Get It Girl

"So, what do you think it will cost?" I asked, chewing my lower lip nervously. I'm good at reading people's expressions, but her ass gave nothing away as she kneeled down in front of me, head under my kitchen sink.

"Eh, it's not too bad," Mia said, crawling backward and wiping her hands on her jeans. She stayed squatting down, peering over her right shoulder at me. She winked. My heart skipped. "It's just the one gasket, looks like. Should run under $45, provided I can get it off quickly." She winked at me again and sprang to her feet. Mia moved like a cat – quick, lithe, and sure. She strode past me, calling behind her that she was going to her truck to get her tools.

I took advantage of my alone time to text my bff, Amanda. "The plumber just winked at me. Twice."

"Ew. Tell him to eff off," her text came shooting back. I didn't have time to correct her before Mia came back in. Her arm brushed my side as she entered and a chill went shooting up my spine. It had been so long since I had been touched by a woman that any physical contact may have brought a nice sensation, but this woman was so hot. Her hair was short, a light brown – she wore it swept to the right side. She had just a hint of makeup and wore tight jeans with one hole mid-thigh that revealed an olive-colored thigh just begging to be licked.

Licked? I needed to get myself under control. This poor woman was trying to do her job and here I was, questioning her professionalism. A lot of people had a habit of winking; I'm sure I was nothing special. I tried to appear uninterested as Mia lay down on my floor on her back. I caught my eyes traveling up and down her body, spread out in front of me. I wanted my hands to be traveling up and down that soft body. I wanted to slide my finger up that hole on her thigh and see how far up my finger could travel. I wanted to climb on top of her and I wanted to unzip those tight jeans and I wanted...crap. I needed to get it together. I could feel myself getting wet.

"I'll be right back," I called, hustling out of there. She didn't answer. I went into the bathroom and unzipped. I didn't need to pee, but I could tell I was too wet to be able to fake calmness, and I didn't want to scare this girl off. She seemed super cool. I couldn't tell if she was a lesbian or not, but even if there was no romantic connection, she was the kind of girl I loved to hang out with.

But, "Please, let her be a lesbian," I whispered as I began to wipe my wetness – a little too long. My finger dipped past the tissue paper and touched wet skin. The memory of her plaid shirt came flashing back. She wore it with the top two buttons undone. I had caught a breath-taking glimpse of cleavage when she bent over to get her screwdriver – her breasts curved invitingly under that plaid shirt. I would love to see that shirt on my floor. My finger dove in a little deeper, sliding in so smoothly as I closed my eyes, imaging Mia's firm breasts exposed.

"Hey." She was right outside the bathroom door. Crap!

"One second!" I called cheerily, my voice two octaves higher than normal. My fingers came flying out of my dripping pussy. I hurriedly wiped my wet fingers on the hand towel, zipped up, and opened the door. Mia moved forward and casually leaned on the bathroom door frame, hands in her pockets. She ducked her head and grinned up at me with her perfect teeth and her soft lips that I need to taste.

"I'm done," she said.

"Already?" I was shocked and horrified. That stupid pipe had been dripping for months, and I had been changing out the little pot that caught the drips for months, and it had taken her five minutes to fix it? I silently cursed myself for wasting precious time in the bathroom feeling my own wetness when I could have been out there, trying to get to know her so maybe – just maybe – I could get to feel hers.

She seemed to sense something was wrong. She came closer without seeming to move. For one brief moment, she was right there. So close. All I had to do was reach out and touch her arm. The moment was gone as she walked past me to the bathroom sink, leaned over, and washed her own hands. As she dried her hands on the towel – the towel that I had just wiped my dripping fingers on, oops – she turned and looked at me.

"Is there anything else you need me to take care of before I go?" I couldn't read her expression, although she seemed to be teasing me. That was wishful thinking, I scolded myself.

"I am just so impressed with your work!" I babbled, "I thought it would take a lot longer. You're awesome." Too much, be cool. I could only hope she thought my comment was about her work, not about her as an awesome woman I wanted to see more of.

Mia laughed softly. Even her laugh was amazing – low, deep, and real. She ran a hand through her hair and, standing there with her other hand in that damn pocket, said even more softly than she had laughed: "There's nothing else around here that's wet?"

My breath stopped. She knew. Could she smell my pussy juices? I hadn't had time to clean myself off before she came to the bathroom door, and I thought I could smell myself. I didn't know what to say, but it turned out, I didn't have to say anything. With a movement so smooth, so natural that it seemed to just happen magically, Mia's hand was on my lower back, pulling me toward her.

Her body did not bend toward mine – she was letting me decide. Letting me make the choice to hold back or to give in to my growing desire.

Did I have a choice, really? My body chose for me, let itself be guided into her softness. I melted into her, my arms at my sides, my lower body forming to hers. Mia's arm tightened with me as I moved and she sighed softly as our breasts touched. My hand slid up from her back to her stomach to under her shirt to up to her breast – so inviting.

I wasn't brave enough to go under her bra, and she laughed again. Not at me, not meanly, just enjoying the moment. She leaned closer and whispered in my ear:

"Get it, girl."