“Before his hand even made it up to my clit, I thought I might come. The slow, strong, powerful, manly, teasing had me so worked up I was afraid I’d climax at the next strong gust of wind. Then without a word he bent me over the ledge and I’d noticed a wet spot where I had been sitting.”
I had returned to the house a few hours later to take a few more measurements for size and placement. Moving into a new house was exciting, fun, and a little bit frightening. As I walked into the raw, exposed space a feeling of accomplishment overwhelmed me. All of this was mine, all those years of hard work finally paid off.
I was startled when he knocked on the wood frame that was to become the door, behind me. As I whipped around, I saw my contractor standing behind me. He was clearly over 6 ft tall, with longer dark hair peering out from under his hard hat. He was wearing tan construction boots, light denim jeans, a t-shirt that most likely started its day white, and a deep, rich layered tan that only came with years of working outdoors in the sun day after day. I could smell his musk, and see the layer of sut that had settled in each of his well defined muscles.
As he walked into the house he removed his hard hat and asked if there was anything he could help me with before he left for the evening. Still holding my measuring tape he put his hard hat down and grabbed it out of my hands asking what I needed measured. I led him into the bathrooms and he helped me to measure the space I had for the jacuzzi tubs. As we got the first measurement, I realized I hadn’t brought a paper or pen with which to record the numbers and had left my phone on the kitchen counter. He quickly took a pen out of his pocket, used his teeth to remove the cap, and as his full soft lips caressed the pen cap he wrote the number down on his arm. I thanked him as I looked down at the floor and blushed, both for my forgetfulness and for the thoughts of his lips that overwhelmed my brain.
We made some small talk as we finished up all the measurements. As we got downstairs he held his arm out for me as I transcribed the numbers, but one of them had started to run as it mixed with the sweat on his forearm so I took his hand to bring it closer to my face. It was almost an instantaneous reaction, as soon ad I grabbed his large calloused hand and felt the years of work in them I could feel myself begin to soak though my lace thong. It was at that moment I had regretted wearing a summer dress as I felt myself begin to drip down my leg. I quickly recomposed myself as I transcribed the last measurement. Taking a deep breath I looked up at him and asked if he wanted help washing it off, and before I could even finish my sentence he was removing his shirt and walking out back to wet it by the hose. I wanted to follow him but was stunned into stillness by the gorgeous strong back that walked away from me. His muscles were beautiful, the kind you could only get from years of lifting and hammering and sawing. The definition that could never be achieved in the gym.
Eventually I was again able to move my legs and as I took my first step I felt the moisture creeping down toward my knee. When I came outside he was finishing up scrubbing the ink off his arm with his shirt, I walked past him to look out onto the acre of land I now owned. The sun had just set and you could see the faint glimmer of the stars as they started piercing through the night sky. I walked to the retaining wall that was not yet complete but at perfect height for me to hop onto and sit. He walked over to me and leaned against the wall next to me as we both looked out into the field. We made more small talk about how that much land would be an entire borough back in NYC, and how I would have to adjust to the slow lifestyle down here in the south.
He then turned and looked at me and said “Some things are better slow.” As my mind only ever goes to naughty thoughts, I giggled like a 16 year old school girl, and teased back, “oh yeah? Like what?” And before I could finish my question, his lips we slowly yet firmly pressing up against mine as his strong hand grabbed the hair at the nape of my neck to direct me. His other hand slowly slid around my waist pulling me closer to him. As he helped me off the ledge our lips remained pressed together with our tongues slowly circling one another’s, and exploring each of the warm wet crevices within the other’s mouth. As I stood up in front of him, he slowly turned me around, slid one hand down the top of my dress, and another up the inside of my legs. Slowly dragging his calloused hand up my soft thighs while he slowly and gently flicked and pinched my left nipple, and as I began to gush and my knees went weak, I fell into him and he slowly began to kiss my exposed neck.
Before his hand even made it up to my clit, I thought I might come. The slow, strong, powerful, manly, teasing had me so worked up I was afraid I’d climax at the next strong gust of wind. Then without a word he bent me over the ledge and I’d noticed a wet spot where I had been sitting. I didn’t have long to become embarrassed because all of a sudden I could feel him slowly moving my legs wider apart, and then slowly sliding my now dripping thong down past my knees, as he slowly lifted my summer dress. And as his soft, warm, wet, tongue slowly pressed up against my now throbbing clit, I not so slowly began to feel my climax build. It moved slowly throughout my body from my toes through my ears, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Before I could release he stopped and I almost turned around and swung at him in furry but before I could get my body to listen to me and do so, I felt him ever so slowly slide inside of me. As he slowly entered me, I felt every detail, from his head being slightly thicker, to the veiny shaft and as my wet, soft, warm lips enveloped him, I felt him throb within me. It was that one throb that sent me over the edge. As I came on him he leaned over me and whispered in my ear, “See, slow can be good.” I moaned in agreement.
He continued to thrust after my climax, slowly pulling out of me almost to his very tip, and slowly sliding back into the depths of me. Between his size, his smell, the feeling of his strong hands on my hip and shoulder, and the incredible control to maintain such a slow rhythm within me, I came more and harder each time. After my third or fourth orgasm, I felt him begin to pulsate within me, and as he came inside of me, it triggered another wave of orgasm as I milked him dry.
More To Cum…
~xoxo~
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