Checking Her Plumbing

I saw him watch as I unfolded my legs for the hundredth time. The plumber could see straight under the table and up my skirt from where he lay on his belly, with his arm wrenched up under my kitchen sink. He'd thought it would be another routine house call, he made them day in and day out. He found out fast that this was a different scenario. Not many of the house wives he rescued with his wrench were this hot. My shoulder length wild curls of chestnut brown bounced around my face. My lips were sticky sweet, slicked with some kind of sparkly gloss he couldn't resist imagining on his tongue. And then there was the outfit. I had chosen a slinky tunic dress with long sleeves, and a pair of black stiletto Mary-Janes. The neck line on this thing was cut down precisely in the middle of both my breasts.

He wasn't your average plumber, either though. He was bic-bald, his face angular and rugged, with a clean shave. His body was trim and tapered perfectly. The service uniform he wore fit him like a dream, and in this dream he had a backside any housewife would have drooled over. The wrench fell out of his hand as my skirt hiked, revealing the lack of underwear I had chosen that day. His slip caused the elbow of the pipe to pull free, dumping sludge down his arm and neck as he craned to see me better. I jumped up as he did, and walked over to him. He was hastily trying to keep the sink-goo from going down the collar of his shirt to no avail. I began pushing past his frenzied motions and unbuttoning his shirt. The name tag over his left peck said "Chris".

"Calm down, we'll just toss this in the wash. You can grab a shower quick before you get back to the sink, as long as you don't charge me for the extra time." I said. He looked down at me, my face was a hair's breadth from his, my lips pouting slightly as I undid the last button of his shirt. The black sludge, presumably what had been blocking my drain, had gone through his uniform and spotted the white tank he wore underneath. I tugged that out of his pants as he stood mutely watching my hands in disbelief as I undressed him as deftly as I would myself. I turned and walked into the laundry room between the kitchen and mudroom, throwing his shirts into the yawning maw of the washer and starting the load with the aid of some detergent.

Returning to the kitchen, I urged him to follow me to the bathroom upstairs, as the downstairs bathroom was "being renovated." In reality, the first floor bathroom was intact and spotless, as it always was. However, I knew that my boyfriend would be home any moment, and that if he heard the upstairs shower going, he'd come in to join me. A giddy smile curled the corners of my mouth as I showed Chris into the bathroom. I grabbed several towels and wash cloths, showing him to where John's toiletries were on the shelves. I left, or pretended to, leaving the door propped open a crack as I walked out. I listened to the rustling as his pants hit the floor, his boxers not far behind. I peeked in, watching him step away from the pile of clothes and into the shower. Waiting until his back was turned, I pulled my dress up over my head and left it to hang over the stair rail to entice my boyfriend into further investigating.

I made my way silently in through the door, leaving it cracked slightly as I walked over the tiles as softly as I could. I stepped out of my stilettos next to the pile of Chris' clothes and walked to the shower, wrapping my fingers around the handle on the sliding glass door. I could smell my boyfriend's body wash as Chris scrubbed himself down. He jolted around in shock when I slid the glass door open, and stepped into the shower with him. His eyes were big and round as silver dollars, and they were the slate gray of a storm churned ocean wave. I stepped toward him, and he retreated backward. The closer I moved, the further he tried to get, until his back bumped up against the dark blue tiled shower wall. I planted my hands on the wall on either side of his torso, pressing myself against him and batting my lashes up at him. He caught his lower lip with his teeth, and ground out an oath as he tried to look at anything but me.

"Your husband made the service call ma'am. I could get fired for sleeping with a client's wife." He cleared his throat again uncomfortably, but his body would not yield to the halt his mind was trying to issue. His cock stiffened against my smooth belly, hardening between our slick bodies.

"Lucky for you, he's not my husband. I've never been married." I replied with a devilish grin. I rolled my hips forward, putting more pressure from our bodies on his hardening cock. He stifled a groan and reluctantly looked down into my face. I leaned in, nipping his neck as my hands slid inward on the cool tiles to rest on his sides. My body dropped lower, my mouth making a hasty path to follow the straying rivulets of water. The air was getting heavy, pressing against us like velvet as I made my way down his hard body, my tongue catching drops of water as I went, my breasts sliding down his body, enveloping his hardon before I got down on my knees. I looked up at him, licking my lips with anticipation.

I wrapped my hand firmly around his dick. It was big, probably 7 or 8 inches and thick. I grinned, pleased by this, as I leaned in and lapped at the head of his cock. His hips bucked involuntarily at that first contact before my lips closed around his swollen cock head, My mouth, hot and eager, pulled at him, sliding him deeper and deeper, my tongue cradling the underside of his cock, stroking, pulling him deeper into my throat with each bob of my head. I looked up at him, catching his eye as I sank his full length into my open, pouting lips, holding his gaze as I relaxed my throat and took him to the balls. He gasped, grinding his hips forward until my nose was pressed into the soft skin above his pubic bone. He ground out a string of words as he wrapped his fingers in the dripping ends of my hair.

He cradled the back of my head and reveled in the feeling another moment before he reached down and hauled me to my feet. Spinning me around, he pressed me against the glass door, my breasts flattened against the slick, water dotted surface. He reached between my thighs, petting my swollen pussy lips, tracing the edges of my slit with his warm, thick fingers. He parted me, grazing my throbbing clit as he stepped closer, bringing his body up against my back. I felt his cock, hard and hot, press against my mound from behind me, eager and ready. He guided himself up and forward with his hand and hips, sliding into my slick interior. As he began to thrust, digging his fingers into the flesh of my curvaceous hips, I heard the front door shut.

Chris was so overtaken by his ministrations that he didn't notice the sound of the door, or the musical jingle of car keys as they hit the hall table. The footsteps on the stairs pounded in my ears as I waited for my boyfriend to find us, but Chris didn't even slow down. I heard the foot falls halt, and in my mind I saw John running his hand down my dress which lay draped, gossamer and forgotten, over the railing. I saw him before Chris did as he peered through the opening I had left. His face was bright, delighted at what he suspected was awaiting him.

When he took in what was happening, his face changed from anticipation to delight. His jaw dropped, his eyes jumping open until his eyebrows looked like they may fly off his forehead. I must have made quite a sight, my 40D breasts pressed like two alabaster globes against the steamed glass, my nipples flattened and rubbing against the glass. Streaks from my fingers scarred the fog marred surface between him and I as the stranger in our home continued to piston in and out of my sex. I looked John in the eye as a slow grin spread across his face as he realized his voyeuristic fantasies of watching me were finally coming true.

We both knew he wouldn't just stand there watching for long, but at that moment he was content to watch another man's heavy balls swing between my spread thighs as he took me from behind. I watched John's hand drop to his crotch, cupping his already rock hard shaft. He stepped toward me, pushing the door open. Chris looked up, his body slamming against mine as he came to a stand-still. Both men looked at each other with curiosity before John dropped his zipper, pulling his cock out of his pants and giving a long, slow stroke. I flung the door open, a blast of cold air assaulting my exposed front. John undressed hastily, dumping his clothes next to Chris' pants and shoes.

He stopped in front of me, kissing me deeply, cupping my shoulders and pushing me back into Chris so that my pussy was filled with him. John walked forward, shutting the sliding door behind him and pushing my shoulders down so that I was bent toward him at my waist. Both men could see over me into one another's faces now. I took John in my mouth as Chris resumed his reaming of my wanton pussy. I moaned, having both ends of me stuffed pleasantly full.

I slurped and licked at John, bouncing back against Chris's thick prick all the while. John raised his hand and brought it down hard, the sharp, resounding 'slap' noise cracked off the tile walls around us as I moaned like a cheap whore. Chris groaned, feeling something in the recesses of his guy stir with primal lust at hearing me delight in having my ass spanked. John hummed his approval, spanking me again as he thrust forward into my waiting mouth. He reached under me, scooping up my heavy tits and testing their weight in his warm palms. He circled his thumbs around my nipples, pinching them gently before squeezing my tits together. Suddenly, John grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to stand upright. I felt Chris lose his positioning and fall out of me, leaving me feeling empty and craving more. John turned me around and grabbed the ample mounds of flesh that constituted my backside. He spread my cheeks wide, and nuzzling my neck as he did so, slipped gently passed the entrance of my tight, puckered asshole.

He slid himself in me, balls deep, before reaching down and grabbing me under my knees, hoisting me until I was supported only by his loving arms and his thrusting cock. Chris looked at my body, splayed before him in naked splendor. He fisted his cock in his hand and stepped toward us. Placing one hand under my leg to help John steady me, Chris dipped at the knees, thrusting forward until he drove himself home in my pussy. They stretched me, two twin throbbing dicks, making me feel tight and breathless. I could feel them rubbing against one another, separated by a thin membrane of my inner flesh as they pumped in and out of me, making me cry out unabashedly. Chris reached between us with one hand and began to run his thumb over the hood of my clit in deep, quick circles. I could feel the tight, tense coils of sensation in the pit of my stomach begin to fray and unfurl. It was a liquid hot feeling of me peeling apart, coming undone from the inside out. I felt my tiny, swollen bud give a jerk under his thumb, and then I was over the edge. Free falling into ecstasy, I felt my pussy contract, tight and hard as a fist, opening and closing to grip and release Chris' still ramming rod. My ass hole pulsed, taking languid tugs at Johns cock as he filled me from behind.

Chris followed me first, a guttural oath rending his lips as I felt molten ropes of his seed splash inside of me, spreading warmth through me, his cock twitching hard over and over as he ground into me, filling me. John gave a few more rapid thrusts before he too, gave in to the call of sensation and he hammered into me one last time, erupting like some long agitated volcano. He came endlessly, my ass filling with his love in copious spouts as he growled lovely, filthy words into my hair. His hands were circled tight behind my knees, clenching and flexing with the animalistic urges coursing from his body into mine in liquid jets.

They set me gentle on my feet, supporting me between the two of them for a moment before John bent me over. They watched as the evidence of their lust trickled slowly out of my body, gleaming and winding its way down my thighs, mingling with droplets of water, swirling around toes dotted with perfect plum toe-nails, and diving down the drain. Chris stepped back, opening the shower door and stepping out.

"Your drain will take a while to put back together. My hours are over for the day. I'll have to come back tomorrow." He smiled at both of us as he began to dress. That's where he left us for the night, tangled together in the heavy, humid air, loving each other under the pounding of warm water and full hearts.