Kitchen Aid

The frustration on her face was painfully obvious. Kelly plopped down at the lunch table and blew a heavy sigh through her lips.

"What? Nothing good for lunch today?" I asked playfully.

"I wish that was all it was," replied Kelly glancing at me and turning up a half-grin. "I've been trying to get a plumber to come to my house and install this dishwasher I bought. They want like a minimum of 200 bucks to come over and look at this thing. Most likely it'll cost me 250, I figure. I just can't afford that right now."

Something told me that this was more than just a complaint about money; I just bit into my sandwich.

I've known Kelly now for about three years and we've always enjoyed each other's company. A short time after she began working at my company my wife and I ran into her and her husband in the local mall. We all went out to dinner and had a really nice time. Although as a group didn't become really close, we did get together for cookouts or for a dinner party with some other friends, usually every other month or so. Before the first year was over, however, I noticed a dramatic drop in the frequency of the accepted invitations by Kelly and her husband to our parties. And they never called to invite us over or out. But Kelly and I remained close at work. We often ate lunch together, we even went out to lunch, but nearly always with other colleagues. In fact, she even came by my office every once in a while. She would stop to say hello and ask how the latest project was going. Occasionally, mostly at lunch, she would ask about how my wife and I were getting along. I found this kind of curious but I thought she was just making small talk, something besides work.

And as damn strange as it sounds, Kelly's questions were insightful. My wife had taken another job, a very demanding one. Her time at home and her time with me grew shorter and shorter. She would work 10 to 12 hour days and then go to the gym. She came home only to sleep. I had asked her about her long hours but she offered me a cursory answer about how she loved this job and how far it could advance her career if she put in the time and effort. Our relationship was basically evaporating. I pretty much followed my wife's lead and spent a lot of time at work. But I was not quite as infatuated with my job as she was. So I started looking for other things to do while my wife was working.

I began to fix up the house that we bought. It was an older home so it needed some work. I painted and fixed the woodwork and moulding in some bedrooms and the den and dining room. I then tackled the kitchen. It came out great. It took me 4 months from design to completing the final installations. I replaced the entire kitchen; cabinets, countertop, flooring and even the appliances. It cost a lot but I saved a bundle doing all the work myself. But my life boiled down to working at the office and then coming home and working on the house. I enjoyed it, but it was a bit lonely, so I welcomed Kelly's trips to my office. It was as if I had a real friend. Of course, I started visiting her at her office. But the attention we were giving each other became noticeable at work. We were not in the same department so there would be no problem with favoritism or anything like that. But I was married. I clung to that like it was something to protect. Something that would be there when my wife decided that work was just that and there was more... I waited and all the while maintained my friendship with Kelly.

One day Kelly came to my office early in the morning, she was obviously upset. I got her a cup of coffee and asked what was wrong. She and her husband had just filed for divorce. I told her that I knew something was wrong because we haven't seen her and her husband in the last six months. She said the relationship deteriorated over that time. She had hid it quite well, but then I realized she had dropped a lot of hints, especially her inquiries about my wife and me. To tried to make her feel better. I told her that I hardly see my wife anymore so marriage has little to do with closeness and friendship. I told Kelly that my wife has a greater interest in her career than in me, or so it seemed. This seemed to cheer her a bit. I offered more words of encouragement and offered to help her with anything she needed. She said she might just take me up on my offer. She was looking for a new place to live and might need help moving.

During her search for a place I told Kelly about my home restoration projects. And she told me about her home search. She found a place in about a month; a nice townhouse that was about 15 years old but in good shape. Me, two of her department co-workers and a couple friends moved her on the first weekend after she closed. That night I could tell she wanted people to stay. Perhaps it was my imagination but even as others were filtering off she tried hard to find reasons to keep me working. Little things, pictures, putting things into high places... Finally she offered me a beer and said it was time to stop and relax. As we drank our beers I said I knew it must be hard for her to stay in the new place alone. She asked if my wife was coming home that night; if not, Kelly offered her sofa, it would make her feel better. I demurred. My wife would be home, I told Kelly, and she was probably already there and that I must be going. Before I left I told her to call if there was more to do tomorrow. I should be able to help her. She did call, but only to thank me for the help moving and that she would see me Monday morning.

Our friendship grew slowly over the next two months, we went to lunch often and talked about my still deteriorating relationship with my wife, but there always remained this barrier. It was an intangible thing that prevented Kelly and I from growing closer, this vapid marriage that I held on to. But Kelly's smile was a delight; her hair smelled like wildflowers, she was so pretty... I wanted to take her to dinner, to a movie, to kiss her... but I couldn't bring myself to cross this threshold.

"You know, I installed the dishwasher in my kitchen," I simply plopped out there like a sack of flour.

Kelly's eyes opened wide but she looked down as she forked a cherry tomato into her mouth, chewed and swallowed.

"How difficult was it?" she just as plainly asked.

I kinda knew where this line of conversation was leading but like a new hiking trail it just begged to be followed, slowly and alertly.

"Not too difficult, if you know some basic carpentry and making electrical connections. Of course, you do know how to sweat joints to do the plumbing?"

Kelly gave me a terse look, "Doesn't everybody?"

I took another bite of sandwich and smiled at her.

After a pause of a few seconds she continued, "OK, for the sake of argument. Let's just pretend I know less than basic carpentry, just maybe I know the correct end to hold a hammer. Let's say that anything more complicated than screwing in a light bulb is beyond my ability to do the electrical work. And the only time I sweat is when I'm at the gym, and pipe joints are not doing the sweating. So what would I do then?"

The hiking trail had taken a straight path to the trail's end, but perhaps I could still take a side path.

"You know there are websites that give you step by step instructions... or perhaps I could help you."

"You could help me? Really?" Kelly asked eagerly.

"Sure. I could write you up a really detailed set of instructions. Like the first thing I would tell you is to shut off the electricity at the circuit breaker. Do this so you don't electrocute yourself. And then I would make sure you build a strong dolly so you can remove the old and bring in the new dishwasher without damaging your floors. I'll have to think a little bit so make sure I don't miss anything else important...

"Wait!"

Kelly decided that the path I was on was not one she cared to follow anymore.

She smiled at me and asked directly, "Do you think you can come over and help me install my dishwasher on Saturday?"

Well, there it was. She cut through all my playful diversion and left me with a decision. I sat there mulling over any implications that might be hidden behind this simple request for help. And most likely it was only that, so why was I hesitant? Why? Her pretty smile was too persuasive. After a few more seconds I made my decision.

"So you won't try it by yourself. Chicken. Yeah, I'm free; I guess I could help a little. But you'll have to do most of the work, including the heavy lifting."

"Yeah, OK," Kelly grimaced, "but who's the real chicken here?"

Kelly knew what she was doing. I was much less sure. She read my discomfort about being alone with her. She probably noticed the night I helped her move in too. But she was direct in asking for my help. And I realized that I was quite happy that she asked.

Chapter 2

Saturday morning broke warm but cloudy. My wife was up and off to work by 7:30 am. Before she left she said she would be home by 3:00 p.m. and that we had to go to her brothers house for a niece's 2-year-old birthday party. Fine; I had plenty of time to install Kelly's dishwasher. I got ready; my tools were packed and in the car already. I drove straight to her house; she said she would make coffee and breakfast. I was there by 8:30 a.m.; the front door was open. I brought my tools to the front door and knocked.

Kelly was there in a few seconds and pushed open the screen door. I was startled by her appearance. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled up in a ponytail instead of down in a cascade of waves around her shoulders as I have always seen her wear it. She was wearing a pastel tee shirt and, I had to look closer to be sure, a denim miniskirt. I would not have recognized her if I passed her in a grocery store, she looked that different. I was caught by surprise and then startled back to reality.

"Well are you coming in or don't you know who I am?"

"Uhh, oh, let me just grasp my tools and I'm coming," I blurted. But once inside I regained my composure, "You know, you really do look different from how you look at work. Even when you moved in here you looked more like you do at work."

"Do I look too ratty like this?"

"No! Not at all. You look..." and I caught a whiff of breakfast, "...is that bacon I smell?"

"Bacon and eggs, you'll need your strength. So I made a hearty breakfast," Kelly replied with a wry smile. She knew I was avoiding answering her question.

I dropped my tools next to the derelict dishwasher, "Is this the foul beast?"

"That's the one, do you want to see the new one?"

"Yeah, lemme see the new one and I can read the installation sheet and get ready."

"C'mon," Kelly directed as she headed down a hall.

I was intrigued by the legs that preceded me. I knew she had nice legs but I never had the opportunity to see how nearly perfect they were. Slim muscular thighs leading down to well-turned calves and thin ankles, wow! But I had to get a grip on myself. She banged through a door into the garage and there was the boxed dishwasher.

"There."

"OK. You finish the breakfast and I'll open the box and check out this new dishwasher."

"Gimme five minutes to get everything on the table." And with that Kelly flitted back into the house.

I stood there for a second considering exiting through the garage door and fleeing the scene. But only for a second; I couldn't think of a better way to spend a day than with Kelly. So why did I have butterflies in my belly? And although she made me a bit nervous I realized that I thoroughly enjoyed being with her, she was fun and so pretty. I cracked open the box the reveal an attractive new appliance. I open the front door and retrieved the manuals. I sauntered back into the kitchen.

"Good timing, breakfast is ready." Kelly announced.

Breakfast was good and fun. I read to her from the installation manual and she looked aghast. She had not a clue when it came to installing this dishwasher. I cleared the table of dishes and she rinsed them.

"We can test the new one by washing these."

As she rinsed them I opened the front door on the old dishwasher. Water was filling, albeit slowly, the bottom of it.

"Hold on," I said as I opened the cabinet door under the sink and took a look. "Did you notice that dirty water was draining into your dishwasher?"

She looked in and said, "Yeah, but I thought that was normal. I just ran the dishwasher a lot to clean it out."

"That's not normal. The drain line isn't fastened up high and water from the sink is flowing into the dishwasher. Here," I said as I bent down and looked up under the sink. "One lousy nail! Of course the drain line fell off." I slipped the old drain line onto the nail; "I'll make sure I do a better job than the bonehead who installed this one."

Kelly smiled confidently at me and I set to work.

"First we do what?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"Do you remember what I told you in the cafeteria? The first things to do..."

She was biting her lower lip trying hard to remember.

"...you don't have a clue. Do ya?" I laughed.

"I was thinking more about how to ask you here to help, I wasn't paying close attention to the instructions...sorry."

"It's alright. Where is your main electrical panel?"

Even this was a bit of a challenge. It ended up being in the garage. I showed her how to cut the electrical power to the correct circuit. After that she helped by watching me work. The old unit was removed and rolled to her backyard on the dolly I brought. The new unit was rolled in and positioned. I made the electrical connections and put the copper pipe extension in place. Kelly was kneeling right next to me watching me sweat the joints of the new length of pipe using a propane torch and solder. She rested on her elbows right next to me, she smelled wonderful. I slid the dishwasher into place and fitted the final joint together. I needed a ceramic pad to prevent a fire as I sweated the final joint. I asked her to reach into my toolbox and pull out this thing that looked like a white tile. She pivoted on one knee and reached way forward into my tools. As she did this her legs were pointing toward me, and her legs parted offering me a view up her miniskirt. To my astonishment I saw that Kelly wasn't wearing panties! She was completely naked under her skirt; neatly trimmed and alluring... I quickly looked back under the dishwasher but I could feel an erection forming. I changed position to conceal it.

"Here. Is this it?"

"You got it," I replied as she dropped it into my hand while looking into my eyes inquiringly.

I finished the last joint and all that had to be done was to fasten the drain line properly.

I went out to my car. Picked up a four-foot plywood board and a clamp with two screws. I put the plywood on the edge of the undersink cabinet and the other side on the floor to make a ramp that I could lie on as I clamped the drain line into its awkward position next to the sink. I took my drill, the clamp and two screws with me as I shimmied deep under the sink on my back. I heard Kelly walk back into the kitchen.

"How's it going? Almost finished?" she asked.

"Going great, just let me clamp up this last line and I'm done."

She rounded the corner and saw me, "Oh, look at you. Looks like you're being eaten by the cabinet."

"Yeah, this has to be attached in a pretty inaccessible place," I grunted.

As I was finalizing the attachment point I heard Kelly say, "Hey, no matter what, you have to promise to stay where you are and not try to get out."

"What?" I thought 'What was she talking about?'

"Just that; stay put no matter what, OK?"

"I guess. I just have to clamp up this line."

"OK. You promised."

I thought that was weird but I was involved in the job at hand and I was driving the first screw through the clamp when I felt my jeans unsnap and the zipper being pulled down.

"What's goin' on?" I shouted as I stopped drilling.

"You promised you would stay there, now keep drilling!" Kelly demanded.

I was so surprised that I raised my drill to finish driving the first screw. I felt my pants being pulled down off my buttocks and down to my knees. I sucked air into my lungs.

"I don't hear any drilling!" stated Kelly.

I put the Phillips tip into the screw and drove the screw halfway in. I felt soft warm fingers wrap around my semi-erect manhood, squeeze and pull and slide. The tip of the drill dropped from the screw.

"I still don't hear any drilling."

I jammed the drill into the screw, pushed, and pulled the trigger. The screw was in place. Kelly stoked my penis a few times and then I felt her tongue, warm and wet, lick around the head of my erection. I looked down from my weird position and I could see her head drop down. I felt soft lips envelope the head of my penis, a tongue cup the underside of my shaft in a warm wet embrace.

It felt so good. I let out a soft moan, "uhgghh."

Kelly broke away, "You are still drilling, right?"

"Oh... yeah," I muttered as I took the second screw and placed it onto the drill bit. I raised the drill into position and squeezed the trigger. The screw began to thread in just as Kelly's lip reattached to the end of my penis and slid down the length of the shaft, then back up and down again. Her lips were so soft, this felt so good. With all the concentration I could muster I pulled the trigger on the drill and drove the screw part way in. Kelly's tongue danced around my engorged flesh and her mouth sucked me in, deeply. I involuntarily clenched my buttocks and thrust my manhood into Kelly's throat. She pressed back against me devouring my entire erection. She pulled back keeping her lips tight to me, all the way to my sensitive glans, then she dropped down again taking the length into her throat. Her hands glided up my hips and sides stopping at my ribcage. I felt nails press into my skin and then rake down over my belly. All the while she had my penis deep in her mouth suckling and rolling her tongue around its shaft. Kelly continued raking her nails along my skin, down the front of my hips left and right of my genitals where that sensitive skin twitched as if tickled. She dug her nails in to stop the tickling, and at the same time pulled her lips along the entire length of my erection and then all the back down, again taking its full length deep into her mouth and throat. Her hands moved between my legs cupping my testicles and gently scratching my scrotum. As she pulled her head back a shutter went through me, this was the best head I had ever gotten and I wanted her to finish me. But she released me from her mouth.

"I don't think you've finished that drilling. Come on now."

I felt her get up off me and the plywood board, and I thought that I blew my chance, but it was simply impossible for me to finish this job as Kelly was pleasuring me. I put the drill to the screw and with one Herculean effort of concentration I drove the screw in completely. The drain line was complete, as was the installation. But I thought Kelly was done, that she decided that what she was doing was wrong, or she was serious about the drilling. But then I saw her step over me, straddling me as she stepped up onto the plywood ramp. She reached down pushing my pants to my ankles and then placing one hand on each of my hips. Her knees bent, her legs splayed open, barely exposing her neatly trimmed pussy in the shadow of her flared miniskirt. My erection stood mast-like aiming straight toward her approaching vagina; I could just see a glistening pink slit in the dim light. As her nether lips caressed the head of my penis I could feel her struggle. Then she lifted one hand, found the zipper on her miniskirt and pulled it down. The short skirt became a single panel of denim that Kelly tossed away. Kelly shifted her position slightly, placed her hand back on my hip for support and slowly lowered herself onto my turgid penis. The soft swollen lips of her sex wrapped around the bulbous head, dabbing moisture and lubricating honey onto it. Kelly rocked her hips plowing me through her wetness. She slid down the underside of my shaft leaving a trail of honey along the way. The mouth of my penis nuzzled her clit, all snug in the V-cleft at the top of her pink slit. She rotated her hips allowing the engorged penis head to stimulate and excite her nub. Her thighs quivered in anticipation, she could take no more teasing, she needed penetration... Kelly dragged her wet pussy up along the length of my manhood, and I could feel her position herself just so. And then I felt her weight pressing down on my penis, which seemed to find the warm slick entrance instinctively. The pressure increased again and I felt the sphincter, guarding the entrance to her vagina, relax and my cockhead slipped into her. She was warm and velvety, so welcoming. Without conscious thought I reached for her. But I still had my drill in my hand. It whacked the underside of the sink, fell from my hands and smacked me on the forehead before dropping on the cabinet floor with a thud.