A Good Deed
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Imagine my surprise when after all this time and trying to get your attention, we finally got to talk a bit and even though you say the word ‘coffee’ like you’re a native New Yorker (sounds like cawfee), I was smitten by your easy smile, quick laugh and not to mention your love of fitness, which showed. I sure noticed that aspect.
After weeks and months of talking socially and swapping innocent emails, I couldn’t help but wonder if you had some of the same feelings for me as I did for you. Interest, lust, curiosity. Not necessarily in that order.
Imagine my surprise again, when I bumped into you at the grocery store, shopping for the regular stuff. Your are the cook, shopper, care-giver for your only daughter. Your ex is somewhere in Pennsylvania. Is there someone else in your life? Do you have a man with you, a significant other? When was the last time you had sex? These were all questions I was dying to ask, but that would represent a step closer to the line of inappropriateness, which is a slippery slope indeed.
Once again, fate and surprise—or surprise and then fate—would intervene when a few weeks later I ran into you at the neighborhood hardware store, shopping for some light bulbs, wires, and a couple other assorted tools. A handyman to boot (or handywoman as it were).
“Some upcoming housework on the agenda for the weekend?” I offered.
“Someone has to do it because it doesn’t get done itself.”
I notice a couple flood light bulbs in the basket of goods, and they were of the indoor and outdoor varieties.
“Are you going to climb up on those ladders, like way up in the air?”
“That’s where the lights are,” was your reply, with just a little sarcasm. No doubt that’s were some lights are…
“That’s how people fall and break things. Cleaning gutters and changing lightbulbs. And before you know it, the ladder slips, or a bee stings you or some similar instantaneous tragedy.” I had some experience with some people taking some major falls and some major injuries.
Your look was not impressed by my statement of the obvious.
“And how do you propose those light bulbs get changed to ward off the evils that come in the night?”
“I call someone…there’s bound to be someone you know who can climb up there…a fireman, gutter cleaner and the like.”
“That just costs money. I’ve done it myself for years. And see? Nothing broken.”
“I have seen that many times at the gym,” I state, again the obvious, but stealing a chance to acknowledge your very fit legs and gluteal region muscles.
“I’m glad someone notices…it’s not easy these days.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, all the good guys are taken. So a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”
“You mean around the house and all,” not quite grasping the innuendo, pointing to the basket of housework coming up in your weekend plans.
“Whatever it takes,” was your reply, and with a sly smile, and finally I picked up the meaning, a bit slow on the uptake.
“Ah ha…indeed so. That’s most, um, unfortunate.” I think I blushed, which I had thought would not be easy to get me to do.
“It’s a common modern problem, and I’ve learned to cope.” I think that’s the most intimate thing you’ve shared with me.
“Like you said, you gotta do what you gotta do. We’ve all been there.” I peeked around the aisle of the store to be sure some busybody wasn’t listening in on this interesting conversation.
“Like when you hurt your elbow, right?” You said, with a very serious face.
“Huh?” Again, slow on the uptake.
“Like your friend said how much you couldn’t do when you hurt your right elbow a few months ago. We all joked it was from too much something and you assured us that the cause was something else and that you were capable of all needed daily activities. Remember?”
“Oh year, I remember that. Funny.”
“We all got a good kick out of that one. Girls are not so prudish as you might think. We can get a bit raunchy. Probably a lot like the guys do when you’re watching football or playing golf or fishing or what ever you guys do when you’re out and about.”
“We just drink and brag about how many times we got laid the week before. And then we all just divide the number by half or more…depending on the girlfriend/spouse involved. And in the case of that guy you mentioned, we just divide by zero, because the answer is zero.”
“I figured. Us girls just shop and buy makeup and shoes.”
“Yeah, right. You even admitted there’s more going on than that. What do you girls really talk about when you’re together and having drinks?”
“Well, why don’t you come over for a coffee and I’ll tell you.” You said coffee normally this time….perhaps the Yankee in you comes out only once in a while. “And perhaps you can help me with a couple of these light bulbs? There are two in the inside stairwell, that are still hard for me to get to.”
“I’d love the coffee, but I ain’t getting up 20 feet on those ladders. I can do some of the inside ones, but I like my legs just istanbul escort the way they are. NOT broken.”
“Not to worry. I’ve done these inside ones before, but there’s one that I can hardly reach, and you’re taller, so it should be easy with the step ladder I have. It’ll be safe…I promise.”
“OK. Show me the way.”
And with that and my good Samaritan intent, I followed you out of the hardware store, and in a couple minutes, got to your house.
Once inside, I looked around and saw a neat, organized and well appointed house.
“Where’s your daughter?” I asked, following you around from the side door to the kitchen and then towards the stairs.
“She’s with friends for the weekend.”
“Growing up aren’t they?”
“It’s unbelievable. Seems like just a short time ago, she was a little kid. Now she’s going on 18, even though she’s only 13.”
“Just wait until the drivers’ license thing…that’s a whole new spin on worry.”
“I am not looking forward to that time, that’s for sure. Come on this way…the light I need help with is down here.”
I follow you down the hall, and can’t help but appreciate the view that though I’ve seen and enjoyed many times in the gym, this setting was infinitely more interesting and erotic, because it was in your home and more you. Your perfume, your home, your smell. But there was a task to do and I was making some serious leaps of imagination. Just couldn’t help it though. Your flowing brown hair and your smell and inside your home were really quite enticing. But I was here to help with the house chores, remember? That’s what I kept telling myself.
Anyhow, I waited a moment for you to get a step ladder and followed you to the stair well where there was a set of lights 12′ up from the landing.
“Here’s the one I can barely reach. Do you think you can change these lights? I leave them on at night for safety.”
“Sure…let me see if I can reach.” I pulled the ladder underneath the lights and climbed to the second from the top step, just a bit teetering, but seemed stable with you holding the ladder.
I reached up as high as I could reach, and could barely unscrew the light bulb at the top of my outstretched arm. The first bulb came out without troubles and then you handed me a bulb to insert. No problem. Two more to do.
The second one also changed without troubles. The third one somehow was a bit stuck, and as I reached out yet more to try to apply a bit more force to unscrew the bulb, I felt my left leg slip and then the balance of the ladder was upset and in a strange slow-motion tragic cinema, the ladder started toppling and I was slipping at the same time losing balance. In the brief second between considering hanging on to the suspended light and falling 5-6 feet, I opted to try my luck at the latter, and tried to find a way to fall safely.
You held on to the ladder, thinking that would stop my imbalance, but it seemed to secure my legs from my swaying body, and I fell awkwardly to the stairwell landing, feeling a pain in my hip as I hit the ground and then I don’t remember much at all.
When I came to, my leg was throbbing and the left side of my head felt like I was hit by a brick. I don’t know how much time had passed or how I came to be laying propped up against the back of the sofa, but that’s my next memory.
“What happened?” I managed to croak, trying to grasp the situation.
“You fell and hit your head and your leg. I managed to get you down to the sofa here. How do you feel? That was so scary.”
I could see the concern in your eyes, and I felt some ice on the side of my head, and another one on the front of my hip. “I saw you hit your head on the wall, but then I saw some bleeding from your hip. Must have been how you hit the step of the ladder when you fell.
Now my head was starting to clear, and though with a bit of a headache, I looked down and saw my pants open and an ice pack also under the waistband of my underwear. There was some bleeding from a cut there, but as I looked under the ice pack, I saw a cut that wasn’t too bad and mostly superficial.
“That’s odd…I just don’t remember a couple moments since I fell. That part I remember.”
“I’m just so sorry. I thought it was within reach and that I was holding the ladder safely for you. I feel terrible.”
“It’s really not that bad. Just a bump and a scrape. How did you get me from the stairs to the sofa?”
“I just kind of dragged you. You were mostly out, but somehow I got you down the stairs.”
“That’s pretty good for a woman to drag a man. All that working out comes in handy after all.”
“I guess so. I just feel so terrible.” The unusual situation was dawning on me, sitting here with my pants open on your sofa, with you next to me, and you holding an ice pack to my head, and also at the front of my hip, tending very tenderly to my injuries. It really wasn’t that bad. A headache to be sure, but I was beginning to enjoy the circumstances avcılar escort somehow. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad accident after all. A bump and a scrape. And who knows what else? Nothing broken I could tell that much after all.
“Really Carol. It’s not that bad. Could have been a lot worse. At least, I got two of the bulbs changed, right?”
“Yeah, right. Let me look at that cut again,” you said, lifting the ice pack and pulling my pants further down along with the waistband of my underwear. I instinctively tried to shield my privates a bit, and you could tell my embarrassment. “It’s ok…I’ve seen it all before. I just want to be sure the cut isn’t bleeding anymore.”
“OK. Let’s have a look. I think it’s not too bad.” I couldn’t help but feel a bit tingling in the nether regions at the proximity of your hand to my crotch and was trying as hard as possible to think of the pain in my hip rather than the rising erection I felt.
“Um…Carol…I think…um…” was all I could muster, coherent words not exactly forming into any sentence structure.
“What? Does it hurt that bad?” you asked, with concern in your voice and eyes wandering to the waistband of my shorts where you had lifted them away from my skin trying to assess the source of my discomfort.
“It’s not that…it’s just that, well, it’s that there’s something else…” I tried to form a sentence again, but couldn’t help but focus on your hand and forearm mere inches from my cock, now swelling and the tip just poking towards where your hand was.
“Is there something else bothering you?” I wasn’t sure if you appreciated my situation or that you were just playing the innocent but knowing muse.
“I think that my hip isn’t hurting as much as I thought.” Well, finally some sort of full sentence structure came to my mind.
“What is it then?” Again, the innocence of your voice not matching with your hand, again, just an inch from my now full, raging erection moving towards your hand as if that’s where it knew the stimulus was coming from. “Is there something else here hurting you?”
“Well…not exactly hurting, I guess.” Now your finger tips were brushing the thin cloth of my underwear covering my very swollen shaft, leaking just a bit causing a spot at the tip to seep through the material. I know this was not escaping your attention.
“Is there something else you’d like me to check out perhaps? Is this needing some attention?” you said, again, so lightly brushing the shaft of my now very full erection.
“Oh god…well, perhaps…” Again, the articulate me comes up with a witty response.
“I just feel so terrible that you fell. Perhaps I can make it up to you by having a look here?” you said, wrapping your hand now around my cock, stroking it softly but firmly through my underwear. “Would you like that? Has it been a long time?”
“Well, that’s not right. Let’s have a look then and let’s see what I can do to ease your injury.”
Nod again. I had intended to shake my head ‘no’, but that message wasn’t properly transmitted. I lifted my hips at your indication by pulling the elastic band away from my aching cock, and then pulled them off my legs with my pants.
“Oh my…that’s lovely. What a nice cock you have. So big. So hard.”
I wasn’t sure if there was a question there. I just tried to breathe as slowly as possible so as not to interrupt the moment. I thought a single misplaced word would change your mind, or at worst, your hand. Your hand returned to my now naked cock and began to stroke it up and down, caressing it from base to tip, from my balls pulled tight to my crotch.
“It’s been a long time for me too…I haven’t held a cock in my hand for months…more months than I’d care to remember or admit.” Your voice was soft and as mesmerizing as was your hand moving up and down, with intermittent caressing at the tip and wrapping and stroking around and around. “I think I can remember though…it seems to be coming back to me now. How’s this feel?”
“That feels great Carol. Amazing. That’s incredible,” I gasped as your hand grasped me and stroked firmly as if near to coaxing my needed orgasm.
“I know it does. I can tell. Just enjoy this.” Your hand continued it’s amazing stroking, again stopping every few strokes to just gently caress the head and the undersurface groove eliciting a matching groan from me and a few more drops of fluid from the tip, which you swirled into my skin.
“God Carol, that feels good. So good.”
“I’m glad. I’m enjoying this too. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve felt this. It’s making me wet too. No coming just yet though, ok?” You looked at me, squeezing my rising passion.
“Why not?” I asked, a bit puzzled and focusing on your hand and smooth skin rubbing my aching, red and throbbing cock.
“In due time baby. All in due time.”
I tried to breath again, wondering how long I could hold out without begging. Perhaps that was your intent though? Meanwhile her other hand started şirinevler escort caressing my balls, squeezing gently in concert with her stroking. Again I could feel my passion rise and my hips were moving up towards her hands, trying to push harder and harder.
“So how long has it been for you? How long since your last good come?”
“I don’t know…a few days I guess?”
“Now that’s not right…a few days is too long for most guys. Was that by yourself or was that with someone else?”
“So, that means by yourself, huh? That’s not right either…such a waste…this should be tended to properly and regularly, ” your soft voice continuing to urge me towards a monumentous climax along with the incredible sight and feel of your hands stroking my cock up and down, with a firm, knowing and inexplicably erotic rhythm.
“Feeling good? That’s nice…so hard,” you murmured, talking to my cock it seemed, equally entranced by the sight of your hands on my hard cock. I know it felt better to me than it did for you, but your face was filled with pleasure and your eyes were dilated as mine were struggling to stay open as my orgasm approached. Stopping and starting. The ebb and flow of my arousal was clearly in your plan at this point, not rushing to a much needed climax, but teasing, urging was incredibly erotic.
“I can feel it now.close, isn’t it? Just be patient…slow is better…so much better,” your voice now barely a whisper, as your hands continued their tortuous pleasure, urging me ever closer with their strokes and caresses, and not with that end game intensity just yet. Man, did you know what you were doing. I’ve never had a hand job like this. Not rushed, not too slow either.
“Lots of built-up tension in there isn’t there?” you whispered to my cock, as your hands continued to knead my aching and tight balls. “Full…so full of come…I can tell.”
“Oh…god…Carol…oh…” I could feel my orgasm nearing, painfully slowly and almost there.
“There it is baby…I can tell…close now, isn’t it…so close.” Your hands did not speed up, but slowed down dragging my orgasm out slower and slower, but not stopping just easing me closer and closer to eruption.
“Let me feel you come now…come for me…let it go…Come. Now.” you urged, voice barely erotically whispering to my cock, as my orgasm hit me like never before. I erupted at your urging, shooting my come up high in the air, landing with an audible splat up onto my shoulder and your arm, twice, three times each one as powerful as the last.
“Oh baby…that’s nice…let it …oohhh…” was the sound of your voice amplifying the onset of my orgasm as I finally crossed the line of arousal and came and came and came, until your hands coaxed the last few drops from my cock until the white fluid ran slowly down your fingers coating them with pearly, white liquid.
“That was a good one…too long to wait between comes baby…not good to wait. Didn’t that feel good now?” I’m pretty sure that was rhetorical, but I couldn’t yet talk.
“Oh…god…shit….” I watched as your hand milked the last few drops and the sight of your hand covered with my come was etched—and even burned—into my mind’s eye.
“You needed that one, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess I did. Never felt like that though. That was amazing.”
“I’m glad. I hope that at least partly makes up for the fall you had.” Your hand was still gently squeezing my cock, which had not yet lost any of its rigidity.
“I definitely think so…”
“Let me get something to clean up a bit…you sure came a lot.” With that, you stood and left for a moment returning shortly with a washcloth and gently cleaned the globs of sticky come from my chest and stomach, and around the base of my cock.
“That was amazing Carol. Where did you learn how to do it like that?”
“I guess I had some practice in my life…I’ve always enjoyed giving a good hand job. I’m glad you liked it.”
“Indeed I did.”
“Looks like there’s still some life in you yet. Pretty good for a 40-something guy,” you said, giving my cock a squeeze and a smile.
“Care to make use of this then?” I asked, enjoying still the feel of your hands wrapped around my stiff shaft.
“What do you mean?”
“How about a few moments for you? I think you might perhaps need a bit of the same release that I just had.”
A moment pause and then a look of resolution came across your face. That look was quickly followed by you shedding your clothes faster than a guy in a whore house. In seconds, you were as naked as I was and I could only stare at your wonderful form. And before I could take this situation in fully, you were climbing atop of my thighs and leaned in to kiss me, pressing your breasts against my chest and trapping my still-hard cock in between us.
We gasped as we kissed and I pulled your back and ass tightly to me as we devoured each others’ lips and tongues. I felt my cock against your pubic mound, closely shaved and your tight ass and thighs under my hands.
“I need this inside me. Now.” You gasped into my mouth as you reached between us to place my cock at the entrance to your hot center. I could feel the wetness and moisture there as you sat on top of me and inched me deep into your pussy with a firm and complete and satisfying drop to have me completely inside you.
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