The Party.
Ms. Grey finally completed the purchase of the shop and the day she was to receive the keys happened to coincide with my 19th birthday. As a way of celebration, she had decided to throw a party. Existing and prospective new clients were to be invited, I should have been delighted that she thought highly enough of me, to throw such a bash, but in reality, the thought of it, filled me with dread. You see over the last few months, I realised, it was not my handyman skills the women were interested in, instead it was the tool in my trousers that got them excited. I am not bragging when I say "I have bedded most of my female clients." In fact, I had even enjoyed a 3some with Joanne and Becky, the twin lesbians. The thought of these women, all being in the same room, at the same time and their alcohol induced conversations, made my toes curl. Despite all my protestations, Ms. Grey pointed out that she was my employer and if I wished to remain within her group, I will be attending the evening.
So it was with some trepidation, that I entered he room that had been hired for the night, it was packed, most of the women I knew, but there were many others, I had yet to meet. Also what tickled me, was that many had brought their partners with them and quite openly introduced me as their prurient handyman, a term I did not understand, but a phrase that was repeated often that evening.
One woman, Jennifer, made a point of introducing me to her husband, saying,
"Darling, this is Shaun, the young man who has kept me off your back and me totally on mine"
What the fuck did she just say?
He held out his hand and when he shook mine held it in a grip so hard, it hurt.
"Well young man, all I have to say is, thank you, Jennifer has been nagging me for months to get the bed sorted. Nag, nag, nag. Now she leaves me alone."
Phew! I thought he knew about me and his wife.
"She is quite a moan bag, when she starts." He added
I knew damn well she was a moaner, especially when I was buried balls deep inside her.
Ms. Grey ushered me away and introduced me to a woman named Val, saying,
" I have promised her a slow dance with you later in the evening."
From experience, this was not a request but an order.
If I was to describe Val, the only words I could use was plain. Someone you would pass in the street without giving a second glance at. Mid to late forties, dyed brown hair, a pretty face but masked with large glasses. Her dress sense designed to hide whatever figure lay beneath.
"It will be my pleasure to escort you onto the dance floor" I replied.
The rest of the night I spent my time mingling with the assembled guests, I lost count how many times I had my bum squeezed, naughty words whispered in my ears, invitations to fuck.
Towards the end of the night, the lights dimmed and the music slowed. I was aware of what was expected of me, so I made my way over to Val, offering her my hand,
"My dance, I think." I said to her.
Grateful to my grandmother, whom thanks to my late grandfathers lack of interest, taught me to waltz, I was able to lead her adroitly around the floor. Step by step, we moved amongst the crowd, laughing as we bumped into others, less capable than ourselves. After a few track, the DJ changed the tempo, announcing the last few songs, would be slow and smoochy.
"Shall we sit down?" I asked.
Through the thick lenses of her glasses, she looked at me and whispered "Only if you want?"
Changing my hands from the classic hold, I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her close, body to body. Slow and sensual, we moved in unison, hips swaying. With my erection growing, I slipped my leg between hers, my fingers dancing up and down her back. I expected her to pull away but instead she entwined her fingers around the back of my neck, squashing herself against me, I could tell from the way they pushed into me, underneath that dowdy dress, Val had an impressive pair of tits. The way she was moving against me felt like Val was using my leg to stimulate her pussy and when I placed my hands on her arse a wry smile lit up her face before she huskily said,
"You certainly live up to your nickname."
"And what is that?" I enquired.
"The prurient handyman." She replied.
"Val, I have heard that term several times tonight, being honest, I haven't got a clue to what it means."
