Plumbing Problems
Title: “Unclogging More Than Just Pipes: A Plumbing Adventure”
The plumbing was acting up again in the old house that served as my temporary abode, and I needed to call a professional. Little did I know that the sexy, strapping plumber arrived to unclog more than just my pipes – he would soon make my heart, and other parts, skip a beat.
I was lounging on the couch watching anime cartoons in my skimpy PJs when the doorbell rang. The wind chill was brutal, nippy enough to make a penguin shiver. I flung open the door, and in walked a tall, dark, and handsome slab of man… meat. His name was Grits, true story. He wore a worn leather jacket, tight jeans, and a tool belt that sat low on his hips, perfectly framing his stupendous… assets.
“Well, hello there, cutie,” he said with a crooked grin, his voice smooth like a freshly tapped beer. “What seems to be the problem?” His eyes drifted down to my scandalously short shorts and tank top. Heat rose in my cheeks.
“It’s the pipes, Mr. Grits. They’re all backed up,” I replied, trying to maintain composure. Oh, if he only knew the backlog backing up deep inside me too…
“Mmm, well, seems like you’ll need my area of expertise,” he said, pointing to his crotch. I nearly swooned at his shameless boldness. He stepped closer, his musky cologne smelling like pure virility. “Tradesman’s fee is a bit steep. I charge… extra for drain snaking.”
My mouth went dry. “I see,” I managed to choke out. “Let me go freshen up and slip into something more… suitable.” I didn’t know if he meant suitable attire, or suitable for what he had in mind
In my room, I did an awkward little striptease until I was bare naked. Then I wiggled into a silky Hello Kitty nightie that barely reached my panties. Gazing at myself in the full-length mirror, I had to admit, I looked like a sexy sorority slut. Good – that’s exactly the vibe I needed to make my pipes flow freely again.
I returned to the living room to find Grits sprawled across my couch, studying some porn mags (seriously, was he trying to proposition me or provide a service?) He looked up at me, his eyes ablaze.
“Not sure I can fix a backed-up beauty that sexy without getting my hands *and* trousers dirty,” he purred, eyeing my braless breasts straining against the thin fabric. I couldn’t help but notice the growing tent at his crotch. The plumber certainly seemed equipped to handle my dirty pipes.
I stepped between his spread legs and trailed a fingertip down his rock-hard chest. “Well, maybe I should assess the damage first, Mr. Grits. Just to make sure my pipes can handle your industrial-sized equipment.”
He threw his head back and belly-laughed at my innuendo. “Gutsy an’ adorbs! Yeah, babe, you can absolutely lube up my megacock with your pretty mouth. I’m game if you are!”
And so it happened – me on the floor and him unfastening his giant plumber’s tool, all nine pulsing inches of manhood springing free from his tighty whities. I tongued his glans and swirled around his throbbing shaft, savoring the heady musk and sea salt on his muscular body. He held my head in place as I bobbed on his hefty pole.
“Oh yeah, you like choking on my big dick, doncha? Such a cock-hungry slut!” he growled, face screwed up in pleasure. I couldn’t help humming enthusiastically in agreement.
He hauled me up by my armpits and spun me around. I yelped in surprise as he ripped my panties off and thrust two calloused fingers into my already slippery, dripping quim. “Sweet Baby Jesus, you’re gushin’ soaked! Musta been jonesin’ for a real man!”
His bulging cock flared into my slick pussy and he began a furious pound, the wet slap of fucking filling the room. I was stuffed so full of cock, it felt like he was tapping my tonsils from behind. Curling my hips back, I met his relentless thrusts, urging him deeper inside.
“Fuck yeah, I love it when they’re hung like you! Stuff my slutty holes, Mr. Grits!” I cried out, not caring who heard me getting expertly dicked down by the brawny plumber. Grunting like a wild boar, he bestowed long, lusty strokes until his creamy pipe grease splattered the back of my gulping throat.
Spent and satisfied, we powered down on the couch, my head resting on his rock-solid pecs. That surely took care of my backed up system. As Grits snored softly beside me, I laughed at the absurdity.
Perhaps calling for a plumber was the best decision I made all week.
