Plumber

I had this job of replacing old galvanised pipes at an old property. The pipes had been slowly corroding and blocking for years and the owner was finally tired of the trickle of water he got. He wanted copper pipes throughout.

Replacing old pipes with copper is a relatively easy job. The only labour intensive bit is digging the trench from the initial stopcock to the house and a practiced plumber could do that without even raising a sweat. After that it was a case of crawling under the house and poking about inside the walls to replace all the internal pipes. Simple enough but it could be time consuming.

I'd fronted up nice and early, warned the owner he'd be without water for half the day, and got to work. Now the owner had assured me that the lack of water would not be a problem, mainly because he and his wife were going to work. It turns out he forgot to tell his daughter, Sally.

She knew I was there. No problems in that area. She just hadn't realised that there would be no water. With no school or work for that day she'd slept in and when she got up she wanted a shower. No water.

She wasn't dumb. She put 'no water' together with 'plumber' and knew I was to blame and came whining to me about needing water for a shower. I looked at her, sniffed rather obviously, and agreed that she needed a shower but the water had to stay off.

She gave me a furious look and stormed off. Ten minutes later she was back, whining that there was no water for coffee. She needed her coffee. I gave her directions to the nearest Starbucks and went on with my work.

She was back with another whining complaint a few minutes later. Why couldn't I just turn on the water for a few minutes. Ah, because it would come spurting out of this pipe I'm holding in my hand, making it hard for me to connect it.

"Just how old are you, kid?" I asked her.

Even though it was a warmish day she was wearing a sloppy tracksuit. She could have been Sally Slender or Sally Stout but the tracksuit effectively hid her from prying eyes.

"I'm not a kid and what difference does it make? I still need some water."

"Just curious," I told her. "Your face says maybe twenty, you whine like an irritating thirteen year old, and you dress like a sixteen year old who's just grown a pair and is embarrassed by them."

For some reason the observation seemed to displease her.

"I'm eighteen," she said slowly and carefully. "I do not whine like a thirteen year old and I am not ashamed or embarrassed by my body."

"If you say so. Now run along and don't ask about the water again. It will be ready when it's ready. Stopping to talk to you is not getting the job done. I'll tell you what. Annoy me again and I'll apply a little penalty to discourage you and give me some peace."

Ever noticed how some people just can't be told. Sally was back just ten minutes later, harping on about how time was passing and I hadn't finished. I turned and gave her a nasty look.

"I warned you," I observed. With that I took a step towards her, took a hold of her tracksuit pants and jerked them down. Just the tracksuit pants, nothing else. Sally gave a startled yelp, stepped backwards to get out of my reach, found the tracksuit tangling her legs, and sat on the floor with a bump. I took the chance to pull the tracksuit pants right off and toss them to one side.

"Now run along and don't bother me."

She bounced to her feet and went flouncing out of the room, leaving the tracksuit pants lying on the floor. Very nice legs she had, too, and a nice swish to her buttocks.

"Nice legs," I called after her but she appeared to ignore me.

And that, I thought, would be that, with no more interruptions. This shows you how well I understand the female mind.

I was lying on my back on the bathroom floor, head under the sink, connecting the new pipes to the taps. There was a nudge against my foot and Sally was saying, "Hey. How much longer? You've been at this for hours."

To add to my irritation, when I jumped from having my foot kicked I banged my head on the bottom of the sink. I was not in a happy mood when I extracted myself and turned to speak to her. I was, however, startled to find that she hadn't bothered to find another pair of trousers or whatever to put on. Her lovely long legs were bare from the ground to where they vanished under her tracksuit top, and that top just barely covered her panties.

"What part of 'stop interrupting me' do you fail to understand?" I asked. "The work will be finished when it's finished. Not before. Give me your top."

"What?"

"Your top. Give it to me. If you have to run around in bra and panties maybe you won't be so quick to hassle me. Now give."

I held out my hand, expecting her to beat a fast retreat. Instead of that she calmly peeled off her top and dropped it over my hand, turned and sauntered out, looking quite stunning in bra and panties. I just shook my head, tossed the top onto the sink and continued working.

The bathroom was the last of the connections and it didn't take me all that long to connect the new pipes. With that done I turned on the water and went around all connections to ensure that there were no leaks. Satisfied everything was water-tight I then turned on the taps to make sure the water was flowing and that the increase in water pressure wasn't causing any problems.

Everything was working fine so I packed up my tools and sat down in the kitchen to write out the account.

"Hey, kid," I called out. "Everything is done and you can have your shower."

"About time, too," said Sally, bustling into the kitchen, "and don't call me kid. I'm not a child."

I looked at her, standing there in bra and panties. Why the hell she hadn't bothered to put on a dress is far outside the workings of my male mind. Maybe she was showing she couldn't be intimidated. Maybe proving she wasn't embarrassed by her figure.

"You're right," I told her.

"I am? Ah, about what?"

"You're not a kid and you have nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about with a body like that. I'm going to enjoy seeing what you can do with it."

"Excuse me?" She sounded a little puzzled.

"Sally, you're standing in front of me in a tiny pair of panties and a bra that flaunts rather than conceals, and you damn well know how good you look. I'm quite sure you also know the affect you're having on me. Now be a good girl and take those things off."

"You have to be kidding. I'm not going to do that," she said, sounding genuinely appalled.

"You are. If you weren't intending for them to come off you'd have put on a dress or something. The reason you didn't was to see if I'd take them off you or what. The answer is what. I'm going to let you take them off and then I'll start appreciating your body."

"You've got tickets on yourself," she said scornfully. "You don't seriously think I'm going to let you touch me? You're an old man."

"Older, not old. Are you going to take them off or not?"

"Not!"

I shrugged. So she wanted to play games. I had her arm and turned her round, fingers flicking the bra catch apart. Turning her back to face me my hands dropped to her panties and started pushing them down.

"I said I'm not taking them off," she protested.

"I heard you. That's why I'm doing it, although I can't see why you have to be so prudish about it. There's nothing wrong with the woman taking off her own clothes."

I left her panties around her ankles, confident that she'd step out of them of her own accord. Standing I brushed her bra straps off her shoulders, helping them slide down her arms. She tried to take a step back, found the panties constricting her movements and shook them loose from one foot. By that time I was tossing her bra to one side.

"You had no right to do that," she snapped at me, although I noticed she wasn't trying to cover herself up. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

I turned a chair away from the kitchen table and sat, at the same time giving her arm a tug so she finished up sitting on my lap, an arm around her waist holding her there and a hand on her knee.

"Are you a virgin?" I asked.

"That's none of your damn business," she flared. "Let me up."

"It is my business," I contradicted. "If you're a virgin I'm going to have to toss you back as too small. If you're not a virgin I will proceed to discover the delights of your body. So, are you? I'll assume silence means that you are but too embarrassed to admit it."

Sally said a rude word. Under her breath but I still heard it.

"Alright, maybe I'm not exactly a virgin, but that doesn't mean you can do anything."

Bullshit, it didn't. I'd given her an easy out and she hadn't taken it. The hand on her knee started drifting along her leg while the hand at her waist moved up. My hand slipped over her breast, holding it, a thumb gently stroking the nipple. My other hand moved along her inside thigh, slowing due to the fact that her legs were together. A little gentle pressure and her legs drifted apart. Not far, but enough for my hand to slip higher and find the prize.

Sally was muttering and complaining but she wasn't resisting worth a damn. She squirmed about a little but by an odd coincidence each time she did so I was left in a better position to touch her. Of course, pressing her breasts and mound firmly against my hands might have been attempts to make me let go. If they were, they didn't work.

I did release her breast, tilting her back a bit, while I started probing between her lips, dipping deeper into her body. With her tilted back her breast were prominently raised, just begging to be tasted. Not wanting to disappoint I bent my head and tasted, savouring her breasts, licking and sucking lightly on her nipples.

Sally was still making little protests every so often but they seemed to be more from shock at what was happening to her. I mean, there is a big difference between, "Don't do that," when someone gropes at you and, "Ahh, no. Don't do that," being groaned when a thumb massages you right next to your clitoris.

Sally was flushed and breathing hard, nipples erect, pussy hot and wet. As far as I was concerned she was ready for me. I was damn well ready for her. The kitchen table was, in my opinion, the perfect height. I picked Sally up and sat her on the edge of it, thighs nicely parted.

I stood back a little so she could watch as I undid my trousers. Slipping out of them I could see her staring at me and eyeing what was on offer rather nervously. I moved closer, her eyes tracking me all the way. For this I wanted her to watch me take her, seeing my cock vanishing at the same time as she felt it moving inside her.

She gave a little gasp when the head of my cock first brushed against her lips, then she seemed to hold her breath as I pushed a little, her lips yielding to let me past. I started sliding deeper and she let out her breath with a whoosh, and started breathing more normally, even if a bit quickly. She was looking relieved and pleased and I wondered why for a moment.

It finally clicked. Her not exactly a virgin meant just that. I suspected she'd had one previous sexual experience and it had hurt. Now she was having another and there had been no pain. She cocked her head a little to the side as though concentrating, probably trying to understand just how she felt with a cock sliding in so smoothly. Her passage was tight, but well oiled, and I was having no trouble driving along it.

I finally hit home, holding myself there, my hands resting on her hips. She took a deep breath and looked at me.

"You're actually doing it," she said, sounding slightly amazed and, at the same time, highly pleased with herself.

"We're doing it," I told her. "You are part of this. Now why don't you put your legs around me? You can use them to help pull me in."

I started moving, not in a hurry, just letting her feel me moving inside her. Her legs came up and went around my waist but only seemed to have a tentative hold on me. I kept up the nice slow movement, encouraging her to move with me.

After a few false starts she was rocking against me, legs gripping more firmly, flexing them as I drove in. Now I started building the tempo, setting up a mutually enjoyable rhythm. Sally was giving voice now, surprise and delight sounding in her tones as she made little ah sounds as I thrust into her.

It was blatantly obvious that Sally's approval of what was happening was increasing with every stroke. She was straining hard to thrust herself against me as I drove in, wanting everything she could get. I held steady to the tempo I'd set, letting me prolong the encounter, ignoring the requests that were starting to come, asking for something more.

I fully intended to give her more, but I wanted my own pleasure to last for a while. So cock bouncing against her, hands playing with a pair of delightful breasts, I pleasured her, managing to keep her on tenterhooks, wanting that last little push.

I finally had to give that little push. She was so aroused, so passionate, that she was going to climax no matter what I did. Even withdrawing might not have stopped her. I gave her that little extra. Well, to be honest, I gave her everything I had as fast and as hard as possible, not so much easing her over the edge as picking her up and throwing her.

She climaxed silently, sitting there, shuddering, her mouth open and eyes wide, not understanding what was happening to her but letting it happen anyway. I contributed by having my own climax, adding that last little fillip to her pleasure.

She sagged forward, her head resting against my chest, totally relaxed.

"Ah, Sally," I said softly.

She still looked a little dazed as she looked at me.

"You can have your shower now. I didn't empty the hot water when I changed the pipes so it's still full of nice warm water."

"Oh, right, shower, yes," she mumbled.

I picked her up and placed her on her feet, pointed her towards the bathroom and gave her a friendly pat on the bottom. She wandered off in that direction. I went and finished packing my things in the truck.

Another job well done and another satisfied customer. Time for my next job.