Wet

by Ruth Clampett

  I arch my brow and shake my head.

  She tries to peek under the table. “So are you really hard, or are you messing with me?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” I set down my beer. “But I’ve got to go. I’ve got another client’s system to check out, since I’m the sprinkler man and all.”

  “You aren’t going to let go of that are you? Is this some kind of cruel punishment?”

  “No.” I can’t resist giving her a hard time. “Are you always this direct?”

  She blushes an even darker pink. I could totally get addicted to this woman.

  “No, since I’ve been single I’m usually just flirty, but as you said, I’ve had a few beers and you’re incredibly handsome . . . I really didn’t expect to look out my window and see a man like you on his knees.”

  “So I should be flattered?”

  “Absolutely. You caught my eye, and then got me all hot and bothered. How tall are you anyway?”

  “Six foot two.”

  “And you work out. It’s not just your fine body, it’s your face . . . something about that sharp jawline and your green eyes.” She fans herself. “Oh my.”

  “You’re pretty amazing yourself, even if you have a filthy mouth.”

  She gets a devilish look in her eyes. “So can you show me your jumbo cock then? I promise not to touch it, so you won’t be breaking your rules.”

  What’s in this beer? I’m seriously considering her offer.

  “This is the weirdest customer conversation I’ve ever had.”

  “Please.” She tugs on my index finger and something about that makes my cock harder and weakens my will.

  “You’re one pushy woman.”

  “If you show me yours . . . I’ll show you mine.” She skims her fingers down between her breasts. “I’ve seen you admiring them.”

  That captures my attention but I’m not sure I trust her. “You’re crazy.”

  “I may be crazy, but I’ve got great breasts.”

  “So tit for tat, or shall I say tit for cock?”

  She laughs with delight. “Yes!”

  She’s so damn cute when she laughs. I’m going to have to tell Dad about her so he never sends me here again. I’m liking her way too much. I mean, I’m seriously considering showing her my cock and that’s testing my Abstinence Until Love program. Who am I kidding? It’s a complete violation.

  Still the longer I look at this sexy woman, the weaker I get. My resistance is crumbling like a soft-baked cookie.

  She sets down her beer and runs her hands over her breasts slowly. Damn. I’m doomed.

  Standing, I polish off my beer before I set the empty bottle down on the table. I nod at her. “Well, it’s really hot when you touch your tits but are you going to show me?”

  “Are you?” Her eyes grow wide like she can’t believe I’m going to do this.

  I narrow my eyes and slowly start to undo my belt. I’m feeling that mind-bending surge of lust from the old days right before I’d score a particularly hot woman. My heart is pounding, and I can’t believe I’m caving.

  She runs her fingers along the hem of her tank top and then slowly inches it up. I start to drag my zipper down so I can pull out my cock but it’s not going smoothly. I’m so fucking hard it hurts and it’s making everything tighter. It’s going to take some maneuvering to get it out. The whole time I’m screwing around with the zipper I’m cursing myself inwardly for being so weak willed.

  “Do you need help?” She’s grinning like it’s Christmas morning.

  If she could only know the kind of help I’m picturing.

  I huff. “I can do this. It’s just what we were talking about is making this difficult. If I’d known I’d be playing show ‘n tell I would’ve worn looser jeans.”

  She waves her hand at me. “Move your fingers,” she says.

  I rest my hands on my hips as she fixes her stare on my crotch.

  “What?”

  “Oh my God! It’s huge! Is that anaconda in your pants really you?”

  “Of course it’s me! What do you think it is?”

  “I knew a guy once who stuffed socks down there.”

  What do you bet it was her ex?

  “Are you serious? What the hell good is that? As soon as your pants are down the jokes on you.”

  She shrugs. “Why do women wear padded bras? False advertising I guess. So seriously, is that padding or the real deal?”

  “Let me put it this way . . . why would I stuff socks down my shorts to go on a work call? I had no idea you were going to be intrigued by what kind of heat I was packing.”

  “Good point.”

  I look at her tits that are still covered as I fumble with my zipper again. Her excited nipples are so defined through the fabric that they give the term ‘perky’ new meaning. I have this kid-like compulsion to not show her mine until she shows me hers. It’s ridiculous because at this point I may never get my jeans open. “Well?”

  She pulls the fabric up excruciatingly slow as her gaze fixates on my fingers trying to work the zipper further down. When the bottom of her breasts are exposed I start rethinking my done that stance. I can already tell that her tits are epic, making me reconsider shifting back into the been there category.

  Her nipples are hard for me. My cock is hard for her. It all seems so straightforward.

  Wait, what the hell am I doing?

  “Hurry and get that bad boy out so I can imagine licking it,” she purrs.

  Licking it? I stare at her mouth and wonder how my dick would look between her pretty lips.

  I can picture her on her knees gazing up at me through those thick lashes. My blood starts to boil as I slowly burn for her.

  For a second I’m ready to throw all my hard work out the window, but then in my mind I see my dad’s face and it’s jarring—reminding me of my promise to him and to my sponsor. It pains me when I carefully zip my fly back up.

  She gives a little pout and fondles her breasts to tease me. “What are you doing? Are you really going to turn me down?”

  I close my eyes and chant my oath to myself.

  God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, like the fact that I’ll always be a horny bastard

  The courage to change the things I can, like not screwing every broad that asks me to.

  And the wisdom to keep my cock in my pants . . .

  I open my eyes with renewed resolve.

  “Sadly, yes I am.”

  She pulls her shirt down low and full-on pouts.

  “Believe me, there will be regret. However, I made a promise to my dad and a promise to myself. I used to be completely out of control, but now I’m a reformed man.”

  “That sounds so dull.” She sighs and leans forward on her elbows. “I mean, what fun is that?”

  “When I meet the one, it will be worth the wait. I want what my parents have.”

  Her eyes go soft. She glances down at the table and rubs her fingers over the surface deep in thought. When she looks back up at me her eyes are glassy. “I wanted that once and even thought I found it, but I was wrong. I really hope you find it, Paul Junior.”

  Her tender reaction makes me think there’s more to her than this vixen. I smile at her. “Thanks, Elle. And I hope you find the right guy to give you all that great sex you deserve.”

  Before she lets me out the front door she turns to me, suddenly seeming more sober. She stares in my eyes. “Should I be embarrassed? Maybe it’s the beer, or maybe the heat, but there’s something about you. You brought the wild side out of me.”

  I shake my head. “No, in another time it would’ve been perfect. You’re seriously hard to resist, Elle.”

  “I’d say I’m sorry if it was too much, but honestly I’m not. Regardless, please don’t tell your parents how forward I was. They’re such nice people. Well, I haven’t met your mom yet but she’s so lovely on the phone.”

  I smile to reassure her. “Don’t worry, it’s our secret.”

&nb
sp; Once I’m in the truck I pause before driving off. Did I really just turn down sex with the hottest woman I’ve seen for a long time, maybe ever?

  As I fire up the engine and gun the truck down the street my mood swings between feeling proud of myself for sticking to my plan, and idiotic for not encouraging her to lick my cock. I adjust myself and try to focus on the road. My raging hard-on better calm down before I get to the Anderson’s house.

  Chapter Two

  THE CROUCHING TIGER

  I’m on my second tumbler of coffee thanks to my sleepless night. It was the Elle effect, visions of my hands on her tits and my cock in her dirty mouth. I haven’t jerked off that many times in one night since I was a pent-up teenager.

  My phone rings and the number looks vaguely familiar.

  “Paul Junior?”

  No one calls me that except provocative Elle. “Ms. Jacoby?”

  “I thought we’d gotten past such formalities.”

  I smile thinking of her inching her tank top up and how enticing her breasts were.

  “I suppose we have. Good morning, Elle. What can I do for you?”

  She lets out a long sigh. “Well, besides the obvious, I’m having a situation in my yard.”

  “Okay. What’s that?”

  “I was cutting some rosemary sprigs for my roast chicken when the sprinklers went off. And let me tell you it was quite a show.”

  She’s such a tease. “Can you elaborate?”

  “In that spot right next to the ringing bush, the thingy shot right out of the ground with a gush of water behind it. It’s like my lawn had an enormous orgasm.”

  I can’t hold back my laugh, but a second later I’m pissed at myself for getting distracted on the job. I never finished securing the sprinkler head once she stepped into my focus with her ringing phone-in-the-bush situation.

  “That’s a very vivid description, Elle.”

  “I thought you’d like that. So what can be done since the gusher was dramatic? I’ve shut off the system until you can fix it.”

  I’m tempted to rush over but then I remind myself of the risk.

  “Actually I can talk you through it. It’s a simple fix.”

  There’s a long pause. “I was hoping you could do it for me.”

  “My day is completely booked,” I lie.

  “You can’t squeeze me in?” she asks in a breathy voice.

  Oh God, my cock is twitching thinking of squeezing in her. “Really Elle, let me explain it and you’ll see how easy it is.”

  I can picture her pouting.

  “So you know the thing that shot out of the hole? That’s the sprinkler head. If you know where it is, pick it up.”

  “Give me a minute.”

  My mind wanders to sexy places and I slide right into the danger zone. I wonder what she’s wearing and if it’s low cut. I let out a moan remembering her hard nipples.

  “Do sprinkler heads turn you on?” she asks in a playful tone.

  Shit I didn’t realize she didn’t put me on hold. “No, not sprinkler heads. Actually I was remembering our almost show-and-tell last night. So are you wearing a bra now?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know? If you came over and helped me with this head situation you could find out for yourself.”

  I swallow thickly wondering what kind of sexy bra she must wear. I bet it’s black.

  “Sorry . . . back to the task at hand. All you have to do is get on your knees, take the head and push it deep in to the hole.”

  “Oh, baby. I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

  My cock is no longer twitching but throbbing at the idea of her.

  “Can you do it?”

  “Say it like you mean it.”

  So that’s how she wants it. Why am I surprised? “Get on your knees right now and shove it in the hole like a good girl.”

  She giggles then takes a deep breath. “Can I touch myself while I do it?”

  “No!” I start palming myself, but she doesn’t need to know that.

  “Okay. It’s in really deep. Now what?”

  “Screw it.”

  “What?” Her voice genuinely sounds aroused.

  “Screw it in tight.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  A minute passes and I’m still stroking myself while thinking about her bent over.

  “Sir, we have a problem. It won’t screw in. I think the threads are messed up.”

  “All right, I’ll come over after work.”

  “When?”

  “Don’t worry, you don’t have to be there. I’ll bring a new head.”

  “Oh, I’ll be there. Do you want me to wear a bra?”

  I let out an exasperated groan. “Yes. And if you have a pair of baggy ugly sweats could you wear those too?”

  “You told me not to touch myself while you were being bossy, but I may have been touching myself anyway. Have you?”

  I can tell from her tone that she’s teasing but I want to believe she means it.

  “I’ll see you at six, Ms. Jacoby.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  It’s five forty-five and I’m halfway to her house when I pull off the road and pick up my phone. I’m relieved when Jim answers immediately.

  “Hey, Paul. What’s up?”

  “I need some counsel. I’m feeling very weak.”

  “Who is she?”

  “One of Dad’s clients. I was at her house yesterday.”

  “Is she attractive?”

  “Unbelievably. I get worked up just thinking about her.”

  “What’s her ass like? Shit. I’m sorry. Forget I asked that.”

  I can’t help it. It makes me feel better that even Jim isn’t perfect. “Her ass is amazing. Really round and tight.”

  “Damn. Look, it sounds like this woman is pushing all your buttons. Is there any way you can avoid her? Can someone else be sent out to the job?”

  I think about getting Gabriel to do it but this strong feeling comes over me that I don’t want him near her. He’d fuck her for sure and then be an asshole about it.

  “No, I’m the only one until Dad is back on his feet from his surgery.”

  “Well then use the visualization techniques we’ve worked on. And get in and out as quickly as possible. Any lingering around leaves you vulnerable.”

  I consider what he’s saying and repeat it in my head to make sure I’ve got it clear.

  “Got it. In and out. No lingering.”

  “You’re strong, Paul. Just remember your promise to yourself. Self-respect means everything.”

  “It does.” I hated myself when I’d sneak out of a woman’s bed in the middle of the night and not even remember her name. Although I’m pretty sure I’d never forget Elle.

  I think I’m clever by not ringing the doorbell and instead, let myself in the side gate to go straight to the backyard.

  The last laugh’s on me, because when I step into the yard I see her in a chair just to the left of the repair sight. I immediately glance away and keep my eyes focused down.

  “Hello, Paul Junior.”

  I don’t look up as I lower myself to the ground. “Ms. Jacoby.”

  “Thank you for coming. Did you bring your head with you?”

  I feel a sweat break out across my brow. “I did.” I pull the sprinkler head out of my jacket pocket and wave it like a flag. I try not to look at her but the way the sun shines on her bare legs catches my eye. Her legs are crossed with one foot tapping the air. She’s wearing sandals with dangerously high heels. My gaze travels up higher to see her skirt has ridden up her thighs. Holy hell.

  “Nice sweats,” I mumble.

  “I don’t do baggy sweats. But you’ll be happy to know I’m wearing a bra.”

  The sweat is now trickling down my neck.

  “A really sexy bra, if I do say so myself.”

  She leans forward as she fingers the stem of her wine glass slowly. Her blouse dips open and reveals her overflowing cleavage and a hint of black lace. The view is ever
ything I hoped it would be.

  I turn back to the hole in the lawn and shove the head inside. But despite my maneuvering the damn thing won’t screw in. I pull the head back out and run my fingers inside the tread of the pipe in the ground. “Damn,” I curse when I realize what the problem is.

  “So it wasn’t just me?” she asks.

  “No, it wasn’t. I’m going to have to dig this out and I don’t have the tools here to do it with me. I came in my car. I’ll have to come back.”

  “Tsk, tsk. What a shame.” She uncrosses her legs and then slowly crosses them in the other direction. It’s hypnotizing. If she does that a few more times I’m sure I’d be under her trance.

  “Sorry about this.”

  “Oh, it’s fine. So where are you off to now?”

  Standing up, I brush off my knees. “I’m having dinner with my folks tonight. We do it every Thursday. They’re old-fashioned when it comes to family.”

  She studies me with a faraway, kind of sad expression. I wonder what her family is like.

  “Really? That’s so sweet,” she says, her tone sincere.

  “And my mom’s a great cook.”

  “Lucky man.”

  “I am.”

  Her message prompt goes off on her phone and I notice it’s tucked into the edge of her seat next to her naked thigh.

  “More potential conquests?” I ask nodding to the phone.

  She pulls the phone out. “Here let me look.” She reads the screen and then rolls her eyes. “Why does everyone want to tie me up?”

  My eyes bug out imagining her tethered to my bedposts naked. “Seriously?”

  She nods. “I’d show you but you need to leave.”

  I glance down at my watch and I know I should leave but the horny man inside of me opens his mouth before I can stop him. “No, I’ve got some time.”

  She stands up and smooths her skirt down. Her legs go on for miles. I can imagine them wrapped around me and I want it bad. I try to remember Jim’s advice but it’s all fuzzy in my head right now as all the blood is going to my cock instead of my brain.

  She turns and walks across the grass and along the brick pathway with a swagger. Despite her high-heeled sandals she strides with confidence. I walk stiffly after her thanks to my stiffy.

  Once inside, she pushes me down on her couch in her den, and then steps away. She returns with a glass of wine for me, and her glass refilled. As she sinks down onto the cushions I’m acutely aware of her thigh pressed up against mine as she holds up her phone. I take a big gulp of wine and try not to look down her blouse.