Handyman

"What the hell is this?" Tom wondered aloud when he spied the shirt and pants, hanging on a hook at the foot of the stairs in the basement. They were not his.

"Those are Jimmy's," his wife, Pat, hollered back at him from the laundry room. "He leaves them here and changes when he works."

Jimmy was the handyman, specializing in home improvement, currently painting Tommy and Patty's not-so-humble McMansion, one room at a time.

"Why doesn't he wear white overalls and a painter's hat?" Tom asked half sarcastically.

"That's not exactly his style. Too geeky," Patty said, holding a basket of clean, unfolded laundry against her breast.

"He has a style?" Tommy scoffed.

"Sure," Pat chuckled. "Trailer park grease monkey—it's all the rage among the unemployed set."

As she plunked down the basket, Tom grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close, rubbing his chest against her naturally oversize boobs.

"I think Mister Handyman has a thing for you." He slid a hand down the back of her jeans.

"Oh, yeah, can you see me with a guy who makes less money than I can spend?" She wiggled and let her butt cheeks separate to welcome his finger.

They danced a moment. Then Patricia unplugged Thomas's forefinger from her butt and pushed him away.

"Don't start something you can't finish," she teased.

With a sigh, he said, "I gotta go to work. Sorry, honey!"

She pecked him on the cheek and told him, "Shoo! Go on and get outta here."

The kids were gone for the day and when her husband left she was completely alone. The handyman wasn't scheduled to work there today. He had a roofing job and as long as it didn't rain he would be working that project all week.

Pat descended the stairway to the basement and paused at the hook from which Jimmy's clothes hung. She lifted his shirt by the collar and pressed it to her nose. She picked up Jimmy's scent right away and breathed deeply.

She savored it a moment, then nuzzled the underarm area, where Jimmy's perspiration odor lingered. She rubbed the still damp fabric against her face. Then she licked the residue from her clandestine lover's arm pits and delighted in its tangy, bitter taste.

In a flourish, Tommy's slutty spouse whipped off her tee shirt and bra and wrapped Jimmy's work shirt around her shoulders. She lifted his green work pants off the hook and spread them open. She stuck her face into the crotch and reveled in the environs conveying the residue of Handy Man Jim's sweat, urine, and semen. She wished he had left a pair of undershorts for her to eat.

Patty carried Jimmy's shirt and pants upstairs and took them with her to the bedroom. When she dropped her blue jeans, she found her full-cut panties damp and ripe. She slipped them off and lapped her vaginal juices as she reclined on the bed. Patty was clinging to Jimmy's duds like he was wearing them as she began masturbating.

She dreamed of Jimmy's superhuman endowment, a foot long and curved like a scimitar with a head bigger than her hubby's fist. Jimmy's cock is so large that it takes up to twenty minutes for him to climax, by which time Patty's cavern is open wide enough to garage a Buick.

For now, the dutiful wife and mother had to content herself with her hands, using one set of fingers to manipulate the silky flesh of her clitoris and the others to rub down her plump vulva. Just before she shivered in orgasm, she mopped up her thick juice with Jimmy's shirt collar and sifted it between her lips.

"I know you like my nasty stank," she told his shirt and pants. She was tempted to pee on them, but that might be stinky enough to arouse Tommy's suspicion. Her cuckold is utterly clueless and completely faithful. In other words, Pat can have her cock and eat it too.

Patricia jumped in the shower after she finished pleasuring herself and couldn't resist twirling her fingers in her lady left for a second quivering orgasm. Clean and sated, Pat spent the day tooling around town from the library to the mall and the grocery store till it was time for Tom and the wee ones to come home.

Jimmy the handyman showed up the next day and laid a coat of paint on the master bedroom before breaking for lunch. Patty served him scrambled eggs and bacon in her birthday suit. When he was done eating his meal, he ate his girlfriend's pussy. After he poled her bareback, Jimmy finished painting the hallway and Pat took a nap. She deep-throated his cock before sending home for the day.

Since the painting was done, Pat's handyman was absent from her house for weeks. She missed his magic wand and had nothing but hubby Tommy's six-inch cocktail wiener with which to tickle her fancy.

She made the best of it, however. She fucked him sore, but alas pined for Jimmy. Pat called his cell, but he never answered, though his fat cow of a fiancé did once. Pat wondered if the witch checked the caller I.D.

One day Pat was so horny she practically assaulted the Parcel Express drive when he delivered a package for Tommy. The PX driver was tall, dark, and Asian. While he initialed the packing slip on his clipboard, Patty shoved her hand down the front of her sweatpants.

As he offered her the clipboard to sign, Pat stuck her juicy fingers under his nose. He sniffed and licked her fingers as she reached down into his pants with her other hand. She ran her forefinger up and down his crack as she kissed his thin lips. She tasted his sticky ass from her fingertips and asked if he had time to fuck her. He mumbled and nodded y

Patty slid down her sweats and lifted her shirt, setting her titties free. Driver Charley—he said that was his name—twirled her pointy nipples while he sucked on his fat sausage. In less than five minutes, she sucked him, fucked him, and sucked him again. She tasted a hint of curry and pepper as his penis swelled in her mouth. Charley was very polite and gentle. She sent him on his way with a kiss and a pat on the ass.

The next week Patricia went for her annual gyno checkup. She stripped and sat in the exam chair with her feet up in the stirrups when the nurse entered.

"I'm sorry," Pat sighed. "I haven't waxed in a while." She was bathed, but her cunt and ass were hairy.

"Let's fix that," Nurse Tina said cheerfully. The RN seemed to relish dabbing shave gel on Patty's mons and anus, whipping off her downy fur with a disposable razor, and whipping her nether regions with a moist towel.

"Your labia look swollen," Tina observed, eyeballing her pussy close enough to lick if she was so inclined. "Heavy sexual activity?"

"No," Patty laughed ironically. "Not so much lately. Just my husband. My boyfriend has been avoiding me."

"You have multiple partners?" nurse Tina inquired while dabbing Patty's crotch and ass dry.

"Just two—Jimmy and my husband...Oh, yeah, and the PX guy. Just once, though."

Tina's gloved hands reached up and touched one breast and then the other. "Are your nipples sore" They look swollen."

"A little," Pat answered, wishing the middle-aged caregiver would offer her soft hands and a balm.

"How's your period?" the nurse asked as she messaged Pat's breasts with a medicinal crème.

"Late," was Patty's reply as Doctor Janet joined them in the examining room.

Before fingering Patty's free flowing pussy—she always came at the OB/GYN's office—Janet told her to pee on a stick before she leaves.

Patty already knew what the result would be.

Tina watched Patty get dressed after the pregnancy test read positive and asked, "Whose is it? Your husband's, your boyfriend's, or the delivery guy?"

"I hope it's the first," Patty chirped. "I'm sure it's not the PX guy, but it's probably my boyfriend's sperm. We fucked a lot last month."

"What're you going to do?" Tina asked somberly.

"Ha! Nothing! Have a baby, I guess."

"Are you going to tell your boyfriend it's his?"

"Yeah, but he's got kids with his baby mama," Patty said as Tina texted her next appointment date.

"Come see Doctor Janet monthly till your due date."

"In the meantime, I'll fuck Tommy's brains out. He'll be so deliriously happy that he won't even notice if the new baby doesn't look like our other two kids."

As she left, Pat's cell phone buzzed. It was her husband, Tom.

"Hey, guess what!"