A Debt to be Paidbypaerotica©
Ann came into her house, lugging bags of groceries she had picked up from the store. She had just five hours before her kids returned home from school and she had ten hours' worth of work to get done. It had been raining for three days straight and she was soaked right through to the bone. Ann didn't dare go into her attic for fear of what she might find there. She didn't want to know if the roof was leaking because even if it were, she didn't have the funds to fix it. Her divorce had been finalized just a few months earlier and her ex had left her with a house ready to fall down around her. Ann did not have the money, the energy or the inclination to repair things nor the time, the energy or the inclination to find a man to help her out. The thought of dating had barely crossed her mind since her ex had dropped the bomb that he was leaving their children and her to run off and marry his secretary. Ann had been in survival mode for the last year or so - kids, food, shelter, finances, nothing more, nothing less. She rarely saw her friends or went out, she had scaled back on most everything that they did, and she didn't have the time to worry about her looks or her clothes - her life had changed dramatically, overnight. Ann couldn't remember the last time she had spent the afternoon shopping or when she had last spent five minutes in front of a mirror. When she reflected on the way that she used to shop with her friends, have long, leisurely lunches, buying clothes and handbags and shoes simply because she liked them - well, that all seemed a lifetime ago. Ann was a different person today than she was two years ago - vastly different - not necessarily new and improved, just new. She looked down at her breasts to check - nope, she hadn't bothered to put on a bra this morning either, figuring that her rain jacket would cover any sign that she had bare breasts under her t-shirt.
Oddly enough, the ten pounds that she had fought so hard to lose with aerobics and pilates classes for years, had fallen right off of her, after David left her. She probably wouldn't have even noticed except none of her clothes fit any longer. She tended to reach for the same jeans every morning, a pair she had found in the back of her closet, some she'd worn in college. She and her kids now all wore the same t-shirts. Her hair, nine days out of ten, went back and up and into a clip before she left the house and she didn't give her looks another thought until her own reflection would stop her dead in her tracks. She would stare at herself, wondering what the hell had happened to that young, carefree girl. She was definitely a woman now, a tired, beaten-down-by-life woman. People told her that she didn't look it on the outside, but she sure as hell felt it on the inside. Her blond hair no longer had the highlights she used to time to the second for their six-week update, to make sure that her roots never showed. She no longer had the weekly manicure and pedicure, and she found it particularly ironic that her ex-husband had insisted she have the laser hair removal treatments because he so hated to feel stubble on her legs when he crawled into bed next to her. About the last time they shared a bed, her treatments were complete and she was hair-free. Ann couldn't help but wonder if Vicki (his secretary) had gone through the same process.
Quite honestly, though, she didn't miss all of the maintenance. Her new life seemed to suit her and while she had those days (and nights) of feeling like an outsider in her own neighborhood, she preferred this life to her old one. Many of her friends had simply abandoned her, it was as if she had the plague and may be contagious, some had just tired of trying to chase her down but she still had one or two she saw on a fairly regular basis - they were tried and true and had been to hell and back with her. One, in particular, Suki, was always after Ann to get back "on the circuit," and she had given Ann a day of beauty for her birthday, to encourage her - hair, nails, massage, the works. Ann hadn't used the gift certificate yet and it was probably about to expire. Ann's hair had gone back to its original color, a nice, darker blond and without all of the chemicals, it was healthier than it had been since college, probably. It was wavy and fell around her shoulders, but most days, she drew it away from her face and her blue eyes became more prominent. Between the weight loss and the darker hair, her high cheekbones had reemerged too. She knew she looked different but she wasn't sure, at all, that it was better, despite people's comments when they saw her. She figured people were just being kind because of her circumstances.
As Ann dumped the bags onto the center island in the kitchen, she heard the dripping of water but it took her a moment to realize that the water was actually pouring in from the top sill of one of the windows in the den. She couldn't believe it. Where the hell was that water actually coming from? She ran upstairs, into her bedroom, the room above the den, to see if it might be running down from there, somehow. Nothing. She was completely panicked and wasn't even sure who to call first.
Ann tried to reach her builder first. He suggested calling her plumber, John Robinson. The plumber told her that he was swamped with calls, due to all the flooding, and he wouldn't be able to get out there for at least a couple of days. He said the best he could do was to recommend a friend of his, Michael Sexton. He told her that Michael wasn't exactly a licensed plumber but he could probably handle something like this, he had refurbished a lot of old houses, that was his specialty, so he was sure he could handle her problem. He could at least help her out until a professional could get there.
"It won't hurt to call him, Ann, and he is a really great guy, to boot."
She placed the call immediately to Michael. Michael sounded very calm, cool and collected - especially compared to the panic in Ann's voice. He said he could be there within about 15 minutes. He was just in the area picking up some supplies, and he would swing by to take a look.
"Thank you," said Ann, "I am beyond grateful."
"Don't worry, Ann," said Michael, "I will take care of you."
Ann hung up the call thinking it was a bit odd that he was so presumptuous. First off, he called her by her first name and secondly, he told her that he would take care of her.
Ann stuck a bunch of pans under the leak, along with some beach towels, and took a few minutes to actually look in a mirror, apply some mascara and lipstick - remembering her mother's words, "a woman should never leave the house without a touch of mascara and some lipstick on." She realized the irony, of course, she was doing it for the first time in ages and staying in the house, but so be it - her mother would be proud. Michael Sexton, Michael Sexton - she kept going over the name in her head, for some reason the name sounded familiar but she didn't know why.
Fifteen minutes to the second, Ann's doorbell rang. It was Michael - "the greek god, also known as Michael Sexton" was the banner that should have been flashing across his forehead in large neon letters. Geez, it would have been nice if John, her plumber, had filled her in on some of the details. Michael was about 6'4", probably 210 lbs., dark curly hair, light blue eyes and olive-skinned. He was wearing a white t-shirt with blue jeans and her knees almost buckled when she opened the door. She had to grab onto the radiator that stands next to the front door. He was wearing, of all things, a yellow parka to stay dry. He looked as beautiful as she could remember anyone looking in a slicker. God, it was all just so cliched, she thought to herself. Lonely housewife, contractor. Ann didn't care, he was the quintessential fantasy handyman.
"Hi, I'm here to solve your problems," Michael said, holding out his wet hand for her to shake. He had a canvas bag of tools in his left hand.
"Oh, uh, wow, great...I mean, that is so nice to hear...really? You are going to solve all of my problems? Well, c'mon in, then!" Ann said, trying to shake his hand, trying to sound light and breezy and not speechless, and forcing herself to look away from his face and eyes and smile and body. Does it get any better than this coming in the front door? she thought to herself. I think not!
Ann stepped back out of the doorway and let Michael pass her. She actually sniffed the air after he walked past. He entered her home, looking around, surmising the place. She was surmising him, from behind- he had a perfect ass, perfect back, and perfect legs. He had the kind of curly hair that begs you to run your fingers through it - at least it was calling out to Ann, "dance your fingers in me, please." After he had checked out the floors, the walls, the furniture and the moldings of the front part of her home, he turned around and set his gaze on her. He gave her the once, twice, three time over...making Ann blush from toes to tip. She was stunned, unsure of what to say, and when he saw her all flummoxed, he smiled at her, a million dollar, all straight, white-toothed, big shit-eating grin.
Ann couldn't help but smile back - while she searched for some piece of furniture to grab hold of, again, something to sustain her weight, before her knees gave way. She was going to have to start using a walker if he stayed around much longer.
"Okay, Ann, why don't you show me where the problem is, if you would. And maybe someplace I could hang this soaking wet coat."
"Hmmmm? What? Oh, right, sure, it's right back here, near the kitchen," Ann said, taking his coat from him.
Ann walked him into the den and the water was still coming in. She was conscious of his eyes on her ass, her back, she knew that she was getting the once over as well.
Michael moved over to the window sill and Ann found that she couldn't take her eyes off of his shoulders and his back, each muscle seemed to show through his shirt as he extended and bent. She had a difficult time restraining herself, not reaching out to touch him, just to put her hands on his back as he was examining her window.
Ann realized that she had to get out of there or she was going to embarrass herself.
"I'll be in the kitchen if you need me. Do you want some coffee?"
"Maybe in a little while. I think I know the problem and I would just soon get it fixed before it gets any wetter in here." He smiled over at her as he delivered the last line.
Ann felt the blood rush to her face as she quickly turned and walked into the kitchen. Certainly he couldn't have meant THAT, she thought to herself, no one would really say that. He meant the rain water coming in, clearly, but she put her hands up to her cheeks to feel how hot they were and figured she would have to steer clear of him while he was in her house. As she hung his coat on a hook in the mud room, she smelled it. She couldn't believe she was doing it, a grown woman, sniffing the coat of a stranger but she wanted to find out if he had a scent. Definitely manly, hard to describe but every bit a man.
She opened the refrigerator door and stuck her face in the cool air, pretending as though she were searching for something. It felt good, like a slap in the face, which she desperately needed. She was reminded of that old commercial, "Thanks, I needed that!"
"I should be able to have it fixed within the hour," he yelled into her.
"You are officially my new best friend, Michael," Ann responded, a quip she might throw out here and there to friends of hers who had helped her out in the past but she shouldn't have said something like that so off-handedly to him. She needed to get out into civilization more. This was a wake-up call.
"Well, let me get this fixed first, and then we can talk about our friendship," he said.
Ann began to blush again, while he laughed. He was well aware of the effect he was having on her. He probably did this all day to women in the neighborhood, just drove around, flirting, making them blush, sending them into the cool air of their refrigerators.
Ann tried to busy herself with getting her groceries put away and tried to remember if she had anything at all in her closet which might make her look less like a teen-aged boy. She put on some perfume she found in her top drawer, something she had put away long ago. She could hardly remember how to apply it. Spray it into the air and walk through it? Spray onto neck and wrists? She decided that she was beyond pitiful. She sprayed some onto her hairbrush and ran that through her hair, figuring anything more than that would be too obvious.
Ann was back in her kitchen paying some bills and lamenting the lack of zeros in her checking account when she felt someone standing very closely behind her.
"I think my work is done here, Ann," Michael said.
"Oh, Lord, you startled me."
"My apologies, I didn't mean to scare you," he said.
When Ann turned around, they were dangerously close to each other but seeing as how she was standing next to her counter and he was standing next to her, she had no where else to go. She was, in essence, trapped.
"So, as long as I am writing checks for money I don't have, how much do I owe you?" Ann asked.
"Well, I certainly would not want to take money from a damsel in distress but this was a bit more extensive than I thought it would be initially," Michael answered.
"How much are we talking here, Michael. You make it sound rather ominous," Ann said, laughing a bit.
"Well, honestly, we are talking in the thousands, Ann," he smiled.
"Oh, come on. Seriously?" Ann said, "You are not serious, I can tell you aren't by that little smile on your face."
"Don't be fooled by my good nature. Unfortunately, I am serious," Michael responded, staring straight down into her eyes. He brought his face a little closer to hers and said, "Dead serious." His eyes were so blue that she thought she should be able to see right through them to his brain. He was standing so close and his chest was so large and she felt so girlish next to him, she wasn't too sure she could take much more of this. Ann told herself to pull it together.
"I take it you don't have that kind of money, Ann?"
"Seriously, Michael, what do I owe you?"
"Hey, I don't come cheap and I came over here, lickety-split, and fixed your problem. Heck, an hour ago, I was your best friend, remember?"
"Yes, Michael, I remember, but I didn't think you would take advantage of someone like this, especially seeing as how I am a long-time client of Robinson's Plumbing. John Robinson is the one who gave me your name," Ann was getting a little panicky.
"John Robinson doesn't know me that intimately, Ann, he doesn't know how I operate all of the time. So, what do you suggest we do, Ann?"
"Seriously? I owe you over a thousand dollars and you have been here roughly an hour?"
Michael rested a hand on the counter, next to Ann, making her feel further trapped. "Now, Ann, I find it interesting that you used the word 'roughly.' Don't you find that interesting? Do you think that was Freudian or completely unintentional? Do you know what I think? I think it was your subconscious speaking for you. I think what you want is for me to take control of this situation, to figure out some way to help you pay off your debt to me. Is that a possibility?"
Michael leaned down to kiss Ann, not immediately and not roughly, but gently and slowly, waiting for her to invite him in. He bent his head towards hers, slipping his hand behind her neck, lifting her head up to meet his, he rubbed his nose softly against hers, smiling at her, parting his lips just a bit and she parted hers to meet his but before bringing their lips together, he pulled back, frustrating Ann. He used his free hand to push her hips against his hips, and Ann immediately felt his hardness against her. He was making it clear, this was not about a kiss.
Michael's eyes met with Ann's and he smiled, an agreement, of sorts, was made. He was looking for her to give him the okay. Then he raised her head again and met her lips with his. His tongue dove deep into hers, searching and exploring hers for the first time, he went full out, and seeing as how he had a good six inches on her, height-wise, she felt dwarfed in his arms. She liked it, she felt malleable yet safe - safe, for the first time in ages.
Ann couldn't remember the last time she had been even touched by a man, much less kissed. It would have been the last time her husband made love to her, so it was at least a couple of years ago - kissed, touched, sex, it was all probably the same time. She thought her body might just melt right into Michael's body, and her hands couldn't resist reaching for him - one went for those curls on his head and the other couldn't wait to touch his chest, to feel his nipples stand erect as she rubbed her fingers all over his upper body, his shoulders, his neck. God, this felt good. She could feel the wetness between her legs and Ann knew that she needed to restrain herself but she really just wanted to grab for his crotch, to rip off his belt...Ann had no idea how much she had missed being touched and kissed. She didn't mind paying off her debt like this, not one little bit.
Michael's hands went to Ann's breasts, kneading them first, then becoming more forceful. With no brassiere, her nipples became erect immediately, and he could sense the effect his kisses were having on Ann. He couldn't help but tease them, pinching and pulling them. Ann thought she was going to go nuts. She was practically clawing at Michael. She was moaning so loudly that she felt embarrassed at her own behavior and her aggressiveness, yet she seemed unable to control or contain herself and in reality, she had no interest in doing so. It was as if the devil and the angel on her shoulders were having it out but clearly, the devil was winning here, "you have been good too f-ing long, Ann, go for it," the devil was saying and Ann was doing just that. She was groaning and grinding her hips against his, meeting his timing. She felt like a wanton woman for the first time in her life.
"Okay, Ann, time to start working for your money," Michael said, pulling away from her and pushing her down to her knees.
"You want me to service you? Like a hooker or something? You've got to be kidding me? Who do you think you are dealing with? Who do you think you are?" Ann was shocked and insulted, at the same time, questions kept pouring out of her mouth, until she was being yanked up to her feet as quickly as she had been pushed down to her knees. Michael was now bending her over the counter of her kitchen island. Ann could feel the little hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Michael leaned over her body, putting the full weight of his body onto hers, his mouth was right on her ear, so she could feel the heat and the moisture as he spoke to her.
"I will tell you who I am. I am Michael, the nice guy who came over here to fix your leak, remember? My guess is that you don't have the money to pay me, Ann. According to your friendly plumber, John Robinson, your ex left your for his secretary a while back. He left you with a house that has some rather major problems, along with a couple of kids. The word on the street is that you haven't been touched by a man since the old man walked out on you, and if the reaction I got from that last kiss is any indication, I would have to say, it is high time somebody began to take care of that, as well as some of the other problems around here. It seems to me that one of the major issues we have here is a failure to cooperate."
"Now, Ann, I have done my best to help you out. I have fixed your leak, and I, unlike you, operated out of good faith, assuming that you would do the same. You were only too happy to kiss me, let me fondle your breasts, I am guessing I probably could have taken things about as far as I wanted to but I would like you to at least lick my cock. Is that asking too much of you, Ann? Have you never sucked a cock before? I have done more than my fair share of the work here, Ann, I think it is your turn to step up to the plate, don't you? Doesn't the thought of having my cock in your mouth excite you just a little bit, Ann? Wouldn't you like someone to make you do some of those things you might not do otherwise? Well, here is your chance. You owe me and all I am asking you to do is to suck my cock. Agreed?"