I Bratted the Handyman Until He Bent Me Over

So our apartment building has this maintenance guy, and I need you to picture him, because he is exactly my type in the most inconvenient way possible. His name is Jake, he is like thirty, built like he lifts actual heavy things for a living, big arms, big hands, this rough working-man energy that makes me weak in the knees. He had been coming around our building for months fixing things, and every time I saw him I would flirt a little, and he would always be professional, always polite, always acting like he did not notice me standing there in my tiny shorts. And that just made me want him more, because I am a brat and nothing turns me on like a man who is trying really hard to be good.

Last Tuesday my kitchen sink started leaking, and I called in a maintenance request, and when Jake showed up I knew it was my moment. I answered the door in the shortest shorts I own and this little crop top with no bra, my hair all messy, and his eyes went wide for just a second before he got all professional. He came in with his toolbox and got down under the sink, and I just stood there watching him work, and I decided I was going to push him until he broke, because I love that game, I love being such a brat that a man finally snaps and puts me in my place.

I started with the innocent stuff, bending over right next to him to grab something from the cabinet, stretching up to reach a glass so my shirt rode up, asking him to hand me things so our fingers would touch. He was trying so hard to ignore me, his jaw all tight, and I could see him getting tense. Then I got bolder. I sat up on the kitchen counter right next to where he was working, legs spread just enough, and I started talking about how hot it was in the apartment, fanning myself, telling him I might need to take a cold shower. I asked him if he was hot too, working so hard under there, and I told him he could take his shirt off if he wanted, that I would not mind. He muttered something about being almost done, and I just laughed, this bratty little laugh, and I told him to take his time, that I was enjoying the view.

I slid off the counter and crouched down next to him, way too close, and I asked him to show me what was wrong with the sink, and when he pointed at the pipe I leaned in so my chest was pressed against his arm and my lips were right by his ear, and I told him he had really nice hands for a working man. He froze. He literally stopped moving, and I could feel the tension rolling off him, and I knew I had him. I stood up and bent over the counter right in front of him, my ass in those tiny shorts inches from his face, and I told him the sink could wait, that I had something else that needed his attention.

That was it. He snapped. He stood up so fast, grabbed me by the back of the neck, spun me around, and pushed me face down over the kitchen counter, and I was so wet I almost came right then, because this is what I wanted, this is what I had been begging for, a man who finally stops being polite and takes what he wants. He yanked my shorts down, and I heard him groan when he saw I was not wearing any panties, because of course I was not, I had planned this whole thing. He ran his big rough hand over my ass and then he spanked me, hard, and I cried out, and he told me I had been asking for this all morning, and I just whimpered that maybe I had.

He unzipped his work pants and pulled out his cock, thick and hard, and he drove into me in one brutal stroke, filling me completely, and I screamed into the countertop. He fucked me hard and punishing, exactly like a brat like me deserves, his hand gripping the back of my neck and holding me down, his other hand spanking my ass with every few strokes, and I was a moaning mess, telling him I was sorry, telling him I would be good, which we both knew was a lie. He was so deep and so thick and I was so wet that every stroke made this obscene slick sound, and I came so hard I saw stars, clenching around him and shaking.

He pulled out and flipped me over, sat me on the edge of the counter, and pushed his cock back into my mouth, and I sucked him deep and eager, tasting myself on him, looking up at him with tears in my eyes from getting fucked so good. He came down my throat with a groan, holding my head still, and I swallowed every drop like a good girl, which lasted about ten seconds before I grinned up at him all bratty again. He fixed the sink in like five minutes after that, which tells you how distracted he had been, and on his way out he told me if I ever pulled a stunt like that again he would bend me over and do worse. I just smiled and told him I was already planning it. You wish you were the one who finally tamed this brat.