She stands puzzled under the shower nozzle. She looks up and her eyebrows knit together. This is Monday morning and she needs to get cleaned up, the postman should be here with her much anticipated letter. The thought that she has become addicted to her Monday letter as sure as a drug addict needs his fix briefly crosses her mind before she brushes it to the back of her overactive imagination. She stamps her foot in the very dry tub and twists the knobs back and forth. There simply is not a single drop of water to be had. She runs her tongue over unbrushed teeth and jumps when she hears the doorbell.
She climbs out of the shower...still very dry and grabs the mouthwash...a quick swish and as the bathrobe slides over her shoulders she quickly makes her way to the door. She cinches the tie tightly around her waist and slowly opens the door...peeking her head around the corner.
Standing on her door step is a man dressed in coveralls, carrying a large toolbox. He waggles his ID badge at her and says simply, "Plumber."
Just that one word which leaves her staring dumbly at him...one hand on the door and one on the tie of her bathrobe. There is a long awkward silence before the word, "And?" tumbles from her lips, her brows knitting together forming a furrow above the bridge of her nose.
He looks at her as if she has spoken in a foreign language and then gives half a smile and says, "We knocked your water out and I need to shut off the valve in the house before we can repair the main. May I please come in?"
She takes a few long moments to consider...and then says, "OK, but can you check my mail for me first?"
She waits until he retrieves her mail before opening the door wide enough to allow him and his enormous toolbox to enter. She takes the mail and flips through it, smiling broadly as she finds the letter she has been waiting for. She grins and with a backward glance at the plumber says, "The main is in the basement, just give a holler if you need anything." With that she flounces away down the hall to her bedroom to savour the letter in private.
She listens until she hears the sound of his boots on the stairs, then tears open the letter and while the envelope flutters to the floor her eyes start scanning the words, devouring the contents. She smiles, then frowns, then shakes her head and starts at the top again.
Dear Purty,
Your two favorite men are getting a break this week. UPS is home with the flu and your mailman has strained his groin muscle. He says he did it at work...we think you are the cause of his man muscle strain. Either way, both are out of commission this Monday. So we pondered about how to keep you busy. It seems there is a plumber with a fetish for back door work, and when given the opportunity to ravish an unsuspecting woman in her own home...well let's just say he jumped at the opportunity.
Enjoy your plumber.
Yours Truly
The Monday Morning Club
After rereading the letter, digesting the aforesaid devoured words, a look of panic crosses her face. She strains to hear sounds of work wafting up from the basement and as the silence builds to a screaming crescendo, she exhales slowly and stares as the doorknob turns silently. There is not a sound as the well oiled door slowly, ever so agonizingly slowly bows inward. All of a sudden he is there, filling the door frame, still carrying the over-sized tool box. The plumber is as naked as the day he was born, grinning from ear to ear as he pronounces, "Happy Monday." His tongue flicks out over his bottom lip as his eyes travel from her bare feet to the throbbing pulse at her neck. He steps inside and kicks the door shut noisily behind him.
She stares at him, taking in his broad shoulders, his strong muscular legs and the tip of his cock as it peeks from behind the toolbox. Her eyes widen in shock, as she realizes that this man is about 6'4" tall with long legs and his cock is hanging flaccid to just above his knee. What must that cock look like in all its erect glory? She is unsure if she wants to know...but knows that she is about to find out. She cannot deny anything the Monday Letter Club suggests, she is totally hooked. She is allowed to be afraid, and that she is...her large eyes and quivering lip a physical testament to the unease welling up inside her belly.
He stands just inside the closed door and smiles, "The water is fixed, you can have your shower soon, but first, a little warm-up." He lets the toolbox move to his side as he approaches the bed where she sits waiting.
Her eyes bugging out at the gentle sway of the cock that must be at least 11 inches, it twitches slightly as she stares. She swallows nervously, wetting suddenly parched lips. He sets the toolbox beside the bed and stands with his hands on his hips, staring at the slight parting of her robe, the sudden thudding of her heart seems to fill the room. He reaches for her hands and pulls her to her feet. His hands swiftly untie the robe and gently pulls it from her shoulders. He runs a warm fingertip over her collarbone as the robe puddles on the floor at her feet.
She pulls in a deep breath and opens her mouth to ask him just what he has in mind, but before the words can reach her lips, he bends his head and captures her lips with his own, swallowing her unspoken words. His gentle touch, the hot touch of his lips, and her legs start to quiver with anticipation. His hands run along her sides and he pulls her hands behind her back, her hardened nipples scraping the soft hair on his chest. She shivers, as one of his hands captures both of her wrists, he nips at her bottom lip before tearing his mouth away, staring deeply into her eyes.
She catches her breath, and asks, "Are you the 'backdoor plumber' my letter warned me about?"
