Edited by Windy Swimming
"Damn it, what's wrong with this TV?" She muttered as it wouldn't turn on, the third time this week. She tried the usual trick of rolling the batteries, and then finally gave in and got some fresh ones from the bedroom drawer, but they made no difference at all.
She checked the plug too, and put in a new fuse. Growing up with a handy dad and an older brother had its benefits sometimes. Still nothing from the TV, and it was a good night for TV too. Sod it, she thought and resigned herself to the laptop for the evening before a long soak in the bath with a trashy book.
The next morning she looked up a few TV repair companies, all wanted to get her to send them the TV, like that was going to happen. Then she remembered the guy from the next village. He was pretty good with electronics, but she couldn't for the life of her remember his name. Her friend would know, she knows everyone. So she dropped her a text to ask for his number.
"He's retired now, his son took over last year, here's his number," came the reply almost instantly ... "Thanks, I'll give him a call."
She rang the number but it went to voicemail. So rather than leave it and try someone else, she left a message, "Hi, I got your details from a friend of mine, I hope you can help. My TV won't switch on. Please call me back on this number when you get this message." She hoped that would be OK and not sound too needy or hopeless.
Later that afternoon he called back, he sounded a little nervous but had a nice voice and reassured her that he had some experience with TVs like hers. He could pop over in about an hour if that was OK. "Yeah, that will give me enough time to get home, so I'll see you later."
Work was piling up though, so it was later than she planned when she left the office. By the time she made it home he was already on her doorstep with his bike leaning against the side of the house. It was pretty obvious he looked after himself. "Bloody hell!" She said to herself as she got out of her car.
"Hi, come on in," she showed him to the living room with the black, lifeless screen which sat in the corner of the room. "It just won't switch on. I've checked the batteries and the fuse, nothing," she said, quite pleased she could demonstrate some level of troubleshooting. "Do you want something to drink?"
He turned and smiled, he was incredibly good looking, fit in every respect. She was suddenly aware of how horny she was, not having had sex for a while and hoped it didn't show.
"Just some water would be great, thanks," he said, still sounding a little nervous, maybe he doesn't really talk to many women ... he must, do, look at him ... her inner monologue taking over a little.
In no time at all he had the back off the TV and was looking over it with the expression of someone who knows what they are looking for. He pulled out a small soldering iron and a bag with something electrical looking, then replaced an identical one from inside the TV. Then he put the cover back on, and tested it. The TV came on instantly and he'd barely touched his water.
"Oh one other thing," she said, "the aerial lead keeps coming loose and I could really do with the cables sorting out too."
"No problem, let me do that now," he said.
His voice was so sexy, she couldn't resist having a little flirt with him. As the TV was on a shelf, he had to lie down to get under it to check and tidy the cables. So she decided to stand closer, her skirt short enough to give a decent view of her underwear should he look up. He glanced up to see her standing right beside him, and couldn't help but notice her legs, smooth, firm and long as his eyes drifted up and saw her underwear, just as she wanted him to.
He looked away, and tried to concentrate on the work he was doing, but she moved to stand over him "I just need to reach this thing over here," she said, not at all convincingly. He looked up and could see her underwear really clearly now, really small g-string, almost see through and just slightly wet, or was he imagining that?
She moved her legs apart a little more, and as she did so, caught him looking up her skirt, a faint smile across his face, she looked right at him "Do you like what you see?" She asked, her voice slightly husky.
"Errrm, yes, I mean sorry ... oh ...," he blushed and stuttered.
But she just smiled, "Good, I'm glad you do."
Now she was getting visibly wet. As she looked down, the thin cotton was practically invisible. His jeans were unable to hide his growing erection and he was feeling so horny now. She lifted her skirt and slid her hand between her thighs rubbing gently across her lips. While feeling how wet she was, she gasped a little and closed her eyes.
He couldn't believe what was happening here - this woman standing over him masturbating. Never in his wildest dreams did he think this kind of thing would ever happen to him. He moved his hand down to his crotch, only to adjust himself. His erection was pressing against his jeans and was getting rather uncomfortable.
But she flicked his hand away with her left foot "Uh uhh, no touching allowed!" She said, her voice now thick with lust.
She continued to slide her fingers across her soaking panties, dipping her nails inside just a little, flicking her clitoris which sent a wave of pleasure right through her.
He was so hard now, restrained in his jeans and begging to be able to release his throbbing penis. But each time he tried, she moved his hand away. Then she slowly knelt down, legs astride him, her hands on his chest, she moved herself so that her clit was now rubbing the bulge in his jeans, her eyes closed but her mouth slightly open, breathing harder and harder.
She reached her hand down, rubbed her nails up the inside of his thigh across his swollen crotch, teasing it by rubbing her nails along the zipper up and down. He was begging her now to stop the torment and release him from his jeans.
She slid her pussy across him first, pushing down so he could feel him parting her lips, even through his jeans. She slowly, one tooth at a time, unzipped his jeans. She had just got over half way when his cock sprang out, still covered by his boxer shorts, barely. She ran her fingers along his inner thigh and he thought he was going to cum just from that.