Waiting for the Plumber (Seducing the Plumber, Part 1)

Info Sorseress
13 Mar. '17
Waiting for the Plumber (Seducing the Plumber, Part 1)

“I will be another two hours. I hope that’s okay?”

No apologies, just that. Two more hours. What the fuck am I supposed to say to that? Even if I object, he won’t come sooner, so what’s the point? I let out an exasperated (and somewhat furious) sigh, so that the person on the other end of the line can’t tell how frustrated I am.

“Sure, no problem. Just buzz me up when you are here.”

“Sure thing. See you then.”

I hang up, slamming the receiver down a tad bit louder than I intended to. Two more hours? Seriously? And he didn’t even apologize for wasting my time. I glance over at my husband, who is sleeping peacefully in our bed. That’s just great, I can’t even nudge him to help me have some fun. Not that sex would be the first thing on my mind while waiting for the plumber, but it’s not like I have anything better to do anyway.

He was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago, and I had taken the day off just so the guy could fix the leakage in our bathroom. Eddie, my husband works nights, while sleeping during the day, so it was obvious what I had to do. Having to listen to him snoring all day is bad enough, and now this. I was hoping that at least I could go out on a nice walk. But now I’m stuck for another two hours.

Angry and frustrated, I go into the bathroom and look at the damage. Okay, it isn’t that serious, but it needs to be fixed. And besides, I have better things to do than… Better things? Like what exactly? I am turning forty next month, and I have been married for ten years now. Is it really these two hours that bug me? Or am I devastated because I feel like I wasted the past ten years of my life?

I shake my head slowly, turning my attention to my puffy eyes. Even with the slight make-up on, anyone could tell that I’ve been crying for most part of the day. I just couldn’t help it. I won’t get any younger, and my life is a mess. Yeah, not just my bathroom needs fixing, although until now I haven’t really thought about it to this extent. But I guess something broke deep within me, too. I wonder whether it will be as easy to fix as the broken pipe underneath the bathtub. Yeah, right, as if that was easy. The plumber hasn’t even started on it yet, and already there are complications and delays.

I feel trapped suddenly, with no way to go. So, I lock myself inside the ‘broken’ bathroom. It reflects my state of mind completely. Somehow, although I made myself even more trapped, I couldn’t feel safer and more secure now that I was completely alone. The only person I need to be afraid of right now is myself. How did I get into such a mess? It’s not that there is something wrong with my husband, on the contrary: he is a lovely person. I just guess I became bored over the years. I lost my sense of freedom, my sense of being a real woman. I turned into everything I swore I would never become: a desperate housewife. I smile at the comparison, thinking about the movie. Well, I sure as hell wish I had the opportunity to do similar things.

I look at my reflection once more, wondering why shouldn’t I. I don’t look that bad, do I? My natural raven-black hair is curling down my back, and my eyes are a deep brown. Eddie used to say they looked warm and inviting. I know that he hasn’t said it for some time, but I do believe it’s still true. I never had a problem with my hair, eyes, or my face. So, whenever my husband, or anyone else complimented me on these features, I would just smile, beaming confidently, accepting their compliments to be true. But when someone praised any other part of my body, well… I was a bit more sceptical.

I turn around hesitantly, catching a glimpse of my buttocks under the thin fabric of my cotton skirt. It was Eddie who insisted that we buy a full-length mirror, and until now I haven’t paid too much attention to it. I was afraid of what I might find. You know the feeling, when you keep promising to yourself that tomorrow would be the day when you face your weight issues. Just one more day, and then you would start exercise, diet and all that shit. Yeah, well, that particular tomorrow never came for me, either.

So, looking into the full-length mirror wasn’t an option. But now that I forced myself to be confined into this tiny space, and having nothing better to do, I might as well have a look. And what I see isn’t all that displeasing, not at all, actually. Somehow I managed to lose a considerable amount of weight during the past months. Probably since I began to wonder what if… What if I could… Okay, I will have to say it out loud at one point: I’ve been considering having an affair. As distasteful as that sounds, I’ve been itching to experience something new, for a very long time. I guess subconsciously I started to eat less, walk a bit more. I wasn’t entirely aware of it, and yet the results speak for themselves.

I am no longer the plump and saggy woman I was a few months back. My ass is a bit firmer, and my tits are peaking through my shirt with renewed vigour. They seem round and pert, just like they were many years ago. My hard nipples are also ready to pierce through, defying the fact that I’m wearing a bra. It might as well not be there, for all they care. If I didn’t know better, I would think that I’m about to celebrate 30 again. I shake my head once more, this time in utter disbelief. How could this be possible?

I keep looking at my torso for a few moments, while I can feel the air becoming hot. I mean really hot. And no, it isn’t a hot flush, I think it’s something naughtier than that. With rosy cheeks I slowly unbutton my cotton shirt, one button at a time, admiring the view. I might be under some kind of spell, but I don’t give a damn. I never felt so turned on by the view of my own body, and I’m planning on releasing the tension that’s been building up deep inside me for a very long time now. I’m going to touch myself, and yes, I am going to have hell of a time doing it.

Having undone the last button, I shrug my shoulders, wiggling out of the fabric, and letting it fall flat onto the floor. I place my thumb underneath the lace trim of my push-up bra, caressing my skin, just above my swollen nipples. Oh, how much I like the feeling, it’s so natural, and yet somehow I have denied it for so long. Not sure why. Maybe I thought that once I’m married, I should let go of all means of pleasure, the ones that didn’t include my husband, that is. God, was I ever so wrong.

Careful not to make a sound, I trace a tickling line along my abdomen, realizing just how flat my stomach became. I make a mental note to start going to the gym later, but now all I care is giving my body what it’s craving for. But I’m in no rush. I have two hours to kill after all, and it isn’t likely that my husband would wake up. Unless I make a lot of noise.

I hook my fingers in the waistline of my skirt, and with a swift motion I detach it from my body. My heartbeat accelerates to the sky, because I know what’s coming next. My panties. They have a lace trim, just like my bra, and their colour is a deep burgundy. I have always loved matching sets, I guess that was the only ‘luxury’ I allowed myself. To wear sexy underwear. Even if Eddie kept saying that there was no use, because they would end up on the floor anyway. Oh, well, he is sleeping in the bedroom peacefully right now, so he can’t complain, can he?

Okay, I must admit, there was another luxury I kept for myself: a shaved pussy. I just could help it. My mouth goes dry just thinking about touching my smooth mound. I feel wanton and naughty, very naughty. I decide to get rid of the panties first, sliding them down my legs. But I don’t remove them completely, I let them pool at my ankles. Somehow this feels more erotic.

I glance in the mirror once more, watching my firm body come alive under my delicate touch. Wearing only a burgundy push-up bra, with a perfectly cleaned pussy, my long black hair flowing around my shoulders, I must admit, I don’t look bad. Not at all. I can feel moisture dampen my skin between my thighs, and I desperately look around, trying to find something to stuff inside my wet pussy. Something. Anything. But I’m out of luck, only having bottles of shampoo and other toiletries at my disposal. Oh, why the hell didn’t I buy a vibrator when I had a chance?

Okay, I remember something. I blush at the thought, but it’s there, nonetheless. I step out of my underwear, because it would keep me from doing what I’m planning next. I nervously unlock the bathroom door, and listen carefully for a moment. When I’m sure my husband is still asleep, I tiptoe towards the kitchen. The cool air sends shivers down my spine, all the way to my clit. I don’t think I ever walked around basically naked. Not when it wasn’t for my husband, that is. Hoping not to make too much noise, I carefully open the fridge, taking out my treasure with trembling hands. It’s really cold to my touch, and I’m tempted to put it back, but then the cool air tickles my clit, and the sensitive flesh starts to throb. No, there is no turning back now. I will use the cucumber, no matter what happens. I just need to make it hot first.

I rush back to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I am panting already, completely out of breath. I glance in the mirror once more, and a small smile appears on my lips. I nod to myself, as if concluding a conversation. One that was pretty much overdue. Then I place both hands on the cucumber, rubbing it gently, mimicking the motions I would follow while giving Eddie a hand job. I wonder what he would think of what I’m about to do, but I don’t want to find out at the same time. This is all about me, and my pleasure.

I can feel the vegetable ease up to my touch, becoming a tad bit softer – although I’m sure it’s still hard enough for me to push inside my aching hole. Even thinking about it takes my breath away. It’s so huge, and there are tiny wrinkles along its sides. Will it fit in? To test my theory, I part my lips, placing the massive cucumber inside my mouth. It takes some getting used to, but I manage to push it in halfway. Not bad I guess, because usually that’s how far Eddie’s cock would go as well without me choking on it. Okay, so the next step is to make it hot. I pull it out carefully, then push it back again. It does feel like a real cock in my mouth, and I’m tempted to close my eyes and imagine it is the real thing. But I think better of it and keep watching myself in the mirror instead.

I keep fucking my mouth with the huge cucumber, sucking on its length until I feel like it’s ready. Or until I feel that I’m ready, who knows. I place a towel on the marble floor, to keep me warm, and I sit down, parting my legs slightly, still facing the mirror. I glance at my swollen clit, my flat stomach, then my burgundy bra. Somehow I feel naughtier this way, keeping that piece of clothing on. I grab the cucumber, and place it on my left nipple, pressing down lightly. I stifle a moan, reaching down to my clit with my free hand, rubbing it delicately. I want this to last, but I’m so desperate all the same.

I slowly move the cucumber downwards, my eyes never leaving my reflection. I have never watched myself cum before, but sure as hell I want to do just that now. I take a deep breath, part my legs further, and open my slit with my fingers, slowly pushing one inside. I moan, maybe too loudly, I wouldn’t be able to tell. Nor do I care at this point. My finger is soon joined by another one, while I massage my clit with my thumb. I am near, oh, very near, and that’s why I stop. I need something thicker and longer, so that my orgasm can be one I shall remember for a very long time. I need the cucumber, and I need it now.

I withdraw my fingers, and look at my gaping hole. I think it will fit. I take my newly-found sex toy in my right hand, positioning it at the entrance of my pussy. I take a deep breath, and relax my inner muscles, getting ready for a whole new experience. The moment the cold object enters me, I have to bite down on my fist, to keep me from screaming. The sensation is so intense, so unique, and it’s been so long since someone fucked me properly, that I nearly go over the edge instantly. I wait a few seconds before I push the cucumber a little further in, inch by inch, until half of it disappears. I feel full and complete, as if this was what I needed all along.

I lean back against the bathroom wall, the cool tiles sending a welcome shiver down my spine, further hardening my already rock-hard nipples. I place my right leg onto the bathtub’s side panel, grabbing my other leg and holding it near my head with my left hand. The cucumber slides a little deeper, and I gasp, starting to pull it out slowly. And then I push it back in with a little more force, becoming braver and bolder by the minute. In and out, every time an inch deeper. I let go of my leg, rubbing my clit feverishly, slipping the massive cucumber in and out of my dripping pussy at the same time, masturbating on the bathroom floor.

“Oh, God, I’m going to... cum…”

I say those words out loud, while looking at my reflection in the mirror. My inner muscles convulse around the cucumber, and I tilt my head back, but just enough so I can still see my hands working their magic on my clit and on the unconventional sex toy. Another wave of pure pleasure courses through me, and my knees buckle, my leg suddenly slipping off the bathtub’s side panel. I take a few moments’ rest while coming back down to Earth, then I pull the cucumber out of my pussy slowly and carefully. It detaches with a slurping sound, leaving a trail of white cream dripping onto the towel, making me blush some more.

I decide to throw the ‘evidence’ in the bin and get dressed quickly. Not that I feel ashamed of what I did, not at all. But Eddie doesn’t have to know that I just had the best orgasm of my life – without his contribution. I get up and gather my garments off the floor. Once I’m fully dressed, it’s only the cucumber that reminds me of the naughty things I’ve done. I must remember to buy some more of this miracle vegetable later. But for now, I need to get ready to welcome the plumber. I don’t mind anymore that he is late. Not at all…

 








 

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