Tracy and the Plumber

"Hi, are you the plumber?" Tracy Willows asks anxiously as she opens the door. It's early in the morning and the neighborhood is still waking up. "Thank god, you're finally here."

"Hello, Ma'am." Steve Pope answers with a smile, his eyes running over the older woman quickly. Nice, He thinks to himself as he notes her slender body and attractive face. "I came as early as I could to fix your sink. Just show me where it is and I should have it working in no time."

"Sure... please follow me..." Tracy says, opening the door wider for him, wondering if it was just her imagination or had this young man really just checked out her body. She knew she was still considered an attractive woman but something about having a young man, probably only a few years older then her own son, admiring her made her uncomfortable.

Steve smiles encouragingly as he steps into her nicely furnished house, "This is a nice house, Mrs. Willows. Very nice," He notes as she leads him into the kitchen, his eyes running over her figure one more time before she turns to him, motioning towards the sink with a look of aggravation.

"Thank you," Tracy responds, watching the young plumber carefully. Something about his tone made her think he wasn't talking about her house. Unconsciously her hand pulled the lapels of her dark blue blazer together, covering the white silk blouse beneath it as she turned back towards the sink.

"So what seems to be the problem?" Steve asked, his eyes running over her hips and down her legs, admiring the shape of her calves below the knee length skirt she wore. Hmm, what a MILF, Steve thought to himself as he stepped up closer behind her to look into the sink over her shoulder.

"Well... I don't know... the sink can't drain anything at all since last night - it drives me crazy...!" Mrs. Willows told him, almost jumping in surprise at suddenly finding him standing so close to her.

"I'll take a look at the drain," Steve assures her, opening the cabinet under the sink, and lying down on his back his head and shoulders under the sink. "Can you do me a favor and turn the water on?" He asks as he starts to check all the fittings on the drain pipes. "Uh, Yeah, sure..." Tracy agrees, having to step over his waist and lean forward to reach the faucet. "How's that?" She asked as she straddled his waist and turned on the water.

"Just about perfect," Steve mumbles to himself, his eyes running up her legs from the open toed heels up. Scooting backwards slightly, he was able to see all of her legs, disappearing up under the hem of her skirt. "Perfect," He repeats softly to himself as he sees the light blue panties hidden in the shadows of her skirt.

"What?" Mrs. Willows asks, glancing down at the young plumber only to see him peeking up her skirt. Tracy felt her cheeks heat up as she blushed furiously, quickly stepping over him and pressing her legs together. God, did he see anything? The wife and mother wondered as she tried to hide her embarrassment. "Did... did you find the problem?" She asked softly, avoiding his gaze as he stands up.

"Hmm, I can't see anything wrong down here." Steve admits, cursing himself for being caught looking up her skirt although he wonders about her not chastising him about it. Moving closer to the sink, closer to her until his body was tight against hers inhaling the soft fragrance of her perfume. "Although I did see something I should get a closer inspection of," He tells her softly, his hand seeming to brush innocently against the soft mound of her ass. "What... what do you mean, I... I... don't understand..." Tracy asks in a dry and shaking voice, uncomfortable at having him so near, her blush redoubling as she feels his hand brush against her rear.

"I need a closer inspection of the drain fittings but it's kind of a two man job to take it apart. Could you hold the pipes for me as I take them apart?" He asks innocently as he steps away again, his nose full of her scent as he lays back on the floor, sliding under the sink. "My assistant would normally do it, but he's sick today."

"Hmmm... okay... How... hmmm... how do you want me to do it...?"

"Well, Mrs. Willows, if you stand with a foot on either side of my body and just sort of squat down, you should be able to get a hold of the pipes." He suggests, hoping she'll do as he asks. "The only other way would be for you to lay down under the sink with me, and I don't want to dirty your suit."

"O...okay," Tracy says as she squats down over his prostate body, one foot on either side of his chest as she leans forward, her hands holding the shiny steel drain. She tries to keep her knees close together, her thighs pressed tight to each other but the position makes it almost impossible. Please God, don't let him be staring up at me, Tracy prayed silently, avoiding looking down at the young man beneath her as she can almost feel his lecherous gaze running over her thighs like a caressing hand.

Steve can't help but smile as the attractive older woman straddles him, her knees tight together but slowly spreading wider apart the longer she remains in that position. He starts loosening the fittings one by one, his eyes frequently glancing over at Mrs. Willows' legs, watching them slowly spread until the light blue of her panties is visible again. His eyes admire the mounded shape of her pussy through the thin cotton until all thoughts of the stuck drain are forgotten. His tongue licks his suddenly dry lips as he tries to picture the folds of skin, the damp pink place hidden behind those cotton panties.

"So... how... how bad is it...?? Mr. Pope...?? Do I still need to hold it...?" Mrs. Willows asks after a few minutes of silence, the young plumber not seeming to be doing anything although she can still feel his lustful gaze on her most private of areas.

"Huh? Oh, it's not that bad, Mrs. Reed." He says, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from her panties and turning his attention back to the drain pipe. "I should be able to fix it in a jiffy," He assures her, his hands taking the pipes out of her hands and laying them down, cleaning them out quickly before handing them back to his reluctant assistant. "Don't worry, Mrs. Reed, it's got my undivided attention." He lies easily, his eyes drawn back up her skirt, as she holds the pipes up for him to tighten again. Normally it would only take a few seconds for Steve to retighten the fittings but he intentionally drew the job out longer, his lust growing for the mature women that was squatting over him.

Tracy knew where his eyes were, what he was seeing but couldn't do anything but hold the pipes as he directed and hope he'd finish soon. Unable to look at him, Mrs. Willows turned her head, her teeth biting into her lip in shame as she knew the young man was examining the inside secret space of her skirt, the place only her husband had ever seen. The conservative wife and mother wanted to cry out at being humiliated and embarrassed by this strange man.

"There, all done." Steve announced as he tightened the last piece of pipe on the drain, glancing up at her face, seeing the blush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "Thank you, Mrs. Willows," He says, placing one hand on her bare knee as she squats over him, "you've been a huge help to me."

"Th...Thank you... Mr. Pope... so... so can I... let go of the pipes now..." Tracy asked, glancing down at him uncomfortably as she feels his hand on her bare leg.

"Yeah, you can let go of the pipes now, Mrs. Willows." He tells her with a friendly smile, "but there's something else you can help me with." Placing his other hand on her knee Steve holds her thighs spread wide as he openly looks up her skirt, admiring the panty covered mound of her pussy. "You know, Mrs. Willows, I've always liked older women," He told her with a smile, his hands sliding off her knees and onto the soft bare skin of her thighs, "and you are one of the best older women I've seen in a long time."

"I... Mr. Pope..." Tracy gasps, her hands letting go of the pipes and reaching up, placing them on the counter as she looked down at the leering young man under her. "I... I don't know... don't know what you're talking about..." She tells him in a weak shaking voice, her large blue eyes filled with shame as she looked down at him. "Come now, Mrs. Willows," Steve chuckles, enjoying the look of humiliation on the married woman's face as she squats astride his chest. "I mean I don't usually care what kind of panties a woman has on, but seeing those cute lacy panties you've got on is really driving me crazy. It's really very sexy," He told her, licking his lips suggestively.

"Mr... Mr. Pope... you... you shouldn't talk to me like this... Please remove your hands from me... I... I... am a happily married woman, please respect me a little..." Tracy told the insolent young man beneath her, her voice starting off commanding but ended up as little more then a soft pleading whisper. She sees the laughing scorn in his eyes as she turns her head away, knowing that she should move, should scream, should do something to make him stop but finding herself unable to act. She was ashamed as all she could do was squat there like a fool letting a man she didn't even know look up her skirt at her most intimate of areas.

"What I'm curious about now though," Steve says after a few seconds of silence, ignoring her plea for him to remove his hands, "is whether or not you're wearing a matching bra? How about it, Mrs. Willows? Are you wearing a lacy blue bra under that silk blouse?"

"ohhh... please... don't don't... Mr... Mr. Pope, you... you have no right to ask me, you have no right to do this to me that because I'm married..." Tracy pleads with him softly, her head hanging low as she looks down at her tormentor laying beneath her spread legs.

"You know, Mrs. Willows, the fact that you are married," Steve tells her in a harsh whisper, his hands sliding further up her thighs, "that just adds to the excitement of it. You know what they say about forbidden fruit? Now why don't you show me if your bra matches your panties."

"ohhh... god..." Tracy moans softly in shame, shaking her head slightly in denial of what was happening, her blonde hair hiding her face. "This is so humiliating... yes... they... they are matching... please... please don't make me show it to you...please..."

"Oh, Mrs. Willows," Steve replies smiling at her embarrassment, "that's so sexy, matching bra and panties. I bet your husband enjoys seeing you in your panties almost as much as I am. Now, why don't you let me see that pretty lacy blue bra?"

"Please... Mr... Mr. Pope, I... I... don't even know you... ahhhhhaaa..." Tracy moans softly, hesitating a few seconds as she looks down at him, tears in her eyes. "Please..." Mrs. Willows repeats, her fingers slowly open her dark blue blazer, unbuttoning the first three buttons on her blouse. "Don't... don't make me..." She begs even as her hands pull the silk blouse aside, exposing the edge of her light blue lacy cotton bra, She looks away from him, her tears running down her cheek as she can almost feel his eyes running over the soft mounds of her exposed breasts, hating him and hating herself for allowing him to put her in this position

"Very nice, Mrs. Willows," Steve comments, loving how the position she is squatting in makes her breasts almost pop out of her blouse. "Do all of your bras and panties match or was today a special occasion? Where you planning to surprise hubby with your undies later on?"

"ahhhaa... no... I... I... always have matching undergarments on... Please... this is too much... I... I don't plan... plan to surprise anyone, even... even my husband..." Tracy answers softly, ashamed at feeling the need to explain herself to this young man who was tormenting her like this.

"You've got magnificent tits," He notes almost absently, his fingers gently caressing the soft flesh of her thigh as she continues to squat over him. "So many women just let themselves go after they have kids, I'm glad you kept yourself in shape. It's definitely a pleasant change from most of the frumpy housewives I meet during my day."

"Mr. Pope... please... please let me go... you shouldn't... you shouldn't do this to me... please... I'm a respectable wife and mom... And I've got to go work now...please, I don't want to be late and let people see me like a mess... please..." Tracy pleads, her voice shaking as a sob escapes her lips, her eyes unable to meet his scornful ones.

"Oh, I think you're definitely going to be late for work today," Steve tells her with a mocking smile, his hands sliding up her thighs, pushing her skirt up legs. Bending his neck, the young man peers into the shadowed area of her skirt, an evil hungry smile on his face as he told her, "Oh, Mrs. Willows I like your panties, especially the way they hug your pussy. Why, I think I can actually make out your cunt lips through your panties. I'd bet you have a very cute pussy. Do you keep it trimmed, Mrs. Willows?"

Tracy closed her eyes, struggling to keep a sob of humiliation from escaping her as she slowly nods her head. Why? Why don't I do something? Why can't I make him stop? The conservative wife wondered to herself as she silently acknowledged his question. I should move, I must move but I... I can't. Tracy cries to herself as she feels his hands sliding even further up her legs, her dark blue skirt now bunched up around her hips as she squats over him.

"So you do keep it trimmed, Mrs. Willows?" Steve asks, enjoying the sight of the attractive older women silently submitting to him, answering his degrading questions. "I bet hubby loves pounding your cute little cunt, doesn't he, Mrs. Willows? When was the last time you and Mr. Willows fucked?" He asked, seeing her wince slightly in embarrassment at his personal question.

"two... two... two weeks ago... Mr. Pope... ahhhhaaa... I hate you... ahhhhaa..." Tracy sobs, her thighs trembling as she looks down at her tormentor again, her blue eyes filled with shame as she pleads with him once more, "Please... stop it... please..."

"You hate me?" Steve asks incredulously, his expression one of mocking innocence as his hands slide up to rest on the beautiful woman's hips. "If you hate me, Mrs. Willows, why are you allowing me to do this? Why are you submitting to me, answering my questions if you hate me so much?" He chuckles, enjoying watching the shame in her face as he voices the same questions she wondered mentally. "Your husband must be a damned fool." Steve tells her, changing the topic quickly as he turned his attention back to her panties, "If I had access to your hot little body, I'd be pounding that little pussy every chance I could. Now, let's get a closer look at your panties," He announces, his hands moving up to grip her by the waist, pulling her forward until his nose just barely brushes against the center of her panties. "Oh, Mrs. Willows," He mumbles loudly, inhaling deeply, "I can smell your hot married pussy through your panties. It smells so wonderful, makes me want to lick it."

"Oh... god, please... no... No... please... please don't... I... I...no..." Mrs. Willows gasps, her hands moving down to cover his as they rest on her hips, knowing that he is smelling her most personal scent, a scent she's never shared with anyone not even her husband.

"Hmm, Mrs. Willows," The young plumber says, his nose brushing against her panties as she trembles slightly in his grasp, "Does my smelling your sweaty pussy embarrass you?" I ask, "Does knowing that a stranger is sniffing your scented panties humiliate you?"

"ye... yesss... it... it does... how... how could..." Mrs. Willows moans softly, tears running down her face as she feels his hot breath on the thin cotton fabric of her panties. How can I face my husband... my family... again after this? Tracy wonders silently as she feels his nose brush against the mound of her sex. "Please... I'll... I'll give you anything you want... please, don't... don't do this to me."

"Oh, Mrs. Willows," Steve replies coldly, "I'm not interested in anything you can give me. Right now, the only thing I'm interested in is you," He tells her, stretching his tongue out to lick along the length of her panties. "ahhhhaaaa... no... No... please, not like that...!" Tracy moans out desperately, her entire body shaking as she feels his tongue slowly trace the outline of her pussy, the tip slowly, teasingly running over the cleft of her labia through her panties. "Please..." Mrs. Willows almost whimpers, her eyes squeezed shut as she fought her bodies reaction to his touch, hating the knowledge that this young man, this rapist was making her aroused, her body becoming sexually aroused despite her every intention. "Stop... I beg of you..." The humiliated wife and mother moans softly, ashamed as she felt the insides of her panties suddenly moisten with her juices.

"Mmmm," Steve murmurs in appreciation as she whimpers softly above him, his tongue swirling over the damp cotton of her panties as he tastes her sudden arousal. "Why Mrs. Willows," He comments, his tongue taking one long lick from the base of her labia slowly up until it runs over the soft mound of her pubic hair, "I'd almost say you were beginning to get wet from the amount of heat that's coming from your pussy. You wouldn't be enjoying this at all, would you? Not a respected wife and mother like you."

"No... I... I love my kids... I... I... love my husband..." Mrs. Willows moans softly, trying to deny the rush of heat that is rapidly spreading through her body, the wet moist need that his tongue seems to have awoken in her. "I... I... am happily married... ahhhhaaa... stop it..."

"Mrs. Willows, I never doubted you loved your family," He replies scornfully, pressing his mouth firmly over the mound of her pussy, sucking loudly on her sensitive skin through the now soaked cloth of her panties. "But judging from the lovely scent and taste coming from your cunt I'd say you're definitely beginning to enjoy this."

"I... I... don't... I can't enjoy this... You are... you're an evil man and you make me sinful... aaahhaaaa," She gasped out, her back arching as his tongue suddenly focused on the hard little nub of her clit. "please... please let me go..." She begs, trying to raise her hip up a bit to avoid his persistent tongue even as she longed for his caressing licks on her panty covered vagina.

"I don't think so, Mrs. Willows, at least not yet," Steve hisses sharply, his fingers tightening painfully on her waist as pulls her back down towards him, holding her tight against his licking and sucking mouth. "You're not going anywhere until I'm completely done with you, Mrs. Willows." He tells her once he lifts his mouth from the saliva soaked center of her panties.

"What...what do you want from me?" Tracy moaned in shame and pleasure as she feels his mouth on her pussy once more. "please... let me go... please... let go of me, my legs are sore..." She begs tearfully, the muscles of her thighs feeling as if they are on fire as her legs start to tremble. "Hell, I thought what I wanted from you was pretty obvious," Steve tells her with a soft chuckle, his hands sliding down over the soft flesh of her thighs, "What I want from you. Mrs. Willows, and what I'm going to get is to use your hot married body for my pleasure. I plan to fuck you, Mrs. Willows." He tells her simply as he suddenly lets go of her and sliding out from underneath her, stands up.

"ahh... no... no... I... I... don't deserve this... I've... I've done nothing... I'm a respectable wife and mom... how could I be humiliated in this way by a rude stranger in my own kitchen..." Tracy starts to cry, her shoulders shaking from silent sobs as she remains squatting in front of her sink, her hands resting on the edge of her counter as her tormentor stands behind her.