Ralph the Plumber

Ralph the Plumber

Everyone in the building knows Ralph the Plumber, heck, all of Florida. He's in his mid sixties with no family. He lost his wife to cancer two summers back. He is known to be a hard worker, drinker growing his snow-white obesity afterwork at the town's pool hall. Ralph is a walking sweat machine fixing many of the southwest's peninsula's broken kitchen sinks. He is gentle, quiet and loves Gary Larson comics and often sports The Far Side t-shirts while plumbing. When he fixes your pipes you can watch his huge belly shimmy below a drenched The Far Side comic pasted across his man boobs. I remember his favorite cartoon was of dogs but I could not make it all out to get the humor.

At 27, I drew tired of being single and found the 23 year old love of my life on an online dating app. My girlfriend Sarah moved in with after only 3 dates this past spring. Other then her resembling a five foot Angelina Jolie and having a bubble ass, her sensitive artistic soul makes me want to be a better man. She is as crazy as I. On weekends, after our shit-pay graphic design gigs, we both draw Manga comics out of tents in the middle of any local patch of woods we impulsively muscled into.

On our last trip in the everglades we quarreled over the leaking kitchen sink."Maybe you should give Ralph a hand job when he fixes the bathroom sink this Saturday," I said. I was stoned and compassionate maybe.

"James. You give him a hand job," Sarah said. "I will talk to him "sexy" while you do it. He won't know the difference."

We agreed Sarah to at least wear short jean shorts known as daisy dukes when Ralph comes over. I figure a grieving old obese man living in loneliness, and depression should see close up of one of the greatest asses in the 21^st century.

Ralph is here Sarah!

"How have you been Ralph?" I said.

"I made reservations for a cruise to the Bahamas," Ralph said.

"No Far Side t-shirt today?"

"Fuck Gary Larson," Ralph said.

"What happened? You used to love him," I said.

"You know, I just need to move on to new shit. He made me laugh with his comics but I am over it. No more of my time and money going there," Ralph said.

Seeing this more aggressive and woke side of the six foot five Ralph made me a bit nervous having Sarah walk around with her ass hanging out. For the first time I did not view Ralph as a hunched-over unassuming giant turtle but a vibrant younger man who could probably kick my ass in a fight.

Ralph examines under the sink. "You have a leak. And luckily I have the parts right here."

As Ralph stuffs his head and torso under the sink Sarah rises from the bedroom door dressed like a hooker in a tiny black skirt and red three- inch stilettos. She mouths the words, "I will give the old man a hand job, why not?"

I am totally against the idea now after seeing a volatile awakening in Ralph. The knocking on the door calls me to get our pan pizza. And when I return my stomach swallows a swarm of bees.

"You don't have to do that Sarah. Really," Ralph said.

I hear Ralph dinging metal pipes and breathing heavy. He lays as flat as a pancake on our kitchen floor no longer dishing out the small talk he usually does while working. Sarah's small hand holds a very stiff eight and a half inch cock while she mouths the words to me, "he will probably cum in five seconds, and this is healing, good idea, babe."

My hands are shaking as I set the pizza on the counter and walk to the tv room. That is the first time I hear Ralph moan. His moans will haunt me for the rest of my life I know it. I take a piss hoping that it will all be over and Sarah will be tossing him a some paper towels. But when I came back, it is so much worse. I walk in and Sarah's right hand is still stroking Ralph's cock. Only this time her lips and lipstick are smearing the head of his cock. I can only see Ralph up to his belly button. The rest is in the cave of our kitchen cabinet. From there he moans and drops his wrenches. Sarah slides her lips down until you can no longer see Ralph's dick.

I scream. "Fuck this I am going out!" I take our Land Rover and head out to the driveway. The sun is so fucking bright and when my eyes adjust I see "Ralph's Plumbing" across an impeccably clean white van. I think to myself: "Ralph's huge cock is in my girlfriend's mouth right now." I want to start the Land Rover and ram into the side of his van over and over until its nothing but metallic gravel. Outside I can no longer hear my girlfriend's tongue and lips on that plumber's cock nor his ridiculous moans. The sun is so bright on my forehead and I listen for a while as mockingbirds in a tall oak tree chirp chaotically. I think to myself, "It has to be over by now. My God. Did she swallow his cum, did it splash all over her face. I am ending this relationship! No! I forgive her! This is my fault!"

I open the door and the cold air condition chills my skeleton. Sarah likes the house to be sixty five degrees. I hate it. I hear clapping. What is Ralph applauding my girlfriend's cock sucking skills? It is far worse. The horror I see when I come around the corner.

Ralph is no longer holding wrenches nor is he tucked safely under the sink. He is squatting behind Sarah's pulled-up-skirt bare rear-end. Hs knee caps so low to the floor for a giant. Both of his monster hands cupping Sarah's tits. I cannot even see her tits. Just his old fidgeting monster knuckles. The clapping noise comes from Sarah's bottom. Each time Ralphs' eight-inch cock disappears in it, it wobbles and he moans like a wounded coyote.

Sarah knows I am there but she ignores me. Ralph too. They are both covered in sweat and his moans are so fucking loud I cannot process one thought. I run into the bedroom and close the door. I hear Ralph moan and the clapping sound for a long time. I lay in the pillow until I hear nothing but mocking bird out the window. Then the sound of dinging metal returns. Some horrendous laughter. Then nothing.

Sarah comes in the bedroom. "Ralph is gone and the kitchen sink is fixed. He said he can fix the ice maker after he returns from the Bahamas."