Call The Handyman

After moving into the new house, I discovered all sorts of small projects to address. The first, and most annoying, was the steady drip of hot water in the bathroom. The tap set was shot – probably original hardware for the late 1950s style bungalow, and the shut-off valve wasn’t working either. While I pride myself on being pretty handy, I just didn’t feel comfortable taking apart the plumbing.

Sue, my new neighbour, had arrived on the doorstep and welcomed me with a freshly baked apple pie (wow, did people still do that?). She was warm and friendly, but not overly so, and I immediately liked her pleasant manner. We talked about the great neighbourhood that I’d just joined, while she told me about her own place next door. I guided her through the house and pointed out several of the projects on my ever-growing “to do” list. When we got to the bathroom, she noticed the water flowing from the taps.

“Wow, guess that’s on the top of your list! I wonder how long that’s been a problem…” she echoed my own thoughts. “You know if you need a plumber, I can definitely recommend someone, and he’s fabulous. Of course, I’m biased – he’s my brother.”

At this point, I was just glad to have someone to turn to, as I had no friends with that area of expertise. Sue said she’d give her brother a call as soon as she got home, and to expect him to stop by soon. I’d taken a week off to move and get settled into the new house, so my schedule was pretty flexible. I thanked her again for the pie, and for agreeing to call her brother. It felt like I’d made a fast friend.

The next morning, I was ambitiously hanging pictures and arranging things in all the rooms. July is notoriously warm in this part of the country, so even by 10am, I was already feeling the heat. My long hair was casually tossed into a loose pile on my head, and the cotton tank was already clinging to my body. It was another day of no make up or bra – roughing it, so to speak. I wiped the dripping sweat off my neck and headed to the fridge for an iced tea. Deep in thoughts of paint and trim, carpets and tile, I was startled at the firm knock on the front door.

Opening the door wide, iced tea still in hand, I was met by a large presence.

“Are you Kim?” he asked, his deep voice reverberating off the thin fabric covering my bare bosom. I nodded, almost in a stupor, as his piercing blue stare captivated my eyes. “I’m Steve. Sue mentioned you were having some trouble with the bathroom taps…?”

Again, I just stood there. His frame practically filled the door, his shoulders wide enough to carry a mountain. Although I was aware of my obviously roving eye, I couldn’t seem to tear my gaze away as I travelled over his broad chest and arms to his waist, hips and legs. I was shameless in my visual assault, but wasn’t able to control myself.

With a last gasp of composure, I smiled and extended my hand. “Hi. Come on in. Sue mentioned you were going to be stopping by, but I have to admit, I didn’t expect you so soon!”

I gave him a quick tour of my home, and soon he was commenting on the workmanship of the structure. Each time we walked into a room, I felt his presence immediately behind me. Was it just the heat of the July summer, or was I incredibly turned on by this stranger? Turning to lead him to the bathroom, I found myself pressed against his chest, almost spilling my iced tea on his tight t-shirt.

“Oh, I’m sorry – I almost got you there,” I stammered. His smile assured me that everything was fine, as I led him to the bathroom and the plumbing problems.

Steve put down his toolbox and started to assess the tap set and corresponding pipes from the old sink. I leaned against the doorframe while I watched him move under the sink and back again. His physique was almost perfect, but not in an obvious body-builder type of manner. This was a man who enjoyed physical work, and his body was an ideal reflection of his efforts. While he made a series of “uh huh’s” and “hmm’s”, I slowly sipped my cool drink and thought about what it would be like to tear that shirt from his body and trail my tongue over every inch of him.

“Kim?” his voice interrupted my wanton dream. “This is not going to be a problem at all, but you’ll have to consider making some hardware changes if we’re going to take care of the plumbing. Did you want to put a new tap set on here?”

I had already decided to make some changes to the fixtures before I knew they needed to be changed, so I went and retrieved the set I’d purchased. Approving of my choice, he started to pull out tools and get himself organized.

“I think I’ve got some parts in my van to replace the old water lines – I’ll be right back, okay?”

Steve brushed by me in the doorway, giving me a sly smile that went straight to my nipples. I checked myself in the mirror, and although I was not at my best, the natural look seemed to be radiating from my skin. Yeah, probably ‘cuz you want to lay this guy like a cheap rug, girl, I thought. Chuckling to myself for my silly fantasy, I topped up my iced tea and poured Steve one, too.

He returned to the house, obviously claiming what he needed for the job from his van, and moved into the bathroom to get started. “Hey Kim?” he called.

I brought his drink to him, just grazing his hand as I passed it over. The chemistry shot through me like a shock of electricity and our eyes locked for just a moment.

”I’m not sure if you just want me to fix all this, or if you want to help me and maybe learn a bit in the process – why don’t you tell you what you’d prefer?”

The suggestive tone to his question sent my mind racing in all sorts of non-plumbing related areas, but I quickly jumped at the chance of spending some time with Steve. He chuckled that he was glad he had a “grunt” to order around, running his large hand through his dark, wavy hair and giving me a quick wink. Playfully defiant, with my hands on my hips, I refused to accept the title of “grunt”, and suggested he could easily be wearing the iced tea instead of drinking it. We both laughed and started on the repairs.

My job initially seemed to be preparing for the worst-case scenario by having a stack of towels ready, as well as a bucket for any burst of water. Steve talked me through each step of the progress, and I sat on the floor watching his handiwork. Well, if the truth were known, I was watching him move and reposition himself as he lay on the floor under my sink, responding with the appropriate replies where necessary. My shameless appreciation kept focusing on the package kept below his belt, wondering if what they said about men with large hands was really true. Unconsciously licking my lips, Steve broke into my thoughts with a repeated request for a tool that was just out of reach.

“You seem deep in thought,” he stated. “Anything you want to share?”

I passed him the wrench, getting a closer look at the pipe he was working on. The heat of embarrassment shone in my reddened cheeks and my heaving breasts that felt ready to burst through the cotton of my tank top.

“No,” I said hesitantly, “I’m…I’m good,” not convincing either of us.

Flirting openly with me now, he stared directly into my eyes and said, “I’m sure you are…good, that is.”

Okay, I thought, two can play this game! “Well, not always,” I coyly responded, reaching across him for my iced tea. My hand rested on his knee while I regained my position, offering to grab his drink for him, too.

He came out from under the sink and counter, taking his glass from my hands. We clinked glasses in a mock toast, and sipped the smooth beverage, our gaze never leaving each other. Steve had an air of confidence around him that I found myself drowning in. His strong frame and demeanour made me weak in both spirit and physical stature (good thing I was sitting down!). Passing me his glass, he suggested I get under to sink to see what he’d done so far. It was awkward to see the work at first, so I stretched out on my back and looked up at the new chrome and flexible hosing, all the while hypnotized by the deep sound of his voice. Crouching nearby, he started to explain his work.

“Kim, either I’m boring you to tears, or you have something else on your mind. Which is it, I wonder?” Steve mused.

I couldn’t bring myself to actually admit the lust that was filling my mind. Suddenly, he grabbed my waist and dragged me out from the under the sink. I gasped in shock and anticipation, as he lowered his face next to mine. Whispering in my ear, he said, “I think you’ve definitely been thinking about something else. Let me guess…”

His lips nibbled my earlobe while a small groan escaped my mouth. The hot breath from him left a trail over my neck, to my mouth. Pressing firmly, he seared his lips to mine, and deftly teased them with the tip of his tongue. My arms immediately wrapped around his neck, returning his kiss with a feverish pitch. I pressed up, pushing my full breasts into his firm chest. He returned the passion by pressing his manhood down into the apex of my spread legs. We were like two animals in heat, clawing at each other with an intensity that appeared with a vengeance. I pulled at his shirt, almost ripping it off his chest and over his head. My hands raked over his smooth chest, my fingernail circling each nipple. Smiling, he pulled at my own tank top, but instead of pulling it off with urgency, he slowly moved it up my body. Inching it ever so slowly, his fingers kept tracing my skin as the fabric moved up and over my breasts. My breathing was quick and shallow as I waited for him to free me from the cotton, but he wasn’t giving in easily. Once the top cleared my head, he lowered his hot mouth to one nipple then the other, sucking them to hard bullets. Moaning my pleasure, I held his head while he devoured my body.

The tempo started to rise again, and my hands moved to the waist of his jeans. He looked up at me, grinning. Steve was clearly enjoying this as much as I was, and he brought one hand down to undo the zipper. Slipping the jeans and boxers off his tight ass, I moved my hand to grab his tool. Pleased to discover that his large hands didn’t lie, I caressed and stroked it, while letting my fingers occasionally drop to tease his weighty balls. Now it was his turn to moan. My rhythm was steady and firm, and with each stroke, his cock seemed to get harder and harder. His hand moved to tease me through my own shorts, pressing on the denim seam between my legs. I moaned with approval and desire, wishing his fingers would find the wetness underneath the fabric of my shorts. As if reading my mind, he brought his hand to the button and pulled it open with a firm motion. The zipper opened in the same motion, and his hand slipped inside my panties to the wetness that pooled between my legs. A loud groan burst from my throat as his fingers plunged into my pussy. I pulled my hand from his steel rod to push my shorts off, while his fingers pummelled the velvet flesh between my legs.

Steve moved down slightly, and lowered his head to replace his fingers. His hot tongue licked hard at my pussy, driving to assault my clit with wet lashes. Pushing my legs even wider, he spread me open for clear access to my flood. My fingers kept running through his hair as he expertly teased my clit. I could feel my orgasm approaching, and as if reading my mind, he returned his fingers to work in tandem with him oral efforts. Breathing faster, I could feel the wave cresting. Steve lapped harder, pushing deeper and deeper with his large hand.

“Come on, baby…you’re almost there…” he panted.

That’s all the encouragement I needed, as my orgasm flooded over my body and exploded. Steve kept the pressure on, but not too much, so that the second wave could appear….and the next one… I cried out in exhilaration, unable to contain the passion escaping my lips. When the pulsing subsided, I pulled Steve up to my face, licking my own juices from his mouth. Immediately hungry again with desire, I reached down and grabbed his cock. He moved over to lie flat on the bathroom floor, and I repositioned myself between his legs. Looking up at him, I winked and lowered my hot mouth onto his throbbing weapon. Taking him deep into my throat, he moaned his approval. His hand moved to my head, gently grasping my hair, but not pushing me down. My tongue trails up and down his cock, stopping occasionally to lap and suck on his balls. Stroking with a firm grasp, I kept him on the edge, feeling his intensity build. While my mouth continued to engulf his full rod, I sensed he was ready to explode and increased the tempo. I was still so hot from my own orgasm and I wanted Steve feel it, too. My mouth and tongue drummed out a beat on the hard skin of his cock, dancing playfully over the smooth head and lapping up the pre cum that oozed out. His hands fully grabbing my hair and head, he followed my rhythm, ensuring that his own orgasm was just moments away.

“Oh god, Kim….yeah…that’s it, baby…don’t stop,” he groaned.

The urgency and want in his voice drove me on as I bobbed up and down with furious intensity. Feeling the pulse throbbing from the very base of his hard rod, Steve pushed forward, ramming his cock into my mouth with full force. “Oh…YEAH!” he yelled as he unloaded, his hot creamy cum spewing in long spurts down my throat. Not spilling a drop, I lapped up his juices and collapsed onto his hard belly, my head nestled below his ribs. Our breathing soon matched, as we lay on the cool tile in the hot July morning, recovering from our primal urges.

I lifted my head, pushing the damp hair out of my eyes, and looked up at his rugged face. “So, is that what they call the ‘Handyman Special’?”

Grinning that same wicked smile, he stared back, “Not even close, baby…not close at all. But I’m sure you’ve got some more repairs around this old place, don’t you?”