Highly readable account of a pixie-ish home decorating diva who, along with a woman carpenter friend, works to satisfy her master, the narrator. M/f+, BDSM, lingerie, toys, consensual, reluctant. Also, spoof of a certain home improvement TV show 2001-2008.
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Chapter I - Up to and including Wednesday
I was thrilled to be coming home from a week-long computer convention in Las Vegas. It was the Sunday before Thanksgiving. I had been watching the airline stewardess, a lithe, sexy woman, bend and twist to serve the passengers, and I wanted nothing more than to get home and bury my erect dick in my new wife.
She met me at the door with a great grin on her face and a big passionate kiss. "Come on," she said, tugging at my hand.
Maybe you've seen that cable show? You know, where the husband goes away for a weekend and the wife and a remodeling team redo a room in the house? It's like that other popular show where couples work on each other's houses, then come back home for a grand unveiling.
My wife Mindy in fact looks a lot like that host on that second show. She's a thin, pixie-ish woman, always smiling, bundle of energy. Thin-waisted, tight butt, heavy-breasted, and a shaggy, very stylish short hair-do.
Mindy loves to decorate and remodel. She has a tremendous talent for color and an eye for design. She's a talented seamstress/tailor, always reupholstering something, taking in her own clothes, cuffing my trousers. She haunts the weekend garage sales for bargains.
I had already detected the slight scent of fresh paint and some thing more acrid. Plastic, maybe? She led me down the back kitchen stairs to the basement.
"Ta da!" Our bare bones basement had been transformed. It was never very hospitable, with concrete walls and bare floor joists overhead. But now it looked like a fashionable family room. New carpet (the plastic smell) adorned the floor; finished walls featured fresh paint in an unusual warm tone. The ceiling had been finished.
The TV/VCR was in a new-to-us boxy armoire, with three drawers under it. There was a desk with straight-backed chair, a wooden slat recliner, a huge dartboard on one wall. Facing the TV was a futon-style sofa, behind an unusually heavy, boxy coffee table. Even the supporting post in the room had been carpeted over.
"This is awesome," I said, bounding around the room, glancing into the adjoining bathroom, taking in the window treatments and more. Mindy's needle and thread had turned out stylish curtains covering our high windows. "You didn't do all this work by yourself?"
"I had a contractor do the ceiling and help with the walls. And the carpet was put down by professionals," she said, one hand holding the newly carpeted post. "But I did the rest, with some help from Amy Lynn. " Mindy and Amy Lynn were long-time friends; beautiful with long dark hair, Amy Lynn was a trained carpenter.
"You like it?" she asked, fishing for more compliments
"How much did you spend?"
"Under four figures, of course."
"Let me show you how much I like it," I growled, seizing her up in my arms.
She pushed me away. "Tonight's bad for me," she said coyly.
While I was disappointed (read: frustrated), I let the matter drop. I was so pleased with the tremendous amount of work she had done. Truth be told, I was very tired myself. Guess I can't control monthly cycles, I thought.
Monday and Tuesday were busy catching up on work. Wednesday afternoon, Mindy called asking when I'd be getting home. "Soon," I said. "I've worked essentially 11 days in a row. I'm out of here early today."
"Good," my sexy wife breathed across the wires, "I've got a surprise for you."
I broke several traffic laws getting home.
When I came in, she was nowhere in sight, but once doors closed and briefcase dropped behind the sofa, Mindy made her appearance.
She wore a diaphanous half-skirt, starting at each hip and trailing behind her, almost like a cape. It swept from a lavender bustier that Mindy had precisely fitted to her trim figure, highlighting her cleavage. Matching panties were pulled snug, highlighting her sex. She wore 2-inch strappy heels, and no stockings. Heavy make-up highlighted her cheekbones and delightful large eyes.
She kissed me on the cheek and then pressed a cocktail glass into my hand. "Here, drink this while you change."
I threw my clothes all over the bedroom, slugged down the vodka, ran a toothbrush through my mouth in record time, and pulled on the fitted karate pants she had left out for me. Some time ago, she had carefully taken them in as well, fitting my crotch especially snug. She said she loved the way the material outlined my erect cock and balls.
She led me down those kitchen stairs, and I thought, a-ha, we're going to break in the new room. But what met my eyes dazzled me anew.
It was the same room, but somehow different. The warm rosy walls were turned an angry purple. I saw that the usual lamps were dark, that she had turned on only the sconce lighting which had been fitted with a few purple bulbs. It was a very different mood: darker but more intimate. Delicate candles burned throughout, throwing off a heady fragrance and adding to the mood.
The futon mattress had been pushed off the frame. The frame unit had been placed atop the heavy coffee table, and laid open. A thin mattress lay atop it.
"See?" She was looking for my reaction. "Multi-purpose." she said simply.
