Good With His Hands

Ever have one of those days? When anything that can go wrong, will ...

Monday was like that. I knew I had to be at work to prepare for a big Tuesday meeting, but when I climbed into the shower, the clanking, banging, hissing and the barest trickle of water told me plans had changed.

Calling the plumber meant calling work, too, and telling them I'd be prepping at home.

But see I have a thing about home repairs and my anxiety kept me from even opening my briefcase until the plumber arrived at around 4. Anticipating the usual butt-crack delight my plumbing company generally sends, I greeted, instead, a stud who looked like he'd just stepped off a Hunk of the Month calendar.

Tall, built like a brick shithouse with long black hair and big hands that looked like they could handle the toughest job, he also had a smile that inspired the naughtiest of thoughts in my oh-so-celibate brain. One that he bestowed upon me before sauntering into the house.

I explained the problem, trying not to drool, and he wandered off to do his thing in the bathroom. For my part I tried desperately to keep my focus on my work and not on the piece of work in my bathroom. No such luck.

By 5 pm it was getting dark and I'd lit some lamps and, having given up on work, I'd opened a bottle of wine. I didn't have a date that night (or any night within the next millenium) so I never got changed, but it was getting colder and I decided warmer clothing was in order.

Mr. Plumber had stuck his head out long enough to advise me that he'd be done within the hour, so I thought I would use the time to go change.

I had taken off my bathrobe and was naked and on my hands and knees attempting to pull a shoe out from under my bed when I heard a voice behind me.

"I've finished in the bathroom. Anything else I can do for your, uh, pipes?"

I was mortified and couldn't think of anything to do or say. Needless to say the thought that Mr. Stud was ogly my ass got my engine going. But fortunately my guy was a take-charge sort and when I felt a pair of hands reaching around my waist I only gave a little squeak.

"Just let me handle everything. I think I've got just the right tool for this job."

I was unceremoniously plopped down on the bed on my hands and knees and I heard a couple of thuds as boots fell, and then a zipper losing altitude and moments later a big, thick, supremely hard cock was poking at my ass.

I must have gasped, but Mr. Plumber laughed.

"Never had your butt fucked, babe? Well, let's wait and see. There's a first time for everything.....but let's start at the beginning. I'm a very thorough guy."

But instead he moved the head of his cock to my dripping wet little pussy and in a matter of seconds, I was impaled and being ridden by a master.

God bless home repair service!

Shot Through The Heart

I wasn't prepared to lose him.

As the girlfriend of a cop, I assumed - gruesomely - that I'd lose him to gunfire or some horrid crime gone wrong.

I didn't even imagine that I'd lose him to his job.

"Just leave me the fuck alone,OK? I don't have time for high-maintenance."

He snarled at me and I choked back tears because I'm absurdly over-sensitive and Iknew that if I tried to speak I'd lose it and start to sob.

And I'm nothing if not proud.

So I walked out of the cop bar where we'd met and pulled my purse over my shoulder.

Things had been bad for a while, but I'd done everything I could to support him. A couple days before he'd been nasty and angry and when we had gone to bed he'd shoved my head into his crotch and forced my mouth onto his cock.

I'd cried and choked, but he came in my mouth and afterwards rolled over to sleep without a word.

I'd wiped the tears off of my face and didn't sleep a wink. He was gone when I got up but I sucked it up and decided I should be more supportive. I lost that motivation early on the next day.

He'd texted me to drop off his favorite pair of sneakers the next morning. He'd left at 6 and even though he knew I had an early appointment, he demanded my attention to his needs.

Sadly for him, when I got to the precinct, he was not prepared.

He was, in fact, up against a wall, doing a tongue tonsillectomy on a young woman from the squad. She'd been the temp assistant until the permanent gal left. He'd mentioned her because of her monster boobs. I'd thought he was making a humorous comment. Apparently he was praising the double DDs.

I walked up to them and threw his sneakers at his head. The girl gave a squeal, but my expression must have scared her off because she backed away and sneered at me.

"What the fuck?" He flung himself away from the wall but I held up my hand.

"Don't." ANd I turned and walked away from him, the doublel DDs and the precinct house.

There was nothing left to be said because I may be a doormat; I may put up with a lot of shit; but I don't do cheaters. He'd put his cock in some other hole and I was NOT going to deal.

There were a couple of his pals on the steps to the precinct house and they chuckled. He offered up a couple of "fuck you bitch" before he grabbed the girl by the arm and led her back inside.

I walked down the street and wiped tears from my eyes as I told myself I should be happy to be free of such a needy bastard.

I spotted the Dew Drop Inn and made the decision to head in for a drink. Normally, he and I frequented cop bars and I never got a word in edgewise. I was more like a chair that drank. Give me a glass and I'll stand quietly in the corner.

At the Dew Drop, though there were only a few men. No women. I should have felt intimitdated but I didn't.

I sat at the bar and ordered a gin & tonic. It was hot outside and I wanted something cool.

"Bad day, huh?" A guy sat down on the stool next to me and I glanced at him.

Shit.

He was tall, black-haired, black=eyed and he looked like he'd seen the inside of a jail cell. I know this because, well, I was a cop's girlfriend for way too long.

"Yeah. Shitty, actually." I tossed it off and didn't look back at him until I'd swallowed. He was watching my lips and my throat and he smiled a little when I stared at him.

Then I noticed the gun hanging from underneath his leather jacket. I sat up, leaned back and glared at him.

"Are you a cop?"

He looked straight at me and said, "Fuck, no."

"You're wearing a gun."

"I'm a paid assassin." He didn't smile and I didn't care.

"Oh, is that all?"

He looked me dead in the eyes.

"Yeah."

"OK, that's fine."

And then I went home with him and fucked the memory of that cop sonovabith right out of my mind.

Virtually His

He was a dominant man and I was a submissive gal when we met on-line. Then we started speaking by phone, and it soon became clear that he knew exactly what pushed my buttons. One year later I was stepping into the airport in his Texas town and I saw him waiting for me, all in black. I’d known what to expect, but in person he was bigger and bolder than his pictures conveyed. And a lot more masterful. He swept me into a hug, all nice and proper, but he whispered in my ear, “Get out to my truck, girl, we’ve got some fucking to do.” And off we went.
When we talked about my visit, he’d warned he was going to spank me first, and after that get me on my knees to suck his cock. If I was good, he said he’d fuck me til I couldn’t stand up. The hotel was a few minutes away, but he wasted no time once he got me into the cab of his vintage 1988 Ford pickup.
“Pull up your skirt, girl and show me that sweet pussy.”
I shivered. He was incredibly sexy and so commanding I just about melted. But I did as ordered and loved the look of possession on his face as he stared at my snatch. He pushed a big calloused hand between my thighs and when his fingers slid between the slick, juicy lips of my cunt, I just about came on the spot.
“This is my pussy now, girl.” He stroked me hard and he leaned over and kissed me. Nothing sweet or gentle, no first time peck on the lips, he clamped onto my lips and his tongue shoved into my mouth and I was in Heaven.
He finger fucked me and kissed me and talked dirty to me until I was writhing on the seat.
“Your ass is gonna be mine, too. I can’t wait to get you bent over. I’m gonna paddle those cheeks hard, girl. I’m gonna make you beg for more, aren’t I?”
“Yes.” I was panting and he chuckled.
“Wanna suck my cock?”
“Yes!”
Then his thumb started rubbing my clit and all the months of e-torment, phone threats of spankings and cock-suckings, warnings that he was going to tie me down and paddle, cane, and flog my ass, fuck me senseless and keep me naked and in bed – I started to whimper and he shoved in a third finger.
“Come for me little pussy girl….let me feel you come,” he growled.
And then I did, bucking and groaning, as he grinned that wicked grin I’d only ever seen in pictures.
When I recovered from what was to be the first of many stupendous orgasms that week, I pulled my skirt down and put on my seatbelt. I looked over at my big guy, blushing, and watched him smile in undeniable masculine satisfaction. Then he turned to me and winked.
“Welcome to Texas, darlin’.”

Ready For Blast-off

The bartender stared at me for over an hour. Not constantly, of course, but every time I looked up he was riveted on me. It should have made me nervous, but instead, baby, it made me way hot!

I'd been part of a bachelorette party that had gotten way too drunk and out of control for me. I moved away from the wildness to sit on the outskirts of the group and sip my drink. I planned to cab it home so I wasn't worried, but I also didn't want the whirlies in the morning, either, which all of the other ladies were going to have, in spades.

The bartender had been stoic throughout the night. Given his big, broad, strong physique and a face that would have made Brad Pitt weep with envy, well, he was a total grade A hunk.

"Would you like another?"

He was leaning over me and I caught a whiff of some delectable cologne that made my pussy twitch. That and the fact he had focused those big, dark eyes right on me. My tummy gave a little quiver, too.

"Another drink?"

"Unless I can interest you in something else behind the bar?"

"Oh, my." I knew my mouth was open, but he suddenly grinned and good god, I wanted to spread myself across the bar and let him do me right there. My friends would probably think it was part of the floor show.

"I get off in ten minutes."

"And if you promise to get me off in fifteen, I'm all yours." For a minute I thought the voice had come from someone else. Then I realized I wanted this guy buried deep inside my coochie, and humping me to heaven. Why deny it?

"Boy Scout's honor." He held up the three fingered salute and I had to take a deep breath.

"Kinky. I like that."

A few minutes later, there was a loud roar from my girlfriends as some male strippers appeared. I paid no attention. Because Rocco the Bartender had taken me by the hand after handing over the bar to his relief and was leading me to the storeroom.

Not a glamours place for a tryst, but when Rocco yanked off his shirt and dropped his pants, I decided ambience was over-rated.

He had a cock that deserved a medal and it, and his body, were as hard as I had expected.

"Show me your sweet little pussy and I'll rock your world."

I flipped up my skirt and flicked off my thong and gave a little wiggle. At the sight of my bare snatch he smiled like a wolf. One step closer and he was up against me, his cock snuggled against my pussy like heat seaking missile. He gave it a rub against my clit and I could swear I started to drool.

"Get ready for lift-off." His whisper was lurid in my ear but I didn't care because he took both hands, slid my thighs apart and then, hello, Houston, we were fully-fueld and - we had ignition!

His cock slid into my cunt like it belong there and he had tremendous, muscled thighs that let him lift me off the ground with every deep pounding thrust into me. He grabbed my hands and held them over my head and growled and grinned and grunted every time he shoved himself inside of me. I was panting and trying to appreciate every second of the tightness, the stretching, the damned force of the banging he was giving me.

I was tight and he was huge and it was only a minute or two before I was coming with a wail and I could feel my cunt creaming and dripping,but he kept up the pace, fucking me a little harder, his face tight with control.

"Come for me again, pussy girl." He muttered as he stared at me and when he shifted his hips a bit and his groin was rubbing roughly against my clit, I shot off like the proverbial rocket and then he went too.

The last lunge was mind-boggling and I saw stars as he rammed his cock in so deep I thought I was going to need a shuttle emechanic to get it out.

Then he slid my feet back to the ground, shoved his fingers through the cum and cream that was pouring out of me and stuck those fingers in my mouth. I licked them clean while he smiled an evil, satisfied smile.

"You love being bad, don't you?"

"You have no idea," I moaned as I struggled to stand on shaky legs.

He dropped my skirt back into place, snatched the thong and shoved it into his pants as he pulled them on, and then opened the door. I was holding onto a keg of beer while I regained my equilibrium and I was actually rather shocked that he just blew me a kiss and walked out the door, adjusting his dick inside his jeans as he did so.

Oh, well. A quick, hot fuck in the back of the bar might not have been the most romantic event ever, and I could tell I was going to feel a tad sore for a while, but I smiled with the thought that I had been well and truly fucked.

I adjusted my top and sauntered back to the club where the festivities were breaking up. The gals were so drunk by this point that they hadn't even noticed I was gone.

I smiled and high-fived them as the last stripper strolled away, his g-string loaded with bills, and I gave my girlfriend a hug as she showed me the hickey she had ill-advisedly allowed one of the strippers to give her right boob. I figured it would make for interesting honeymoon chatter, but shrugged it off. Not my problem, after all. And to tell the truth, I was feeling the let down that Rocco had been like the popular grammar book - he shoots and leaves.

Then I grabbed my wrap from the back of the stool I'd been sitting on and paid my bill with Rocco's replacement. When the guy handed me back my change he'd included a copy of the tab and I clutched it in my hand as I hurried after my friends.

It wasn't until I was in the cab on the way home that I unfolded my receipt to check the damage .... that's when I saw there were 2 pieces of paper. One I'd signed for the tab.

The other said, "Can't wait to get another taste of my sweet pussy. Tomorrow for dinner? Then dessert at your place?"

I grinned to myself as I tucked it into my purse, noting the cell number on the bottom and the signature.

It had been signed, Rocco. Boy Scout Troop 69.

Houston, we are go for launch!