Idle Hands

Early evening with the sun still warm on the skin, a hot shower after a hard day's work, and the apartment to himself for the rest of the night to unwind in; Ben couldn’t ask for much more from life as he stood naked beneath the spray. With Adam out on a stag night, for which Ben couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the bridegroom, there was little chance of seeing his roommate again for at least twelve hours, possibly even a day or two, if they both had their own way.

A keen sense of hearing made Ben stick his head out of the shower, shaking the water from his ears and listening intently. The doorbell rang through the rooms as the caller again pressed the button, spurring Ben into action as he quickly rinsed the shampoo from his short hair and reached for the large white towel, wrapping it around his waist as he scampered out of the bathroom.

“Hello?”

Being faced with an empty corridor did little to help him relax as he dripped in the doorway, looking around the hall for signs of life.

“If this is you playing games, Adam, I’m not in the mood.”

“Sorry?”

Even if he’d been expecting an apology, it certainly wouldn’t have been carried by a woman’s voice, coming just as a head popped from around the corner

“Ms Murphy, sorry, I thought my roommate was messing around.”

“It’s Andrea, Ben, and I thought there was no-one in, but it looks like you were a bit busy.”

He felt as though the thick towel had been whipped away, leaving him as naked as a newborn babe in front of her, and a red one at that with the way his cheeks burned as he quickly was made aware of how exposed he was, and of how very little shielded Andrea from a stiffening vista that could see him carted off in handcuffs, in a way slightly more serious than Adam would have the groom in before too long.

“Is there something I can do for you, Andrea?” he asked, taking a firm grip of the top of his towel, willing to lose the feeling in his fingers before he’d let it slip an inch.

“My ceiling fan isn’t working, I called the company and they said someone would be round today, but no-one’s been.”

“Do you want me to take a look for you?”

“Would you? That’d be great. I wouldn’t normally like to ask, but I really could do with it tonight.”

“No problem, just let me finish up here and get some clothes on, and I’ll be right up.”

It was a relieved man who closed the door behind her, fairly certain that she’d not seen any hint of his arousal, though his embarrassment made a pretty convincing disguise. While Adam would’ve had no qualms about being in such a situation, even having once had the nerve to drunkenly proposition her at a new tenant’s housewarming a couple of years ago, Ben had never made light of how attractive he’d found their neighbor.

A good decade older than the two guys, Andrea could easily have passed for a sibling, the only give-away to her true age being the clothes she wore and the way she carried herself, possessing a style and elegance in both that could seldom be found in the women his roommate stumbled into the apartment with in the early hours of most weekends.

Living alone as she had for as long as he’d been residing below her, he’d spent most of his fantasies thinking about her; from her blonde hair falling across her shoulders against the silver silk blouse he’d once seen her wear, to the way the skirts of her smart suits would emphasize the shapely contours of her long legs. It’d been the rare occasions when he’d hear her faint moaning in the dead of night that left him sighing as he thought of her, the sound of her pleasuring herself making him wish he were the fingers or vibrator that played over her intimate parts.

Towel dried and clad in a shirt and pair of jeans that he hadn’t planned on wearing until the next morning, he knocked on Andrea’s door, letting himself in after hearing the muted sound of her telling him it was open from somewhere on the other side. The aroma of a cut of meat gently cooking away in the kitchen prickled at his nostrils, his eyes following its trail to see Andrea busy at the stove.

“Something smells good.”

“Thanks,” she replied, checking on the progress of her creation, “it’s lemon-glazed pork with ginger.”

“I’ll bet it tastes as mouth-watering as it sounds.”

“I hope so, I’ve got company coming over in a little while, and I really don’t want to have to send out for pizza.”

“There’s no chance of that happening, and I’ve tasted your cooking so I should know,” he said. “Now, where’s this fan that’s being a nuisance?”

“This way,” she said, leading him across the room, “in my bedroom.”

It had to be really, didn’t it, he thought as she told him how she’d gone to switch it on yesterday and nothing had happened, even going to the trouble of flicking the switch on and off in succession to demonstrate her predicament. No sooner had he recovered from being near naked in front of the woman, here she was stood beside him in her most personal, private chamber, the same chamber from which he’d heard her bring herself to orgasm.

“Um, was there any noise when you tried it, a crackle or a whine maybe?” he asked, more to hide his arousal at his wandering thoughts than to discover anything of use.

“No, nothing at all,” she said, before a look of horror covered her face. “Oh my God... wine. I knew there was something.”

He’d barely enough time to open his mouth to speak before she’d nipped out to the hall, grabbing her handbag as she reached the front door. She looked in at the ingredients simmering away gently, and had made sure she had her keys with her before turning back to him.

“I’ve just got to go out for a bit, I need to pick up some more booze. Don’t worry about the stove, it’ll be alright.”

“Won’t your guests be bringing a bottle?” he asked.

“Oh God, yes, but that’s not going to be nearly enough,” she said, as she hurried out the door, “You’ll be fine sorting that out won’t you?”

“Sure,” he replied, albeit to an empty apartment as the door clicked shut behind her.

He looked back at the fan, giving it the once over, then headed for the breaker box, finding it in the exact same spot the one downstairs was located in. As he’d suspected, the problem, and solution, was easier done than said, especially with a set of spare fuses sitting nicely beside the switch. In no time at all he was wandering back into her bedroom and watching the fan rotating noiselessly above the bed.

Feeling more than a little pleased with himself, he sat down at one end of the sofa in the living room, looking forward to the joy that would radiate from her face when she saw what he’d done. The smile on his lips lasted a good five minutes as he waited for her to return - loath to leave and miss her reaction as much as run the risk of her main course turning to charcoal - the corners of his mouth drooping with each passing minute after that.

It wasn’t long before he found himself fidgeting, continually glancing at his wrist where his watch would’ve been had he bothered putting it on, not helped by the way he felt time was passing quicker than it probably was. Deciding a distraction was needed, he left the relative comfort of the sofa and wandered over to the television, spotting a collection of DVDs stacked neatly beside it. A browse at the titles on the spines was like a who’s who of film noir; classics with a sprinkling of more obscure names that Ben could barely pronounce, and probably used subtitles, all topped with ‘The Big Sleep’ sat slightly askew on top, the case left open with the disc missing from inside.

A look around the room brought the window to his attention, making him curious of whether the view was much different from the one from their apartment. Perhaps unsurprisingly, there was little difference; the same buildings blocked the sunlight for the best part of the day, and the place wasn’t quite high enough to see over the smaller of them and out across town, though he noted that she did have a couple of pretty looking plants sat on the window ledges.

Reasoning that it’d be no surprise to Andrea to find him in her room, he let himself back in, leaving only a small gap as he closed the door behind him. There was little of actual interest lying about in the room which, in spite of its attractiveness, appeared more practical than actually lived-in. A dream-catcher on the wall above the bed and throw cushions resting against the pillows, small picture frames with photos of people he didn’t know, and an assortment of beauty products organized before a mirror were the highlights. None of which seemed to matter that much as he soaked up the thrill of just being where everything he’d heard, had happened.

He walked over to a set of wooden drawers, bending to smell the pot-pourri in a small basket that sat on a lace cloth on top of them. If there was a scent coming from there it must’ve been too weak for his nostrils, he thought, only then realizing his palms were resting on the handles of the top drawer. The idea of just having a quick peek inside raised its head, and, after he looked guiltily back at the door to see no-one was stood watching, was acted upon as he gave into the temptation, though he would hardly have needed an invitation had he known what was within beforehand.

The drawer slid effortlessly out, revealing row after row of immaculately folded clothes. His jaw dropped open as he saw them, the word ‘jackpot’ springing to mind - and sounding as if spoken by Adam as he thought it - at the sight of the underwear laid out before him. Eager eyes ran over each item as he stood there, not having had such a sight of silks and lace since locking himself in his room with one of his mother’s shopping catalogs, many moons ago.

He stroked the delicate material with his fingers, the tips sliding across as though they were skating on ice. Holding the lacy cups of a fragile looking bra between his fingers and thumb, he marvelled at how transparent it was in places, the way it would tease with glimpses of skin between the feminine patterns marking it. Taking in the various styles and shades, pastels and prints alike, he set eyes on a pair of French knickers that summed up, in his mind at least, everything that aroused him about their owner.

So taken by the garment was he, that he felt compelled to bring it out into the light for a better look. Holding them up by his fingertips as gently as possible, he gazed in awe at the satin as it rippled in his grasp, shimmering in the sunlight reflected off the windows of the buildings opposite. The color of the panties threw up a contradiction, the pale shade as cool as ice, yet the lilac hue bringing a warmth that sat alongside the cold, complementing rather than cancelling it out.

Turning them over in his palms, he stroked across the white lace inserts that formed the sides, the insides of which Andrea’s hips would’ve been pressed against as they hugged her skin. His fingers traced the matching lace edging as it wound its way along the hem, his hand arriving back at the gusset as it came full circle. With a nervous glance to the door, he lifted the panties to his face, bringing them close enough to his nose that they almost touched as he breathed deeply in.

He hadn’t expected anything other than the fragrance of Andrea’s fabric softener, and used his imagination to surmise the scent her most intimate place would leave as they were cast aside after a days wearing. The guilty pleasure had worked its magic on his crotch, the stiffening of his cock making things uncomfortable as it grew awkwardly in his jeans.

Both his hands were needed to rearrange his package to a more agreeable position, and the resulting sight of the underwear inches away from his groin gave him thoughts that he would’ve believed forbidden only hours earlier. He unzipped himself, taking down his pants to the middle of his thighs, spreading them enough to hold the waistband from falling all the way down. Putting his hand inside the panties, letting the satin spread over his palm, he gingerly took hold of his cock, revelling in the cool sensation against his heat.

Slipping over his skin with ease, Ben took care not to grip himself too tightly, the fear of staining the underwear lingering in the back of his mind. The pleasure he felt was absolute as he let his eyes flutter closed against the downdraft from the fan, conjuring images of Andrea on the bed beside him, stimulating herself through the very item wrapped around his fist.

“Sorry I took so long, did you-- Benjamin!”

His brief lapse had come at the worst possible moment, giving Andrea a perfect view of him in profile, getting sordid with her unmentionables. The look of shock on his face had matched her own, before she looked away to the dresser and he desperately tried to pull his jeans back up. His cock was still sticking obscenely out as she strode from the doorway towards him.

“I-I’m so, so sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

She appeared to pay no attention to his hurried apologies, grabbing something he couldn’t quite see from the dresser, before taking him by his, empty, hand and directing him to the bed. He was too busy concentrating on keeping his balance as his pants fell around his ankles, to protest at being manhandled the way he was, barely getting a word out as Andrea sat herself down on the edge of the bed, still holding onto him.

With a swift jerk of her arm, she pulled him down over her lap, putting an elbow across his back to keep him there. His erection mirrored his thoughts, barely knowing whether it was coming or going, his horror at being caught in such a situation making it lose some of its former potency, while being pressed against Andrea’s thighs was almost enough to have him shoot his load there and then.

“I’m sorry to have to do this, Ben, but I can’t very well have you getting away with doing such a thing.”

He twisted his head around to see over his shoulder just in time to see her raise her arm, a black hairbrush held in her hand with the bristles facing in the opposite direction. Her hand came swiftly down, landing the lacquered wood on the fleshiest part of his bare ass, leaving a light pink mark almost immediately. He’d no sooner yelped out loud when the pain came again, a little lower this time, yet still bringing the same stinging sensation.

Squirming over her lap, he tried to get free, only finding more of her weight pressing down on his back. One of her legs came behind his own, pushing down on the back of his knees to control his struggling feet, before another blow hit his backside, its intensity and her resolve seeming to grow the more he tried to wriggle away.

Counting the strokes wasn’t at the forefront of his mind as he laid there, the ache in both his cheeks certainly felt like it’d reached double figures before Andrea finally stopped, releasing him from her hold and letting him struggle to his feet. She placed the brush down beside her on the bed and turned to look up at him, a look of expectancy on her face.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked.

“Oh. Sorry,” he said in a daze as he bent down to grab hold of his pants.

“No, not that. Shouldn’t you be finishing something off?”

He paused, frowning as he tried to fathom out her meaning, getting more confused the harder he thought.

“But, I’ve fixed the fan for you.”

“I did notice. Which is why I’m willing to let you continue from where you left off when I came in.”

She nodded towards the garment he still held in his hand, with his gaze following a moment later. His cheeks blushed furiously, almost matching the shade sported by the ones he wouldn’t be sitting on for a while, as the penny dropped.

“I can’t...”

“You seemed to manage well enough earlier.”

“I know, but I couldn’t... not in front of you.”

“Don’t be silly, I insist. Look at it as a thank you for being such a good neighbor and helping me out,” she said, not taking no for an answer. “Now, you can start just as soon as you’re ready.”

Swallowing hard, he tentatively dabbed at his cock, painfully aware how less than impressive it looked when soft. He looked at Andrea, who simply pointed his attention back to the task in hand with a swift nod of her head before staring at his groin for signs of life. She wasn’t to be disappointed as his cock betrayed his embarrassment, stirring from its apathy to rise up in an arc until it stiffened against his stomach.

An admiring smile found its way onto Andrea’s lips as she watched, encouraging Ben to be a little firmer in his motion, sweeping along his length from balls to tip with the soft satin covering his hand like a glove. His pace increased as he watched her, spotting subtle changes happening. Her breath, while still quite slower than his, seemed to quicken, a tiny gasp escaping as the first spots of semen emerged from his cock.

Her fingers were unconsciously stroking the exposed skin where her blouse had been undone, slipping inside on occasion, as she herself squirmed in her seat on the bed. He looked over her thighs as her skirt rode up, her stocking tops showing slightly beneath it, to the curves of her breasts and up to the Cupid’s bow shape of her lips, glistening as she ran her tongue over them.

The sight of her arousal quickened his excitement, speeding the rhythm of his strokes, making his grip tighten in all the places that made the ache in his loins want to burst loose, taking with it all the tension that was building up inside. The intensity of her gaze matched the fire in his balls as they welled up tight, ready to gush forth at any moment, just wanting one more hard jerk to set them loose.

His climax came as a near violent release, spasm following spasm as he shot his thick, sticky mess into Andrea’s panties, soaking the shiny satin where her pussy would normally lie. Massaging the last drops from the tip of his cock, he could feel his legs fight to hold him up, the exertion taking its toll as he began to notice the muscles of his thighs and forearm throbbing at the strain put on them.

“Show me,” Andrea said as their eyes met again.

Removing the underwear from his cock, a small trail of cum stretching visibly between the two, he opened them to let her see the mess he’d made. She got to her feet, readjusting her dress and walked over to him, a wry smile on her lips.

“Very nice. I expect you to have them dry cleaned and back to me in the condition you found them in by the weekend,” she said, walking past him and out of the room.

He pulled his jeans up and fastened them as best he could with a pair of soiled panties in his hand, trotting out after her still fiddling with his zip. She was almost at the front door as he reached her, the door opening as he tried to speak, her arm around his shoulder, guiding him out, interrupting his attempt.

“Thanks for helping me out, Ben. I’ll be seeing you soon, now that I know how handy you are, I’m sure I can find some other things that need fixing.”

“Uh, okay?” he murmured, slowly regaining use of his tongue.

“I’ll just have to make sure I’m around to watch you work next time,” she added with a wink. “You might want to hide those somewhere...”

She closed the door as he glanced down at the panties, looking around shamefaced, hoping no-one else would see. He scrunched them up and slipped them in his pocket, checking he’d not left anything of either it or himself hanging out, as the sound of a bottle of wine being opened could just be heard through the door; a small hint of reality capping an unreal experience that left him smiling broadly as he started off back down the stairs.

~ The End ~