A Handyman's Memoir

"Hi, I'm Lacy's mother Denise. Lacy tells me I need to have you come over here. I trust her judgment, so... so I guess your some kinda handyman or somethin'? Call me..."

That was the first voice-mail I got from Denise. This was right after it:

"Hi, me again. Sorry...did some shots with my friends, I'm a little scattered. So Lace tells me your hot. Call me..."

And this was right after that one:

"Boy, this isn't goin' well (laughter). 555-2173. There, we got that outa the way. I don't know what she wants me to do with you, but we'll figure somethin' out (laughter). You're a handyman right? OK..."

I laughed as I listened to them, and I called her back and made an appointment for the following afternoon. They lived in one of the few old trailer parks left in town, a fairly nice one north of the city, only ten minutes or so from the river.

I grilled a steak and had a nice quiet dinner on the porch, and saved the leftovers for Lee in case she was hungry. She walked over in the dark after her hospital shift, using a flashlight to navigate her way through the woodlot between us. It was a little after ten. She looked wiped out after a crazy day in the E.R., and was delighted to have a plate of food and a glass of wine placed in front of her.

"So I got some voice-mails today that are pretty funny," I said. I played them for her and we both laughed.

"Oh my God, that's too funny! You know, she's a really sweet person, but definitely wild. She's a bartender somewhere. Maybe you've seen her around, she's pretty hot. I met her at work. I already knew Lacy — she and Becka have been friends forever — and then a few years ago Denise came into the E.R. all bruised and with a broken arm from her boyfriend. She likes bad boys and bikers. You're not her type, you're way too nice," Lee laughed.

"Should be interesting — sounds like she doesn't even have a job for me," I said.

"Sad to say, but Lacy probably just wants her to hook up with a nice guy for a change," Lee said.

"Maybe," I said. "So how was it today."

"It was ugly," she said. "I don't even wanna talk about it. I think I'm starting to burn out. It happens a lot with E.R. staff. The only thing that got me through was thinking about that slow fuck you promised me." She gave me a tired wink.

"Boy, you look beat," I said. "Do the girls know you're here? If you fall asleep I don't want them to worry about you."

"Yeah, they know. They're jealous I think," she said with a little smile.

"Wow, that's kinda weird, isn't it?" I said.

"Sure is," she said. "It's good though. I haven't had much time to spend with them yet, but I loved the dynamic between us this morning when they were telling me everything about last night. It's the most open, real conversation I've ever had with them. It was really wonderful. I had tears in my eyes a few times just because of how wonderful it was to have them opening up to me."

"Nice. They're sweet girls, with a sweet mom," I said. "You've never told me about their dad, what's up with him?"

"He moved back to Sweden," she said with a disgusted look on her face. "He came over here to college, we fell in love, married, kids. Fifteen years later he gets homesick and has to move back. I wasn't about to uproot the kids at that point, or myself. We'd grown apart anyway, so..."

"That explains all the blonde hair and blue eyes," I said.

"Yeah, they get it from both sides," she said. "I'm mostly Dutch."

"So, what do you say I rock you to sleep on my big fat cock," I said.

"Oh my God, that sounds like heaven. You should re-name this place Camp Heaven."

"Taken already," I said. "My friend Penny — she was the one on the porch Memorial Day — she's got a sweet little place way out in the woods near Long Lake. She named it Camp Heaven last summer."

"After a wild orgy I'm guessing. I guess all my wishing for a better sex life these past few years has paid off — looks like I fell in with the right crowd," she said with a tired smile.

"It's only been about a year since I fell into it all too," I said as I stood and reached out my hand. "Come on sweetie, one slow fuck, comin' up."

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I parked my truck in front of trailer number 17 the next afternoon. It was pretty rough looking, but clean. The entire front yard was cement. Parked on it was a tired looking old Toyota pickup truck and a customized, well-used and dirty Harley Davidson Sportster, parked under a small, badly constructed plywood roof. There was a faded plastic palm tree next to the front steps. I knocked at the door and Denise answered.

"Holy shit!" we both said almost simultaneously. She was one of the bartenders at my favorite blues club, and she recognized me immediately. We call her Dennie at the bar, and I should have put two and two together when Lee described her.

"So you're the Steve my Lacy's got the hots for. I get it now," she said with a smile. "How the hell are ya? Haven't seen ya at the bar much lately."

"I'm doin' good," I said. "I'm busy with this new business, and a whole bunch of new friends, so I haven't been gettin' out to the clubs as much lately."

"Too busy screwin' twenty-year-olds," she said, and she squeezed my ass as she ushered me inside.

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea about that," I said. "I didn't pursue her, she was with my neighbor's girls and, well, one thing led to another."

"Wow! You nailed the girls next door too, huh?" she laughed. "Tammy and I always thought you were hot, but I had no idea you were such a mover." Tammy's another bartender at the club. I was getting a little uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going, so I changed the subject.

"So what kind of jobs can I do for you," I asked, looking around. The place was pretty nice inside.

"I can think of a few," she said, running her eyes over me and laughing, "but they're probably not on your list of services — or are they?" She looked up at me seductively.

"If you don't mind me making a suggestion, the first thing should be fixing your front steps. They're kinda dangerous," I said.

"Well that's not nearly as much fun as what I was thinking, but yeah, let's do that," she said. "You know bartenders though, we're broke mosta the time. Can you give me an estimate first?"

I gave her a super cheap price and got started. It was just pressure treated two-by-fours and plywood, and I ended up building a whole new unit back at my house and trucking it over. Unlike the old one, I made it look nice, with lattice and stain and a sturdy railing, and it ended up costing me more in materials than what I was charging her. I didn't mind too much, because I liked Dennie and Lacy, but I tried not to make a habit of such things.

"Holy shit, that's unbelievable!" Dennie said when I showed up with it on a trailer behind my truck a couple days later.

"Do me a favor and don't tell your neighbors what I charged you for this," I said, "or I'll go broke in a hurry."

"I won't tell, as long as you won't tell how Lace and I are gonna reward you for this," she said with a seductive smile. Lacy hadn't been there the other day — she was at the local Community College taking a class, but this day she was there, and she emerged through the front door behind her mother with the same exact seductive smile. It was uncanny, and my cock sprang to life.

"Hi Steve," she said.

"Hi Lacy, how ya doin'," I said. "No classes today?" She shook her head slowly and never lost her seductive gaze.

"I talked to Katie last night. That was so nice, what you did for her," she said.

"You're full of surprises Steve," Denise said, shaking her head and smiling. "You're such a mid-mannered gentleman at the bar — I never woulda guessed."

The two of them standing there casting their seductive spells on me was almost too much to take.

"OK then... I uh... I better see if I can get this into place," I stammered out like an inexperienced teenager. "Can you move your truck out of the way for me?"

Denise, wearing skin tight faded jeans like she always does, slid her thin body behind the wheel of her truck with the grace of a dancer. She always moves that way behind the bar as well, which is why she mesmerizes all her male customers. Well, that and the fact that she never wears a bra. Bartenders with big tits use cleavage to fill the tip jar. Denise, with her perfect but very small tits, uses nipples. They're always very noticeable through her small, tight t-shirts. She started the engine with a loud, rusty-muffler roar, and backed the little truck out of the way.

The three of us pulled the old steps out of the way, and I backed my trailer into place and rolled the new ones off using some short pieces of pipe as rollers. In just a few minutes I had them in place.

"Fuckin' A!" Denise said. "Best steps in the park!"

I broke up the rotten old ones with a sledge hammer and threw the pieces on my truck. A little sweeping and I was done.

"Inside young man, for your reward," Denise said, with that seductive smile again.

"Maybe just a glass of iced tea or something," I said, not wanting to be too presumptuous. Denise broke up laughing.

"No silly! We're gonna fuck your brains out. Ever been with a mother and daughter before?" She could tell by my silence and the look on my face that I had — Ally and Nicki, although never just the three of us alone.

"Holy shit you're a wild man!" she exclaimed. "I'm fuckin' amazed." She shook her head in disbelief. "And here I thought this was gonna be special for ya."

"Oh trust me, this is special," I said. "I've fantasized about you for years. Every guy in the city has I think." Lacy beamed with pride looking at her sexy mom. "And Lacy," I said as I put my arm around her, "she already blew my mind once. Yeah, this is gonna be special all right."

"Well what the fuck are we waitin' for!" Denise said, walking up her new steps into the trailer.

Denise took my hand and led me into her bedroom, and Lacy followed us in. Denise's little t-shirt was off and her jeans were unbuttoned before I even knew what was happening.

"Hey, slow down!" I said. "I've often dreamt of watching you strip. I don't want it to happen too fast."

"Ooo! OK sweetie. Turn on some music Lace," she said. Lacy turned on a little potable CD player on the dresser while Denise put her t-shirt back on. "You know I used to do this for a living — that club on the North side. It was fun, but the owner said my tits were too small."

"He's crazy. You're perfect," I said. "If you ever get a boob job I'll be pissed. And I've heard at least a hundred guys say you've got the best ass in the city. Hey, I know a girl who used to dance at that club a long time ago. She's a hippie girl named Jayne. She told me her stage name was Sugar. You remember her?"

"I don't know honey, I did so much coke back then..." she said. "I'm clean now though. Life is good," she said with a big smile.

Her thin, lithe body started moving to the music and I sat back against the headboard of the bed.

"Come on Lace, show him what you can do," she said, encouraging her daughter to join her dance. I winked at Lacy, and a big smile — a perfect clone of her mothers — grew on her face as she started some sexy moves.

They pivoted around slowly, hips rocking and swaying like belly dancers, and slowly lifted their shirts. At some point in time Lacy had lost her bra, because her tits were bared as she lifted her shirt, just like her mom. Lacy was watching Denise's moves and mimicking her as they continued, running their hands up their bodies to their tits and slowly humping the air. They pivoted around again, swaying to the beat of the music, and presented their asses to me as they slid their pants down, their backs arched to the max. Denise folded herself in half at the waist, looked at me through her legs, and ran her fingers from her asshole down through the folds of her cleanly shaved pussy. She giggled and smiled broadly. She straightened up and put her hands on Lacy's hips. They were both naked now and she pulled Lacy against her and they ground their pelvis's together to the beat.

"I think the room's about to burst into flames," I said, and Lacy giggled.

"Lacy tells me you have a beautiful cock," Denise said, still grinding. "Why don't you show it to us."

I stood up and was naked in about ten seconds, and they danced their way over to me, still grinding their bodies together.

"The girl has good taste, I'll give her that," Denise said as she appraised my naked body and took my hard cock in her hand. "Nice!" she said as she felt its length.

She drooped to her knees and inhaled me. Lacy laid on her side on the bed, her head propped up on one arm. She was watching intently, taking mental notes of her mother's technique. It was definitely technique worth studying — Denise was a blow-job artist. No, more than an artist — a grand master, and I was putty in her hands. It was so exquisite I was hoping it would never end, but unfortunately that's exactly the kind of blow-job that ends rather quickly. An explosion that started in my toes gathered steam and erupted into her mouth, and the way she massaged my balls and groin while it was happening sent me into orbit.

"Jesus Dennie! What the fuck!" I said as I stumbled onto the bed, barely able to make it. "How did you do that?" I said breathlessly with my hand on my crotch, my pelvic muscles still twitching. Denise look at Lacy and winked at her.

It took me a while to recover — I've never been so drained of sexual energy by a blow-job before — but once we all got going it was an amazing session with a sexual artist and her apprentice. We fucked long and hard, and thoroughly wore each other out. Late in the afternoon, when we were all laying on the bed exhausted, Denise said I should probably go.

"My boyfriend usually stops by after work for a quickie," she said nonchalantly.

I had visions of Lee nursing my bruised and broken body in the E.R. and I got dressed quickly.

"Isn't he gonna notice?" I said, gesturing to her obviously well-fucked bright pink pussy.

"He'll get over it when I give him a blow-job," she said. As I remembered the blow-job she had given me, I thought she might just be right.