Computer Service

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Sarah offers an alternative computer service payment plan.
4.9k words
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21

Part 1 of the 5 part series

Updated 09/28/2022
Created 12/31/2011
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"Good morning, Computer Service, may I help you?"

"Yes, I think I've got a virus on my computer," said a lovely, sweet, female voice with just a touch of Southern lilt.

"Okay, would you like to bring it in or have someone come look at it?"

"I, ah, I really don't want to bring it in."

"Where are you located?"

"In town actually, about a mile from your shop, according to the phone book."

"Well," I said, checking the shop schedule. "I can get someone over tomorrow afternoon."

There was a pause.

"Um, is there, ah, any way I can get someone today? It's kind of important."

Now, I've been running my business for long enough that I no longer work in it. I've got techs working for me, and my job is to stay in the office and run the business. But I'm a sucker for women in distress, and this woman had just the right tone in her voice. She wasn't whining and sounded like she really needed help, and I was in the business of helping.

"Well, okay, I can make some room in my schedule after lunch... say, around one. Is that okay?"

With a huge sigh of relief, she said, "That would be wonderful. I can't thank you enough."

I've never met this woman and have no idea what she looks like or who she is, but that last phrase still sent a few thoughts spinning off in my mind. Okay, it had been a while for me, and a woman with a voice like that saying she could not thank me enough -- it only made me think of ways that she could, in fact, accomplish that.

Jeez, and that was just the voice.

I got her address, phone number, and the rest of the information I needed, and then went back to running my business. Oh yeah, and the name: Sarah. I loved the way she said that.

My name is Mark. I'm a pretty average thirty-seven year old, in good shape for having little time to work on it. The long hair I wear in a ponytail most of the time is a reflection of my childhood with certifiably hippy parents. I've been wrapped up in my computer service business for the past eight years, and am just now to the point that I feel like it is on cruise. I've got a couple of techs, and we all make enough to live on. My marriage fell apart in the process of building my business, and sad to say, I hardly noticed. But now that the biz is running smoothly, I've raised my head and I see that my life is not exactly balanced. So I'm working on it. Working on doing something, anything other than work.

****

Sarah's house was in a nice neighborhood -- not wealthy, but not low rent. It was like most of our customers: middle to upper middle class -- comfortable, not rich.

I rang the doorbell. The woman who fit that sweet voice opened the door and she was gorgeous. She had black hair hanging loosely below her shoulders, was average height and slim, but for the right places. As usual I tried to take in what I could while maintaining eye contact, introducing myself, and giving her my card. Even that was not easy, as she had the most startling pale blue eyes.

It is important, doing what we do, going into people's houses, to be professional and safe. About half of our calls during the day are women by themselves and there is a practiced way to present oneself as a safe person. I'm good at it and have received a warm smile for my troubles.

"Thank you for coming today. It means a lot to me," she said flashing a beautiful smile again.

I'm a sucker for smiles, too.

"I'm glad I could make it."

"The computer is in here," she said leading me into a room in the back of the house.

Following her, I could get in a little more visual information without appearing to be too wolfish. She was, in a word, sexy. And it was without really trying -- subtle. She wore a pastel blue summer dress that gently swished as she glided down the hallway: conservative. She certainly had the attributes to have some serious cleavage, but the top of the dress was high enough to block all but a hint of what was there. And as I walked behind her, I was intoxicated by the gentle scent of musk. I knew it: Cinnabar, my favorite. And she was bare footed. For some reason that struck me as even sexier. Okay, the whole damn package was intoxicating. I had to give myself a mental slap to get back on track with why I was there.

The house was comfortable with warm colors. Lived in, but not messy. Quiet. It didn't seem like anyone else was home. The computer room was large enough to have a couch, TV cabinet, desk and computer. A fairly recent Dell was below the desk, which was nice. One real annoyance for any onsite computer tech is to work on a really old, really slow PC. It happens a lot and the waiting can be excruciating, even if paid by the hour.

I gave her the contract we always use to sign: on-site initial cost ($92 for the first hour), customer, not my company, is responsible for the data, and so on. She signed without reading it. So far she had not addressed cost at all. That frequently happens. People just want to get things fixed, and think that a couple of hundred dollars for a house call that gets them going again on their computer is reasonable, which it is.

I sat down. Here's the part when you learn what kind of customer you are really dealing with. There are basically two types: the hovering customer who will take up residence on your shoulder, and the abandoning customer who leaves the room and lets the tech do the work. Generally, I favor the latter, as do all techs (much like the mechanic sign: $40 per hour, $50 if you watch, $60 if you help). But this time I was kind of hoping for the former. I got a hybrid.

"Do you want some water or maybe a Coke?"

I always say yes. It is a funny thing but accepting such offerings helps the customer relax.

"Water would be great."

And she disappeared out of the room in a swish of skirt that again threatened to pull me away from my mission.

I turned on the computer and watched the boot up process. It took a while and once it was complete, I could see why. There is a class of malware called a "Rogue antivirus." In simple terms, it is a way for the far eastern European gangs to extort money from people who don't understand what they are seeing. An application pops up and purports to be some antivirus program scanning your computer. The names and features change every few weeks but it is always something like "Windows Security Suite 2012," or a similar sounding important name. That is what she had here. "Windows 7 Home Security Tool" was staring me right in the face. There is no such valid software. It wanted her to send in some money to clean all the malware that it has supposedly found, all the while opening the door for even more malware.

The whole thing is pretty damn insidious. My plan in situations like this is to take one shot at cleaning them and, when that fails to complete the job, as it usually does, back up the PC and reload it. Cleaning malware can take hours and days and is just too costly. Backup and reload is quick and cost controlled at under $200.

So, I loaded my virus killing tools from my flash drive and went to work. As always, it was a few clicks and lots of waiting for processes to complete. Normally I really don't like to just sit and wait, but the whole skirt swishing thing and scent of musk somehow helped me overcome that annoyance.

"Your water," she said in that soft flowing voice.

"Thank you," I said.

She moved up next to me. Her hip was around my shoulder level and her hand on the chair behind me. I began explaining the situation to her and as she asked questions or made comments, she moved her hip and kind of leaned against me just a little sometimes. Her hand occasionally touched my shoulder lightly as she talked as if to emphasize a point. I couldn't really tell if there was something going on intentionally, or if it was just accidental contact. But the contact was somewhat distracting. Okay, the contact was really distracting. My reaction was fortunately under the keyboard tray, as it was becoming somewhat prominent.

It seemed to me that we were talking in a very tactile language and the meaning was becoming increasingly clear to me. I responded to the pressure of her hip kind of leaning into her as I explained what we were looking at and gave my spiel on malware. Then wrapped it up with the bad news.

"Okay, the front end of the call is $92 for the first hour but it is looking like this is a longer haul. I'm not going to be able to clean this in an hour, probably not two or three. The best course of action will be to take it back to the shop, back it up and reload it. The cost for that is $199. Then there is a pickup/delivery fee of $50. I should be able to get you all done for around $250, plus tax."

She sighed and sagged a bit at the news.

"I don't have the money to get this fixed right now but I really need it working," she said anxiously. "My money is tied up in a probate situation. I have enough to live on but I'm running short right now."

"Well, it is going to take some time and a couple of hundred dollars. There are not a lot of choices here. I could take it back with me and we could go ahead and start. Then you could pick it up when you have the money. Or we could deliver it back for another $50. But I can't do it for free."

I was starting to get a little annoyed. I mean, really, calling a service company out when you can't pay? It does happen and is always annoying.

"Isn't there something we could work out?" she said, really not whining, but speaking softly, as if she didn't want the walls to hear, and looking me straight in the eyes.

For some people, that sentence could have meant a number of things: payment plan, work on it and I'll get it next paycheck. We get them all. But from a gorgeous woman whose hip was somewhat insistently pressing against my shoulder, and whose hand was lightly stroking the back of my neck, there was little doubt about the payment plan she had in mind. Somehow I didn't mind.

"Of course, there are always alternatives," I said gently with a very genuine smile. I dropped my left hand down next to the chair and the back of it was brushing her bare calf.

Her response clinched the deal.

She more purposefully stroked the side of my neck. Her voice had a smile in it and was getting just a little more sultry, "Good. I like alternatives."

There are lots of things I like about sex, but this moment is, in my opinion, the best: all of the potential and possibilities, all of the nerve endings firing off at the same time, everything sensitive to the touch, blood flowing all over the place.

"So you've got a backup drive attached here and it looks like it has plenty of room. I'm not going to be able to reload this entirely today but I can back it up here, take the PC with me and bring it back tomorrow."

As I said this, I turned my hand and gently ran my nails up and down the inside of her firm calf muscle. They felt like runner's legs firm and smooth.

"Would that be okay? Would finishing tomorrow be okay?" I asked.

What I was doing with my hand was obviously having some effect, as there was a delay before she murmured "Mmmmm... that would be fine."

I looked up to see her head tilted back and her eyes closed. She was still stroking my neck and the side of my face, which had suddenly become an erogenous zone. I kept my hand gliding slowly up and down the inside of her leg. It was smooth and firm and warm, and the heat seemed to be drawing me further upward. I was stroking up and down the inside of her knee now moving ever so slowly up and up. I could feel the heat increasing as my hand moved between her thighs. I heard a sharp intake of breath from her. Softly I caressed the more tender skin until I grazed the center of her panties. She moaned and I stroked my knuckles back and forth between her legs. The feeling was electric and even more so when I felt moisture on my fingers. She was already wet. She moved her leg out a bit giving me more access and it took advantage of it. Using my fingertips I softly scraped across the gusset of her panties, outlining the lips of her pussy and stroking back and forth, feeling them become wetter and more swollen as I stroked their outline. I followed her slit to the top where I could feel the bump that was her clitoris. She jumped at the contact and then stared leaning forward into my finger pushing down hard. I slowly returned back down stroking the tender skin along the sides of her panties teasing her but not going under, leaving that for later. I then retreated back to her legs, finally removing my hand and returning it to the keyboard then softly, almost in a whisper, said, "Let me kick off a backup here and we can continue discussing your alternatives."

"I'd like that. What if I provided a down payment while you are doing that?" she asked, her voice now husky. She lowered herself gracefully to the floor next to my chair.

On her knees she swiveled my chair towards her and slid her hands up the inside of my legs until she came to the now unmasked hardness in my lap. This became the center of her attention, as it did mine. I had pretty much lost any focus on the computer as she massaged my dick through my pants. She massaged it while looking me in the eyes. It was an incredibly erotic sight.

"Well, I guess, that would be appropriate," I managed, little more than a dry rasp.

Then her hands slid up to unbuckle my belt and unzip my pants.

She reached in and pulled me out and spent some time again massaging the shaft, but now with nothing between her lovely soft hands and its very sensitive surface. Her hands were small and seemed to fit just perfectly with both of them working their way up and down. The ecstasy she was creating increased significantly as she bent forward, lowered her head, licked the slit at the end of my cock which was leaking some pre-cum.

"Mmmmmm... tasty." she said and then took me into her mouth.

It was like one of those magnificent images in my head. Her long shiny black hair cascaded down across my legs as her head lowered on my cock. And she took her time going down and returning to the top. Then she began licking me all over like a lolly pop.

Suddenly she stopped, lifted her head, looked me in the eyes and said, "Weren't you going to do something about backups?" The evil grin she flashed almost made me laugh out loud.

"Right."

I returned as much attention to the computer as I could borrow from my crotch, and went back to backing up her data. Meanwhile, she returned all of her attention to her job. And a diligent little cock sucker she was.

Two near miracles occurred at the same time. First, I managed to kick off a backup that would ensure all of her data was secure. Second, I did not come. Not for lack of trying on her part as she slowly, sinuously, slid up and down on my shaft ensuring that she gave every single nerve ending sufficient attention on each pass. I had shivers running up and down my back; it was so sexy.

Once I had the backups running, I could pay complete attention to this raven-haired beauty. I reached down and gently lifted her head up. She stood slowly then moved forward lifting the hem of her dress so that she could put a leg on either side of mine.

As she glided forward, surrounding my legs with hers, I could think of little but how wonderful chairs without arms were.

She moved up closer, raised her dress and lowered herself gracefully onto my lap, the juncture of her legs nestled against my now incredibly hard, hot and wet cock. The slight roughness of her panties was stimulating in an entirely new way, after the softness of her hands and mouth. And having her so close was intoxicating.

In the back of my mind, I had been wondering how this would work. I mean, I didn't spend a lot of time thinking about it or, in fact, thinking at all while she was running her tongue up and down my cock but there were a couple of brain cells firing off and they wondered if this was going to be a kind of zipless fuck, just ripping around and poking in the right places or if it was going to be a little more intimate.

That particular question was definitely answered when she leaned forward, enveloped me in a black cave of hair and kissed me just so softly, then with increasing intensity until neither one of us could breathe. We were definitely going for intimate. I had not noticed just how luscious her lips were. Well, the ones I could see at the moment. The others were probably just as luscious, and I anticipated finding out shortly. I was not in a hurry to move on, so we had another go at the kissing with some serious tongue warfare, and now she was grinding -- in a very lady-like way, of course -- her crotch into mine and it was mind blowing and I was going to come if we did not shift gears.

So I pulled back and kissed my way down her neck while reaching behind and unzipping the top part of her dress. She sat up some and the top of her dress fell forward and a lovely sheer, lacy, black bra appeared. Her breasts were damn near perfect for me. Not huge, but full with hardened nipples straining against the front of the lace. I licked them through the fabric and they became even harder eliciting a moan from her. I bit down gently on first one then moved to the other creating another more intense moan. But I had to get to the soft skin beneath the sheer bra.

I reached around, this time managing to unclasp the bra without too much of the usual male bra clasp fumbling. And her nipples seemed to tighten up even more as the cooler air hit them. I gently lifted one breast to my mouth, licked, then sucked on a nipple. Her reaction was immediate. She stiffened, grabbed the back of my head and encouraged me to invest more intensity into my nipple sucking. I obliged, all the while playing with the other nipple squeezing and rolling it until I felt like it was time to even things up and I switched sides. This side was apparently even more effective. She began to moan and make inarticulate sounds that convinced me I was on the right track. She was again grinding on my cock with increasingly rapid movements until it became apparent she was on the tracks and the train was moving fast.

"Mmmmmmm.... ahggg!! Aaaaaahhhhh!!"

She tensed and went rigid in orgasm, as the sounds increased in pitch and intensity to a near scream. She then collapsed on me and I could feel that her panties had gone from damp to drenched, and my cock was slipping back and forth on them. After a few moments that slippery sensation gave me the idea that I'd like to move onto another phase, so I nudged her back some and she slid off of my lap. That motion was pretty nice in itself since much of her weight had been on my cock and she just slipped down.

"That was amazing," she said, standing there with her dress half off. "It has been a long time since I had an orgasm just with my breasts being sucked."

"Suppose we can find another orgasm or two if we look really hard?" I asked with a smile.

She kind of purred, reached behind herself, undid the rest of her dress, and dropped it. All that was left was matching black panties, equally lacy and sheer. Black on black as I saw she had plenty of hair between her legs, and it was as jet black as that on her head.

I took off my shoes and socks, stood up and took off the rest of my clothes, wanting to be on equal footing. She took off her panties and walked up to me face-to-face, body-to-body and kissed me fiercely. We fit perfectly; she was maybe an inch shorter than I. My cock was flat against her belly and her breasts were pressing into me. Our lips met and we just stayed like that for what seemed like a long while.

I pressed her towards the couch, "Let's see what we can find."

She sat down as I kneeled between her legs and kissed my way down her body, across her flat tummy to that dark thatch of hair between them.

There are few things that taste as good to me as the juices of a woman who has just had an orgasm and this was no exception. Her lips were swollen and wet and I just wanted to consume them. But thinking that they might be a bit sensitive still I went slowly, licking around the inner sides of her legs in that very sensitive part near but not actually part of her cunt. I slowly worked my way towards the hot center, hearing her moan encouragement.

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