SHE WAS STUCK AND HER SON HELPS HER
While giving me his usual cheeky grin, he said, "Don't worry, I'll fix it tonight."
But he didn't, and three days later it still wasn't mended. While we ate breakfast together I reminded him about his promise. A promise that he hadn't kept.
"Sorry, I've been very busy."
That was true, but not too busy so that he couldn't do a small job for his Mother. Then he said more, and I gave a wry smile, because I didn't really believe him.
"Don't worry, I'll fix it tonight."
When he'd left for work, I cleaned up the kitchen, and then I put my feet up while I enjoyed my second cup of coffee of the day. This was my time for some peace and quiet before I did the housework. And today I had a lot to do. But annoyingly, it wasn't quiet. I could hear the pipe dripping, as regular as a metronome. It wasn't loud, but to my ears it was deafening.
Jacob was a good boy, and I was proud to have him as a Son, but if he didn't stop that leak, and do it soon, we would fall out big time.
Then I had a brainwave, I would fix it myself!
How hard could it be? It was just a nut that needed tightening. Yes, it was in a difficult position, behind another pipe, so it would be fiddly, but with a bit of patience I was confident that I could do it. And I would do it now. As they say, strike while the iron is hot.
Eighteen months ago, Jeff, after twenty years of marriage, had suddenly left me for Lexi May. To be honest, I wasn't that bothered. In fact, I was relieved, because we'd had a shitty marriage. I just wish that when he'd disappeared with that bimbo, who had breasts bigger than her IQ, he hadn't taken most of the money with him.
Fortunately though, he hadn't taken his well-equipped tool box!
It was in the garage, and after rummaging through it, I found an adjustable wrench. When I got back to the kitchen I was smiling. In ten minutes, or even sooner, it would be job done.
I was wearing a dressing gown. That would get in the way, so I took it off. I was now in my nightie, and I wasn't going to bother changing. I'd fix the leak and then I'd dress for the day.
It was only a small nut, but it was giving me big problems. I couldn't get a good grip on it. Every time I turned the wrench it slipped off the nut. I called it every swear word that I could think off, including cunt. That didn't help, but it made me feel better!
What should have just been ten minutes, became fifteen, and then twenty. When it got to thirty, after giving a deep sigh, I stopped. The little fucker had defeated me.
But I don't like losing, so I took a deep breath, and then I popped my head back under the sink. Was there another way of doing it? Yes, but it would mean putting my hand behind one of the other pipes, and there wasn't a lot of room to do that. However, I was going to try. If that didn't work then I was going to have to call it a day.
It was difficult, and quite painful, to get my hand where I wanted it to be. But now, because my wrist was past the pipe, I was only experiencing some minor discomfort. And because my hand was in a better position I was starting to think that it might work.
When I slowly moved the wrench it stayed in place, and the nut tightened. Another small turn stopped the leak.
I shouted out, "Yes," at the top of my voice.
I was going to celebrate by having another cup of coffee, and this time with some chocolate biscuits. I deserved my treat, I'd just done my first ever piece of DIY. I couldn't wait to tell Jacob.
It had been difficult getting my hand in, so I expected it to be difficult getting it out, and I was right. My first attempt was a failure, but not to worry, I just needed to try harder. The second one was no better, my hand remained where it was.
Fifteen minutes later, my trapped hand was swollen and bruised. I'd tried every way that I could think of, and nothing had worked. I didn't want to believe it, but the reality was that I was stuck, and I would remain like that until Jacob got home.
At first, I was angry with myself for stupidly getting stuck, and then with my Son for not fixing it when I'd asked him. Then surprisingly, I'd seen the funny side of it. I even laughed. When I was to tell my friends about it, it would crease them up. But that didn't last long, because there was nothing funny about my predicament. Later on I would need the toilet. That was something that I didn't want to think about.
Then suddenly, from another room, I heard somebody shout out, "It's only me."
Hallelujah! There must be a deity watching over me. In an instance, my mood had changed from despair to joy, because, unexpectedly, Jacob was back home. Any second now he would be in the kitchen.
"I forgot my,,,"
He'd stopped mid-sentence, and that was understandable. When he'd come into the kitchen, seeing me on the floor with my head under the sink, had obviously taken him by surprise.
"I've fixed it."
"I'm impressed. Let me help you up."
"Thanks, but there's a slight problem."
Thankfully, when I told him about my predicament he didn't laugh. In fact, he was sympathetic. And he was confident that it would be easy to free my hand.
"Don't worry, It won't take me long to get you out. I'll have you out in a jiffy."
I had to admire his optimism, but I had a nagging feeling that it wasn't going to be as easy as he thought it would be.
After getting down onto the floor, he had to get close to me so that he could put his hand under the sink.
"It'll be easier if you go onto your side."
I did, and then he did the same. We were now facing each other with our bodies touching. As his outstretched arm moved between the pipes, my breasts squashed against his chest. It was making me feel uncomfortable. Then it got worse when he put his other hand between us. His forearm was moving, and while it was doing that, it was rubbing against my breast, more specifically, against my nipple.
It's six months since I've been with a man, so, to put it bluntly, I'm desperately in need of a good fuck. And that's why my nipple had responded as it did, by swelling.
In a lot of ways I'm an average woman. For example, my face. Nobody has said that I'm ugly, but men also don't normally tell me that I'm beautiful. And as for my tits, they are in the middle range, between small and large. Average size is a good way to describe them. But there are two parts of my body that definitely aren't average. The two parts that I am most proud of. My big nipples and my large meaty pussy lips. And, as an added bonus, my nipples aren't just impressively long and thick, they also give me a lot of pleasure because they're very sensitive.
I did try to stop it, but my nipple had a mind of its own. I wasn't wearing a bra, so as the thin silky material of my nightie moved over it, it was getting more than enough stimulation to keep it hard. And why was he taking so long? It was as if he was deliberately prolonging it so that he could keep his arm on my breast. That was silly, he was a good Son, always treating me with respect.
When he came out from under the sink, I was relieved, but there was also a part of me that was disappointed. Being honest with myself, I'd have to admit that I'd enjoyed it. Without knowing it, he hadn't just excited my tits, he'd affected my pussy. Nothing serious, just a nice warm feeling. But something that could, without any warning, suddenly become a fire, and then a raging inferno.
"I've assessed the situation and I think I know what to do."
That was what I wanted to hear. When I was out I'd reward him with a big hug.
We were now back as we were before. Side by side. And he was pulling on my hand.
"Are you OK?"
Through gritted teeth, I said, "Yes."
It was a strange sensation, pain and pleasure in equal measures. The pain was from my trapped hand that was stuck behind the pipe, and the pleasure was from my plump nipple that was being stimulated even more than before.
"Do you want me to stop?"
That got a quick yes from me, but really, I only wanted part of it to stop. I would have been more than happy for him to continue rubbing my nipple!
He was out from under the sink again.
"Pulling on your hand didn't work. I'm going to try something else."
I was now on all fours with him behind me. Both his hands were on my shoulders. After one pull, that wasn't that hard, he stopped.
"It might work if I put my hands underneath you."
It might, but he'd have to pull a lot harder than last time. That had been pathetic. This time when he tried, it was no better. I couldn't understand it. He was a strong man, only twenty years old. However, when he did it again, I did, and the realization of it shocked me.
For the second attempt, his hands hadn't just been underneath me at the sides of my breasts, they'd been over them. And it couldn't have been accidental. It was obvious that he'd placed them there so that his arms could rub against my tits.
"Do you want me to try again in this position?"
On the surface, it was an innocent question. But I was forty years old, wise enough to know that it had a deeper meaning. If he was to do it again, then like before, his arms would touch both of my breasts. He was really asking for permission to touch me up!
Of course, I was going to say no, and to suggest that it would be better with his hands from above rather than from below. And that would be the end of it, something that was never mentioned. A minor indiscretion, that over time, would eventually be forgotten.
But I was only flesh and blood, a weak person when it comes to anything to do with sex. And what was the harm in it? For a few minutes he'd get to do it, and both of us would enjoy it. Then we'd stop and pretend that nothing had happened. It would bring a bit of excitement into both our lives. Just some harmless fun?
With my heart racing, in anticipation of what was going to happen next, I casually said, "OK."
"Are you sure?"
I wasn't, but I didn't have the willpower to stop it now.
"Yes."
When he did it, it was possible for somebody to believe that it was completely innocent. However, they would have to be very naive, because of the unnatural position of his arms. Then he got bold. Now there was no mistaking what he was doing.
HIs arms weren't just casually moving over my tits, they were trying to excite them. And they were doing a good job. He was pressing hard, and making circular motions with them. Both my nipples were now swollen.
I'd given him a few minutes, and that was more than enough. My pussy was now wet, and I had that familiar tingle deep inside it. It was time to stop, while I still could. If we were to continue then it might quickly get out of hand.
I said, "It's not working."
His hands were off me, and we were back on track. We were now trying to find a solution, rather than trying to excite each other.
"Any suggestions?"
"Let me think about it."
While he was doing that I started making plans for tonight. My Son had got me excited, and some lucky man was going to finish me off. Joe's Bar was a dive, full of sad people. It was a place that I normally avoid, but tonight it was perfect for what I wanted. If you weren't too choosy then it was somewhere that you could always get a man. The first one that buys me a drink can have me, and I don't care where we do it. It can be against a wall or on all fours in the parking lot. Anywhere, so long as he makes me come!
"I've thought of something."
He didn't tell me what it was, he just did it. I had to smile. Ten out of ten for effort, zero out of ten for subtlety.
What he'd thought of wasn't something that would help me to get free, it was something that would enable him to touch me inappropriately again. He'd put both his hands on my hips, and then, with minimum effort, he'd pulled. When he did it again I didn't stop him, and that was a mistake.
This time, while doing it, he'd pushed his crotch against my bottom, as hard as if he'd been fucking me. That almost toppled me over, but it also did something else. It flicked a switch in my pussy. It now couldn't wait to be fucked tonight, it wanted to be fucked as soon as possible. But that couldn't happen. He was my Son. His cock was never going into my pussy.
Before he could repeat it I shouted out, "Don't do that."
That startled him, and then he stopped. His hands were now off me and his crotch was a safe distance away from my exposed bottom.
"Sorry."
I'd been harsh with him. He hadn't deserved that. What had happened was as much my fault as it was his. I'd let him touch my tits, and he'd just got carried away. That was understandable. He was a young man with raging hormones. It didn't take much to get him excited. I should make it up to him.
"Put your hands back onto my hips, to steady me."
We both knew that I wasn't going to fall over. It was just an excuse so that he could do it. I was going to let him touch me for a while, and then we'd get back to the important task of freeing me.
However, as they say, 'The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry'.
His hands weren't holding me up, they were caressing me. They were moving slowly, and skilfully, over my bottom. It seemed as if he was trying to touch every part of it. It was time to stop, but it felt so good that I wanted it to continue. It was sensual and relaxing at the same time.
When I realized what he'd done I had to smile. He'd become more adventurous, seeing an opportunity and taking it. I should be angry, but I wasn't, because what he was now doing wasn't just better for him, it was also better for me as well.
While his hands had been exploring my bottom, he'd craftily lifted up my nightie, exposing my panties. His hands were now on those panties, dangerously close to my pussy. All that was stopping him from getting to my most intimate area was some flimsy material, and my panties were small, so there wasn't a lot of it.
So what do I do now? The sensible part of my brain was screaming out for me to stop. It was warning me about the dire consequences of continuing with this. It was loud, and it was determined to control me. I listened to it, I really did, but from deep inside my brain there was another voice, and that was even louder.
It was telling me to do it!
"You know that you want some cock."
I did, and there was no way that I could wait until Joe's Bar opened, to get it.
"He's young, his manhood will be rock-hard, and he'll be able to fuck you for hours."
I didn't need hours, ten minutes, with his cock deep up my pussy, would be more than enough.
Then my conscience joined in.
"It's wrong. You'll regret it."
In my mind, it was now a battle between right and wrong. It should have been a struggle, but it wasn't. Very soon there was a winner. I'd made my decision, and now I needed to communicate it to Jacob, not with words, but by my actions.
When I parted my legs, as wide as I could without falling over, I heard him gasp. Then I went down on to my elbows while keeping my bottom high up. I was going to let him finger me to a climax, and if that wasn't enough to satisfy me, then I was going to let him fuck me!
Was he a better person than me? He must be because he hadn't accepted my invitation. It looked as if he was happy to just fondle my bottom. I was weak-willed, easily giving in to my sexual urges, but he had the willpower to resist. I should be proud of him, and I was, but there was also anger. I was frustrated, and he had got me into that state.
When I wiggled my bottom it was just a subtle movement. It didn't work. Now it was blatant. It was a shameful thing to do in front of my Son, but I didn't care. That was also a failure, so I stopped doing it. I wanted to cry. Would talking to him work, it might, but what should I say? With a man that was not my Son it would be easy.
"You need to finger me."
That was too crude for Jacob, it would have to be different for him. Then I had it.
"You need to finish what you've started."
It took him a few seconds to respond.
"Are you..."
I didn't let him finish because I knew what he was going to say.
"Yes I'm sure."
Now there was no reluctance from him to proceed. His fingers were between my legs, eagerly exploring all the contours of my pussy. When he'd rubbed my tits it had excited me, but what he was doing now had taken it to a higher level.
I was impressed. Even with my panties off, it can take a man a while to find my clit because it's hidden under my meaty folds. With my panties on, he'd found it in record time.
His first touch had been tentative, perhaps because he wasn't sure if it was the right place. However, when he then pressed down harder, and I gave a loud moan, there was no doubt that he'd hit the spot.
His finger was now frantically rubbing that little lump, and it was almost too much for me. My breathing was laboured, and I was making a lot of noise. The feeling inside my pussy was so intense, that if I didn't come soon, then I was going to faint.
"Finish me off."
His finger had been quick before, but that was slow compared to what it was now. And it was working. My climax was on the horizon, and approaching at speed.
When it arrived I closed my eyes. This was one to savour. Slow at first, but reaching a high that few women experience. At it's peak I shouted out something, but I don't know what it was, and, by some miracle, I'd managed not to collapse onto the floor.
It had been wonderful, but I knew that the next one, when he fucked me, would be even better.
"I'm so sorry, I should never have done that."
I could hear the anguish in his voice. This wasn't the time for guilty feelings, he could have them later, after his cock had pleasured my pussy.
"Don't be sorry, I'm not. You gave me what I needed."
I then added, in my most commanding voice, "Now take my panties off, and do it quickly."
I gave him a few seconds to think about it, and then I said more, "Do it!"
It was loud, too loud, but it had the desired effect.
My panties were now off. When I heard him unzip himself I gave a little shudder, in anticipation of what his big cock was going to do to my pussy. And yes, I knew that it was a big one. I've seen him enough times in his underwear and tight swimming trunks, to know that he had an impressive bulge. And once, a girlfriend of his, when she was drunk, had described it.
"It's a big one, but not too big."
That was what I needed now. A cock that could fill me up without being uncomfortable.
When I felt the head of his cock part my large lips, I had second thoughts. Should we be doing this? But such thoughts disappeared as his cock slowly entered me. He only stopped when he was fully in. That girlfriend was right. Big, but not too big. He'd nicely stretched my pussy, and it felt good.
I was pleased to discover that my Son was a considerate lover, because he gave me some time to get used to his cock before starting to fuck me.
His first stroke was gentle, a taster of what was to come. It was nice, but his next one was better. Then he upped the pace. We were now really fucking.
It had only been minutes since I'd reached it, but I was hungry for another one. He was a young man, so I knew that he had more to give.
"Harder."
I got it, and it was enough for now. But it wasn't enough for him. His next stroke wasn't just hard, it was brutal. Then he did it again, and it almost made me come. The next one did.
It started in my legs, and that was a first for me. It was gentle, and then it was suddenly a whirlwind, instantly reaching all parts of my body. Until it ended, I had a roller coaster of emotions. Difficult to describe, but all of them pleasurable.
While I was out of it, Jacob had pulled out of me without me noticing. And also, I hadn't felt him empty his balls inside me because my orgasm was so intense, but I knew that he had, because some of what he'd poured into me was now seeping out of my pussy and onto my legs.
He was the first to speak.
"Now I need to get your hand out."
Then, to my surprise, and great amusement, he did, in less than a minute. Had he made it seem harder than it really was, so that he could touch me up? If he had, then he'd got more than he'd expected, because I'd made him fuck me!
I was curious, how had he managed to do it. Before I could ask he told me.
"It was easy. I bent the other pipe, just enough so that your hand would come out."
I had to laugh, I could have done that. But thankfully I hadn't. And from now on, I would never have to go to Joe's Bar ever again, because waiting for me at home was a nice cock!