Itís been a shit of day. About the only good point was leaving work early to let yet another telephone company technician tell me thereís nothing wrong. If he even bothers to turn up.
The day is getting better. Standing on the front verandah with his back to me is an extremely well filled pair of trousers. Oh, er and the rest of him. I havenít even seen the front yet and already Iím in lust. I stare hard at that gorgeous butt, wondering if extreme provocation is a plausible excuse for jumping a complete stranger. Why do men who have to bend over so much wear tight trousers like that ? And how do I get a job fitting them for their new trousers ? I appreciate the scenery for a few more seconds, lingering on the tight buns. As he turns around, ashamed of being caught perving I mumble ĎHowdyí with my eyes on the ground and open the door, leaving him to walk through and shut it behind me.
I take a few deep breaths on the way to the kitchen, throw down my bag, and turn around to point out the phone that seems to be the source of the problems. I realise Iím about an armís length away from a chest that seems to fill my field of vision. I look up. Itís Ares.
"You do house calls ?" Iím not at my most witty when surprised.
He shrugs, a movement which does wonders for his chest and shoulder muscles, even while hidden by the uniform shirt . My eyes wander off his face, down to the action. He places a hand under my chin and lifts it to regain my attention. Runs his thumb over my bottom lip.
He kisses me. His mouth is hot on mine, his tongue plunging deep and wrestling mine. I run my fingers through his hair, then down his back feeling all those incredible muscles flexing under my hands.
He allows me to do as I please for a few minutes, then pushes me away from him, spins me 180 degrees and pulls me back into his body. My upper arms are pinned, unable to move. His hands fondle my breasts, teasing the nipples. I can feel him pressed tightly against my back, his hard cock against my ass, the sound of his breathing loud in my ear. I wriggle back against him, trying to driving him as crazy as heís making me. One of his hands wanders down and fondles my clit through my clothing. Iím a naturally shy girl - I grind back hard against him.
"AresÖ." I plead, trying unsuccessfully to turn back facing him. He controls me easily, still driving me into a frenzy, slowly rubbing his hips against my backside. Iím desperate to reach him once more, I want to run my hand over his cock as it strains against his uniform. "Please fuck me."
"You donít want your phone fixed?" His lips are right next to my ear. I twist my head to look at him, see if heís serious. He is. I focus for a moment, consider the question. Sex with Ares, dark, dangerous, desirable. Telephone, white, bland, boring. Nah. I shake my head vigorously. Not one of the most difficult choices of my life.
He slides a hand down my leg, hooking a couple of fingers underneath my skirt and drawing it up waist high, trapping it between our bodies. The other hand still holds me against the broad chest Iíd been admiring only minutes before. I sink my teeth into his arm by way of a protest against the restraint. Well, and because I like biting. Ares likes being bitten, judging from his growl. Perfect match.
"I want to take you from behind." Oh, my seven favourite words. He removes his tool belt slowly, one-handed, not releasing me for a moment. I hear the sound of a zipper. He bends me over the breakfast bar, his hand on my back pinning me in place. Ha, and I thought I was a control freak. He inserts a finger between me and my underwear, pulling it down for easy access. He rubs his hard cock against me several times before thrusting inside me.
Heís big. Thick. Hot. Hard.
I feel him pull back at my whimper, then he thrusts inside me again. I grab onto the edge of the bar, trying for leverage to push back. He flattens against my back. I can feel those incredible muscles working, expanding and contracting, as he covers me, that glorious chest against my back. He bites me at the joining of shoulder and neck. I buck beneath him and growl encouragement for him to fuck me harder. His hands cover mine as he rams harder and harder. We howl in unison, sweating, thrusting, coming. I taste blood and realise that Iíve bitten my lip.
Ares is a dead weight across my back. I consider mentioning it, but lack the oxygen. Iím kinda fond of post-coital closeness - and this may be the last sex I ever have.
The gold fish swimming in their glass bowl will have something different to talk about this week. I hope like hell they donít know my motherís phone number. Sheíd be horrified at the unsanitary behaviour.
Ares isnít dead after all. He stands upright and pulls me up after him, licking the blood from my mouth. Leisurely, he adjusts his clothing, leers at me, straps the tool belt back on. As he turns to go, he waves at hand at the supposed reason for his visit - damn phone. A bolt of lightning sizzles out and fries the inoffensive little sucker. I guess itíll be easier for the real technician to tell what the problem is when he sees that blackened wreck.
Wonder if the phone company will believe ĎAct of Godí as reason for it needing replacement ?