All The Same

I was doing a favour for a friend. That's all. The boss had asked Mike to do a special job in the country over the weekend and Mike said sure. Why wouldn't he? He'd get some good money from a full weekend's overtime plus travelling expenses. He was heading up there straight after work so that he'd be on the job first thing in the morning.

Unfortunately, he had a bit of extra personal stuff in the back of his ute that he didn't want to take up bush with him. Work wouldn't cover it if some lowlife helped himself, so Mike asked me of I'd take it and drop it off at his place the next morning. His wife would show me where to put it.

Why not? No skin off my nose. It was just a case of dump Mike's stuff in my ute right now and swing past Mike's in the morning. Take fifteen minutes, tops. So I said OK and we tossed the stuff aboard.

Now let me explain to you that when I say I know Mike's wife, Naomi, I only know her enough to say hullo and goodbye. I don't think I'd ever had a chance to really have a conversation with her, although I had heard her voice yacking away at a couple of do's we'd both attended. Naomi had a rather noticeable voice.

Next morning I fronted up to Mike's place and knocked. Naomi answered the door and I explained I'd brought Mike's stuff around and that Mike had said that she, Naomi, would show me where to put it.

She opened her mouth and started on me.

"Oh, right. Mike said you'd be around with it," she said. "I'd expected you earlier. I've been waiting." (It was only nine. How much earlier did she want?)

"You'll have to bring it in by the back door. I don't want you tracking mud and grime through the house. Make sure you close the side gate when you come through."

I shrugged, picked up the stuff and headed around the side of the house to the back door. Naomi met me there, still talking.

"Just bring it in and put it over against the wall there. Try not to bang the walls. The plaster chips so easily if you're careless. Try not to get any oil on the floor, won't you. Did you brush your feet? I've just vacuumed this room. Oh, you've got another load? Couldn't you have carried it all in one trip? Well, hurry up, I haven't got all day."

So I went back to the ute and fetched the rest of the stuff and brought it around, and wiped my feet, as per reminder, before I entered. I was reminded again about dripping oil on the floor, and watching I don't chip the walls and is that the lot?

I managed to break into her monologue long enough to say that's the lot but, unfortunately, not long enough to say goodbye.

"Well, seeing how you're here you can help me move the fridge back into position. Mike pulled it out of its cubicle yesterday so I could get behind it and clean it and it's too heavy for me to put back. It's this way."

Cursing to myself for not taking a quick get-away, I followed Naomi into the kitchen.

"Can you lift it and put it back, please?" she said. "I don't want it pushed across the floor in case you scratch the tiles or break one. It looks so untidy when the tiles get scratched."

(A heavyweight lifter, I am not. I was going to push the damn fridge back into place. I'll lay odds that Mike didn't pick it up to take it out of its cubicle.)

"You're as bad as Mike," Naomi grumbled as I slowly manoeuvred the fridge back into position. "I know it's full, but it shouldn't matter. It will be a lot easier for me if you just move it like that."

(Full? It was packed. She must have had a complete cow just in the meat compartment.)

"No, not there. Can't you see that it's not straight? It needs to be moved to the left a little. No, the other left. You men are all the same. Utterly helpless without someone to direct you."

Now Naomi had been bitching at me from the second she answered the door, and probably from the time she woke up and realised that I was coming. I'm not saying that she was starting to piss me off something chronic but. . .

OK. I am saying that she was pissing me off something chronic. I was initially doing Mike a favour, bringing his stuff around, and then I was doing her a favour, shifting her giant, overloaded fridge. And all I got was complaints.

"Listen, Naomi," I growled at her. "Ease up a little. I'm not your husband. I'm just a friend giving you a hand."

It turned out I wasn't the only one in a snarky mood. At least I hope that Naomi was just in a snarky mood. If she was like this all the time Mike had my deepest sympathy. When I chided her she almost went for my throat.

"You're the same as him. You're all the same. All beef and balls and lacking in brains. If I wasn't telling you what to do you'd probably have the fridge in back to front. You're hopeless."

I tossed a nasty look at her. Naomi was standing there, hands on hips and sneering at me. The day was shaping up to be a hot one. The sun was bright and shining through the window behind her. It effectively turned her dress transparent, showing her figure and it was a good one.

Now my only excuse for what happened next is that I'm just a man; beef and balls and no brains.

"We're all the same, huh?" I said.

I took a step towards Naomi, took hold of her dress at the collar and just yanked it in either direction. There's not much of a trick to ripping material. A firm grip and the application of some muscle and it's a breeze. That dress just shredded under me, effectively leaving Naomi clad in her undies.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing," she screamed at me, while at the same time I was dropping my trousers.

"Oh, my god," she yelled. "You wouldn't dare."

Then she saw that my trousers were off and that my erection was swelling rapidly.

"For Christ's sake, look at the size of that thing. How dare you show yourself to me like this? Get your trousers on and get out of here."

I simply demonstrated that her panties and bra were made from just as weak a material as her dress had been. Naomi was now naked and practically dancing up and down on the spot in her rage.

"How dare you," she was shrieking at me. "I'll kill you for this. Just get out and get out now."

I just smirked at her.

"Men are all the same," I said. "So it shouldn't matter to you which one is in you."

I think that is when it finally dawned on her that I might be serious. She started to back away from me but far too late. All she could do was back up to the table and then she was leaning back on it and her hands automatically went behind her to brace herself. This left her pussy nicely presented and I moved in and she started on me.

"Oh, my god, you can't stick that in me. Take it away. Take it away, I said. Gods, you're really putting it in me. How can you do this? Will you just look at the size of that thing? How am I supposed to handle that? Why are you taking so long to put in in? Do you delight in teasing me?"

(Actually, I was moving slowly to give her time to adjust. I'd sort of skipped the foreplay, after all. I just kept on going. So did her voice.)

"Oh god, oh god, oh god. You're really doing this. Just how much of that thing do you think I can take? That's enough, surely? God, will you just stop pushing? It's too big I tell you. Oh, fuck you. You're not listening to a thing I say, are you? Typical man. Get your cock out and you lose all sense.

Will you please stop pushing? I swear I'm already full of cock. I can't take any more. OK. So I could take a bit more but surely that's enough? Oh, come on, leave off already. Have you ever considered having that thing docked. Trust me, it would be a good idea. Just stop pushing it in."

Intermingle with all the chatter there were little squeaks and gasps as I slowly settled into her. She finally shut up for a moment when I gave one last push and finished my drive home.

Now that my cock was in place I took hold of her breasts and squeezed them and Naomi found her voice again.

"Get your hands off my breasts. And while you're at it take your cock out. I don't want it. Stop squeezing my breasts. Why are you rubbing my nipples like that? I said to take your hands off my breast. About time you took that thing out. You're going to regret sticking it in me in the first place.

Why are you pushing it back in? I said take it out. And leave my breasts alone. Oh, my god. You're fucking me. You're really fucking me. How do you think I can handle a cock like that? Slow down a little. How am I supposed to keep up with you when you move that fast.

I didn't say slow down that much. If you're going to fuck me you can at least do it properly. Were you a virgin? You sure don't seem to know what you're doing. Go and get some fucking lessons and yes, I mean lessons in fucking. Put that damn thing in as though you mean it.

Not that hard. Have you only got two speeds? Too slow and too fast? I'm trying to make the best of this but you're not really helping. Why are you doing this to me anyway? One moment you're all polite and the next you're fucking me like crazy.

If you bite my breasts like that I'll get bruises. Stop doing it. Oh, god, I can't stand this. How long are you going to go on doing this?"

Despite the running commentary I thought I was doing quite well. Naomi was responding to my driving and surging forward to meet me. I haven't actually shown it in the dialogue but her diatribe was interspersed with squeals, squeaks and gasps as she writhed under my administrations.

Despite her professed doubts about my size I wasn't really all that large and she was handling me with a great deal of enthusiasm. Too much enthusiasm for me to ever consider getting myself docked.

I get boffing her as hard as I could and she kept responding and complaining. I honestly didn't think a woman could talk that much while being fucked but Naomi did it easily. I think she must be the sort of woman who has to talk at all times.

The incessant yak, yak, yak had one benefit. At least I was able to tell when she was ready to come.

"You're moving too fast. I'm not ready yet. Don't you dare come. You started this and you can damn well finish it properly. You'll have to move faster than that. Will you put some effort into it, damn you. Can't you see I'm not ready yet? Do something, damn you.

Oh, god, you're moving too slowly again. You're deliberately stringing this out just to torment me, aren't you? Harder, damn you. Don't you know what to do? Oh, god, I'm going to come and you're still stuffing around. Please, pay attention to what you're doing."

What the hell did she think I was paying attention to? Here am I with a naked woman bent over in front of me while I pounded her with my cock. And she thinks I might be thinking of something other than what I was doing?

I just pounded her even harder and her voice died away to be replaced by an ascending series of squeals that crescendoed to a scream as she finally hit her climax. Me too. I sprayed her thoroughly, letting her have my all.

I stayed locked to her while she rode out her climax and I waited until she finally came back to earth. Eventually intelligence settled back into her, or as much as she ever had. Before she could open her mouth and start again I got in first.

"You might consider men to all be the same but it doesn't apply to women," I told her. "You were sensational. Truly one of a kind."

She blushed and just said "Oh" in a small voice.

"I'd better go," I said, pulling away from her and reaching for my trousers. "You're too much of a temptation for me to stay any longer."

Naomi blushed again and her mouth stayed shut. Taking advantage of the quiet I gave her a quick kiss and departed, leaving her looking after me.

I never heard a word about my little adventure. The next time I met Naomi at one of the local do's she just greeted me the same way as she greeted everyone else, although I think I saw a faint blush.

The one thing that I've always wondered was, does she yak like that every time she has sex or was I just special?