Lonely Housewife Phone Sex: The Handyman Fixed More Than My Sink

Tuesday morning, ten fifteen, and I was standing in a puddle in my own kitchen because the dishwasher had started leaking again. My husband left at six, same as always, kissed my cheek like I was his sister, and I had already spent an hour in bed with my vibrator trying to take the edge off. It had not worked. Nothing works anymore.

The handyman my neighbor recommended said he could come between ten and two. Mike showed up at ten thirty, tool bag in hand, nice smile, strong forearms. I was in a robe over a tank top and pajama shorts, no bra, no makeup, and I did not even care. I am past the age of performing for strangers in my own kitchen.

He was on his back under the sink within minutes, and I was leaning on the counter watching him work, and I realized I was staring at his arms and feeling that low ache start up again. God, I thought, get it together. But then he slid out, looked up at me, and his eyes did that thing men do when they notice, really notice, a woman. He saw me. Not the house, not the sink. Me.

We started talking while he worked, easy talk, and somewhere in there I just said it, I do not know why. My husband works late every night. I am starting to forget what it feels like to be wanted. Mike went quiet for a second, then stood up, wiped his hands on a rag, and said, that is a shame, because you are a beautiful woman. Nobody had said anything like that to me in two years. I felt my throat get tight.

He stepped closer and I did not move away. When he kissed me it was slow and careful, like he was giving me every chance to stop him, and I kissed him back like I was drowning. My robe fell open and his hands were on my breasts, warm and rough, and I moaned into his mouth. I had nice full tits once, I thought wildly, I still do, somebody should enjoy them.

He lifted me onto the kitchen counter like I weighed nothing, pushed my shorts aside, and went down on me right there with the dishwasher still half apart behind him. I had been wet since he walked in the door and his tongue found me so easily, circling my clit, pushing inside me, and I came within minutes, biting my own hand to keep quiet, my whole body shaking. Real orgasms from a real mouth. I had almost forgotten.

I pulled him up and unzipped his jeans and took his hard cock in my mouth, tasting him, taking him deep the way I used to do when my husband and I were young and hungry. He groaned and held my hair gently, and that gentleness undid me. Then he pushed inside my pussy and I wrapped my legs around him, and it was slow and deep and exactly what I needed, a man inside me who wanted to be there.

Here is the part I am almost embarrassed to tell you. While he was fucking me, I reached into the drawer next to the stove where I keep my slim dildo, and I slid it into my tight ass myself, because I have gotten used to needing to feel full in both holes to really let go. Mike watched me do it, eyes dark, and fucked me harder. I came so hard I saw stars, clenching around both of them, and he came right after, pulsing deep inside me.

He finished the dishwasher. He said he should come back next week to check the pipes. We both knew what that meant.

I do this because I am truly horny and I truly get off on it, not because it is my job. If you want a real woman who will talk to you like it is two in the morning and we are the only people awake, I am here. Tell me what you would do if you were standing in my kitchen.