The Cable Man Cums

The day hadn't been too bad for Lora, but her feet still ached a bit standing behind the teller window for six hours. As she came up the steps into her apartment, she kicked off her shoes and walked to the kitchen. She took a glass from the cabinet, and began to fix herself a gin and tonic. The first sip was so good she let out a nice sigh as it slid down her throat. She pulled her skirt up, and grabbed her slip, and pulled it down. Stepping out of it, she walked back into the living room and smiled as stepping out of the slip reminded her of the truck driver on the way home as she sat down in her lounge chair to enjoy her drink.

She was at the traffic light on Penn Ave., which, of course, was red. A truck was stopped at the light in the right hand lane, and she stopped next to it. The angle and height was just right, because when she looked over at the truck, the face of the driver was looking directly down through the window of her Taurus. She glanced down and saw that her white skirt was quite a way up her leg, and her slip was showing about two inches below the skirt. She couldn't believe it, but the driver winked at her. He was older than her, and looked a bit rough; but she chalked that up to truck driving. Older was good because he probably enjoyed looking at younger women. As she looked at him, she moved her right hand from the wheel and took hold of her slip and pushed it up until she felt the bottom of her panties on her fingers.

She wasn't sure if the truck driver's whole head was going to fall out of the window or just his eyeballs. She took the other hand from the wheel, and did the same thing on the other leg, so she was now sitting there with her skirt and slip just about all the way up, with only a bit of her blue panties showing right in her crotch. She could only see one of the driver's hands, and chuckled to herself imagining what the other was doing. Horns beeped, and she saw the light was green. Pulling her skirt and slip down, she accelerated through the intersection. Watching the truck in her mirrors, she could only imagine this man getting back to his depot and telling everybody, "Boy, you shoulda seen this hot chick. Goddamn, she pulled her skirt all the way up; I could see everything. Honest to Christ, I could guys." And they'd all laugh, and say "Yeah sure's" to him. But she knew it would give him thoughts that night, and his imagination would go from there and soon he'd be beating off with the image of her legs in his mind. That pleased her.

The doorbell interrupted her memory reverie. She set her drink down, and walked down the steps to her door, and looked through the peephole. She saw a middle aged man in a work uniform of some kind. Putting the chain on the door, she opened it.

"Yes?" she asked the man at the door.

"ATT Cable," he replied, holding up a photo ID card. She looked at the photo, read the name on it and the red script on white background on his shirt: both said Bill. She recognized the ATT logo on the sleeve of his uniform, and remembered that she had called a couple of days ago about poor reception. "I have a work order here for Lora Schiner," he continued, mangling the pronunciation of her last name

"Schoener," she corrected, and proceeded to open the door.

He was a handsome, early middle-aged man, carrying a toolbox. She led him up the stairs to the living room, stopped at the top and turned to him, pointing toward the TV in the corner of the room. As she faced him, he was still three steps behind her and his eyes were focused up her skirt until he saw her turn and point. She watched his eyes move and refocus on the TV. He passed her on the landing, and walked toward the TV. She noticed he had very little middle age spread, and a nice butt.

"There it is, and the picture isn't as good as it was a week ago," she explained, as he turned the set on.

The picture came on, snowy and fuzzy, the music of Brittany Spears playing on the VH1 channel she had on this morning.

"The VCR work ok, ma'am?" he asked her.

"Yes, fine. It's just the cable not the TV."

"OK. I'll check it out," he replied, as he turned the set off. Picking up her drink from the end table, she left him to it and went into the bedroom. She ran her brush through her long hair, and redid her lipstick, thinking this could be an interesting afternoon. Maybe it was the fresh memory of the truck driver incident, or maybe just having a stranger in her apartment who was doing a job, or maybe just opportunity. Whatever it was, she folded the top of her skirt under, which brought the length up another two inches but to the casual onlooker she would look no different, except showing more leg. She glanced out her bedroom door, and saw Bill stretched out half on his back on the floor with a light on the open TV back. She couldn't quite see his face, but she did look at his crotch opened with one leg on the floor and the other bent at the knee up in the air. She imagined.

Walking over unnoticed to the TV, she stood next to it, and made sure her legs were about 10" apart, not far enough to be obvious but far enough to be interesting, before she announced herself, "Find out what it is yet?"

Bill turned from the TV and looked up at her. From the floor standing there she looked almost 8' tall, of which at least 7' were legs. "Uh, not yet," he managed to say as his eyes moved up her legs, and up her skirt to see the blue panties the truck driver just had noticed.

"Do you think it's going to be hard to fix," she asked, not really caring, but wanting to stand there long enough for him to get a good eyeful and his hormones starting to flow. Getting a man interested was the toughest part. Once he was interested, the rest was easy.

"I don't think so, but I have to find out the problem," he didn't want to sound like he wasn't going to fix it. His mind raced as he tried to think of something else to talk about so she'd stay there and he could continue looking up her skirt. His involuntary nervous system was swinging into action as his brain recorded the sight of her legs, her full thighs and rounded hips; and the crotch of her panties and what it new was beneath the flimsy material. A short look would have been enjoyable; but the minute or so she had been standing there was long enough for his heart rate to increase without his control. That increased pumping of the blood through his system. It was finding a spot to go, and he felt himself getting hard. "But, I'm sure once I can get to trace the circuits, the problem will be easy to see."

Turning her right foot, the one closest to him, at an angle, her leg bent at the knee slightly, exposing more thighs to his view, as well as tightening the muscle of her leg slightly. "Good, it's annoying not to be able to watch a program. Oh, gosh! Where are my manners?" Holding out her glass a little she asked, "Would you like something to drink?"

"Thanks, but we're not allowed to drink on the job," he replied, his voice a bit throaty, and coughed slightly. She recognized the signs, and smiled to herself; she had stood there long enough for him to start responding. "I have iced tea," she offered, reveling at this captive audience which could not really make offers or advances without risking the job. "That'd be nice."

She went to the kitchen and fixed him a glass of iced tea. While out of sight, she removed her bra and put in on the bookshelf under the window. The blouse was not opaque, so he wouldn't notice it was missing. She unbuttoned the top button and hoped he'd been so focused on her legs he wouldn't notice that change. Walking back into the living room, she saw he was sitting up now, the flashlight on the floor. She picked up a coaster from the stack on the end table, and went over to him. Leaning over toward him, she felt the blouse fall forward a bit, and knew her preparation would pay off. "Here you go," she said as she handed him the glass of iced tea and watched his eyes move from her breasts to her hand as he took the glass, and then back to her exposed breasts down the front of her blouse. "And here's a coaster for the floor," as she squatted down, and placed it on the floor, giving him the 'double dose' of looking up her skirt and down her blouse in one look.

"Thanks," he said, and she noticed the glass was shaking a little, and she knew what he was feeling inside. "I hope you enjoy," she commented standing back up about a foot in front of him so he was still looking up at her, wondering if the double meaning would register. "I'm going to get out of these work clothes now, I've been in them long enough today," she said touching her blouse with one hand, being sure it was close to her breasts, "if you need anything, just holler."

"Will do," he responded in the typical short sentences of a man in some stage of sexual arousal.

Well, now, she thought to herself as she walked to the bedroom, he knows what I look like and he's interested. I know he's trying to figure out ways to get more looks, and even fantasizing either getting off watching me or doing me. Walking across the bedroom to her dresser, she continued to wonder what she wanted more, teasing him or fucking him. Hell, she decided, I'll keep teasing and maybe he'll get so horny he'll make the move. But the thinking and the teasing had begun to work on her, as well as it had on him. As she took her panties off, they were wet, and when she touched herself, she felt a shock wave course through her body. Or, maybe not wait for him to make the move, she giggled to herself as her hand stayed on her wet pussy, creating a stimulating sight for her in the mirror of her dresser.

Walking back across the bedroom toward the door, out of the corner of her eye in the full-length mirror by the bed she caught the image of the repairman laying on the floor behind the TV. She had never noticed you could see the TV through that mirror from the bedroom at just one angle. But, of course, she was always standing directly in front of it; and it probably was only the change to what the eye had seen a thousand times that brought it to her consciousness. There was always just a TV there; now there was a man lying down behind it. Her mind raced to the conclusion of a plan, and she continued to walk toward the door. Walking through the living room, she said, "Got you an iced tea, and forgot my drink," hoping he would poke his head up for more voyeurism.

He lifted his head behind the TV as she turned from the kitchen table drink in hand. "There is a short in this one connection here, I think that's what's doing it."

Oh my god, she thought; perfect. Instead of going right back into the bedroom, she went back over to the TV, and leaned over the side of it to where the flashlight pointed. Feigning looking at the TV, she was giving him another down the blouse look at her breasts, hanging just inches from him. She followed his hand where it was pointing in the TV, his words moving through her ears just as sounds. "Oh, is that a long job?" she asked, not knowing or caring what he was saying, only concentrating on his dilated eyes. She leaned back up, looked at the floor where the iced tea glass stood, and moving her legs apart a little commented, "Ops, better watch the tea," drawing his eyes to her legs and up her skirt again. Now, however, he didn't see blue panties, but a black mound and her wonderful slit.

"Here," he said, and reached for the glass moving it about 6" closer to the TV, but in the process his head went forward, so when he looked up it was almost a perfect view straight to her pussy.

"It's ok, I'll get out of the way," with a wave of her hand, knowing she had accomplished her purpose, and now he would watch her. She walked back into the bedroom and stopped at the spot she had noticed just a few minutes ago. Using her peripheral vision, she saw he was sitting by the TV, sipping the iced tea, having just watched her disappear through the bedroom door. She took off her blouse almost immediately to keep him glued to the mirror images. She succeeded, as she watched him, now a little bit closer, as she knew now that he would not be watching her eyes and might turn away so as to appear as if he weren't watching. He put his iced tea glass down, and rested his hand on the floor, now totally occupied with the half naked body he saw in the mirror. She reached behind her, unbuttoned the waist of her skirt, and let is slowly fall to the floor. She didn't want to be too obvious, but didn't really think it mattered much.

She knew she had him hooked. With the casual sideward glances at the mirror, she could see the effect she was having on him. His hand was trying to arrange things between his legs in a futile attempt to ease the cramped condition that only seemed to be getting worse. She kept her backside to the mirror, hoping he was enjoying the view, and also hoping it would make her game a little less obvious. The move was perfect. She was perfect - and good old Bill, wasn't looking too bad either. When she bent over to pick up the skirt from the floor, she could see his reaction in the mirror, and knew exactly what he was seeing. A nice tight ass, a little bush surrounding slightly wet lips, and soft tan breasts swaying as she reached down to pick up the skirt. Timing was everything. She knew she could delay just a little longer on the guise of the skirt slipping from her grasp. She could tell Bill was not missing a split second of the show. He was openly massaging a rather sizable bulge in his pants. She wondered just how excited she could get him, and already knew what her next move was going to be. Skirt in hand, she once again turned away from the mirror, and toward the closet.

She didn't really need anything from the top shelf, but she knew what a sight she presented when she stretched up on tiptoes and reached far over her head to get an imaginary item off of the top shelf. Well, a little side-glance at the mirror assured her that she was having the desired effect - Bill was now sliding his hand inside the waistband of his pants. Reaching into the closet, she pulled out one of her favorite outfits, a red silk wraparound dress, and began to slip it on, being careful to stay in line with the mirror. The dress fit just right, clinging lightly to the soft curves of her breasts. She lightly slid her right hand over her left breast, and could feel the hard, erect nipple against the sensitive palm of her hand. It seemed Bill was enjoying the show, because the hand he had slide down the front of his pants was doing a little moving of it's own. She had to push him just a little further to see how far he would go, and she knew just how to do it.

She loved the wraparound because of the access provided where the material stopped. She lifted the dress on one side to her waist, exposing her naked hip to the mirror under the guise of tying the belt the held the dress around her. It also let Bill know she had no panties on. She turned away from the mirror, and purposely bent over at the waist to select the shoes she would wear. She knew from experience that her cute ass cheeks were well reflected in the mirror. She parted her legs just a little, and took her time getting the shoes she would wear. She could peek through her legs, and even though everything was inverted, she could tell Bill was having a very hard time with the TV repairs. She took her time getting the shoes, slowly stood while still facing away from the mirror, and slipped into the shoes. Before turning around, she slid both hands to her backside, and smoothed the silk material over her ass cheeks. As she slowly began to turn and face the mirror again, her hands moved forward, and were soon resting, one on each thigh. As her hand moved upward, her head tipped back. Through lowered lashes she focused on the mirror. Bill was totally absorbed now.

At first she didn't understand why he choose this moment to change positions, but once he was repositioned behind the TV, she was pretty sure what he was up to. Most of his body was blocked from sight, but his head was still positioned such that he could see the bedroom mirror. Things were getting fixed there, but it was not going to help the reception on her TV. Now she had him where she wanted him. She purposely moved toward the mirror so he wouldn't have to wonder where she went, and then she continued out the bedroom door, and towards the TV. He hadn't expected this, and there was a flurry of movement when he realized she was coming his way. He had been flat on his back, and now lifted himself up on an elbow to give the appearance of working on the TV. The red dress was even shorter than the white one she wore to work, so there was no doubt he was treated to the same tantalizing view he had received before.

She walked up close enough to reach out and touch him. From this angle, she could see the length of his body, and she was pleased and impressed with the results of her handiwork. She just stood there for a few seconds without saying a word, and he was so transfixed on her not so hidden secrets, that he didn't say a word either. She broke the silence, and asked how it was looking. He had to swallow twice, and wet his lips before he was able to mutter that it looked beautiful. She had to suppress a laugh, because he had no idea whether or not she was talking about the TV repairs, or the treat she was presenting him. She said it looked like he had the right tool to finish the job. It was hard to tell if he understood her meaning or not, because he just nodded dumbly and mumbled something.

She asked if he wanted more iced tea, and he said he did, and handed her the glass. He watched as she walked into the kitchen, the dress not only shorter, but clung to her body and flowed in the air as she walked. He used the time she was gone to adjust his trousers and tuck his shirt in; the surprise of her coming over to him, and the strange mix of embarrassment and wondering, had reduced his hard on; his underwear, however, was still wet. He thought he noticed this time he looked up her skirt that her pussy was also wet, glistening slightly in the reflected light of his flashlight facing the back panel of the TV. He settled into his confusion of whether all this exhibitionism was intentional and for his benefit, or just a coincidence and she was really not conscious that he was watching or what he was doing.

As she dropped the ice cubes into the glass, she considered her options. She knew she could go back into the bedroom, and he would watch her and get off. That would be some fun, but more so if she could watch. But the angle was wrong, and he could be behind the TV, still see her while she could not watch him. Should she just seduce him more, and have sex with him? She poured the iced tea into the glass, and knew she had to do something, her ache wouldn't just go away now that she had started events moving.

"Here you go," she said as she came out of the kitchen. She put the glass on the end table by a chair, commenting, "You've been working on that for a while, take a break and sit down," as she nodded toward the table.

"Thanks," he replied, and pushed himself up from the floor with a little grunt. "Knees ain't what they used to be," he said with a slight chuckle.

"What is," Lora replied with a laugh of her own. She sat in the other chair, at a slight angle to the end table, and put her drink on it. "How long have you been doing this?" she asked, smiling to herself that even that could be taken two ways.

"I've been working on TV's most of my life," he tried to respond to the conversation without looking at her legs, all but the very top of them at her hips exposed. She didn't miss the movement of his eyes, however, and felt the urge between her crossed legs, and started to move her one leg over the other, creating pressure where she needed it. She watched as he talked about his career, sipped ice tea, every now and then moving slightly in the chair as his hard on returned. She draped her arm across the back of the chair, which pushed her breasts against the soft fabric so her hard nipples were almost completely visible, and her cleavage and top quarter of her breasts certainly were. She watched in total amusement as his eyes opened wider, and he shuffled in the chair. The conversation had stopped almost 30 seconds ago, as his focus was consumed by her body and she knew the longer he looked the less resistance he'd have for anything. She also enjoyed how he tried to look casual while his heart pounded and his bulge cried out for satisfaction. They sat there in silence, enthralled by the passion filling the room, neither knowing quite what to say or what action to take.