by Jason Lenov
“Uh…sure.” His reaction shocked me.
And a moment later two figures darkened the crack I was staring through, on their way to the kitchen. The first was Becky. The second was the stout outline of a youngish man. I couldn’t see his face but I could tell by his frame the sort of guy he’d once been.
Athletic, if a little bit stocky. A few years of no exercise had padded his musculature with a thin layer of fat. He wore a ball cap. His jeans hung precariously low on his waist, enough to reveal the first inkling of an ass crack his shirt didn’t quite cover.
Becky reached into the cupboard. Glasses clinked as she selected one, then bent over the tap to fill it with water. She bent unnecessarily far forward, causing her shirt to ride up and reveal just a hint of her ass cheek.
The guy’s chin dipped as he checked out the view. He took off his cap and wiped the sweat off his forehead with his other hand.
Becky spun around and offered him the glass.
He took it. His nails were neatly trimmed, fingers thick from working with his hands. “Thanks,” he muttered before taking a big gulp of water.
“No problem!” Becky chirped. She scratched the back of her neck, staring at him as he drank.
The guy finished off half the glass and set it on the table next to him. Rubbing his jaw he glanced down at the ground. “Well, I should probably go take a look. Bathroom upstairs?”
“Yup. Here I’ll take you up.” She flashed a bashful smile as she squeezed between him and the table.
The guy didn’t budge. I swear he sniffed the air as she pressed by him.
My cock lurched in my pants.
Once again as Becky passed the door she glanced at me with one eye raised, as if to say “I told you so.”
The plumber turned to follow her up the stairs.
An electric shock jarred me as he walked by the door. He looked straight at me and for a moment I thought I’d been discovered. When he reached out I nearly fell down the stairs. The door slammed shut right in front of my face.
My heart was still racing when I realized the guy must have shared my compulsive impulse to close doors that had been left slightly ajar. When I heard them mount the steps I put a sweaty hand on the knob, twisted it ever so gently and eased the door open a crack. I held my breath.
Low voices and giggling drifted down from upstairs.
I listened intently for any sounds that might indicate what was happening. It all seemed pretty run of the mill. Plumber climbing into the tub, then back out. Water running as he tested the taps. The pressure changing in the pipes as he tried the diverter. More muttering.
Then Becky’s light footsteps on the stairs followed by creaking as the heavy plumber followed her down. She sauntered into the kitchen a moment later, positioning herself at the island in the center of the kitchen. Perfectly aligned with my sight line. “So?” Becky asked with an exaggeratedly quizzical expression.
“Well,” the plumber said and removed his cap again. “We’re going to have to take out that valve.”
Becky nodded as if this was the most interesting piece of information she’d heard in her life.
“Gonna need a tile guy to cut out the wall. Then I can come back and do the job. Then the tile guy’s going to have to come back and redo your tile.”
Becky nodded again. A silence followed.
Mr. Plumber wiped his brow again. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “Whole job will probably be about five hundred bucks without the tile. Gonna have to ask the tile guy about that.”
Becky donned a puzzled expression. “Oh,” she said her eyes focusing on some point far off in the distance, as if the decision require a great amount of concentration. “I guess I’ll have to talk to my husband about that.”
Grunt.
For the most part I was fixated on her face. She was playing the part of porn princess perfectly but in the most believable way. The dialogue flowed nicely. Nothing was stilted. She seemed as talented at acting out the role as she was at identifying rare birds. It was a beautiful thing to witness.
Every so often I would steal a glance at her bare legs and her toes, painted a deep shade of red. No doubt the plumber was doing the same. I waited to see if Becky’s powers of persuasion were as convincing as she seemed to believe.
“Well,” the plumber said after another lengthy silence, “it’s gonna be fifty bucks for the visit. If you decide to use me I can take that off the bill.”
The words “decide to use me” sent a delicious shiver racing down my spine.
Becky frowned and looked very confused. “Oh, I didn’t know there’d be a charge today. My husband didn’t leave the check book and sock drawer’s empty.”
A tightness wormed into my stomach as I recalled her saying those exact words when we’d had sex, fantasizing about this very moment. Would he take the bait? Would she let him? Every muscle in my body felt flexed.
“Uh…” the man grunted. He rubbed his neck.
Becky’s lips parted and her eyes opened a little wider as if she’d just had an idea. “Could I pay you some other way?” she said softly.
More silence. More tension, so thick and heady I could practically smell it.
“Um, other way?” the plumber muttered.
Becky’s hand fell to the end of her shirt. She twisted a bit of fabric between her thumb and her finger, drawing the plumber’s attention to her midriff.
His gaze fell and he swallowed so loudly even I could hear it.
When Becky lifted her shirt ever so slightly I stopped breathing. There, beneath the yellowing fabric I could make out the first tendrils of her wiry pubes. My vision narrowed and my heart skipped a beat.
The plumber stood with his hat in hand, staring at the spot Becky had revealed. The hat covered his crotch and what surely must have been the bulge of his cock in his jeans. He was mesmerized by the situation, completely under Becky’s spell.
Becky stretched out the tension to such a degree I thought that reality itself might snap in two. Just before it did she took a step forward and leaned in, her lips close to his cheek. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “My husband won’t mind.” Her eyes darted to the crack in the door and our gazes met.
It was the most filthily delicious thing I’d ever seen.
The plumber sucked in a breath and took a step back.
Becky eyed him with an innocent but very pointed stare.
“Lady are you fucking crazy?” he said, his voice tight.
In that moment I thought that she’d lost him. It seemed like he’d come to his senses and I’ll admit a certain relief filled me because of it. Partly because this was all a little crazy. But mostly because I found the idea that Becky might be so adept at using her sexuality she could lure a stranger, a man who understood the risks such a proposition entailed in the year twenty-nineteen, into herself, utterly terrifying.
Then, just as I thought that the whole situation was going to come crashing down into a fiery heap and we would be searching for another plumber, Becky made her last play. Turning around on her toes she took two steps toward the island and leaned over it. Not a word spoken. Not another glance. A quiet invitation to the man now standing behind her to make of the situation what he would and act on it. Or leave. The decision was his.
Chapter Nine
His hands balled to fists. He squeezed the mesh of his ball cap, eyeing the faint patch of fur peeking out from beneath Becky’s shirt, weighing his options, wrestling with his will and surely wondering if he was dreaming.
A thought flashed through my mind. Did plumbers watch porn and fantasize about this very thing happening to them?
Seconds ticked by. Then a minute.
One part of me was rooting for the plumber, willing him to be master of his own domain, to refuse this lewd proposal that might ruin his life if it took a wrong turn down the line.
I’d be lying, however, if I said the other part of me wasn’t cheering for Becky. And, I guess, for me. Her performance
deserved an award it had been so convincing. She’d hooked and snared him, pulled him in and now all she had to do was haul him out of the murky waters of his resolve and into her net.
I didn’t know which I wanted more but when the results came in I nearly whooped and punched a fist in the air.
The plumber took a shaky step forward.
Becky didn’t react. Just stared straight ahead as if nothing could have been more normal than offering her body as payment for this man’s services.
His pants fell to the floor, the buckle of his belt clanging as it hit the tile. He peeled his underwear half-way down his thighs to reveal a slightly hairy ass. His cock sprang out and bounced. It was thick just like him, a coke can of a thing. Not long but not stubby, either. He gripped it with one hand and raised the other to bring it hovering over Becky’s hip.
He kept it there in the air for a few seconds. As if he were scared that if he actually touched her she might vanish and he would wake up from his dream with his dick in his hand. Then his muscled paw fell on her shirt and pushed it up revealing Becky’s sticky, dripping cunt. He let out a groan at the sight.
I nearly echoed the sound. I had to put a hand over my mouth to stifle a grunt. Reaching into my own pants I grabbed my cock and choked it with my fist.
The plumber’s ass flexed. His hips jutted forward and my vision once again tunnelled as the head of his prick kissed Becky’s sweet flower.
Becky simply stood there, legs parted, expression as vacant as when she’d been contemplating the plumbing decision. A doll that had no qualms about selling her sex to pay for her shower being fixed.
The plumber shuddered at the feeling of Becky’s wetness. I’m pretty sure I heard the last strand of his will-power snap. Lurching forward he drove his muscle into her core, groaning as her pussy slurped him in.
He grabbed Becky’s waist with both hands and began drilling.
I started to pump my own cock but realized I was so close to release I needed to stop. I desperately wanted to save myself for Becky.
The plumber stared at his cock disappearing into Becky’s tight hole. Grunting with each thrust he plowed into her causing her tits to sway and slap against each other. His ass flexed with each jerking grind into her pussy.
I couldn’t really accept what I was seeing. My Becky, my profane professor calmly receiving a man inside herself while her husband watched. She may as well have been admiring her fingernails.
The plumber grunted more loudly. His eyes went wide, still staring at the pussy he was filling. When he lifted a hand and tried to yank himself out to finish, Becky’s reaction was instant.
Instead of letting him go her hand shot back to his thigh. She touched him lightly on the leg, then tilted her head toward her shoulder. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “You can finish in me.”
The words, spoken as calmly as if she were ordering a drink, sent lust and horror screwing down through me. It settled between my legs, tightening my cock further.
The guy threw his head back and roared as he speared her one final time.
I couldn’t see the root of his muscle but I did see his sack lift between his legs. My breath caught in my chest as I watched it rising and falling, charging his vas with seed and sending it hurtling into Becky’s tight chasm. I was beside myself.
As his climax released him his hands fell from Becky’s waist. He staggered back, his limp cock flopping out of her and slapping wetly against his thigh. His face was red and his eyes were wide open. They fell to the deliciously depraved sight of Becky’s furry peach, the lips split slightly, his creamy deposit trickling from them.
Becky glanced over her shoulder again. Their eyes met for a moment. His embarrassment, or something, must have got the better of him because he quickly looked away, bent over and scooped up his pants and underwear. He did them up, buckled his belt in silence, then swept his ball cap up off the floor.
Becky reached back and covered her ass with her shirt. She turned around, cheeks a little flushed, and bit her lip as she stared at the still panting plumber. “So when do you think you can do the job?” she asked softly.
He put a fist over his mouth and cleared his throat with a phlegmy cough. “Uh…later this week, probably. You want me to call the tile guy for you?” he asked.
“Oh that’d be great,” Becky replied, nodding.
They shared another awkward silence before plumber replaced his cap on his head. “I should, uh, probably go then.”
Becky nodded. “Yeah. You should.”
And that was that. He shuffled across the floor and a moment later I heard him step into his boots, pick up his tool bag and walk out the door.
Becky stood as still as a statue in the center of the kitchen.
My head began to spin. The world seemed to tilt a little. The light coming through the windows seemed to bend a different way. I can’t say how long I stood there staring at my wife. I can say the way I looked at her had changed.
With that profane act she’d stepped outside the circle we’d drawn around our marriage. I had no choice but to follow. It was strangely…liberating. I finally managed to push the door open and stepped out onto the kitchen floor.
A slow smile crawled across Becky’s lips as she turned to face me, disrupting her stoic pose. She sauntered forward, hips swaying in a most alluring way until she came to a stop an inch in front of me. She put both hands on my chest and rubbed them down toward my stomach. Reaching lower with one hand, she cupped the outline of my cock in my jeans. “What next?” she whispered.
A panoply of possibilities yawned open at her question. What to do? What I wanted most was to press myself into her. Bend her over the table and fuck all the emotion that was raging inside me out of my cock and into her hot pussy.
That in itself only hardened me more. To think that I would be entering her sacred space, now defiled by this stranger. Would I feel his emission leaking out of her? Would reclaiming her in that way sate the hungry lust was roaring through me? “You…you let him fuck you,” I whispered, my voice tinged with disbelief.
Becky gave a single nod and smiled again. “I did. Did you like it?”
I nodded back. “I…I did.”
Her smile widened. “Did you love it, Jeff?” she asked.
“I did.”
I had. I couldn’t explain why but it had possibly been the hottest thing I’d ever seen. No porn could compare to watching it take place in real life.
“Are you going to fuck me?” she asked with a coy smile.
My eyes fell to the hem of her shirt. To where I knew a part of him still swam inside her. It was almost too much to take in. I looked up to meet her gaze. “He’s still in you.”
A moment of hesitation. Another lip bite. “He is.” A pause. “It’s so dirty, isn’t it?”
It was so very dirty and yet somehow so very appealing. I could barely move just thinking about it.
Becky reached out and took my hand in hers. Holding it, she walked backwards toward the table. To my shock and delight, she wiggled her ass up onto it, then lifted one foot and rested it on a chair, exposing herself.
I gasped at the sight of flecks of his seed clinging to her pussy hairs. As she opened her legs wider more dribbled out, clinging to her pussy lips for a moment before falling on the tile with a soft splat.
“Come on baby,” Becky said. “I miss you.”
I didn’t even undo my belt. Just shoved my pants down along with my underwear. My cock bounced out like a springboard, throbbing an angry red. I couldn’t stop staring at it even as I pressed it against her slit and worked the head into her tight pink.
She put a hand on my neck. “Oh god, Jeff,” she moaned. “This is so filthy!”
Hobbling a step closer I drove my whole shaft into her until I felt my balls slap against her ass. A thick gush of the plumber’s seed seeped from her, displaced by my own member.
Her pussy squeezed. “Fuck me. Fuck me baby!” she whispered into my ear.
My h
ips began thrusting, sawing my cock in and out of her clenching pussy. I groaned as the engine driving my lust, the memory of her dalliance with a stranger, sped me toward takeoff.
“Just like that. Just like that!” Becky yelled.
As I closed my eyes it seemed that we both rose up off the floor, out of the kitchen to become suspended in space save for our sexes grinding together.
Becky squeezed me as she started to come.
The sensation flipped a switch and I gave in to my bliss.
The climax propelled us higher, a mewling, moaning twist of joined flesh. Fingers of pleasure tickled the base of my brain. Becky held herself close the whole time moaning “yes! Yes! Yes!”
It felt like it might never end. But it did. The engine began to sputter. The wings of the thing we’d been riding fell, tired and spent. We hurtled back down toward the earth, back to reality, back to a life now changed.
Back in the kitchen I opened my eyes and looked into Becky’s. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes glassy, limbs sagging, exhausted from our shared climax. Taking a step back caused my cock to fall out of her.
This drew from her not a trickle but a river of seed. Mine and his. I stared slack-jawed at the sight, as awed and perturbed as I’d ever been.
Becky giggled and pressed a hand to her forehead. “Holy fuck,” she muttered. “I need a fucking smoke.”
It was typical but all the more jarring for the state I was in. My instincts took hold and as Becky pawed through a drawer searching for a pack of stale cigarettes I wrestled with my need to pry from her exactly what she’d felt. To know whether she was as moved and disturbed by what had just happened as I was. If she wasn’t what did that mean? “Becky? Beck?”
“Hm?” she said, the sound lilting from her lips.
“Are you…okay?”
She paused her search, looked up sideways at me and tilted her head. “I’m fine. Are you?”
Dear god. I was absolutely not okay. I was terrified. I was rabid. I was as charged as a Tesla and yet incredibly calm. “You just…”