Page 8 of A Very No Strings Halloween
I slide my hand down his abs and over the hard length in his jeans. “Yeah. It feels good. Your tool’s so much bigger than my ex-husband’s.”
“Forget about your ex, baby. By the time I’m done pumpin’ and flushin’ your pipes, you won’t remember his name. I bet my male line’s gonna fit your female unionjuuuustright.”
“I need you to snake my drain—hurry!” I plead. I am so turned on and so tired.
“What is this, satin?” He slips his hands under the hem and squeezes my ass.
“It’s one hundred percent mulberry silk!”
“Sooo silky. Like your tight, drippin’-wet pussy?”
The mouth on this one, I swear. He slowly lowers himself down the front of my body until his knees touch the floor and then swiftly yanks the skirt up past my hips. I close my eyes and thread my fingers through his wavy hair as the tip of his thumb presses against my clit over the mesh thong. I cannot wait to feel his short beard scraping the skin of my inner thighs. “Jesus fuck, baby, you’re so wet… Wait…everything’s wet. My feet are wet. What the hell?”
It isn’t until he stands up again that I realize my feet are wet too. I’m standing in a puddle. “Shit.”
THREE
Billy
STRANGER (NO) STRINGS
“Shit. Shit, not again!” Donna pulls out all the hand towels from a drawer and throws them onto the floor. “Turn off the dishwasher—turn it off!”
I leap over the puddle and hit a button on the washer to turn it off. “Wait, your dishwasher really was leakin’?”
“It did the last time I ran it, yeah.” Donna runs to the linen closet in the hallway to grab more towels, or more like shuffles very quickly, because her wicked hot little silky dress thing is so tight.
“Well, why didn’t you say so?”
“What do you mean?!” She drops more towels onto the floor to soak up the hot water. “I did.”
“But you gotta admit—the outfit, the names, you kinda led with the ‘fantasy’ part more than the ‘my dishwasher needs some actual repairs’ part.”
Donna lets out a big, stress-filled, exasperated sigh. That shouldn’t do anything for me, but it heaves her wonderful rack even higher up out of the top of her tight little dress before it descends gently on the off breath. “Well, that’s because I knew I could justnotrun the dishwasher when it’s leaking, but it’s a lot harder to not have sex when I’m horny!” She looks up at me. We’re both still breathing a little heavy and her cheeks are flushed. Both from trying to create a flood in her panties and from preventing a flood in her kitchen.
Sometimes I can’t believe she’s real. She’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever been with. The lock of hair matted to her forehead from a little sweat somehow only adds to her charm. Everything she does and everything she says only everadds. If they used pictures of her body in geometry textbooks, guys would understand curvature in an instant. Hourglasses get their inspiration from the shape of her body, not the other way around. When the Animaniacs said,Hellooooooo, nurse!they were talking to Donna and only to her.
But Donna isn’t my girlfriend. We don’t date. We role-play and pretend to be other people—people who don’t really know each other—because it’s fun and it de-stresses her. She gets it. This wonderful, beautiful, fun broad gets it. And I fucking love giving it to her. But I do know her well enough now to see that there’s stress in her eyes beneath all that lust. Her pantiesmay be wet, but so are her floors and her appliance is broken. This is a woman who works hard, and she wants the things in her life to work when she needs them to. She’s not going to be able to really relax until her dishwasher’s fixed. And if she’s awake, she’s out of the apartment for her job, so she can’t wait around during the day.
So I do the hardest thing I think I’ve done since trying to give up Dunkin’ for Lent. I think beyond how hard I am right at this very moment and consider the big picture. “Well, how about I fix it and then we fuck.”
“How about we fuck first and then you fix it,” Donna replies, pouting and trying to get my arms to wrap around her luscious body again.
“If a fake plumber gets you goin’ just wait until you watch me lay pipe for real,” I say with a grin that I know is dangerous.
Donna smirks, trying to arm herself against my charm.Good luck with that, lady.“Well, as I’ve already said many times tonight—hurry up, Rod.”
I inspect the dishwasher, opening the door. A little more water pours out, and I shut it quickly. “Shouldn’t take long at all. Bet it’s just a kinked drain hose.”
“Well, I think it’s unfair the hose gets to be kinky and I’m over here all alone,” she pouts again, completely adorable.
“Just have a seat, sweet cheeks, and watch my big strong hands remove this unit.”
“I can’t sit in this thing.” She waves her hand up and down her magnificent lingerie.
“Well, then turn around, put your hands on the wall, and spread your legs.” I wink at her. She laughs and shakes her head. Instead, she chooses to fold her arms, pushing her breasts up, and leans one luscious hip against the counter while I get to work.
I take a screwdriver out of my toolbox and start removing the screws that attach the dishwasher unit to the cabinets. “So is it just the dishwasher?”
