Handyman Called to Fix Washer Gets Used for Naughty Pleasure

With his trusty toolkit slung over his shoulder, Ted trudged up the grand staircase leading to a sprawling mansion. He couldn’t help but wonder just how urgent this laundry fiasco could be—urgent enough for the lady of the house to shell out an extra £500 just to have him rush over. As always, his eyes lingered on the details: the expensive finish of the front door, the sturdy lock. It was usually a dead giveaway for the sort of customer waiting inside.

But no lock could’ve prepared Ted for what greeted him.

The chime of the doorbell was barely out of his ears when the rapid clatter of high heels approached. The door swung open to reveal a curvy woman, probably in her early thirties, with a stunning face and her long blonde hair tied into a sleek ponytail. Despite insisting the repair was urgent, her attire screamed anything but preparation for company.

Ted, ever the professional, fought to keep his expression neutral as he took in her champagne-coloured robe—a whisper of lace barely clinging to her generous chest. Without staring at her, he couldn’t help but notice that she had very large dark breast areolas. Though he was no stranger to all kinds of situations, this particular sight was testing his composure in ways he hadn’t bargained for.

Before his thoughts could wander too far into dangerous territory, he cleared his throat and, out of sheer self-preservation, turned his back to her. “Where’s the spinny thing, then?” he asked, his voice steady despite the rising heat in his cheeks.

Instead of giving him directions, the woman moved with a feline grace, slipping ahead of him and saying, “Right this way,” as she led him through the house.

Ted followed, his eyes drawn to her round, sexy arse, and he couldn’t see any harm in admiring it—especially since her choice of attire, a robe so short it hardly covered a thing, made it impossible not to notice. To top it off, she had a cheeky sway to her hips, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.

It wasn’t the sort of behaviour he encountered every day, but it wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary either. Some women liked to provoke a little, though most of the time it didn’t lead anywhere and he has a couple of pictures in his mind at night before going to bed, where he uses baby oil and Kleenex, and once he empties his balls, he usually can hardly remember such a client anymore.

“So, what seems to be the problem with your washer?” Ted asked as they stood in a surprisingly spacious laundry room. The machine itself was tucked against the wall next to a dryer and a folding table. There were also a couple of plain wooden chairs and, rather unexpectedly, a cosy-looking grey sofa.

The woman positioned herself in front of the washer, leaning back against it so that her nearly bare breasts pressed against the lid. As she struck the pose, her skimpy robe parted at the front, offering Ted a very clear view of her immaculately groomed pussy—for those still wondering if she might be wearing anything underneath.

“It’s not working,” she said innocently.

Ted couldn’t help but wish, not for the first time, that customers would provide more useful details—something like what went wrong, when it started, or whether it happened repeatedly. But as he looked into her wide, inviting eyes, he figured the fastest way forward was to roll up his sleeves and have a proper look under the hood.

Ted set his toolkit down on the tiled floor, pulled out a trusty screwdriver, and began unscrewing the back panel of the washer. His first move was to inspect the motor coupling—often the culprit when the drum refused to spin. Spotting nothing out of place, he gave the drive belt a tug to ensure it wasn’t slack or worn. Finally, he checked the pump for clogs, a common issue when bits of laundry or the odd forgotten sock tried to make their escape down the drain. Everything seemed in order—at least mechanically.

“Fancy a coffee?” she teased, then added with a cheeky grin, “Or something a bit harder?”

“A splash of water should do it,” Ted muttered as he reached for the more elusive inner components of the washer. Lying flat on his back, face to the ceiling, he was startled when she stepped over him, even though the room was spacious enough for her to easily walk around.  As if halfway through she pauses, and so while standing over him in her unbuttoned robe, directly above him a perfect view of her gaping, moist vagina and the underboob of her large breasts and dark nipples, she adds “Sparkling or still?”

This was a bit much for Ted. He wanted to object and tell her to stop, but somehow his voice was not coming through when he opened his mouth. He cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on a really beautifully shaped female body with pussy in perfectly formed, gaping splendour.

She stood over him, open, inviting, fragrant, and irresistible, clearly enjoying his flustered state. “Sparkling means the water’s got bubbles,” she explained, still holding that teasing pose. “Still – well, that’s just water. So, what’s it gonna be, Ted?”

Ted could feel his body definitely leaning towards the choice of “harder.” His trousers were getting uncomfortably tight, and that bitch above him was still standing with her legs apart, while he couldn’t summon the courage to do anything about it. He cleared his throat. Licked his dry lips, then muttered he’d have sparkling water. He even managed to say “thank you” politely.

For several long seconds, she kept offering him that stunning view, before finally stepping over him with her other leg, the sound of her heels clicking as she walked off. Ted closed his eyes. It seemed like there was nothing wrong with the washing machine after all. He could probably switch it on now, and the machine would prove to be fully functional. Which would give Ted the chance to pocket the promised five hundred quid and make a quick exit. But did he really want to? He tried to convince himself he was simply curious about what else the naughty customer might throw his way, but the truth was, whatever it was, he was looking forward to it with his suddenly very eager body.

He tried to convince himself that he was doing it because, for five bills, the woman deserved a proper inspection of her washing machine, so he kept poking around in its mechanical insides. By then, she was back, holding a tall glass half-filled with water, bubbles quietly popping inside it. She set it down on the floor beside Ted, then knelt down right next to him.

“I think I can see what’s wrong,” she said, her body stretched across his, her naked large breasts with their big dark nipples swinging right into his face. He swallowed softly. The professional in him urged him to turn his head and look where she was pointing, but he couldn’t move. To make it less easy for him, she arched her back as if trying to look somewhere back and upwards inside the washing machine, and with that movement Ted found a nipple in his mouth.

Damn, he thought, he’s a man after all.

He pursed his lips and pinched the nipple between them. She must have felt it, must have known clearly that he was sucking her stiff dark nipple, but she made no sign of it.

“I feel like there’s something loose back there,” the woman said. Suddenly, without warning, she gets up, rolls over, and sits her naked ass and naked, wet pussy on the repairman’s face.

While her big, soft butt cheeks are on his forehead and nose, his mouth is smothered by her wet, horny hole. Ted lets go of the screwdriver and grabs her ass. He slaps it over her and doesn’t spare her at all, she continues to lean under the washer as if she’s completely unaware that his tongue is trying to wriggle between her pussy lips.

“I can see it now, back there,” he hears her say, and at that he feels her undo the buttons on his overalls, quickly reaching into his boxers and pulling out his big, hard cock.

And that’s it. Ted waits for her to take it in her mouth, or at least in her hand, while she wiggles naked on his face, he feels his face wet, full of her fragrant juices. He realizes again how terribly inappropriate this all is and he could lose his license, on the other hand at this point things have probably gone too far for him to object.

The woman begins to rub her wet cunt against his face with sliding motions on his nose. Ted reaches for his exposed cock and starts jerking off.

She speeds up her movements and moans, both her hands are on the washing machine and it is shaking as if it has just been swung. Ted jerks his cock at this, but it’s clear to him that she’s faster. Her movements are jerky and quick until her moans turn into a drawn out, dark tone and while he tries to catch up with his cock to cum, she simply stands up, pulls her robe down to below her ass and says teasingly that he should go already, it looks like there’s nothing wrong with the washing machine at all. And therefore she won’t be paying anything at all.

The woman leaves.

Ted gets angry.

He quickly got up, caught up with her, took her hand and threw her on the couch. She landed softly on it, surprise in her eyes. She clearly hadn’t expected this. He ripped off her robe in one swift motion, and the woman had clearly expected him to enter her with his hard cock. But she had miscalculated.

Tom grabbed her arms and held them with one hand. With his other hand he began to tease her cunt, his hands moving gently around her clit until they entered her vagina. As he did, he looked into her eyes, a smile playing on his lips.

She didn’t say anything, didn’t protest or encourage him. Looking stunned, she began to breathe again raggedly. After a moment she spread her legs, thrust her hips forward, and with that gesture invited him in.

But that was not enough for him.

He continued to tease her without his fingers going inside. His big, hard cock hovered before her eyes until she said, ” Okay.”

” Okay what?” He said, as if he had no idea what she was talking about.

Her moans were more urgent.

“Okay, you can fuck me,” she said in a deep, excited voice.

He brought his hard prick closer to the entrance of her wet pussy, but no further. He teased her with the head of his cock as she excitedly and lustfully moved her hips, opening the gates of her heaven for him.

” Can I?” He said, in a mocking way. “But I don’t have to.”

He continued to tease her while watching her face. It was flushed, her eyes glistening with excitement. She really was beautiful, though right now she was frowning.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Please what?” he shot back.

“Please fuck me.”

“That would be inappropriate. After all, I’m a simple craftsman.”

She closes her eyes, tilts her head. She puts her knees wide apart and in an unexpected swift movement, she shifts forward in her desire to impale herself on his hard cock. He flinches in time and chuckles.

“What’s up, princess?” He says.

“Good,” she opens her eyes. She has both humiliation and desire in them. “Please. Please, I beg you, stick your hard cock in my cunt. Play with me. Do whatever you want with me, just fuck me. Please.”

“If you have no other choice, ma’am,” Ted says.

As he says it, he thrusts it into her hard. Harsh, no holds barred. She cries out, partly in pain, partly in pleasure. He lets go of her hands and starts playing with her tits. He sucks her nipples and she lets go. She holds on as he fucks her. His hard dick pierces her, she writhes under him and moans in pleasure.

“You needed this,” he says. “This was the only thing wrong here. You’re a horny slut who needs to be fucked. Admit it.”

“Yes,” she grunts.

“Say it. Or I’ll stop.”

“Yes, I’m a horny whore who needs a dick in her pussy.”

“Yes, you are,” he says, and continues to fuck her. He picks up the pace. Her breathing speeds up too, and finally he ejaculates into her, feeling what feels like a good dose of cum.

It takes him one deep breath in and out before he recovers. He stands up, wipes the remnants of semen over her naked body and then shoves his cock back into his overalls and calmly turns himself on.

While she’s still lying there the way he left her, naked, her legs wide apart, her cunt full of his cum, he goes back to the washing machine. He sets a simple program, presses a button, and just as he expected, the washing machine starts. He turns the machine off. He deftly screws back the side panel of the washing machine, then turns on the tool bag and slips it over his shoulder.

When he turns to her, she’s already standing. Face flushed pink, eyes gleaming with satisfaction, sheer gown pulled carefully to her body.

As he leaves and walks through the house, he picks up a translucent plastic box from the mantelpiece with what is obviously a very old watch inside and, without turning around, says.

“Let me know when you’re ready to trade this gem for five hundred pounds.”

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