The Workmen Ch. 02

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Her husband calls.
3.9k words
4.38
33.4k
10

Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 06/16/2014
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CherylOh
CherylOh
42 Followers

Lounging on the deck, sipping my Mike's lite, I lifted my body off the lounger and scooted my thong down over my ass, over my thighs, past my calves, and slipped it over my three-inched heeled sandals and let the tiny white fabric fall onto the wooden deck beside me. I was now naked, other than my sandals and the shell necklace hanging from my neck. Not really needing it, but doing it anyway, I pour a healthy amount of tanning oil over my body; over my breasts, my stomach, and my legs, and haphazardly rub it into my body, preferring the oil running down my body, pooling in all the hollows and valleys, as the sun beats down on it. I spread my legs on the lounger, allowing the rays of the sun to heat the skin of my inner thighs, the slit of my vagina glistening, oil pooling there, the rose above my slit looking as if it is on fire, matching the fire running through my veins. Taking another sip of my Mike lite, my eyes scan the glistening of my body, and even I'm excited by what I see.

Taking one last large sip of my Mike's lite, I place the 3/4 full bottle on the shady side of my lounger and lean back, my body facing south, towards the sun as it reaches its apex in the noon sky, but more importantly, towards the side of the house where the workmen might emerge. I close my eyes, my mind swirling with thoughts of what might happen next; my imagination apparently has no limits.

Images pass quickly through my mind, one moment I'm naked, holding a paintbrush in my hands, making large up and down brushstrokes on the garage wall as the three men all stand around me, all wearing only their shorts and boots. None of them are painting, their only concern is watching me. In a flash, in the blink of an eye, in the time it takes to fire a synapse, I am now standing in the middle of the large garage, the men now completely naked, their hands dripping with the white silky paint from the bucket. Their hands are caressing every part of my body, the cool silky paint beginning to cover every inch of my naked body, feeling it drip down my breasts, my stomach, and my thighs. A wet finger slides between the deep mounds of my ass. I raise my arms above my head, giving the men better access to my body.

An image of my husband invades my thoughts. He is sitting across from me at a fancy restaurant, he is smiling. My body tenses slightly as I ponder why the image has appeared. I consciously push the image back and am rewarded with a new image. Down on my knees on a paint smattered tarp in the middle of the garage, the four men (yes, there were now four men for some reason) stood surrounding me, their bodies partly covered with the white paint. As the images flash through my mind my hand, my real hand, slides down my body resting above the slit of my vagina, warm oil has pooled there. Spreading my legs further apart, my left leg now over the edge of the lounger, my left foot resting on the hot surface of the deck, I bend my right leg upwards towards me, my right foot resting just below my ass.

Leaning my right bent leg outwards, my legs are spread wide now as my two fingers easily slip between the folds of my vagina, while my fantasy hands sink deep into the bucket of the cool silky white paint, emerging from the bucket dripping with the gooey paint. My paint dripping hands, and I think I have four, are now vigorously covering the four men's cocks with the paint, my hands seeming to be constantly dripping with the paint as my hands and fingers explore every part of their cocks and balls, sliding up and down sinuous, slippery shafts that seem impossibly long and thick. My mouth opens as one of my hands pulls a thick long white cock towards it...

RING! RING! RING!

The sound of the phone startles me from my daydream. I am confused for a brief moment and then RING! RING! RING! I spot the wireless phone sitting on the table next to me where I had placed it earlier. Picking up the phone, pressing the green button I say, "Hello."

"Hey, it's me," I hear my husband's voice say on the other end of the line. "Just wanted to let you know I arrived safely," he adds.

"Oh," I say, still a bit dazed but coming around quickly. "Thanks for calling." I reach around the back of the lounger with my free hand and pull the back upwards, allowing my body to lie in a more upright position. My left leg still hangs over the side of the lounger, my left foot resting on the deck, while my right leg is bent upwards, my left hand now reaches forward and grips onto my left ankle as I close my legs slightly, trying to compose myself.

"Yeah," he quickly replies, "we're on lunch break." There is a brief silence before he asks, "So, how's it going with the workers, everything fine?" There is a subtle change in his voice as he asks the question.

"Oh," I quickly reply, trying to sound nonchalant, "yes, everything's fine. I brought them coffee earlier. They're busy in the garage painting." I then add, trying to sound concerned, "Do you want me to check on them? See if everything is going OK?"

"No, no! I was just wondering if anything came up." Again, there is a slight change in his voice as he asks, "What about you? What are you up to?"

I wanted to say I was inside sewing or something, but I thought he might be able to detect from the sounds on the phone that I was outside, so instead I say, "Oh just doing some gardening in the backyard. ...going to head in soon for lunch myself."

Just then I hear a sound coming from the side of the house and I see Jim heading out towards the deck. He stops at the edge of the deck as he realizes that I am on the phone - and that I am completely naked. He gives me a quick look as he is about to turn around and head back out to the garage. I hold up my hand and wave him forward towards me, and as he approaches the lounger I put my index finger to my lips in a 'be quiet' gesture as my husband now quizzes me on my attire.

"Wearing a skimpy bikini are you?" he asks in a joking manner, but I can tell he is not joking.

NO!" I say, sounding offended by the question, and at the moment it was true, I was indeed not wearing a skimpy bikini. I hold up one finger to Jim, letting him know I will just be another minute and point to the end of the lounger that lies empty, gesturing him to sit. Jim, wearing only his jean shorts and boots, sits on the empty half of the lounger, on the left side, where my one leg rests over the edge and as he turns his seated body towards me his bare lower leg presses against my leg, while his bare arm presses against my right upwardly bent leg, the toes of my right foot practically resting under his ass. The moment practically overwhelms me; a stranger sitting next to my naked body, his body touching mine, while my husband questions me on the phone. My breathing becomes fast and heavy, I can feel my breasts heaving as I breathe, the heat from the sun, or from my veins, begins to press down on my body, I feel flush, slightly feint, no longer composed.

"OK, good," my husband says. "Are you going out at all today?"

Jim adjusts his position on the lounger, moving backwards a bit and up closer to my body, his left leg presses more firmly against my own left leg that rests over the edge of the lounger, forcing me to spread my leg slightly. Moving my right foot now behind his body, my leg now only halfway bent upward, the long oily lower half of my leg now presses against Jim's bare back, forcing my right leg to spread open, Jim's body now sitting between my two spread legs. My mind in a fog, I try to remember my husband's question, something about what I was doing in the afternoon. I give him a partial truth, "Well I was thinking of going out to wash my car, but I didn't know if it was OK to leave the workmen by themselves."

Jim continues to sit on the lounger, listening to my conversation, but not interrupting or trying to touch me. I raise my finger again indicating another minute and then point down towards my Mike's Lite, requesting Jim reach down and get it for me. He gets the drink and passes it to me and I take a long sip as my husband talks on the phone. The drink is still cool, though no longer cold, and I lower my arm, placing the wet cool bottle directly above the slit of my vagina, it's bottom resting on the smooth waxed mound where the rose tattoo is affixed. My eyes are lowered, trying not to look directly at Jim, which helps to calm me slightly.

My right leg, which is slightly bent and pressed against Jim's back, now nervously begins to sway slightly from side to side, first to the right, forcing my legs to open slightly, then back against Jim's bare back. Lifting my eyes slightly I see Jim staring directly between my legs, watching as my legs open and close, open and close, open and close. A trail of condensation from the bottle drips down the smooth surface of my mound, finding the deep valley that is hidden between the lips of my vagina, it pools for a moment until I again sway my right leg outward, further this time, spreading my legs wider, the pool of cool water disappears inside the crevice as my legs are spread wide for a moment; the feeling causes a tingle in my body.

My husband tells me it is OK to leave the workmen alone in the afternoon. I have been giving him short "yes", "no," "OK," replies to his comments, having difficulty concentrating. I try to focus. "So what do you think of the workmen?" he asks, a hint of jealousy in his voice. "They looked pretty young to me."

Lifting my head now, staring directly at Jim, the young handsome workman, who raises his own head and stares back at me smiling, and I wonder how I should answer this question. I take the bold approach. "Yes they are very young." I say. "...and handsome too!" I add, smiling over at Jim, wondering if he knows who I am talking about. He gives me a mischevious smile back. He knows. So I add, "But I'm sure they haven't even taken a second glance at me. I'm probably considered ancient in their minds." Jim nods his head in agreement to the last comment and smiles. I slap his back with my right leg and give him an angry look. He smiles again.

Usually my husband does not like talking on the phone for long but for some reason he seems intent on continuing our conversation. I give Jim another 'just a minute' gesture with my finger and Jim mouths silently, "I can wait all day."

"Believe me, they noticed you," my husband says in the phone. "What are you wearing?"

"Just my usual gardening clothes," I answer vaguely. Jim reaches over and takes the Mike's Lite from my hand and brings it to his mouth where he takes a long sip. He then returns the bottle, but instead of placing it back where it came from, when my right leg swayed fully to the right, he slips the cool, wet bottle directly between my legs, the bottle pressed directly against my vagina. I close my legs tightly around the bottle as a soft sigh escapes from my mouth; I hope my husband did not hear it.

"Does that include that tight thin white skimpy top that has the pink AMI logo on it?" he asks.

"Yes," I reply, since it is the usual top I wear when gardening.

"And I suspect you're not wearing a bra under it," he continues.

"No," I say timidly, "but you know I can't wear a bra when I do yard work. It will get ruined from the sweat and dirt." Jim slides the bottle out from between my legs again and takes another sip. I open my legs wide, allowing him to place it back from where he took it, and then close my legs again tightly around it. Another sigh escapes across my lips as I feel the cool bottle tucked tightly against my throbbing vagina.

"Well then they've noticed you," he says, a harsher tone in his voice this time. "With that pink lettering on the front you might as well plaster 'Check out my boobs' on the front of the shirt." It actually sounds as if my husband is jealous, though that would be a rarity. He never gets jealous when men look at me, in fact, I've always thought he enjoyed it.

"I've hardly even seen them," I reply. "Only when I brought them the coffee, and every so often one will come out back for a glass of water." I then added, and regretted it as soon as it slipped past my lips, I think I was testing him, "And when I brought them the beers." I spread my legs slightly and reach down between my legs and grab the bottle of Mike's, letting it slide upward across the lips of my vagina, separating them as it slides upward, the cool wet bottle presses now against my clit. I leave my legs spread as I take a sip of the drink, letting Jim get a good look at my wet throbbing vagina before I replace the bottle back between my legs, then closing them tightly around the bottle.

"You brought them beers?" he asks. "Why did you bring them beers? They're supposed to be working."

I can't formulate an answer; my heart is pounding, and my breathing heavy. Jim has begun pumping the bottle up and down between my legs, pressing the bottle between my lips, tightly against my swollen clit. My legs open slightly, giving him easier access, letting the bottle slip deeper between my lips. It's too much to take; I reach down with my free hand to stop him, resting my hand on top of his, putting pressure on his hand, stopping his pumping action.

"Cheryl! Are you there?" my husband asks on the phone.

I try to control my breathing. "Yes!" is all I say. I can barely speak. My hand releases the pressure being placed on top of Jim's hand. He begins again, pumping the bottle up and down across my vagina, between my lips, across my blood swollen clit. I don't stop him but I keep my hand resting on his as it pumps the bottle, feeling his strong hand against my fingers. His other hand is rubbing his cock beneath his jean shorts.

"Well," he says, sounding annoyed, "I asked you, why you brought them beer?"

Jim is lowering the bottle further down between my legs, the long throat of the bottle slides across my clit, further he goes until the opening of the bottle is pressed against my own opening. He keeps the bottle there, the bottle ready to enter, to explore my secret passageway, but it does not enter. I slide my body downwards on the lounger, the bottle breaks the entryway and enters me. "Because it's hot!" I finally answer to my husband, though the words could have also been directed at Jim and he does take it as a sign of encouragement and pushes the bottle deeply inside me.

I have to spin the phone upwards so the mouthpiece is away from my mouth as gasps escape from across my lips as Jim now pumps the bottle of Mike's Lite in and out of my wet hot vagina. There is still liquid in the bottle and it sloshes out of the opening and into my vagina, it feels wonderful, my body is on fire, I am in ecstacy. Jim lifts the back of the bottle upwards emptying the entire contents of the bottle into my thirsty vagina. I lift my left foot off the deck and place my leg over Jim's legs, and now I wrap both legs around Jim's bare waist and pull him towards me. The first tsunami wave of an orgasm crashes through me, as I feel his muscular body pressed against my bare legs, my body begins to spasm, my upper body lurches forward as each new wave of the orgasm crashes upon me. My husband is still talking on the phone. I really have no idea what he is saying and I am saying nothing, at least into the phone; almost silent gasps are crossing my lips at each wave of the orgasm.

The orgasm finally subsides, I lean backwards onto the back of the lounger and stare over at Jim, his one hand continues to massage his swollen cock through his shorts, while the other continues to pump the bottle in and out of my vagina, though slowly now, as he is aware my orgasm has ended. I watch now as he pushes the bottle forward and am amazed that almost the whole bottle disappears inside me.

Breathing almost normally now I swing the phone downwards and speak into the mouthpiece, "I'm sorry. I didn't hear you. I was distracted." Leaning forward I reach across Jim's body and grasp onto his thick long cock hidden beneath his shorts, and knead it with my fingers. "I'm trying to get the hose to work!"

"Well be careful with that faucet in the back," my husband says into the phone, "the knobs not attached well and it can easily soak you. And that's all we need, that skimpy white shirt of yours soaking wet with those young workmen around."

"I'll be careful," I say, though the sound of me getting that sleeveless t all wet in front of the guys excites me. "Well I better get going," I say in almost my normal speaking voice. "I have some things I need to do," I add, my fingers till clinched around Jim's thick cock.

"OK," he says. "And I think you should avoid the workers when you can; don't want to give them the wrong idea."

I reluctantly release my grip of Jim's cock and lean back onto the lounger. Jim has the Mike's Lite bottle completely hidden inside me. "OK," I say into the phone. "Love you!"

"Love you too!" my husband says. "See you tonight."

Pressing the red button on the phone, I hang up and reach across my body and place the phone down onto the table. Jim removes his hand from the bottle and it slides partially out from inside me, he turns his body towards me and starts to climb onto the lounger, obviously wanting to take this further. I am now feeling bad and guilty about what we just did and need to stop this.

Raising my two arms and placing my hands onto Jim's shoulders, I push back, halting his advance. "No!" I say, trying to sound convincing. "That was nice, but I went way too far. I'm sorry. I can't continue." I manage to slip my legs over the side of the lounger, the bottle has slipped out and now rests on the lounger. I raise my body up into a standing position, malt liquor streams down my inner thighs. I reach over for my practically transparent shirt and begin to put it on, trying to show some semblance of modesty, though I suspect that ship sailed when I let Jim slip a beer bottle up inside my vagina.

Jim has also risen and he is helping me with my shirt with one hand while his other arm wraps behind me as he places his hand on my ass and pulls me towards me. "No, you don't want to stop!" he declares. "Don't you want to feel my thick cock inside you?" He pulls me closer as his chest rubs against my bare oily breasts. I'm afraid I won't be able to stop him now.

My shirt now on, though it covers nothing, I slide my two arms between our bodies and attempt to push Jim back. "No!" I say again, trying to sound even more convincing. "As I said, it was fun, but we went too far. We have to stop!" I push him a little further back.

Perhaps accepting my decision, Jim steps back and pleads one more time, "are you sure?"

"Yes!" I say with conviction. "I'm sure!" My bare breasts are completely visible through the opening of my shirt. "Now why did you come out back to see me?"

He has to think for a moment, "Oh yeah, we're heading out to lunch, and we wanted to know if you wanted to join us?"

Happy to have changed the subject I say, "Sure, where you going?"

"To a little burger joint in Fultonville," he answers, his eyes staring right at me, his beautiful bare chest wet with perspiration, rippling with muscles, his shorts riding very low, well below his waist, the shape of his still swollen cock visible under his shorts. I'm having difficulty containing myself. "It's not far," he adds.

"Let me get changed," I say, picking up the now empty bottle, or dildo, from off the lounger, and then bending down to get my bikini top and bottom that was still on the floor. When I stood back up and turned to walk into the house, Jim was now standing right in front of me and I accidentally bumped right into him, my bare breasts rubbing against his sweaty bare chest. I could feel the moisture from his chest rub onto my breasts, wetting my nipples, causing them to quickly become firm and erect again.

Jim reached out and grabbed my shoulders as I momentarily stumble, my mind dizzy, my breasts rubbing against him, my free hand grabbing tightly onto his side for support. "Whoa, steady there," he says. "You look terrific just like that," he adds with a smile.

CherylOh
CherylOh
42 Followers
12