Mended in No Time

She had always kept a tidy home, ever since she had married Tom Patterson and they had scrimped and saved to buy a single-level, clapboarded house with its porch, the spacious lot set on the outskirts of Amarillo and in a quiet neighbourhood. They had bought a bigger place than they needed, seeing as it was only the two of them living there.

But she held on to the hope of having kids, and at thirty-five, slim and active socially, there was time for her yet. While she waited for that happy and life-changing event, she worked three days a week and spent the rest of her days acting the house-proud woman and keeping home for her man.

When something went wrong, she got Tom to fix it, and he would invariably and willingly turn his hand to anything. But today, Thursday, he was in a rush to get to work for a special project meeting and, already late leaving home because of her demands that he had to do something 'about the leak', he replied that she would have to arrange a repair.

"We can afford it, Sandra, so get Moreno's to come here and deal with it. They were good the last time..."

"They're general builders, not plumbers...they put in some new windows and made some extra space for us, remember?" she muttered in reply and trying hard to curb her anger. It wasn't often she asked him for help.

"Well, ring and ask them, hon'..."

She gave him a perfunctory kiss in farewell, and grabbing her iPhone, she soon found the number that she needed.

"Hello Misses Patterson," came the cheerful answer when she told them who was calling and blurted out what she needed to be done and the urgency, to her way of thinking "Yes, we can mend a leaking sink and charge a small works rate, a day rate if...if that is okay?"

"Yes, it is. I just want it fixed!"

"It will be, señora. I will send out Enrique Morales...he is here in case emergencies come up. You may remember him from the last time we worked at your place?"

"I do remember," she laughed softly, not because of what had been said, but because she remembered Enrique as the handsome young man who had precociously said that he wanted her to call him 'Ricky'. The horny young guy had flirted with her the last day or two when he was in the house and others in the work team engaged in sundry finishing tasks. Nothing had followed the gazes that he had often cast her way, but she had been flattered by his attention.

"Enrique will be with you in half an hour, señora Patterson."

"Good, and thank you for helping me out so quickly."

"Thank Enrique...he likes to work and not be bored by doing stock-taking, here."

She'd soon take stock of the slender-faced young man with his silken skin, black hair, and the soft, unwavering look of brown eyes and his brilliant, captivating smile.

♥

It made no sense to rush to get to the woman who had called in asking for a leaking sink to be repaired. Traffic cops were a constant pain, and he wasn't going to lose his job because of a speeding ticket.

So, he cruised, the music in the van filling the air with a soft, steady beat. He remembered the attractive woman alright, but he'd only gotten his work ticket a few months before that job at her place had come in, and he had finished his course at college to learn some trade skills and sharpen up his English.

You only needed a few words to let a woman know that you were into her, and, liking what he had seen that last time, he had still restrained himself from making a pass at her. Looking at Sandra, yeah, that was her name, was enough to get to him, the heat of the summer days persuading her to wear a billowy cotton dress with its short hem. It showed off her figure and toned legs, shaping her tits that were firm and round. He'd liked her short, cropped blonde hair and how she moved; light on her feet and like a dancer, almost skipping sometimes to show that something made her happy.

Sandra had sure made him remember the days he'd spent working on her place, and his imagination had needed no prompting to imagine what lay under the summery dresses she wore, sometimes shorts and a short sleeved top -- pink he liked the most on her - Sandra's slender feet always in sandals, the leather clacking on the polished terrazzo floors that had been laid throughout the house.

And he knew just what the kitchen looked like, the black fronted cabinets topped with a white marble slab into which a large porcelain sink had been sunk, and a swan-necked mixer tap arcing over it. There was space to move, to sit at an island unit and eat, drink, or simply to relax and chat. He'd done all of that with her and had wanted to go so much further.

But he'd held back.

Seeing her wandering around the house, and how she moved, had wound his clock tight. It had sometimes felt that he had a permanent hard-on and, if she noticed it, Sandra had said nothing. And now, thinking of her, he felt the ache in his groin once more.

As he slowed his approach to her place, he knew, and felt, that he would not have to start over and respond to what might happen on a day as warm as the last one when he had been here. He wondered if she'd left off wearing a bra that would have held large breasts that were then shaped by the thin cotton fabric of a square-necked summer dress.

Aieee! He would be alone with that woman in her place, and it was early in the day, so chances were he'd not be interrupted if things went the way that he hoped.

♥

Yeah, it was the young guy that she remembered, Ricky waving to her and saying words in greeting as he strolled up the path and stepped into the shade of the verandah.

It had just gone 10:30 am, and Tom had rung to ask if anyone had shown up yet.

"Come on in, Ricky," she smiled before striding through the living room and into the kitchen, her heart all a flutter.

"You remembered my name. señora."

"Yes, and don't call me

'señora'

. It makes me feel old. Call me Sandra..."

"You do not look old to me...Sandra"

"No...now, the leak?" she said and pointed at the sink, dismayed and scarily thrilled at meeting his appraising look upon her. Her choice of dress for the day had not allowed for moments such as this. "The drain or plug-hole leaks and I don't know why, as it has just started, a day or two ago."

"Maybe the water is too hot and expands the joints?"

"I haven't thought of that."

As she spoke and pulled open the door under the sink, she had to bend down and sensed that his appreciative glance was on her. He'd have seen how her dress rose at the back to show her thighs, perhaps how her unsupported breasts strained against the fabric.

Ricky put his tool bag on the floor and brushed past her, knelt, and shone a small torch on the pipework and the waste bends. He nodded, then glanced up. He met her look on him as Sandra stepped away.

"I will take it all apart and wind new sealing tape around all the joints..."

"Whatever is best, Ricky. It's your call..."

She loved his accent, the modulated tone. She liked even more the sight of him and the look of his eyes upon her. What a distraction, from her annoyance with Tom, he would be for a few hours.

She was disconcerted by the sight of him and his behaviour towards her. She was alone in her home with a young and good-looking Latino guy whose toned body filled his blue company shirt, and his chinos work trousers, with patch pockets, showing an obvious bulge. She'd missed how big it was the last time he had been in the house with her and the effect that she'd had on him.

Ricky turned on the tap and ran it for a few moments so that enough water pooled at the bottom of the sink. He then pulled out the plug and squatted down before crawling some way in and pushing bottles of cleaning fluids to one side.

"I've got to lie down."

She said nothing and watched him as he held out the bottles of different cleaning fluids, a tray with cloths and sponges, and assorted stuff she kept down there. She had an opportunity to look at the young guy lying at her feet and to take in just what he packed in those chinos. His shirt had ridden up, and he saw his abs, then shivered as she believed she saw the pink domed tip of his long, caramel skin-coloured shaft.

Could she really believe that he had a hard-on just from being here with her and seeing what she was wearing?

"Well, what is the problem?" she asked, trying to keep her composure, but it was no distraction from what she gazed at. Was he exposing himself to her as she saw the swell of his penis tip push against the waist band of his briefs and chinos? "Tell me...what is the problem, and can you fix it?"

"Yes, I can fix it," he replied as he shifted back from under the sink and gazed up at her. "But do not stand too close, Sandra, because...because you distract me. It was the same as the last time I was here. I...I have to tell you that."

As if to confirm the effect that she had on him, Ricky fingered the bulge in his work trousers, and his look met hers. He then gazed at her legs and how she stood over him, her thighs slender and the skin lightly tanned.

"Ricky, I...I...must ring my husband and tell him what needs to be done with the sink and tap."

She was dismayed to see Ricky's state of arousal and how he brazenly touched himself. It was a sure sign that his shaft had grown and was now straining against the fabric of his chinos and that he could no longer keep the effect that she had on him from her.

"I thought you were beautiful the last time I saw you. Now I can say it...Sandra. We are alone here."

"Yeah, alone..."

She stepped away as tremors of longing gripped her tummy and she felt her pussy spasm and getting moist. Her nipples ached as she saw him stand up, the lightest caress of his fingers to her legs as Ricky did so. Her nipples ached, were hardening and poking against the front of her dress. Neither could keep it a secret; the effect that they had on each other.

She rushed away from him, grabbing her iPhone off the countertop. Her heart was racing; the breath hitched in her throat, and she uttered words to tell Ricky that Tom had to be called.

"Fine, do that if it helps," he called after her before following.

She slumped down on the sofa and leaned on the arm to maintain some distance between them as she called Tom. His meeting had been delayed, but he answered testily.

"I left it to you to deal with!"

"And...and I wanted to tell you what the problem is. I guess I needn't have bothered!"

"Go on, I can talk for a while..."

"That's good of you," she answered, her irritation to be clearly heard. She smiled wanly at Ricky, who seemed to be listening in to the two of them.

Even as she argued with Tom, she was aware of Ricky's closeness to her. His fingers brushed over one cheek, and she gazed up at him. She was met by a soft, sly smile before she saw him tug down the zip of his chinos and then unbuckle the belt that also held some of the smaller repair tools that he used.

As she spoke to Tom, Ricky tugged free his penis and, impetuously, she reached out a trembling hand to touch its hardening length. All that she could think of was how huge and thick it was on a man so slender, but strong. It had to be eight or nine inches long, more than Tom put in her, and it was getting thicker and harder with every slow touch that she offered.

"He can fix it now," she said, her mind wrenched back to her conversation with Tom. "The repairman says he'll wind thin sealing tape around the joints and tighten up all the fixing nuts to make a better seal. He may adjust the water temperature, as that may be too hot..."

As she spoke, her eyes remained fixed on Ricky's shaft, on the trembling length of flesh that he gripped in one hand.

"Go on," she said as if answering Tom.

Ricky took it as her agreement to what those wonderful eyes of hers wanted him to do. They were focused on the massive pole that he gripped in his hand. Soundlessly, he stepped closer and guided the domed tip of his penis past her lips and then deeper into her mouth. He rocked slowly forward and back as she sucked and slicked her tongue over its length and the domed tip.

She eased her mouth of him but maintained her caresses and tugs on his penis. Ricky saw a moment's frown of annoyance as she listened to what her husband was telling her.

"You'd better talk to him, then Tom. I'll bring him over."

She handed her iPhone to Ricky, making sure the camera was off, and resumed working Ricky's penis with her hands and mouth, pushing up his shirt so that so could kiss his stomach, to trail her nails over his skin, and to work him at the same time.

She bobbed her head back and forth on its long and trembling length, filled her mouth with its domed tip, Ricky eagerly rocking slowly forward and back as he looked down at her and smiled, answering Tom's questions and exercising sublime control as she mouthed him.

"Yes, I've got all I need to finish the job...señor Patterson," he said and trying not to laugh at the choice of words and what the woman seated before him was doing with his penis. It was more than he could bear to go on like this.

He moved the phone into another hand and reached down to expertly unbutton the front of her dress and making it possible to claim her breasts. They tumbled free and were not held by a bra of any kind.

"Yes, I'll be through in an hour or so. The time sheet and account will show the time it's taken me."

"Okay, hand me back to my wife, would you...please?"

"Sure..."

He'd 'hand her back' while he fucked her and waited until Sandra held the phone close to her ear before he slipped Sandra's dress off and made her turn to face him and her bum rested on the rounded top of the leather sofa that would feel cool on her naked skin.

"Yes, Tom?"

She clung to Ricky's head as he knelt between her parted legs and began to eat her out. The effort she made to not give any sign to Tom of what was happening to her was difficult to suppress.

"I've told you...and he has...what is to be done, Tom. So, let me go and see that it's done in the way that you want."

She clutched the phone; she bit her lips and clung to Ricky's shoulders and neck with one hand as the domed tip of his long penis parted her pussy's lips and she shifted on the back of the sofa to let him penetrate deep into her warm and wet love tunnel. She stifled a groan as he started ramming his shaft in and out, hitting all the right spots with his massive probing member, his body rocking rhythmically and his movements sometimes plumbing her until she felt that no more could be taken of him.

"It will be a huge relief when the work is done, Tom..."

She continued to clutch the phone and, with a supreme effort of control, did not whimper or give voice to the raging pleasure that a young and well-hung lover was bringing to her. She moved to kneel on the sofa, the absence of Ricky's penis scarcely noticed before he began hammering into her again from behind, her breasts swaying and Ricky's hand groping and massaging, squeezing and tugging on them with each stroke, her nipples pinched until it hurt. She did not stop him.

"Yes...yes...I hear you and I'll make sure that he does the work as you want!"

"Okay, darlin'...I'll let you go. See you tonight...I'll be late."

Okay," she whispered. "Just let me know when you're on your way home. Bye!"

The word of farewell sounded shrill as the phone dropped from her hand and she met Ricky's claims upon her; matched the ferocious pace as he slammed his tool deep into her pussy in long and reaming thrusts. She stuffed one hand into her gaping mouth to stifle her cries of sublime pleasure, and as the rushes of a wasting orgasm ripped through her abdomen, up through her chest, and into her throat. She gasped, struggled for breath as her body was wracked by another climax and before she felt his penis leap.

"Sandra...how you work me!"

His penis was wrapped in a wet glove as she tugged on him and his hands squeezed her breasts; his fingers pinched and tugged on her nipples, and with his mouth pressed to the side of her throat, he stifled his bellows of release. She creamed all over his penis and reached down to rake his shaft with her finger nails as he continued to slam into her.

"Go on...he can't hear us! He's gone!"

"I'm gone, lovely Sandra...you've almost pulled it off me. You sure know how to do it."

She was dismayed by the potency of Ricky's ejaculations. She heard the admiration in his voice and shivered as he slowly withdrew. She turned to look at the young man who had fucked her to a standstill. His penis hung down onto his thigh. It glistened and she reached out to touch it, wonderingly. Flaccid it may be, but it was huge.

They caught their breath slowly.

She could not keep from caressing him, putting her hands under his shirt as she felt him press his body against her, to grab his penis and trap it between them.

"That was great, señora. I have work with wonderful benefits."

"Just see to it that the work gets done and is good to last. I can't think of you coming back to fix it."

Ricky got dressed without any fuss or looking at her as she pulled on the shift dress once more, her swaying breasts scarcely covered as the front was left unbuttoned, enough, so that he could see them.

The dress swept over her skin with every move that she made, and she enjoyed the feeling of wantonness brought on by an impulse fuck with a well-hung young stud.

As Ricky stuck his head and shoulders back under the sink, she grabbed a towel and cleaned the mix of cum and pussy juices from her legs and belly, then watched Ricky work his plumbing magic as they chatted, with him lying under the sink, half in, half out of the cupboard.

She had the opportunity to gaze once more at the swell in his chinos. His penis was spent; they had both seen to that, and she shuddered on remembering what he had brought to her; what had been plunged into her welcoming pussy in behaviour that was quite at odds with what she always shared with Tom.

Ricky shifted from under the sink. "That's fixed it...everything's good and tight."

"Then there's time for this, hon'..."

She groped for his flaccid length, shaped by his chinos as he lay on his back on a dust cloth that had been spread over the tiled floor. She tugged down the zip and pulled his penis free before she sank her mouth over it and worked him into a trembling length, the mushroom head filling her mouth and the veined length stroked by her slender fingered hands.

She jerked him off, felt his hands grope her breasts, but she would have her way with him before Ricky was gone again.

She fellated him with gusto, loved to feel him stiffen, and knew how virile this young guy was. She sucked the tip of his dick for what felt like many minutes, but she sensed he could not hold out from succumbing to this oral assault on what he packed.

He kept shoving his hips up into her face as he lay prostrate on the kitchen floor, and a client mouthed him expertly.

"Sandra...woman!" he yelled, and with that, he shot his load.

He covered her face with jism as he lost control of his twitching penis; spurt after spurt arousing tingling sensations on her face and in her mouth as she swallowed some of what she had provoked him into expending in rushes of wanton pleasure.

"There's no extra charge for this...what we've done," he grinned, and as Ricky moved away and then sat up. "I've done what I came here to do."

"And I'm glad, for everything. My husband left me in a really bad mood. You've made up for that."

She wrote out a cheque as he tidied up his gear and put it into his canvas bag. She then followed him to the door, their hands never straying from what had been claimed over the past two hours of work and play.

"What we've done was amazing, Ricky, but I'm not sure how it would go if I had to call you out again."