, moaning in pleasure and watching it drip down onto your perfect breasts.
You swallow and then clean the edges of your mouth, picking up your negligee from the floor you pull it on and run a hand through your hair to once again tame it. The Plumber redresses himself and picks up his tool box “You have a good afternoon ma’am.” tipping his non-existent cowboy hat once again.
“Yes, thank you so much for cleaning my pipes.” you lick your lips as he leaves and then realise he’s left his large wrench behind for another day.
--- fin ---
Chapter 2: The Window Cleaner
more cliche 70s adult movie inspired plot what plot.
There’s an artificial cool breeze to the stifling summer heat; you’re glad for your AC unit because opening the windows would only invite bugs into your three storey house. You check the time and see that you’ve a while before the window cleaner arrives - just because you don’t open them doesn’t mean you don’t want to be able to see out of them. Your master bedroom is only a few steps away and you strip off your minimal clothing as you walk towards it; walking over the threshold you stop to admire your figure in the full length mirror directly opposite your second floor balcony doors, the glass panes are only barely covered by the thinnest mesh netting - it does nothing to obscure your view out or someone else’s view in; but damn it looked pretty. Besides, your house is positioned perfectly for you to be able to get privacy so proper curtains would never be needed from this side.
Magically you’re now in your ensuite standing seductively under the spray of water for nobody in particular. You’re enjoying the cooler water on your too-hot skin, hands gliding over your figure and slowly lathering up the flowery-smelling shower gel. The suds slowly make their way down your body which is posed in such a way that if anyone were to look in you wouldn’t give away too much.
Outside, the window cleaner has worked his way around to the back of the house and your balcony doors; he uses a ladder to climb up and then swings his legs over the fencing so he has full and easy access to the windows. He goes about his routine and is about ready to start using his squeegee to wipe off the soapy cleaner as you step out of your ensuite in nothing but a towel. Somehow you completely miss the shadow of the man outside your doors and don’t hear his cleaning tools on the glass even though they’re known to make some annoyingly squeaky noises.
You brush your hair through and sweep it back off your face; it dries very quickly and is soon in perfect beach waves which frame your face and fall over your bare shoulders. The towel you had fixed around yourself has worked itself loose and is now pooled on the floor at your feet but you have not a care because nobody could possibly be watching you; except as you turn to head for your skimpiest lace underwear set you finally notice the window cleaner and he’s just cleaned off the streak of soap at eye level to reveal you stood naked in your room.
You playfully gasp and reach for your satin house-robe which barely covers your ample curves. The window cleaner doesn’t bother to turn his gaze away and instead enjoys his private viewing as you walk to the doors and open them; they’re of course never locked.
“I didn’t think you were due until...two thirty?” your voice is breathy from your shower and you bat your naturally long and ridiculously full lashes up at him.
“Its three ma’am.” he answers simply and steps in towards you, which is completely not intimidating in any manner and doesn’t put you at all on edge.
“But my clock says…” you look and now notice that the third arm isn’t moving; the batteries must have died. Turning back to look at the window cleaner you give a small giggle “I’m so silly…I hope I haven’t embarrassed you at all?” you run your hands up his sweaty bulging biceps; he’s been working topless and has burned in the sun. “Can I help with this? I have some very soothing lotion.”
He smiles “that would be very kind of you.” he nods and watches you walk over to your side table to pick up the bottle and then back; your robe falling open as you return gives him another look at your body. You don’t shy away and instead leave it open; enjoying the feel of the fresh air on your skin.
“Why don’t you take a seat?” you motion to your canopy bed, your eyes following him as he moves to sit down on the edge for you. Walking closer and crawling on to the bed behind him you make sure to keep eye contact as long as possible. The lotion drips out onto your fingers and then onto the burned shoulders of the window cleaner making him hum in pleasure. Slowly, partly so you can tease and partly because you never want to take your hands off him, you work the lotion into the heat of his skin. You’re sure to massage firmly to help loosen his muscles as you work your way down his back; your hands move to his ribs and then around to his torso where you drip out more lotion from the pump bottle onto your hand to massage into his toned abs.
Leaning his head back and closing his eyes, the window cleaner relaxes against you clearly enjoying the feel of your hands on him. You notice how much he’s enjoying this moment and undo his work jeans to help relieve some pressure. You’re pleasantly (not) surprised to find he isn’t wearing any underwear and his cock frees itself easily from the confines of the fabric once the zipper is fully undone. You gasp at his size and immediately move to be able to get a much better look; naturally you end up on your knees in front of him admiring his length and girth. The window cleaner leans back on his hands and watches you in faux confusion as if he has no idea where this is leading until you kiss your way along the length of his shaft and finish by sucking lightly on the head. He moans and bites his lip, nodding a little to urge you on.
Needing no further encouragement, you take his cock fully in your mouth. The man is in awe at your lack of any gag reflex and takes this moment to stand so he can fully take advantage of your skill. Your hands are on his thighs as you expertly suck his manhood, groaning around him and leaving him messy with your saliva when he holds your head and thrusts his hips relentlessly. You gasp and let the drool fall from your mouth as he pulls away and directs you to stand; climbing to your feet you let the house-robe drop from your body to the floor while following the tanned and sweaty window cleaner out onto the balcony where he positions you to lean forwards on the fencing surrounding the area. You instinctively arch your back so your breasts are pushed forward as he looks over you, using his foot to make you widen your legs. His hand his hot and rough on your skin yet the feel of it against your spine brings out a trail of goosebumps that follow his touch and make you moan in anticipation. His hand curves to the shape of your ass and squeezes while the other splays flat against the curve of your back. The hand on your ass moves slowly between your legs from behind and barely brushes over you; you moan again and slowly wiggle your hips.
“So ready for me… just like that…” he remarks and finally makes full contact with your wet pussy; his fingers pushing into you and thrusting quickly until he can hear your wetness. You’re gripping the railing and groaning louder, then you’re begging for his cock instead of his fingers. You’re whining and mewling for him to fuck you the way you need to be fucked and after he’s had his fill of your demands he quickly switches out his fingers for his hard cock without warning. You call out and arch your back further, pushing back against him because you have to have him as deep as possible inside you. His thrusting is relentless; both of his hands hold your hips with bruising force but as great as you both feel he wants to go deeper. The window cleaner lifts your leg onto the railings making you balance on your tiptoe; lucky for him that not only are you very bendy, your balance is perfect.
You moan and pant heavily as you feel the head of his solid manhood thrusting hard against the neck of your cervix; he growls as your walls pulse around him and then watches as your head drops forward when you climax. You demand he doesn’t stop and lean yourself up to press his chest to your back giving him an amazing down view of your breasts as he fucks up in to you. He groans and grunts roughly in your ear while talking filth - “That’s it; you cum until it hurts. You cum for me until my cock is covered in you.” - his rough hands glide up from your hips to fondle and massage over your breasts, to tease your nipples; he pinches and rolls them between his fingers making you whine and rock your hips the best the angle allowed. He can tell by your quickening pants that you’re close again and he knows he can’t hold on much longer himself; he calls out and whispers filthy questions in your ear.
“You close for me? You wanna cum around a strangers cock again? You want me to fill you? Or do you want me to cum on you?” his whispers turn to half snarls as he finds himself trying to control his own urge to release then and there. “You a slut for this? You like being fucked by random men? You just need to get fucked that bad, huh?”
You run a hand back around his head and moan loudly, his words too much for you to take as your body releases. You call out as your orgasm takes over every part of you; your legs shake and give out leaving the Window Cleaner to hold you up, leaving you at his mercy as he continues to fuck you until he can’t hold back any longer and fills you deep with his seed. You feel the sticky mess of your encounter running down your inner thigh when he pulls out and redresses himself.
Catching your breath you lean on the railings and run a hand through your hair, posing yourself as seductively as possible. “Say… maybe you could... clean my windows again same time next week?”
He nods “Always happy to help keep some things clean.” winking at you before picking up his tools. “Other things should always stay dirty.”
Chapter 3: The Barista
When you walk into the small, out of the way coffee shop to get out of the rain, the place was already empty. Admittedly it was almost midnight but you expected more people from a college town. Wringing out your hair a little you look around and notice a young man walking out from the backroom; he’s well spoken with an English accent as he introduces himself, he has what passes for scruff on his face while his brown hair is slicked back. You remark at how quiet it is an engage in small chit chat that has nothing to do with anything much as the man pours out your coffee and continues to remove balloons and streamers; you ask what the celebration was for and he sheepishly replies it was his 23rd birthday - all the while his eyes are darting around trying too hard not to look at your chest.
He offers you a towel to help dry off and brings it over with your coffee to where you’re sat, his eyes finally landing on your ample breasts which could be clearly seen through your drenched white blouse and sheer bra; not to mention how cold it had gotten so your nipples were fully erect and straining against the sheer material. The Barista blushes and looks away when you notice and smile.
“Like what you see?” You watch him head back to finish tidying; heading too and from the back room. He doesn’t answer but simply blushes darker.
You’ve almost finished your coffee but haven’t managed to dry off much more when he brings over another. “Hot chocolate. On the house.” he smiles a little and manages to not turn beet red. You thank him and nod “Appreciated, thank you.” He clears your table and then seems to internally fight with himself over saying something to you; evidently his confidence wins over and he makes he was to your table again.
“There’s a heater in the back room… you could dry your clothes and...I’m sure i can find some blankets to wrap up in…? For you…. For you to wrap up in.”
You nod and smile “Can I bring my hot chocolate?”
He smiles and nods “Yes, of course.” motioning for you to follow him through behind the work surfaces to the back room and then heading to presumably get a blanket. While he disappeared up a small set of stairs you lick your lips and slowly peel off your wet clothing until you’re stood in nothing but sheer panties and bra.
You hear his light footsteps and turn to face him when he walks in through the doorway; his reaction was what you had expected and he stands looking over you from head to pedicured toe while gripping the blanket in his hands. “Uuh… I…” he holds out the blanket and looks away briefly before looking back. You knew his type well; acted coy and innocent but when it got down to the nitty-gritty they were the wildest ones in the sack.
“I have a better idea… why don’t you help me warm up and then we’ll wrap up in the blanket together?” You reach up behind your back and unhook your bra, laying it over a free chair beside you to dry. The young man watches you and licks his lips, clearly considering your offer very carefully. “You never been with a woman before?” stepping towards him and gliding your hands up his chest.
“I never said that.”
“You haven’t said anything much birthday boy…so have you?”
“...a few…” he whispers, still looking over you.
“I can guarantee they’re nothing like me…” this time you grip his tee and pull him with you as you step backwards in to the room again and guide him to the sofa to sit down. The Barista leans back and lays his arms along the sofa cushions behind him watching you dance for him slowly; your hips winding and dipping to be able to tease his crotch until his hands grip your waist and his innocent act drops with a small smirk. He pulls you to straddle him and looks over your panties, deciding to pull them off to the side to gain access to your pussy. His fingers push deep and slow, his chocolate brown eyes seem to stare right into your soul as he curls those long fingers and thrusts them into you, making sure to rub over your front wall as his thumb circles on your clit. Your hips rock and dip to his fingers as you keep your eyes on his and whimper softly. The Barista tilts his head and smirks watching you, biting his lower lip and humming as his fingers withdraw covered in your slick.
You look down at him panting lightly and frown "why did you stop?" You moan softly when he lifts his fingers to his lips and uses his tongue to clean them. His sweet and innocent look really was just that, a look. He takes a second to savour your taste and then moves to lay you down on the sofa; his hands make light work of removing your panties and throwing them aside. You wonder if you'll see them again but you stop thinking when his mouth makes contact with your wet folds; tongue flicking and circling over your tight nub making you whimper and arch to his mouth. His hands massage and knead your voluminous breasts as you arch to his touch; teasing at your taught, erect nipples until you're squealing in pleasure and begging for his cock instead of his tongue.
The Barista leans himself up between your open, trembling legs and undoes his jeans, pushing them down to free himself. Your eyes go wide when they catch sight of his size; you wondered where he could have been hiding it in the skinny jeans that were now down around his knees. You reach down and wrap your hand around his cock to jerk him slowly. He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back letting out a moan when you rub your thumb over the head of his cock. You lick your lips, watching and feeling him harden completely in your hand until your patience wears out and you lay back on the sofa for him to do to you what he will. There's no time wasted from him as he moves your legs to lay over his shoulders and pulls you onto his cock, immediately setting a deep and relentless pace.
Your loud groans fill the small back room as the young man pounds into you, spanking your thigh and grinding deep until you're arching and pulling at the sofa cushions; the sound of skin on skin mixes with his grunts and moans, you can hear with every thrust just how wet you are for him. You whine and pant quickly, your body flushes and just as you're about to tighten and cum around him… he switches your positions around and moves you onto your side. You bite at a cushion and rock your hips the best you can; he spanks your ass and grips one of your breasts, his thrusts swift and shallow to tease over your walls until he switches you around again and again.
The Barista thrusts, rocks, grinds and twists into you as he continues to surprise you with new positions to test not only your stamina but your balance too. Each new position change brings more pleasure than the last and you begin to think he's studied which are the best for the woman. His breathing is heavy and ragged, interspersed with loud groans. His palm lands heavy on your ass making you tighten around him briefly and drawing out a strained grunt.
It's during position number 106 - The Dolphin, that you realise there's no holding anything back; the stretch, the feel of his cock hitting your cervix, his hands hot on your skin, his moans of animalistic pleasure…..
"Oh God…!" You call out and scratch at the wall for something - anything - to grip a hold of. You find nothing of any help but it's too late anyway as he tilts his hips a little. You scream out and lean heavily on the wall surface, hoping your leg can hold you as you tighten; clenching around his cock suddenly and feeling your orgasm drip & run on your inner thigh with every following thrust. The Barista groans loudly and snaps his hips a couple more times before pushing deep & stilling when be releases inside you. You moan, feeling his juices inside you mixing with your own; after a few moments he relaxes and lets his now-spent cock slip out of you, watching with a smirk at your glistening inner thigh and then looking down at the wet flooring.
"Would you believe me if I told you I'd never made a woman do that before?" He talks close to your ear and helps you stand properly while motioning to the floor. You run a hand through your hair and swallow thickly; earlier today you would have believed it but you know much better.
"....Nuh-uh." you shake your head.
He winks and nods "it's why this flooring is tile… so much easier to mop up….."