TV Repair

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Mrs. Walker finds out about business principles.
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I opened my television repair workshop about six months ago. I don't make a fortune, but I have enough customers to pay the rent and keep it going. I do house calls for those who require them.

About a month ago, Mrs. Walker called and said she was having some problems tuning in the VCR and would I come over and do it for her. I told her sure and that it would cost twenty-five dollars. These small jobs could be a pain in the butt at times, but Mrs. Walker was an attractive lady and she wore pretty revealing clothes. It would be worth my time to have a surreptitious look at her.

I arrived at 1.15 p.m. and knocked on the door, toolbox in hand. The door opened and Mrs. Walker stood there in a tight velvet shirt and even tighter black Capri pants. I couldn't help but look at her large breasts, tiny waist and flared hips with a gulp.

"Hi Andrew." She said cheerfully. "I'm having an awful time with this video and I want to tape the Young and the Restless."

"No problem Mrs. Walker." I replied in a friendly voice. "I'll have it fixed in no time."

I followed behind her as she walked, eyes locked on her very generous arse as it wiggled in front of me. She led me to the rumpus room. It had a large TV, expensive stereo and CD player on one side of the room, a big soft couch in the middle and behind it a ping-pong table. Mrs. Walker sat down on the couch and I knelt in front of the TV cabinet. The VCR was a newer model with a different tuning band.

"Ahhh!" I said. "Here is your problem Mrs. W. You've been trying to tune into the VHF band when this one runs on UHF."

"Whoa, you're talking techno talk to me Andrew. I can't even work the remote properly."

It took only a few minutes to tune it in. I tweaked her colour, contrast, brightness and assigned all the channels into a skip sequence. I ran her through the remote assignments, sneaking an eyeful of her heavy breasts whenever I could. I thought she noticed, but she didn't acknowledge it. I pulled out my receipt book and began to fill it out. 1 VCR TUNING AND SET-UP. $25. I handed her the slip as I stood. She took it and looked away, a little embarrassed.

"I'm really sorry Andrew, but I actually don't have the cash on me now,"

I stood there blankly staring at her. Why would she make an appointment and not have the money?

"I had it ready for you, but I forgot there was a delivery for Mr. Walker coming and I had to use the money for that."

I wasn't sure what I should do. Now as I've said, I am not rich and my business was just starting. 25 bucks was 25 bucks. I couldn't give her credit. I had bills to pay, but I didn't have any idea of how to figure this one out.

"I could have it for you tomorrow if you wanted to drop by." She said looking a bit embarrassed.

I said nothing. I was trying to think. I was pretty booked tomorrow and it would be out of my way to call back and I voiced this to her. Mrs. Walkers face went red and she averted her eyes.

"Could I pay you some other way?"

"What did you have in mind?" I asked, not really knowing what I was asking.

Suddenly she grabbed the hem of her velvet shirt and drew it up, whipping it over her head. With a BOING her enormously round breasts, covered only by a straining bra were bouncing before my eyes. Her left hand reached around back and unsnapped her bra, and then there they were. Huge white breasts, with a slight droop and huge dark red areolas tipped with long nipples. The nipples were hard.

"Do you like these Andrew?" she asked quietly. "I noticed you noticing them as you worked."

"I think they're amazing Mrs. W."

She knelt down in front of me and started to undo my jeans. My cock had leapt to attention at the sight of her norks and was straining in my Jockey's. She made a long hmmm sound as she worked my Levi's down to my knees. Mrs. Walker paused for a second and looked up at me smiling. Then she peeled my tight Jockey's down and my cock jumped forward and bounced in front of her.

"This will fix up the bill?" she asked.

I nodded feebly as she began to stroke my cock in long hard movements. Her tongue flicked out and gently lapped at my pee-hole, then ran down the underside of my turgid mass. At 24 I had a bit of experience, but I'd never had a huge-titted 36-year-old woman go down on me. I could feel that familiar feeling and I knew I wasn't going to last long. As she started to suck, her head bobbed up and down which caused her tits to wobble about down below. The sight was awesome. She was certainly not a fat woman, but she was definitely chubby. Looking over her shoulder at the swell of her very plump arse, picturing it naked, the jism started to rise.

Mrs. Walker must have sensed this, because she quickly removed me from her mouth, gathered up her tremulous breasts in her hands and wrapped them around my penis. She squeezed tight and moved her upper body up and down quickly. The warmth and pressure around my cock was too much and I let fly with a guttural grunt and spurted jets of hot cum up onto her neck and chin. It ran down over her breasts and she looked awesome half naked and dripping in front of me.

"Does that square us Andrew?" she asked looking down at her breasts and idly rubbing her finger in a spot of jizz.

"Umm, yeah. That's fine Mrs. W." I quickly pulled up my pants. I wanted to get out of there in case she got mad at what had just happened. She picked up her shirt and drew it to her breasts to cover up. Slowly she walked me to the door.

"See you Mrs. W." I said. "If you have any more problems, feel free to call me."

"Haven't you forgotten something Andrew?" she asked.

" Oh yeah. Thank you Mrs. Walker."

"No not that." She smiled warmly. "The receipt to show my husband."

A bit embarrassed, I tore off the receipt and handed it over. She took it from me and smiled as she said goodbye. I stumbled down to my van and got in. House calls. Hmmm.

I went about business as usual. Installing cable boxes, tuning, the occasional tube replacement. When I answered the phone after a few days and heard Mrs. Walkers voice, the image of her humungous tits came flooding back. She'd tried to move the entertainment set-up around and in doing so, had somehow detuned the VCR. Could I come over and fix it for her? I said yes and once again quoted her $25. I would come at 2.00p.m.

When I arrived, Mrs. Walker was dressed much the same as the first time. I went into the rumpus room, dawdling behind her broad backside, which had entered my thoughts several times within the last week. What a pleasure it would be to bare that arse, part her chubby cheeks and poke my dick right up her.........But I had a job to do.

After I'd finished and was tallying up the receipt, she fumbled in her purse and looked up blankly. Long story made short, she didn't have the cash again. I fumed a little, but when she lifted her shirt, released her bountiful bosom and knelt in front of me, I shrugged and undid the button-fly of my jeans.

When I left her, cum-splattered with another receipt in her hand, I figured this was okay, but since I'd given receipts, I had to cover the money when I did my books. It was only $50 I reasoned. I could cover that easy enough at the end of the month when I settled my accounts. Besides, there was plenty of work coming in.

Over the next two weeks, though, I was becoming a little disturbed. As a result of referrals from Mrs. Walker, I had called on Mrs. Foster, Mrs. Morgan and Mrs. Gennaro. All of them needed minor adjustments to their transition. Strangely, none of them had the cash on them to pay me. Well, Mrs. F stripped to the waist, sucked my balls and jacked me off over her tits. Mrs. M stripped to her underwear, had me suck and nibble on her breasts, and then sucked me off. My girlfriend wouldn't even do that, so having my spunk gulped down by Mrs. M was worth it. Mrs. G was a large (and I mean large!) Italian lady and actually had me fuck her. I was happier than a pig in shit. Until the end of the month when my landlord came for the rent.

I'd been so busy getting my knob polished, sucked and fucked that I had forgotten to square up the books. I'd written $125 worth of receipts that I hadn't covered. The day before I had paid out $600 for supplies and had no cash. The landlord pointed out that I was short on the rent. He could easily rent the workshop to someone on his waiting list. The figure the rent was short by? $125.

I managed to cover the rent by putting off a few personal pursuits and was going to survive. My girlfriend was a little pissed that we were going to have to miss out on a weekend away, but things were cool. I resolved that I would only take cash payments at the completion of jobs from now on. No hand-jobs, head-jobs, boob-jobs or fucking fat Italian ladies. Cash on the barrel hand.

Another couple of weeks passed by. Now being that I was just a small one-man operation, I'd been able to turn a reasonable profit for myself without having to lay out money for wages etcetera. The profit wasn't huge, but it was keeping me well enough.

Then one day as I was working on a set, I answered a call from a friend in TV retail. The news he had wasn't good. Galaxy TV, a chain of TV repair shops had opened a branch not too far from me. They were charging really competitive prices for cable installations, tunings, and repairs and had the backup of being a national chain. These bastards were horning in on my racket.

I panicked. I called all of my customers and had a bunch of new fliers printed up with some pretty seriously reduced prices. If I could undercut the boys at Galaxy, I would keep my customers. One or two may go, but I was prepared for that. For the next two weeks, I worked like a bastard. Taking on more work than I could handle. I got it all done, but my girlfriend wouldn't talk to me, let alone give me any quality time, because I was always working, sometimes 16 hours a day.

At the end of the month when I did the accounts, I hadn't made much profit for my efforts, but I had the expenses covered. The rent, utilities and work supplies were covered. Just. I was writing out the cheques and sealing them up. Joe the postman was there waiting to take them. As I handed him the envelopes for the phone, electricity and parts wholesaler, the phone started to ring. I saw Joe off and absently picked up the phone. It was my landlord.

"Well Andrew, do you have the rent this month?"

"Yes Mr. Rutherford," I answered the slimy bastard with a sneer. "I have your $900 for you."

"$900?" he queried. "Didn't you get my letter on the 23rd? As of the 1st of next month, the rent is $1100!"

I was gob smacked. I looked in my in tray and saw his letter. I'd noted it, but had been so busy that I had forgotten to take it into the account. Damn. It would really hurt to come up with the other $200. To old Rutherford I feigned coolness when I spoke.

"Oh that's right. Yes I have it for you."

"Good!" he said. "I'll come by at 5.00p.m. tomorrow to pick it up."

He hung up and I dropped to the floor with my head in my hands. I'd only made $200 profit. $100 of that was committed to the jewellery store holding my girlfriends engagement ring. That left me $100 short. Just as I was about to lose it and start smashing up the place, the phone rang again. It was after five and I was officially closed, but I answered the call. To my great surprise it was Mrs. Walker. "Hello Andrew. I have a job for you."

As soon as I heard the word job, the cash register noise went off in my head. God I hoped it was something big. As long as it made me the hundred I needed, though, I'd live to fight 'til next month.

"I've just bought a big rear projection TV, DVD player and a new VCR. I want you to set them up for me."

Well it wasn't big. I could only really charge the usual $25 to plug in and tune her equipment for her, but it was a start.

"Sure Mrs. W, but it has to be cash this time. Take the $25 now and put it in an envelope."

I nearly shit when she said her next words.

"How much for a cable installation, Andrew?"

Ch-ching!! A cable install was worth; you guessed it, a glorious $75. I was out of jail!!

"Well, all up it will be a hundred dollars. I have to stress that I need a cash payment of the full amount at the end of the job. I've got a new competitor and I have to keep on top of my accounts."

"Yes Andrew, I understand completely. Mr. Walker has authorised me to have you do this and has already given me the money."

"All right Mrs. W. I'll be there at 12.30p.m. tomorrow. Put the money in a safe place."

She hung up and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I knew that I wasn't going to make my fortune in the first year. The trick was to stay afloat long enough to establish a good clientele and then the money would start to improve. With this last minute job for Mrs. Walker, I would be able to keep going. I left feeling as if a great weight had been lifted.

In the van on the way to the Walker house, I had a moment of uneasiness. What if she pulled the same trick again? A suck and a titty-fuck wasn't going to pay old Rutherford his pound of flesh. I relaxed a little when I thought of how definite I had been with her that this was a cash job to be paid immediately. With this in mind, I drove into her driveway, got out with my tool kit and knocked on the door.

She answered in the same red velvet top from our first meeting and a tight black skirt that did wonders for her. Her legs were covered in black-seamed hold-up stockings. Schwing!! But I was here to work. She led me (with the now familiar butt-wobbles) into the rumpus room and signalled me to go ahead. She sat on the couch and crossed her legs. I saw the briefest flash of panty as she did so.

The work took about an hour and a half. Mrs. W brought me lemonade when I came down from the manhole. I fixed the junction box to accept the cable transmission, and then set up the new TV and peripherals. Tuning up didn't take long and I got her to fill out the form for the cable company authorising my sub-contractors licence. Gathering up my toolbox and the left over lengths of coaxial cables, I told her I would take them out to the van, have a smoke, then come back and write up her bill and take the payment.

She had agreed to this and I went outside. I sparked up a Marlboro and punched Rutherford's number into my mobile phone. He answered on the second ring.

"Hi Mr. Rutherford, it's Andrew. I just wanted to confirm that you are coming at 5p.m. for the rent."

With little small talk, he confirmed sounding a little miffed. The grapevine said that he had a refrigerator mechanic willing to pay $1300 a month for my workshop. I guess he just didn't like a young guy trying to make his way. Maybe it was my longish hair and earring. Who cared? It was time to go and get paid.

I walked back in the house feeling totally relaxed after a job well done. Mrs. W was sitting in the rumpus room waiting for me. As I stopped in front of her, she looked at me gravely. My pulse quickened.

"I'm really sorry Andrew." She said solemnly. "You're not going to believe this, but Mr. Walker didn't leave the money for me."

For a second my heart stopped. No! Not now!! I told her specifically that she had to have the money for me this time. She stood up quickly and pulled at her top. Just as quickly she unsnapped her bra and those pendulous tits sprang forth. She knelt down and started grabbing at my fly. I batted her hands away and took a step back.

"You stupid rich cunt!!" I yelled and her face paled. "Your floppy tits aren't going to pay my fucking rent!! Without your money today I can lose my business!! You stupid, fat-arsed bitch. You promised me you'd have it."

Now I had never spoken to a woman this way ever before, but I was so mad and so scared of losing the business which had caused big problems with my girlfriend, my father who wanted me to work at his realty company and cost me a lot in equipment to start up. I wasn't too worried about being polite.

"Oh Andrew, I had no idea." Mrs. Walker was saying. "I thought you liked my method of payment. I didn't realise. I'm sorry."

"Yeah lady, you're real sorry. Just whip your tits out at the TV guy and you won't have to pay. And you're fucking rich!! It's not like you don't got the money!!"

Her head tipped towards the floor. She was mighty embarrassed at being yelled at and at the realisation that she was a cock teasing bored housewife playing with a young man's livelihood. I was so mad I wanted to punch her in the face, but I couldn't help gazing at those big fat boobies that were moving up and down with her breathing. My cock started to stir.

"What can I do Andrew? I'm so sorry. You can do anything you want to me. Anything. I'll get the money off Mr. Walker tonight and bring it by your workshop tomorrow."

"Tomorrow's to late Mrs. W." I knew that Rutherford would pull my lease straight away if I didn't front with the cash tonight.

"I'm so sorry. What can I do to make it up to you? Just tell me."

I took a step towards her and she dropped to her knees in front of me and started at my fly again. I grabbed her hands and pulled her back up to her feet.

"That's not going to do it this time Mrs. W." as I said this, her eyes took on a slightly alarmed look for a second and then she nodded.

"What do you want then?"

I was still so mad at her, and I figured that my workshop was history now. It occurred to me that this bitch had cost me my dream and I would give her something she wouldn't soon forget. I spoke with quiet menace.

"Well you've cost me a lot and I'm gonna take the price out of this, this, this and this!!"

With each utterance of this, I grabbed a different part of her. First I put my finger in her mouth and on her tongue, and then I roughly grabbled her breasts and shook them. Next I cupped my hand under the front of her skirt, grabbing and squeezing her mound and finally grabbed a handful of that huge arse, poking a finger into the crack for a second.

"Okay, okay. You can do what you want. I didn't mean to cause you this trouble."

"Get undressed!" I hissed.

She removed the skirt, hesitated a moment to look me in the eye like a deer in headlights, then peeled down her black control briefs. She had neatly trimmed pubic curls of jet black. I told her to turn around to show me her arse. Biting her bottom lip, she followed my order and stuck out her broad hillocks. I'm a bit of an arse man. Where all my friends liked girls with tiny little boy butts (like my girlfriends!) my preference was for big, round and wide derrieres that you could grab onto. Mrs. Walkers was a ten. There was the teeniest bit of cellulite and she'd had three kids, but to me she looked like Bettie Page with just a few extra pounds on. Grrrr!

"What do you want to do?" she asked with trepidation. I was horny as hell now, looking at her naked bodies generous proportions, but I was still furious. Anger and a hard-on can be a pretty serious combination.

"First," I said, "I'm going to teach you a lesson about being honest. When you say you've got the money, you better damn well have it!"

Mrs. Walker's bottom lip began to quiver and her eyes were wide as saucers. She was terrified of me, but her nipples were sticking out as hard as little acorns. "Then I'm going to take payment for my work today and for the money I lost 'cos of you're referrals to those other rich bitches. You started all this."

I looked over to the ping-pong table and saw the paddles lying there and got an idea. I wanted to see that big arse of hers turn beet red. I sat down on the couch.

"Go get that paddle and bring it to me."

She sighed involuntarily and shook her head from side to side, but I wasn't to be swayed.

"Get it now!!" I commanded.

Mrs. Walker stood shaking for a minute with her mouth wide open, and then reluctantly moved over to the ping-pong table. Her right hand reached down and took hold of the paddle. She looked at it despairingly, then straight at me, then back at the paddle. Swallowing heavily, she made her way back to me and held it out. I snatched it off her then grabbed her left wrist and pulled her roughly across my lap. Her arse-cheeks shuddered and wobbled as she fell across my lap and I ran my eyes over the vast, milky white expanse.

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