Fixing Non-Existent Problems

My Personal Mr. Fix-it

Soon after I decided that I was going to renew my lease, I ran into a maintenance guy in my apartment complex that had flirted with me heavily when I first moved in last year.

I could tell he was interested in me even back then.  I kept running into him in the parking lot, at the mailbox, even at the local convenience store and soon he was knocking on my door asking me if I wanted to replace my dishwasher for a newer model.  He made it clear that he only had a limited number of new machines and they were only going to a select few. 

I took him up on his offer to switch out my dishwasher, and I was very glad that I did.

Over time I noticed that his flirting was amping-up.  The more I ignored his sexually-charged jokes, the more he came up with them.  I didn't want to encourage him, but I also didn't want to piss off the maintenance guy either.  Truthfully, I don't think my reaction either way, encouraging or discouraging, would have mattered.  He just kept coming around more and more.

Another thing I noticed was the ring on his finger.  He was clearly married; he just didn't seem to care.

My dilemma was that he was so freaking cute.  And as off-putting as I found his transparent sex jokes and his stalker-ish tendencies, something tingled inside of me every time he flirted with me.

All of the sudden he was gone.  I didn't see him for months and when I asked my neighbor if she'd seen him, she said, "No, not in a long time."

I assumed he got fired - probably for fucking one of the tenants - or maybe his wife made him quit his job and move to some remote cabin in Alaska where she could keep his libido under wraps.  Oh well. 

In the meantime when I needed maintenance assistance for anything I'd just call the office and they'd send someone over.  Although all of those guys here are flirts, I never really got the same vibe from the other guys - at least not as intense as the vibes from my Mr. Fix-it.  I'm sure that if I offered a return flirt or even a suggestion of one that I would have gotten an affirmative response from one of them, but I just wasn't that interested. 

One Year Later

I got a knock at my door the other day.  It was him.

"Wow, where have you been?  I thought you quit or something."

Turns out that he had injured himself on the job and he had been out of work for all those months. 

He sort of pushed his way in the door and said, "How's your washing machine?"  He walked to the back of my apartment.

"Fine," I said - "no problems here."

I was starting to feel his aggressiveness as something I should be wary of, but part of me was happy to see him.  He was, after all, extremely fit, extremely cute and not surprisingly, openly suggestive.  He told one of his sexually suggestive jokes and when I told him the punchline before he even had a chance to deliver it himself, he looked shocked, surprised - and aroused.

He moved closer - we were closer than two people who are just chatting would normally get.  I could feel that old familiar tingle.  I could smell the minty gum he was chewing.

I'm sure there was a glint in my eye when it happened, and that tingle was quickly becoming a throb.  I could feel my panties getting moist.  I was kind of miffed by my quick and sudden reaction to his closeness.  He moved in closer.  I couldn't help but look deep into his beautiful blue eyes. 

Then, I suddenly got a little nervous.  I wasn't sure I wanted to go there.  Fucking around with the maintenance guy could very well backfire on me in an emergency situation or if he suddenly got mad for whatever reason.  Every possible scenario was playing through my head at once.

I diverted my eyes and moved away.  I jumped up onto the kitchen counter on the opposite side of the kitchen and tried to look nonchalant.  That was my first mistake.

He walked over to me without skipping a beat.  He put his hands on my thighs and wriggled his way in between my legs.  I could feel my nipples getting excited, I could feel that tingle in my panties again and I could hear the voice in my head say, "Aw to hell with it."

He placed one of his hands my neck and pulled my mouth onto his.  He was forceful in his intention, his hand gripped the back of my neck tightly, pulling my hair with it and he earnestly stuck his tongue in my mouth and twirled it around until I was positively dizzy.  His aggressiveness was both scary and intoxicating all at once.

This was like a scene out of a romance novel - where the hunky gardener suddenly gets an urge to see how the mistress of the mansion's garden really grows.  

My hands we still resting on the counter on either side of me when suddenly I found my arms wrapped around his back, pulling him closer.  I really don't remember even doing that, but I was glad that I did.  He reached both hands behind me and grabbed my jean-covered ass and pulled me even closer.  I could now feel his sex directly against my body.

He kissed as good as he looked,  Our tongues danced around each other for what seemed like hours.  Eventually I had to take a tongue break.  I could barely breathe; my heart was racing.  I put my head on his chest and looked down first noticing how much my nipples had poked through my shirt and then noticing the huge cock bulging through his jeans.  I found myself licking my lips, imagining what it would be like to wrap my lips around that monster cock.  Then I closed my eyes imagining how it might feel as it was thrusting inside of me.

He groped my breast through my t-shirt.  Gosh you guys know how I love having my body felt through material - it's that unique sensation that gets me every time - the anticipation of losing those clothes and feeling skin against skin.

I knew it was wrong.  I wanted to say no, but I also wanted him to fuck me hard like a guy who had just been released from prison after a decade.  We kissed again - feverishly feeling each other all over. 

I ran my right hand across the bulge in his pants.  I found that it was as ample in girth as it was in length.  I felt like I could cum right then and there from the excitement  and anticipation.  Certainly I was wet to say the least.

And then his radio chirped.  It was his boss looking for him.  Everything came to a very abrupt end.

Turns out that the radio chirp was actually coming from the alarm clock on my cell phone.  It had all been a dream - a very racy, salacious dream.

Needless to say that when I ran into him later at the mailbox, I blushed.  Plus, I couldn't help but glance at his package.  I'm sure he noticed. 

After I retrieved my mail and locked the mailbox, I turned back towards my apartment.

"Hey," he said.  "How's that washing machine running?"  I pretended not to hear him and kept walking.