The Shower

My uncle is custodian of some high-rise units. He's a very efficient handyman, able to turn his hand to carpentry, plumbing, and electrical works. Only the minor stuff, of course; the sort of thing the average husband can stuff up around the house.

I, too, have competent skills in these areas, my father permitting me to help him around the house ever since I was old enough to carry his toolbox.

Those skills were the reason that I was tapped to fill in for him for a few weeks when he broke his leg. When I came to see him I was properly sympathetic, asking him how he managed to break his leg.

"Tripped over the bloody cat," he snarled. "Landed the wrong way and my leg was gone. Blasted animal."

"Where'd this happen? Maybe you can sue the owner."

"It happened in my own damn bedroom," he said through gritted teeth.

"Ah, I didn't know you owned a cat," I said. Actually, I always thought he hated them.

"I don't," he yelled. "I have no fucking idea where it came from, how it got in, or how it left, but it tripped me up, scratched me up as it clambered over my groaning body, and vanished."

"Unfortunate," I admitted, trying not to laugh.

"Not as unfortunate as that cat will be if I ever find it," he muttered.

I moved into his spare room. My uncle was mobile, but only just. He'd handle contacting any outside source we required to address any problems and do the general bookwork. I would fix any little problems that came up, letting him know if I considered a problem outside the scope of my abilities.

I wasn't overworked, although I was surprised at the number of minor problems that required a handyman that could arise. Sticking doors, broken door handles and locks, globes needing replacing that an old couple couldn't manage, an occasional washer needing replacing.

After a few days we got a call one morning that a woman's shower was broken and could we please fix it. When asked for a definition of what broken meant she said the bit that squirts water on you had come off.

It seemed to me that it would just be a case of screwing the rose back onto the shower. I took some plumbing tape to ensure that I had a decent seal and toddle off to look at the problem.

I knocked on the appropriate door, calling out that I was there about the shower. The door opened and a young lady was standing there looking at me.

"You're not the Custodian," she snapped.

"His nephew. He has a broken leg and I'm helping out."

"Oh, yeah. I heard about that. This way."

She turned and walked away and suddenly I was wondering what I'd got myself into. I hadn't really noticed what she was wearing when she answered the door because she was standing a little close and I was looking at her face while I talked to her. A very pretty face, with pouting red lips, bright blue eyes, and a shock of untidy blonde hair.

Now that she was walking away I could see more of her. A lot more. That thing she was wearing gave meaning to the word diaphanous. The material seemed to have a slight glow to it but it did nothing to impede the view of the interested observer, and I was very interested. Obviously recently out of bed (which explained the messed up hair) and equally obviously not wearing any underwear. (Unless it was a thong of the same material.)

I was like fu-uk me. Talk about a cliché right out of a porno. The pretty young thing meets the handsome plumber and lust takes control.

She stalked into the bathroom in front of me and snatched something off the bathroom cabinet.

"Here," she said, handing me the rose.

I took one look at the rose and knew it was cactus. Someone stuck a real cheap one up at some time. Probably a tenant pinching the proper one and putting this thing in its place. It hadn't come unscrewed. It had rusted off. A quick check of the arm showed that that was pretty rat-shit as well. Still, the socket at the wall was good.

"This is junk," I told her, and it was a real struggle to lift my eyes above her chest. That nightie was doing nothing to hide what she had and she had a lot. "I'll have to replace the complete shower. Fortunately my uncle has a couple in stock. I'll be back with a replacement in five minutes."

"Fine," she said, folding her arms in front of her, which meant her breasts were pressed up into even greater prominence. I couldn't help but look.

"What are you looking at," she snapped at me and I hastily looked elsewhere.

"Um, sorry, sorry, it's just the total situation has me confused. I'll be right back."

I bolted. Hopefully the silly twit would go and put on a house robe or something. She'd certainly flushed when she'd realised that I was eyeing her off.

I nipped down to my uncle's unit, grabbed the spare shower set, and was on my way back. Yes, she'd put a robe. Someone should find time to tell her that a second diaphanous item of clothing didn't provide much more coverage than the single item. It just made the glimpses all that more erotic.

"Be done if a jiffy, Miss," I told her, hurrying past and into the bathroom.

A heavy wrench made short work of unscrewing the old fitting and then it was simply a case of a bit of tape and screw on the new. Turn on the shower to make sure there wasn't a leak and I was free to go.

Almost. The new shower had one of those variable head roses and it was only polite to explain that to her and show her how rotating the head changed the way the water sprayed. She smiled, highly pleased with this new toy.

Then before I could actually leave she pounced.

"What did you mean that the total situation had you confused? You weren't talking about the plumbing job, were you? So what?"

I hesitated and she glared at me. "Well?" she demanded.

"How old are you?" I asked her.

"Nineteen," she snapped. "Get on with it.

I suspected eighteen, myself. Still, if she really wanted to know. . .

"It's a typical motif for a cheap porno to have the plumber arrive and be alone with a sweet young thing. Depending on the porno one of the following occurs. He promptly seduces her, or she seduces him, or he effectively rapes her, or she rapes him. Apparently it's surprisingly easy for a sweet young thing to rape a big husky plumber three times her size.

So here am I, a plumber, walking in on a lovely young thing who's standing around naked, and what am I supposed to think?"

Her face was red and her eyes were almost popping out of her head. She looked shocked and angry.

"Hey, you asked," I said before she could start.

"You, you pig," she cried. "I was not standing around naked."

"Beg to differ. Not only were you but you still are. You're not really going to try to tell me that you think that scrap of nothing you're wearing is covering anything."

"This is a perfectly respectable negligee set," she snapped.

"Acceptable, maybe, but not respectable if you have male company. Not that I'm complaining. I don't think any man would unless it's your father."

"That's nonsense. It covers me quite adequately and you know it."

"Except it lets me see that you have a small birthmark under your right nipple, which I can also see, and it's transparent enough to tell me that you shave and don't wear panties to bed."

"Shows what you know," she said, giving me a sweet smile. "Wrong on all counts."

"Says she, confident she can lie and get away with it. It's not as though you're going to have to prove it."

"Yeah, right, as though that sort of comment is going to make me show all just to score a point," she said scornfully, and I laughed.

"It's not as though I haven't already seen everything what with what you presented earlier, but don't get your panties in a twist. Oh, you can't, can you? You're not wearing any. Only reason I'd want your, ah, excuse for a negligee be lifted would be so I could spank your bottom."

"You wouldn't!" she exclaimed, sounding horrified.

My first thought was to say 'of course not, you imbecile,' but a wicked second thought came to mind.

"Why not?" I asked. "It's not as though you don't deserve it."

"I don't," she said quickly. "Not really. You're not going to do it hard are you?"

Just like that I was back in a what-the-hell situation. She'd jumped from 'you wouldn't' to assuming that I was going to in the space of two sentences. Goodbye porno. Hullo BDSM. Or maybe not. I don't really think she was into that.

"Not too hard," I told her, feeling generous. "I'm willing to assume that you didn't really intend to flaunt yourself in a skimpy negligee. More thoughtlessness than anything else. A simple paddling will help remind you to be more careful."

She was blushing prettily and biting her lip. I sat down on a convenient couch and patted my knee.

"Why don't you come and bend over and we'll get it over with. Then you won't have to worry about it anymore."

And that was the point where she was supposed to snap out of it and scream at me to get out. It was certainly not the point where she was supposed to walk over and bend over my lap, demurely holding her negligee tight against her bottom.

"Your name?" I asked. "I don't think it's proper to spank you without knowing that."

"Dianne," she mumbled.

"Well, Dianne, I'm Tom. Ah, may I point out that holding your negligee tightly over your bottom that way just highlights your bottom? It's certainly not hiding anything. So, if you'll excuse me?"

I pushed her hands away and she let me, releasing the negligee. I then pushed the negligee up, leaving her bottom properly exposed.

"It appears that you also told me a small fib," I murmured, patting her bottom. "You aren't wearing panties."

"Sorry. I'm sorry. I was nervous," she said in a gasping voice.

"And whose fault is it that you were in a position to be nervous," I asked, hand casually running over her bottom. Her legs drifted slightly further apart when my hand moved in that direction but I didn't take advantage of that fact. Yet.

She didn't answer and I decided that I'd better get on with the spanking before she came to her senses and told me to get the hell out of her apartment. I lifted my hand and brought it back down in a stinging spank on her backside. She gasped, and quivered slightly, but didn't protest and didn't try to move away. A couple more spanks, nicely spaced to spread the smarting, and then I slipped a small spank onto her mound, my hand cupping it nicely and noisily.

She gave a small yipping sound at that but no protest. Not only didn't she protest but I was prepared to swear she lifted her bottom higher, providing easier access to her pussy. I simply noted this fact and spanked her there again before returning to her bottom.

From that point on I impartially warmed both her bottom and her mound. (Who am I kidding? Nothing impartial about my preference for laying my hand on her pussy.) Her bottom quickly had a nice glow to it and her lips were swollen and flushed. She was also gasping a little each time my hand landed.

Not wanting to be accused of unwarranted brutality I called it a day (spanking wise) and swung her to her feet.

"I think that should suffice," I told her. "You now have two options. Option number one is easy. You turn around and run off and have your shower while I go home. Option two is even easier. All you have to do is stand there while I do everything else."

"What are you going to do?" she asked, a husky tone in her voice. I didn't know if she realised it but she was totally turned on. It's amazing what a man spanking her bare bottom will do to a girl as long as he takes a modicum of care.

Seeing she hadn't bolted for the bathroom I decided that I'd better show her.

"Take this off for a start," I told her, lifting her negligee and that excuse for a robe up. She raised her arms and I lifted the set over her head, leaving her gloriously naked.

"Birthmark," I gently chided her, touching it, "just under your right nipple." I touched that as well to make sure she knew what I meant.

"As to what I'm going to do next why don't you try to guess while I take my trousers off?"

Her face was a study in conflicting emotions. She knew what I was going to do and she wasn't going to stop me. Neither was she going to agree to me doing it. If I asked I'd get a horrified no, so I wasn't going to ask. If she really decided no she could say it of her own accord or turn and run away, although the way she watching my trousers go down she wasn't going to run.

My trousers were down and my cock was up, way up, and she was watching it. I finished stepping out of my trousers and pulled her flush up against me, my rigidity pressing against her.

"Lift your leg," I told her, patting her right thigh, but she just stood there, breathing hard.

"Do as told," I said firmly, giving her bottom a small spank. She gasped and lifted her leg. I helped her out by capturing it and lifting it higher, wrapping it around my waist. Now my erection was pressed against her pussy, the length of it leaning against the cleft in her flesh.

I pulled back a little, adjusting the position of my cock as I did so. The head of it dragged down along her pussy, seeking the entrance. Finding it I pushed forward, sliding into her just as neat as you please. The leg wrapped around my waist seemed to convulse slightly, pulling me harder against her, driving me deeper into her even as I pushed to get the same effect.

I had assumed that she wasn't exactly a virgin, just a trifle naïve. The rapidity with which I found myself driving home had me wondering just which one of us was being a trifle naïve. I filled her with one fell swoop, our groins mashing against each other. She gave a groan and her arms went around my neck while her other leg lifted and wrapped around my waist. Oh, and her teeth sunk into my shoulder as she bit me.

I turned around and let myself fall forward onto the couch, Dianne under me. She gave a small cry as she was crushed between me and the couch, my cock driving in just that little bit deeper. (Nice thing about that cry was that she had to open her mouth and I rescued my shoulder before she bit to the bone.)

Happily positioned, my hands closed over her breasts, and I went to work. I was quite willing to give her everything I had just as eagerly as possible and I was very quickly pulling back and driving in with a will. Dianne clung to me, flexing her hips and pushing up against me every bit as eagerly as I drove into her.

We very rapidly built things up to a fast and thrilling rhythm. The main difference between our activities being that I was silent, bar heavy breathing, while Dianne was a one-woman hubbub, raising the roof with her vociferous comments. I'm not sure what she was saying but the general trend seemed to be unqualified approval. The only words missing from her vocabulary were little ones, like no, and stop.

Despite the pace I managed to hold back just a fraction, trying to make things last. I was of the firm opinion that things this good should not be rushed but enjoyed to the last drop.

There are times when time seems to stretch and this was one on them. I have no idea how long I was making hay under a shining sun but it certainly seemed quite a while. Eventually an urgency in Dianne's voice got through to me. It seemed she was in a bit of trouble and needed some help. I started using that little bit I'd been holding back, surging forth to the rescue.

That's the moment time contracted again. I climaxed and so did Dianne, me relatively silently, her noisier than ever. Then we sort of settled down and lay there for a moment.

Next thing I know I'm flat on my back on the floor and a naked Dianne is standing over me, glowering down at me.

"How dare you do that?" she demanded. "I demand that you leave right away and I trust I won't have to see you again."

With that she turned and stalked off and moments later I heard the shower start to run. I recovered my trousers and departed. As I left I mused over the likelihood of running into the woman around the place. Highly likely, was my guess, as we were both living there. If we met and she was rude how would she react to a threat to spank her again? I wouldn't mind finding out, especially if we were outside somewhere. I wondered how adventurous she would get.