Air Conditioning Repair Man

I had joked with my wife for years about air conditioner repairmen, the origin of the joke going back to some reference to her needing a plumber and her rejoinder that plumbers just didn't have the image of other workmen. One aside led to another, and soon the mythical air conditioner repairman, come to quench the heat of her sexual desires, was part of our repertoire of sexual jokes. If Jackie was going to be at home alone and I got the opportunity for an afternoon liaison with her, I'd call and ask if the air conditioning repairman was scheduled for that afternoon. She'd say they would be finished before I got home, or some such comeback. It gave us a way to joke around in public without others knowing, and it did add just a bit of risqué undertone to our pretty conventional sex life. From time to time, after a particularly energetic lovemaking session, I might ask if she were that demonstrative with the air conditioning guy.

She might tell me that she was much wilder with him, or maybe she'd say no, that he always came too fast, or some such joke. I made no secret of being turned on by the thought of her having sex with another man, and I occasionally included it to ratchet up the thermometer during sex. She claimed disinterest, but she went along with it as the least of kinks she might have had to abide. She had no interest in my past lovers, exhibiting more jealousy than excitement at any recall of them, but she knew that she could put me over the top easily by bringing up some tale of her previous partners. Once, when she claimed to have run out of stories I hadn't heard, I mentioned that truth was secondary in the matter, and from then on, she seemed freer to tell me vignettes. I never ask which are true and which aren't – I think I pretty much know, but I don't want to know for sure, at least about some of them.

Inevitably, one of the cooling systems that feeds our suburban home died one summer weekend, and we actually did need the services of a repairman. I told her she'd need to make an appointment to get the system looked at, and she retorted, "Finally, he'll get paid for a visit!" We both laughed, and I went to work the following Monday, kissing her goodbye after seeing the kids off to their school buses, the routine of our mornings.

When I got home Monday night, Jackie greeted me with a kiss and a whisper, "Ask me about the air conditioner . . . later." She was smiling lasciviously as she said it, and it got me mentally aroused, wondering just what she had in mind. Later, I was reading in bed, naked under the sheet like I always sleep, waiting for her. She emerged from the bathroom wearing a white cotton ribbed tank top and a pair of loose gym shorts that gave easy access to her, a distinct change from her usual cotton pajamas. She crawled up the bed and knelt over me, as I quickly discarded the book and hit the dim switch (she much preferred dim light to bright, and I didn't want to miss this by being in the dark). Her breasts looked great, the cleavage brazenly exposed by the tank top and her horizontal body.

"So, tell me about the air conditioning repairman's visit," I said, leaning up to kiss her neck.

She let out an "Mmmm" as I nuzzled her and reached up to cup her breast. I felt the nipple, already hard, and felt my own hardness start to take shape. "No, no hands from you tonight," she said, removing my grasp. "That's too distracting. This is going to be my night to be in control. You just lie there and listen and do whatever comes naturally."

"Getting my hands on you comes naturally," I said, smiling. But I lowered my hands to my side, scrunched down so I was lying flat underneath her, and waited to see what she had in mind.

"First, did you notice that the air conditioner still isn't fixed?" she continued.

"Yes, and?"

"Well, Charlie says that there's some part that he needs to order, and he'll be back later this week to install it."

"Charlie, now, is it? And how did you come to this level of intimacy with "Mister" repairman?"

"I'll get to that. You should know that he got here just as I was getting out of my morning shower. I heard the bell ring, I was thinking it would be Cheryl, since she comes by at that time occasionally, and I didn't have time to really dress, so I pulled on a pair of running shorts and a tank top to answer the door."

"Not the white ribbed one that I like so much because I can see your nipples through it, was it by chance? Not the one you're wearing right now? And not, by chance, these very shorts that are so loose they could be obscene from some positions and angles?" I asked, my dick starting to make a more obvious lump under the sheet.

"Why yes, now that you mention it, coincidentally of course, these are the very ones! At any rate, when I opened the door, I got the distinct impression that he liked the outfit, too."

"And tell me about him so I can get all oriented here."

"Well, he's about 30, I'd guess, and he looks more like an older college student than a repairman. He has his own business with his own truck and a shirt that says "Charlie" on it – so there. He's about average height, like you, and he looks like he works out a lot – big biceps and shoulders. He's got thick, short blond hair and brown eyes and a tan, and when he smiles, he looks sort of like a younger Mel Gibson."

"A blond Mel Gibson! And you had him smiling – I'll bet! How'd you find this guy anyway?"

"Cheryl recommended him. I recalled her saying something about their heater breaking last winter and called her. She said I'd just love this guy, that he gives great service. I sort of wondered about her use of the phrase 'great service...'

"So anyway, there he was with his big leather tool belt on and his shirt opened a couple of buttons, the sleeves rolled up. He really looked sexy, and there I was, having dressed in less that I would have if I'd known he was going to look like that! I probably blathered a bit, but he came in and I showed him where the unit is in the backyard. Then I went back inside. That's when I started thinking about you and your thing about me and other men, and thinking about him and how good he looked, and thinking about how much you like this top and the way I feel practically naked in it, for good reason. Then I went back outside. I thought, 'Bob will like this story, even though nothing's going to happen.'

"Well, - and you'll like this - when I got outside, even though it was really hot out there, I realized my nipples were really pointing out under the tank top. That thought alone got them even harder, so I was really tightened up when I came around the corner to where he was working. He'd taken a bunch of stuff off – he'd taken the cover off, and he'd taken the insulation off around the pipes, and he'd taken his big tool belt off, and he'd taken his shirt off!"

I was going to ask if his big tool belt was a belt for his big tool, or just a big belt, but I didn't want to ruin the pace the conversation was taking, and I could see that her nipples were staying hard. I figured that was a good sign. I also didn't want to let the erection I was getting go to waste by altering the mood, so I rubbed my bulge into Jackie's hips from below, just to let her know her tale was working its intended magic.

"Mmmm, I thought that might be going on down there! Do you want me to stop so you can use that thing?" Jackie teased.

"No, I think that will wait. Don't let me interrupt – I'll just react naturally from time to time."

"OK, so there I was, as they say. He had his shirt off, and I had my nipples pointing at him, and I didn't even have a glass of lemonade for an excuse. I thought he hadn't seen or heard me, so I just stood there and watched for awhile, as he replaced the insulation and put the cover back on. There was still some part or another left, and he picked that up and turned to look at me, like he'd known I was there all along. I was just standing there, with these damned hard nipples, obviously watching him. So, I did what you might expect any self-respecting horny housewife would do when faced with such a dilemma. I blushed like crazy, realized it, and blushed some more. Then I asked him if I could get him anything, since it was so hot, then I realized how that sounded. Then I blushed some more.

"He smiled this killer smile, then he stood up and I got to check out his chest, which was just as good as his back, with a little chest hair, but not as much as you, and great pecs and abs. He was sweating a little, which added to the image. He kept smiling and walked over and stood just a little closer than business casual and showed me this part that I had absolutely no interest in. He said it was a something or other off the compressor or something, and that he'd have to order one, and that it would be in tomorrow or the next day. And he kept on smiling, and I kept on realizing my nipples were hard, but I'd stopped blushing by then. We were just flirting without saying anything even remotely suggestive, and he was standing there and I was inhaling his smell, sort of an Old Spice clean sort of thing just barely discernable, wafting about. I'd been spraying some Opium on when I'd heard the bell, so I knew I smelled pretty good that close up, and we were both just enjoying the moment. Finally, I asked him more specifically if he'd like something to drink, and he said yes, still smiling, like he knew there was something going on, which it wasn't of course, or sort of was, or something like that, dammit. He gathered up his tools and belt and stuff and followed me into the house.

"Since his hands were dirty, I offered him the guest bath to clean up in while I went to the kitchen. He went in there, and then I heard through the wall this sound like a horse peeing on a rock – deep and strong, you know? I never thought that hearing a man urinate could inspire thoughts, but that time it sure did! I knew good and well we didn't have any lemons, much less that I know how to make lemonade unless it's frozen or powdered, so when he came out, I offered him a beer or water or a coke. He took the beer, and I took one out for me as well, even though it was before lunch.

"Beers in hand, I asked him if he'd like to sit down, but he said no, so I sat up on the counter to drink mine while he came around and leaned sideways against the sink. That gave him a front-on view of me, and I of him. I think it was about that time that I realized how loose these shorts are and how much I might be showing unless I kept my legs together, but they were already apart – not really spread, you know, just apart. I really felt like if I closed them it would signal to him that I'd realized they were open, so I was stuck. Meanwhile, he just kept smiling at my discomfort and drinking his beer. Every time he drank from his, I'd check him out, and every time I drank from mine, my nipples would feel the movement and reharden. Then I'd look back at him and see that he was looking at them, or at my crotch, and he'd look back at me and smile. It was getting ridiculous, but the beer was almost gone. Finally he suggested he come back next Wednesday to replace the part, and I said yes, that that would be fine.

"I thought that was it, and then I finished my beer and he his. I went to get down from the counter, and he just moved up, took me by the waist and picked me off the counter, letting me down but basically pinning me between the counter and himself. I felt my stomach against his pants, his belt, and my breasts pressed into his chest and looked up at him, realizing I'd instinctively put my arms on his shoulders when he picked me up. He wasn't smiling anymore then, and he leaned down and kissed me, and I didn't move to stop him. He kissed well and long, and by the time it was over, he had his tongue in my mouth and his right hand on my left breast, which was feeling really good about then. I think I was feeling the start of an erection through his pants, which was feeling pretty good, too. When we broke the kiss, he moved back, and I just stood there in shock, but knowing I'd really liked it.

"After that, he left, without any further words. He'll be back Wednesday of next week, or I can call and reschedule that for when you're home too, or cancel altogether, or whatever you want. I think he'll accept it if I just tell him that was a mistake, but I'm really uncomfortable about being alone when he gets here – maybe I can get Cheryl to come over here for when he arrives. What do you think?"

I was pretty "conflicted," as they say, at that stage. I'd always loved the idea of someone else screwing Jackie, but in my fantasies it had always been on my terms, with my presence, under my control. Now that it was close to being a reality, and without me involved at all, I was distinctly ill at ease. I was also distinctly turned on. I pressed my erection up against Jackie's vulva again as I thought it over.

"Well... I think I wanted for this sort of thing to be something like a vacation fling with a guest at some resort - someone we'd never see again. Something for us to share, not for you and some guy who drives a truck through the neighborhood getting housewives to refer him to their horny friends. Not for you to have it with him without my involvement. I'm sorry, but that's what's going on right now."

"That's not all that's going on right now, though, is it?" Jackie said, reaching behind her to pull the sheet down from covering me, and exposing my cock. "Wow, it looks like you're about to break a record here, if this thing doesn't burst first! And purple yet – No, I'd say that's not all that's going on!"

"Well, sorry, but I don't know which side is going to win out here, just yet. How about if I put this thing away somewhere convenient and you tell me what you have in mind for Wednesday if I go along with it? Then, if that's a no-go, I'll just make it a point to be home Wednesday myself – I can just take a day off to guard the home front. Besides, it would be a crack-up to see the look on his face when I open the door instead of you!"

"That sounds interesting. Let's see, how about if I put it – ooh, and it's so hard tonight! – right about here?"

With that, I slipped into a hot and dripping cunt. It was obvious that she'd been about as turned on as I, and I could tell she wanted to fuck from the way her breathing sucked in when I entered her, and then returned to deeper than normal. I immediately started to fuck her, hard, from underneath, moving my hips so that my cock stimulated the aft floor of her vagina and continued up to rub her G spot on each stroke. I knew that was an electrifying stroke to her, and she started coming almost immediately, humping back on me, gripping my shoulders for support and gasping for breath.

I let her barely recover, then started it again, the same stroke, the same way, and with the same results. After the second one, she was panting and had collapsed on top of me. I loved the way I could turn her on to such reactions, even if tonight she was providing the fuel and all the sparking involved – maybe especially since she was conducting the movement tonight. After a moment of rest, I flipped her onto her back, rolling over on top of her without breaking the genital penetration. She wrapped an ankle around my thigh to keep me in, a trick of hers since she hated to let a hard dick get away. Hell, at those times when my dick was soft and slipped out, she always involuntarily sighed – another nice touch that was a compliment and which I loved.

Now that I was on top, I raised myself on my hands in an "up" push-up position and started a slow, deep thrusting. I was extra hard, and I wondered if that meant larger than usual as well. I wanted to get her up on a ledge, keep her there, have her wanting to leap off into another orgasm, but not let her do it right away. The slow strokes were working, and I reamed her alternately straight on and from side to side, trying to keep myself back from exploding in the process. As her breath became ragged again, I asked her, "And what do you want to do tomorrow?"

"I don't know – just fuck me tonight," she rasped.

"I'll keep fucking you, but I want you to talk to me while I do," I challenged back.

She didn't respond, so I stopped, not pulling out, just stopping. She kept fucking back at me, but I held off. She got the message.

"OK," she said, resigned. "I want to turn you on, and if that means fucking him, I'll do it."

I started moving again, but not as deeply, and said, "This is as much about you as about me. What's your desire or intention or whatever, if that's what I want as well?"

"I want you to fuck me forever," she said quietly, then continued, "OK, he did turn me on, and it was because I was thinking of you and that you'd like it as much as that I'd like it as well. If it was up to me and I knew it wouldn't change us, or that it would actually be something you'd want, then yes, I'd want him to fuck me Wednesday. I'd want to meet him at the door, dressed the same as today, so he'll know. He'll fix the damned air conditioner, and I'd want to be there when he finished and I'll say he should take a shower to clean up. Then I'll lead him to the shower, step out until I hear the water, then go back in naked to join him. I'll climb in the shower with him and take the soap and wash him down, and I'll soap up his cock and balls and see what kind of a penis he has. I imagine it will be circumcised and thick. I'll turn my back and let him soap and scrub me from behind like you like to do, with his cock pushing against my ass. I'll want him to play with my clit, and I'll want him to hold me tight while my knees buckle and he gets me off with his hands. Then I'll rinse us both off, and we'll use those huge towels to dry each other, and his dick will be standing out, and I'll lead him back into the bedroom and get him onto the bed, and I'll kneel over him and suck him off. I'll suck him like you like to be sucked, with a hand on his balls and one milking his dick, making it slick with my saliva. He won't last long with me sucking at the head of his cock and running my tongue around it, and jacking him off with my saliva providing the lubrication. He'll want to shift around to fuck me, but I'll keep sucking him, not letting him get away, and it will feel so good to him he won't resist that much, and then he'll cry out and come, hard. I'll swallow most of it, and I'll milk him with my mouth until he's soft. Then I'll ask him to get me some water from the kitchen. While he's gone, I'll climb up to the bedroom loft. You'll be waiting there and you'll have been watching, and I'll kiss you before I kneel down to suck you as well, but just for a minute. Then I'll go back down the bedroom and lie down and he'll crawl between my legs, lying between them as I'm propped up on the pillows. He'll eat me, and I'll talk to him about what he's doing and how it feels. I'll tell him to do different things, and all the time I'll be looking into your eyes as you stand looking down at us from the shadows. Finally, after he's brought me to an orgasm, or maybe two, I'll turn him onto his back and use my hands to get him hard again, so you can see. When he's hard, I'll tell him I want you to join us. If he says no, I'll escort him out and come back so you can come down and fuck me. If he says yes, you can come in and watch him fuck me first."

She paused, out of breath for the telling of all this, then continued. "When he says yes, you'll come in and I'll get onto my back, and he'll stick it in slowly. It will take awhile, because he's going to be really thick, but I'll be wet enough that it won't take too long until he's pushing all the way in and out. I want to be holding your dick while he fucks me, maybe sucking you at the side of the bed if we can work it that way. When he comes, I want you to climb on as he rolls off, and I want you to fuck me while he watches you. I want you to be as hard as you are now, and I want to let him hear me tell you how good it feels for you to be fucking me. I want you to fuck me fast and hard, and I want you to come inside me while I come for you!"