Handy
Sophia was handy at many things. Electronics, computers. Plumbing, wiring! Cars and TVs and appliances, every kind.
That's why they keep me around, she thought glumly as she fixed Bobbi's hair dryer for the upm-teenth time. Dropped in the toilet, again, wiring burned and fuse popped.
As she unwound the tiny motor on her bench, measured the wire gauge, counted the coils, she whistled tunelessly.
Honestly, this was where she liked to be, at her bench, some gadget spread out in pieces in front of her, tools all arranged just so.
As Bobbi's cries and moans got to their peak, about to cum from whatever that hunk was doing to her or in her, Sophia fished in a parts drawer for another miniature breaker. This one had been popped half a dozen times, she didn't trust it anymore. They built these things to the minimum tolerances; it was likely only meant to pop once. Why the motor burned this time.
She had one a little smaller, but the same rating. Cut the old one out of the circuit, tested her soldering iron, just right! Dabbed a little solder at exactly the right place in the joint, gauged the heat perfectly, and voila!
Now to repack the tiny motor casing with new coils. Then reassemble and test. It would work; they always worked the first time when Sophia fixed them.
She had just finished up as Bobbi finished up, her usual orgasm-rage-talk clear through the thin walls.
"Fucker! You're gonna cum in me! Bastard! Fucking slut-fucker whoremonger cuntdicker! Do it! Do it! Fill me you fucker! Breed me! Georgi! Georgi! Cum in me! I'm cumming! Eeeeee!"
Oops, that guy the other night had been Georgi. Probably wouldn't matter, men didn't get too fussy when Bobbi got naked and wet.
Bobbi was only five two but nearly that big around, her tits about as big as her head, same size as her hips. Add in jet-black hair, pouty little-girl face, that high-pitched voice that turned to a squeal every time she came, they forgave pretty much anything else she did.
Sophia got up, banged on her door, went in without waiting.
"Got your hair dryer fixed! I'll put it in the bathroom."
She'd wait forever if she wanted any consideration from her roommates. They ignored her for the most part, except to ask for something.
Bobbi made some muffled Fank Goo! sound as she mouthed her gigolo's cock, head-bobbing and slurping to clean him, licking up the side of his cock carefully, getting it all, swallowing his mess noisily.
Well, that was something, a Thank You anyway. She must want something else.
Pulling off with a schmuck! and wiping her mouth with the back of one hand, Bobbi hopped up, boobs bobbing wildly, fished around in the blankets, pulled out a nine-inch purple wand!
"Soph luv, it doesn't, you know, buzz! It just hums, won't get going, won't adjust! Thanks doll!" and she thrust it into Sophia's hands.
Whatever the whoremonger cuntdicker guy thought of all this, he didn't show any concern. Still red across his face, shoulders, eyes closed, his dick at half-mast, wet, content. Bobbi gave good service, whatever you might say about her pushy personality!
Like now, she just assumed Sophia had nothing better to do than fix her sex toy! Typical.
Well, to be honest, she didn't. And this was the new ThrillSeeker model, she hadn't opened one up before. Gonna be interesting!
...
Lunchtime found all the housemates in the kitchen, foraging. A rare event.
Sophia had left the ThrillSeeker in pieces, the little counterweight that swung on a cam and made it buzz! It was loose, needed a pin, didn't have the right size. Planning a visit to the hardware store after lunch.
Bobbi claimed to not be really hungry, just had cum for lunch! The others laughed politely. They all knew Bobbi was a cum-slut.
She poured a bowl of sugar-pebbles and emptied half the milk bottle into her bowl, began chowing down.
With her Hispanic figure, jet-black hair, figure wobbling wherever she went, she was a sight to behold. She had the bedroom downstairs, the basement really except the house was on a hill, it had a separate entrance to the back yard.
Sophia's shop was downstairs too. Really just an airless storeroom, no windows. Suited her.
Megan was building a sandwich, had covered half the counter with packages from the fridge. With rust-red hair, her true color, same as her bush and under her arm, she never shaved.
Finished her enormous ham and cheese off with mustard, pickles, three kinds of cheese, capers, mayo. Gotta try that, it looked good, be nice to have a bite but Megan would never share. She didn't share her master bedroom suite on the main level, the lease was in her name, she called all the shots, claimed all the perks for herself.
Then there was Trish. A willowy blond, she did some modeling, bra commercials, panty ads, condom ads. Usually late with her rent, spent it all on makeup and clothes, that car. Today eating some leftovers from a photoshoot, wild salmon over basmati rice, little buns with caviar, some prosecco.
Her waterbed nearly filled her bedroom, normally a guest room, a corner room overlooking the back yard, the side yard.
The neighbor's house had a clear view from upstairs. Mr. Woolbrush could often be seen admiring Trish as she lounged naked on her bed or entertaining some producer which meant screwing them until they passed out.
And Sophia, poor Sophia, plain brown hair, no makeup ever, not even blush. Skin a little mottled, some Portwine stain she'd had as an infant, imperfectly treated. Left her looking like a map of Venus.
Waist a little too large; boobs a little too small. Perky though, with puffy nipples sticking out nearly two inches, though nobody knew, nobody ever got to see them.
And a clit like a little cock! An inch or more all told. Complete with a fat head, like a cockhead but tiny. Felt like a freak, the other girls all had little nubs or pink pearls, not like hers at all, not like a miniature boy! She saw them often enough, they never used a bathrobe, walked around the house stark naked from the bath.
Sophia dressed in loose cotton work shirts, deliberately a size too large to disguise her figure. Wore baggy jean or even overalls. Sandals with wool socks. Her feet got cold in her room in the basement, sharing space with the water heater.
And those glasses! Thick black rims, the girls joked she got them from Svens House of Soviet Eyewear.
It wasn't true, they were just being mean. She got them mail-order from a place in India, a fraction of the price the local optometrist would charge. She just measured her prescription with her jury-rigged phoropter, you didn't need one of those enormous steel arrangement they used in the doctors' offices.
Sophia had a box of lenses, an old Victorian prescription set, got it at a yard sale, used for half a century by doctors everywhere, perfectly good. Made a binocular mount, just tried lenses in each eye until it looked good enough.
Sophia ate her wholegrain wheat bread and hummus sandwich, delicious but the other girls sniffed at it, called it her 'health pellet'. She retreated downstairs, ate alone at her bench.
The doorbell started ringing, folks started arriving. A party? Typical; they'd said nothing to her. Probably not welcome; certainly not invited.
It got noisy, laughing and talking, then doors slamming. Bobbi came downstairs, sounded like two sets of feet on the stairs, into her room and Slam.
Then it got quiet, real quiet.
Then it got loud again, this time yelling and squealing, some moaning.
They were screwing! All her roommates, all with boyfriends over, for sex. Maybe an orgy? Was it technically an orgy if they fucked in separate bedrooms?
Strike that; Megan was screwing two guys by the sound of it. Or a guy and a gal? Both voices pretty low, but some women had voices like that.
Bobbi's guy was pretty silent, just some mumbling then her headboard started thumping, right behind the wall to her lab, rattling her parts cabinet so the little drawers started to slide out.
She blushed, her breathing got heavy, she started salivating. Normal erotic stimulation response.
Nothing to do for it, but give in. She shucked out of her overalls, slid her cotton panties down to her knees, sat back down on her bench stool, cold against her naked butt.
Taking up her portable jigsaw, she dropped the blade out. Plugged it in, turned it on slow, carefully pressed the foot plate to her clit.
The reciprocal motor buzzed her junk better than those dildo wands ever could! Just touching, letting off, touching again, her breathing getting deeper, her tongue between her lips, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back.
Building, building, it was getting good. The voices around the house were intermittent, calls of encouragement, instructions to suck this or kiss that.
Almost there, almost...
