The Lineman

No part of this work may be reproduced for distribution by any means physical, mechanical or electronic without the express written permission of the copyright holder.

This is a work of fiction intended for adult consumption only. All characters and locations are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Any individuals depicted on the cover are models with no connection to the work and used for illustrative purposes only.

Copyright Kelly Lovall, July 2020.

I hope hope you enjoy this story. Please feel free to comment. Thanks.

XX, Kelly

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A single drop of sweat trickled slowly down my chest, between my breasts. It tickled almost painfully. I held my breath and closed my eyes. It was excruciating but I let the little guy find his path over my skin allowing the sensation to persist. Finally, it reached my belly and was absorbed by the fabric of my dress and only my skin's memory of it remained, then faded.

I opened my eyes, smiled to myself and continued scratching a claw-shaped tool at the tiny, determined weeds in my garden.

It was early June and the sun was a radiant hole in a hot blue sky. It was a perfect summer Saturday. The heat was pulling tiny beads of perspiration from everywhere on my body. My skin glistened. I wouldn't be able to stay in the sun much longer.

I'm tall and fair and slender with long reddish blonde hair and a light spray of freckles anywhere sun can reach my skin, so I was wearing a broad, floppy straw hat to keep the sun from burning me.

A light breeze ruffled the brim of my hat and the hem of my dress, cooling my skin.

My husband, Chris, and I lived in an old two-story farmhouse on a couple of acres in a suburb of Chicago. We'd remodeled extensively when we moved in ten years ago so it wasn't exactly a farmhouse anymore but older than many of the houses in the area. The neighborhood was, once upon a time, a proper town unto itself, that was now slowly being reshaped by new development. Bigger houses, small lots, little kids and minivans.

I heard the misplaced rumble of a large truck coming down the road and stood to look. A lineman's truck pulled up in front of our house and stopped. The electric company had come to fix a problem we were having - "irregular voltage" is what I heard Chris telling them on the phone. Flickering lights and a clothes dryer that didn't dry clothes would have been my description.

I began walking toward Chris, waving my weed weapon like a flag to get his attention as he drove in nice tight windrows back and forth across the lawn with the lawnmower. He drove to me and turned off the machine.

"I think the electric guy is here." I said and motioned toward the truck in the street.

"Oh, good." He said, dismounted and strode toward the truck.

I watched him walk away, his thick, hairy legs protruding from dad shorts, his feet shod with flip-flops that audibly smacked his hobbity feet as he walked. His thick arms swung from his stocky barrel-shaped body in the way men do when they're on a hair-trigger to shake hands with another man. The corner of my mouth curled into a smirk. Men, I love 'em. I walked back to my garden.

The breeze felt good against my moistening skin. I was wearing a little floral print sun dress and brought my hands to the hem and fluffed it for some circulation then pulled at the neckline a couple of times to give my little boobs a breath of air.

I had been waiting months for a day like this. Warm and sunny, minimal clothing required. I sat down on my short garden stool to resume. It was the awkward position that all gardeners assume. Bare feet and knees wide apart leaning over to their task.

Within a few minutes Chris and lineman came around the side of the house. Chris was talking and laughing in manly tones. He guided a tall, good-looking guy past me to the little grey box on house that was mounted on the wall between a couple of hydrangea bushes. He looked over and nodded, holding the gaze just a second too long. I smiled from under my hat and he smiled back before Chris gathered him to the subject of the electrical box.

I realized suddenly why his gaze had lingered. I had pulled the hem of my dress to my waist to sit on my stool. The lineman hand undoubtedly, and unexpectedly, been treated to a view of my little pink panties framed by my long bare thighs. He probably had a good look down the front of my dress too. My nipples hardened instantly. Another bead of sweat began its journey from my neck to my belly.

The lineman was a young guy, not even thirty. He stood long and rangy next to Chris, sandy brown hair under his hard hat and a nice ass filling out his work pants. His arms were long and lean and tan, sculpted with work muscle and terminating at enormous, knuckled hands.

They finished their conversation and Chris walked toward me. The lineman turned to walk back to his truck. Chris started explaining the situation as he approached me and the young man looked back to me, undoubtedly, for another taste of the visual snack I was serving up. I sat up, arching my back, my hard nipples tenting the light fabric of my dress, my legs still spread wide. Our eyes met, he grinned and walked on. A thrill of adrenaline ricocheted through me.

Chris stopped in front of me and looked at my chest. He chuckled. "Cold?" He said.

I stood and straightened my dress. I stepped toward him and took off my hat shaking out my hair. "Not exactly." I said. I pressed my mouth against his and opened it, inviting his tongue. His mouth opened automatically and our tongues touched.

"He's cute." I said. My hand cupped his groin and squeezed. He groaned and began to grow. A tingling sensation swirled at the base of my spine. I was getting wet.

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Six months ago I had gone to Las Vegas for a week for the Consumer Electronics Show. Part of my job. What I discovered while I was there had changed my life. Our lives.

For the twenty years we'd been married Chris had wanted desperately for me to become a hot wife, he wanted to watch me with other men. I had resisted at every turn. He persisted. I refused. Over time we bruised and tattered each other as we fought about it and found each other disappointing. We drifted apart, still in love but unable to find our way back to each other. The conflict had nearly ended our marriage, or at least, ended the parts that made being married worthwhile.

And then, the day I turned forty-five, I met Marcus. My attraction to him was so swift, so overwhelming that suddenly I was forced to answer questions about myself I never expected. The feelings I had for him terrified me. I tried to push them away but something had changed in me and I couldn't stop thinking about him. I had to find out what had changed. I wasn't sure how Chris would feel about it but, I felt like I was in a marriage I wasn't living up to, that was coming to an end I didn't want so I went to Marcus. I explored where lust and desire could take me. I found how to live again.

After that, everything had changed. Chris and I touched each other almost constantly. In the weeks after Marcus we'd had more sex than in the last five years combined - three or four times a week, sometimes twice in a night.

One afternoon he came up behind me as I stood at the kitchen sink, slid his hands under my arms and cupped my breasts - a move he'd made a hundred times over the years. This time I arched my back, pushed my ass against his crotch and closed my eyes, my dish-washing-wet hands covered his, encouraging him to explore me. Within moments we on our bed pulling at each other's clothes as our mouths sucked and bit and kissed each other.

Normally his approach at the sink would have come to nothing but now almost every touch led to more touching. We looked at each other, we smiled at each other, we wanted each other. We were obnoxious and we didn't care. And when the looks or touches led to sex, I came hard and often and when they didn't, I would touch myself later.

I hadn't been with another man since Marcus. For the first few months Chris didn't mention wanting to watch. But lately it had come up again. We talked about going back to Vegas. We talked about going a local swingers club but nothing had come of it just yet.

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I squeezed Chris' bulge through his shorts again and pushed my tongue into his mouth. I pulled back, sucking on his lip and looked into his face.

"What's his name?" I said.

"This guy?" He said. Shocked at how sudden this moment, the moment he'd finally get to watch me with another guy, had appeared. I could see the tell-tale red blotches of horniness spreading across his neck and chest.

"Mmm Hmm." I said and stroked his erection. The tingling in my tailbone had spread up my spine across the base of my skull. A thumping knot of heat was growing between my anus and my cunt.

"Fuck." He said, exhaling. His eyes closed and then opened, looking into mine. "Do you think he will?" He said.

"I know he will." I said and grinned. I took his hand and pushed it up under my dress to the crotch of my panties. "What's his name?" I said. My heartbeat increasing.

"Oh Christ, your panties are soaked." He said. He reached up over the waistband sliding his hand down over my mound and cupped me, gliding a finger between the slippery and swelling ridges of my pussy. "Jesus." He groaned. "Where? In the house? Not out here?" He said.

"I'm going to try to sit back down here on my stool." I said, giggling. "You go over there and mow in little circles and watch. I have a question I think I want to ask him about our gazebo." I said. "If you want, you can come over and watch him answer my question." I said. I smiled sweetly, pulled his hand out of my underwear and licked his finger.

"Oh Jesus." He said. "His name is Dan." He was trembling, breathing hard and I could tell his throat had gone dry. "Okay." He croaked.

I watched him walk uncomfortably to his mower.

I put my hat on the bench next to me and pulled my hair into a ponytail. I sat down on my stool pulling the hem of my dress back up to my waist, and leaned forward between my legs to scratch in the dirt of my little garden. My swelling vulva pressed against the hard stool, I wiggled my ass back forth against it sending a shower of tingles into my tummy and legs.

Within minutes the lineman came around the side of the house carrying a tool box. I started counting. Three. Two. One. Glance. I leaned back and looked at him, laughing to myself. I gathered the fabric of my dress at my waist and pulled on it trying to cover my crotch but failing. I smiled sheepishly and pushed my feet forward drawing my knees together. I gave a diffident little wave, apologizing for my exposure to him.

He smiled and nodded and turned toward the box on the house. He stood still for a moment facing the box, his head tilted back, he rolled his shoulders and finally set down his tool box. He leaned over, opened it and began to move tools around.

I stood and gathered myself. My heart was beating fast, my nipples were hard and tingling delightfully. I walked toward him.

"Excuse me," I said. "Hi, my name is Daphne." I said, extending my hand toward him.

He stood and looked at me. I was a little surprised and pleased to see his face was blushing, he smiled bashfully. "Hi, um, I'm Dan. Good to meet you." He said. "I, uh, I have to ... I'm sorry about." He said.

His stammer was so fucking cute I would have kissed his forehead if I could have reached it.

"Are you blushing Dan?" I said. I put a finger over my lips to suppress a laugh.

He blurted a laugh. "Ma'am, I'm so sorry..." He said.

I put a hand on his hard, hairy forearm and squeezed. "Don't worry about it." I said chuckling. "It's just my underwear. Unless you saw something else." I leaned in and whispered. "Oh my God, did you see something else?" I said, with feigned embarrassment. Close to him now I inhaled and smelled his sweat and the dust and metallic grime of his work. I pulled back and closed my eyes briefly to let the aromas settle in my brain.

"No ma'am. No. Just your ... um. Yeah, just you're undies." He said, blushing again.

"Oh, thank God." I said. "I thought maybe I forgot to put them on."

"No, no, no." He said.

We laughed. I squeezed his arm and let it go.

"I do have a question." I said. "Kind of a favor, actually. You're an electrician right?"

"Um, yes. Yes." He said. "Well, I went to lineman's school but sure, I mean I couldn't ... But yeah, what's your question?" He said, still flustered.

"Great, it'll only take a second. It's over here." I said. I reached out and tugged at his hard, rough pinky finger, urging him to follow then began to walk toward the gazebo.

I looked back to see him following me. I glanced down and his crotch at the moment he was adjusting his bulge. The pulsing heat in my crotch was growing, I could feel the wetness between my legs as I walked.

"So we put this gazebo in probably ten years ago, about the time we moved in and we love it. The landscape has grown up around it so nicely but we'd love to have lights. We use solar now but they're, I don't know, I'd like something ... more powerful." I said. He was nodding. This was too fun.

"Yeah," He said. "They don't get very bright. They're getting better but ..." He trailed off.

"Anyway, I was wondering what it would take to run your cable or wire or, what do you guys call it?" I said.

"Um, you want power out here? Yeah you could run a line out here pretty easy." He said.

We got to the gazebo and I stepped inside holding my hand out inviting him to come in. He placed a heavy boot inside and stepped in hesitantly. He took off his hard hat and ran his fingers through a thick head of sandy hair.

"A line, that's it. Is that something you could do for me, run a line out here?" I said. "Do you do that?"

"Well, you'd need an electrician to come out and do that but it's..." He said, stepping further into the structure with me.

"But you're an electrician right? You could get power out here couldn't you?" I said. I sat on the couch and patted the seat next to me. "It's nice isn't it?"

He sat slowly, looking around. "Very nice." He said. "You'd need to get an electrician to come out here."

"I'll have to do that." I said. I turned toward him, lifting my leg onto the couch, my foot hanging off the edge. I put one hand behind me and leaned back and arched, momentarily pressing my tits tight against the fabric of my dress, then looked around. "Do you like it?"

He swallowed again and shifted against his straining erection. "It's very nice." He said. "Lights would be very nice out here."

He turned to look at me, his face suffused with confusion and arousal, unsure how to move, whether to get up, to excuse himself, or to lean in and fuck the hell out of me. I slid my foot across the cushion, raising my knee, pushing my dress further up my thigh. I held his gaze. He froze like animal caught in the onrushing lights of a truck. My heart hammered in my chest.

His eyes dropped to watch my hand slide down my leg to the hem of my dress. His lips part as he began to breathe through his mouth.

My nearly trembling fingers raked slowly up my thigh lifting the hem toward my waist exposing my panties. His eyes widened, fixed intently on my crotch, watching as if anticipating a sudden spasm of action - the pull of a trigger.

"Is this what you saw?" I said.

He looked into my eyes, swallowed hard and adjusted the erection bulging painfully against his work pants. "Yes." He said. "What about...?"

"What about what?" I said. My fingers slid down over my wet and nearly transparent, panties and began slowly tracing the contours just beneath the fabric, outlining the lips of my pussy. "I want you to fuck me." I said, my heart hammering wildly. His mouth opened, the click of the trigger he'd been anticipating.

His eyes flicked up to meet mine smiling back at him. He was a pillar in torment, wracked by a boiling admixture of chemicals compelling him to breed, restrained by the unknown consequences of taking me.

He tore his gaze away from me and surveyed his surroundings like a wild, hungry animal preparing to eat. "What about your husband?" He said.

I lifted my head and looked around. "I don't think anyone can see us." I said. I slipped my hand inside my panties and began sliding a finger through the wet folds of my labia. I moaned at the sensation. His eyes locked again on my crotch and he inhaled deeply smelling my sex.

He stood and faced me, looking around again. The full contour of his erection was visible now, trapped under the denim of his pants, a little arm of blood and muscle and carnality ready for work. The hot, pulsing knot low in my spine was threatening to spill.

My fingers continued to play under the fabric of my underwear as I looked up at him. "Quite a bulge you have." I said, my eyes lowering to his crotch and back to his blushing face. I could feel an orgasm beginning to gather.

"I should go." He said, fastened to the spot.

"You can't go back to work like that." I said. I pulled my fingers out of me and turned toward him, sliding forward on the cushion, smiling up at him. "Come here." I said.

He looked down at me, my long creamy legs spread apart, my dress gathered at my waist, face turned up to him. I slid one hand under my breast, cupping and squeezing and extended the other, my fingers waving him toward me. He hesitated, then in two short, heavy steps he was in front of me breathing hard.

I reached out and ran my hand flatly over the outline of his hard cock and looked up into his face. He sucked breath between his teeth and held his hands behind his back.

"Wow." I said, my palm rubbing along the length of his erection, my fingers squeezing against the outline. "It's very hard." I chuckled softly. "Can I see it?"

He looked down into my face, his eyes were dark with the struggle between his looming intention and fading control. His mouth was open and breathing heavily. Slowly, his hand came to the buckle of his tool belt. He opened the clasp and set the heavy belt on the wooden floor of the gazebo with a thud. Then his fingers began to open the other belt and I reached up to take over. He took his hands away, not knowing where to put them.

I opened the belt, unbuttoned his pants and tugged down on the zipper straining to hold his pants together. My breathing was coming in short, heavy breaths. I began to slowly pull open the flaps of his waistband. He lifted his shirt out of the way and I could see the thick trail of hair around his belly button leading under his waistband to his groin.

Then, in the corner of my eye I saw Chris standing outside the gazebo between two bushes. His eyes were wide, his mouth was open and our eyes met. I flashed him a mischievous grin.

I placed my hands on Dan's flat lower tummy then slid them around his waist feeling his warm skin. I looked up into the same dark eyes and smiled. A thin grin stretched his lips and faded. This guy was barely holding back.

There was no way to get it out like this. I began to tug at his pants. He stood stock still as I pulled and yanked, finally getting them over his hips and buttocks until he was fully revealed. I curled my fingers around the shaft and squeezed. He made a guttural grunt as the thick, hard fingers of one hand encircled my head coming to rest under my pony tail.

His cock stood straight out. The circumcised head was beautifully ridged and already leaking copious amounts of pre-seminal fluid. It looked like it belonged on a cock not quite this big. The long shaft became very thick just back from the head. I wrapped my fingers completely around the base and leaned forward to kiss the tip. I slid my lips side to side over the head, lubricating them with a drop of his anticipatory fluid. His aroma was thick with the odor of perspiration and groin. A shower of tingles burst low in my belly at the smell.