Wendy was angry with herself for not dealing with the issue faster. The washing machine had broken down a week ago, and the repairman, a short, balding, smelly piece of useless manhood, was big on promises but delivered nothing apart from frustration and a broken washing machine. She now sat at the kitchen table with a glass of Chardonnay in a loose top and "daisy duke" type jean material shorts and little else as her underwear and a substantial part of her casual wear were waiting for a new washing machine delivery today.
Her husband was on business, so Wendy needed to handle this herself. Although entirely capable of handling the situation, she could have done with some TLC to offset the frustration of dealing with the useless repairman. Her frustration was not helped by the rough jean material tight in her crotch, the seam splitting her pussy, exposing her clit to the rough material and the constant pressure and rubbing whenever she moved.
Wendy reflected her tanned body and legs from the long hot summer and toned from swimming every day meant she always drew admiring glances, which made her horny. Her absent husband's cock was, on occasions, replaced by local college seniors who knew she was available and enjoyed her experience to bring them to climax over her body.
The wine, the absent husband's cock and the increased blood flow to her clit meant Wendy was beginning to feel the need to relieve herself. The doorbell broke that chain of thought. Flustered, Wendy got up and realised a small damp patch had appeared on the tight material between her legs. On opening the door, Wendy saw a vision, a tall, young, athletic black man with a clipboard asking a pleasantly surprised Wendy if she was expecting a delivery. Wendy gathered herself together enough to say yes and invited the man into her home. Before he stepped into the house, he turned and gave a thumbs-up to a colleague in the delivery van cab. The cab opened, and a second young, athletic black man jumped down. Both had front-zipped overalls on. The taller man had unzipped his overalls to the waist, revealing a toned torso. The 2nd man was shorter but had a thicker set; he was sweating slightly, and his overall was stuck to his back.
The one with the clipboard asked to see the location of the new appliance while his mate started unloading the machine from the van. Leading the young man through the house, Wendy could smell the sweet sweat coming from his body. The proximity of a young stud and the motion of walking in the tight shorts made her clit engorged. The jean material rubbed hard on her gash, making her damp patch bigger. Pointing to the existing machine, Wendy confirmed this was an extract for the old machine and installation of the new one.
The young man put the clipboard on the countertop, got on the floor, and looked behind the cupboards to confirm the plumbing. This action allowed Wendy to see his muscular back and arms and the outline of his arse in the tight material of his overalls. Turning to Wendy, the young man smiled as he caught Wendy staring at his arse. He noticed her nipples hard through the thin top.
Getting up from the floor, he accidentally brushed against Wendy's top, feeling her tits move as she had no bra on. Being a lot closer than necessary, the young worker pointed out a couple of places for her to sign, allowing Wendy a chance to glance down the front of the overalls and the outline of an impressive cock. Wendy leaned over the counter to read some of the small print. The young man leaned back and, looking at Wendy's arse, asked:
"Where was the man of the house?"
"Not at home," she replied.
From the doorway, a shout broke the moment, and the 2nd young man came into the kitchen room, no less impressive, a shorter stocker version of the first. His overalls were tighter on a more muscular frame. The crotch was tight and allowed the outline of a bulge of above-average proportions to be seen. Both men started to pull at the old washer and release the pipes and cables holding it in place. Picking up the washer between them, Wendy saw the guys' muscles flex, and beads of sweat appear on their backs.
Wendy's clit was on fire, and her gash had made a damp patch which was now clearly visible. She turned around and picked up her glass of wine, the other hand started to move the material away from her pussy, and she wiggled her arse to try and release some pressure from her clit. Emptying the glass in one.
Turning around, she dropped her glass. The taller delivery guy had come back in and was watching her. Apologising for startlingly her, he bent down on a knee to pick up the more significant pieces of glass. Telling him to stop, he insisted as he told her he liked the view from down here. Wendy blushed, knowing he could see her damp patch.
Making sure the glass pieces were retrieved, he placed them on the counter top as he did so, he lost balance, and his hand brushed against Wendy's crotch, sending a shock through her already engorged clit. Letting out a slight moan encouraged the guy to explore more. His hand rubbed along Wendy's crotch pulling apart her cunt lips and pushing the now large damp patch into the gorge of her pussy. His other hand reached up under her top and found a firm tit and nipple to squeeze and paw at under the loose top.
Finding compliance in Wendy's non-resistance, he undid the waist button of her shorts and tugged the skin-tight material down her legs to her ankles. Her cunt was exposed to his view, and she felt his hot breath on her vulva. Holding his head, she pulled it closer to her crotch. She relaxed her stance and pushed her cunt out into his face. His tongue flicked her clit.
