This short story was inspired by another of Literotica’s contributors – ‘WhiteWave48’ without whose original idea it could never have been written. Hers was the creative concept, mine merely the pleasure of converting that into the story that we both hope you, and others, will enjoy as much as we have in bringing to you.
For some of her own very special brand of stories, check her out via the ‘Author’s Index’ then, as we both often say – “Enjoy!”
Hardware Service
Chapter 1
It all began during one of those apparently almost pre-ordained lulls in the hubbub of the noisily giggling chatter of one of our occasional ‘girls only’ nights out.
There were eight of us; a mix of those who had been friends at either high school or college; girls who met irregularly, and then spent the evening drinking, laughing, sometimes dancing, but in between, mainly eagerly swapping stories of our latest love-life’s adventures – and, equally unabashedly, their counterparts, the disastrous failures. Unfortunately, all too often I seemed to find myself having far more of the latter to talk about, than I ever did the former.
And if it hadn’t been for the fortuitousness of those few unusually quiet minutes, it might well have been exactly the same for me at the next of our nights out.
Three of the girls had gone over to the bar to replenish our supply of tongue-lubricating booze, two had headed for the toilet, leaving two girls at the far end of the table, and me, alone at the other. Immediately behind us there was a similar girls’ table, all of whom had been doing very much the same things as we had, but, right then, three of those girls were huddled together – almost conspiratorially – and if it hadn’t been for the fact that they were immediately behind me I would have never have even thought of trying to listen in on what they were saying.
And if it hadn’t been for one girl’s much louder exclamation, and my interpretation of it, I still might not have done.
‘He was huge! I guess it had to be the full eight inches it had said on his badge. It certainly felt as though it was!’ she’d added with a still remaining hint of the breathless wonderment of what having a thing of that size up inside her had felt like.
Now I have never been a girl who yearns for a man with an over-sized cock – I’m a ‘quality’ woman, not a ‘quantity’ one. But it was the idea that the eventual size of this man’s equipment had in fact been displayed on some sort of badge that really intrigued me – and aroused my natural curiosity. So, while trying to keep my movements natural and casual, I leaned back on my chair and concentrated hard on what was being said in sometimes louder, sometimes much more softly spoken whispers.
As I had already missed out on the beginning of the girl’s recounting, I didn’t find out exactly why the men in the place she mentioned, did what they apparently did, maybe they were all just super-excessively horny. But I certainly heard enough to know where, and at what times it was best to go there – and I made a very clear mental note of all the other details that someone like me, a first-timer, would need to be familiar with.
The following Saturday, a little before the apparently quietest time, mid-afternoon, I made my way to the hardware barn, that time on a purely reconnoitering visit. I found it was exactly as the girl at the table had described; many of the male assistants, it seemed predominantly the younger ones, wore a second badge beneath the one inscribed with their name. They were rather smaller, discretely so, and to the uninitiated might appear to be no more than some sort of staff number. But I knew the real meaning of the ‘6s’, ‘6t’ and all the range of length and thicknesses that were to be seen on the assortment of badges. I even found the guy wearing the badge ‘8t’ that was perhaps the one the girl in the club had sampled.
Now although I might have been tempted to consider trying him, if only for the uniqueness of the experience, he wasn’t the guy I found myself really fancying, he was a bit too dark and hairy for my liking. No, the one that really caught my eye, and sent shivers of excited anticipation running up through me, was a tall, fair-haired young man wearing badges that said ‘Ben’ and ‘6½t’. So much so that in fact I was seriously considering changing my plans, and see if he was available right there and then, when some other woman, several years older than I, sauntered past me, carrying a basket with the signal product clearly displayed.
I found myself feeling stupidly disappointed when Ben turned to talk to her, then accompanied her off towards the far end of the aisle – but consoled myself with the thought that before doing so he had given me a long, and apparently appreciative look, then glanced down to see that my basket was actually empty.
Much of the next few days were spent in a questioning quandary. Should I, would I go again? If I did, would I pick up that fluorescently coloured product Bayburt Escort that would signal my availability? Would I first go and make sure that Ben was working?
Should I take condoms with me, or would he have some? Did I really want him to wear one?
Which of my underwear sets would I wear? Should I wear any? And what about the outer things? Which outfit made me look the most appealingly attractive? Which of them would he find the most eye-catching?
And then if everything went according to plan; which position would he take me in? Would he leave the choice to me? Which of the various ways would I find most exciting?
And finally, and one that was repeated over and over again – what on earth was I doing in even contemplating going out for what would after all, be no more than a totally impersonal fucking, and one that would therefore probably turn out not to be neither particularly exciting, nor truly satisfying?
But of course the combination of my circumstances meant that right then I was vulnerable to the idea of any kind of sex! My love-life had been an absolute desert for several frustratingly lonely months. I had found myself almost instantly physically attracted to that tall, fair-headed assistant – and the badge proclaiming he was a ‘6½t’ had played no small part in that! And finally there was of course that much vaunted, and not always over-stated, ‘feminine curiosity’.
So, recognizing the basic democracy that under-wrote the barn’s special service – that although each woman had the choice as to whether or not to make her interest known in the first place – each assistant also had the freedom to either follow-up, or not, on her signaled availability – I began thinking seriously as to how I should present myself.
Luckily the run of warm weather meant that I would not have to wear anything too bulky, a skirt and top would be quite sufficient. Then a quick, mental, check of my limited wardrobe gave me the appropriate skirt; the relatively light-weight, side-buttoning, just above knee-length, basic A-line, would be both quick and easy to dispose of – or would give Ben’s hands more than enough room to reach up underneath it. The fact that its length and tendency to swirl about them as I moved, would also, hopefully, high-light what some guys had said were definitely my second best feature, my legs.
The choice of which top to pair with it, was even easier; that skirt was Wedgwood Blue, so the powder blue, scoop-neck – which always managed to both attract a few perving glances, while at the same time helping to highlight my rather darker blue coloured eyes – would be absolutely perfect.
Shoes would be the mid-height sling-backs; then I had to give much more serious thought as to whether or not to wear any, and if so, what underwear should I have on with those things.
Although it was not something I had ever previously done – at least not when going out in public during the day-time – I seriously considered not wearing any. But then the length and swirly nature of that particular skirt could prove to be just too embarrassing, especially if the day of my visit turned out to be a windy one. Then I had a sudden vision of exactly what I should wear underneath the outfit, and knew I had nothing even remotely resembling that; so I also had a sex inspired shopping trip to look forward to!
I always absolutely love shopping for lingerie – doesn’t every woman! Whether for some particularly sexy partner – when I’d had one! – or purely as a way of giving my sometimes deflated self-esteem a much needed boost, there’s nothing like an hour or two browsing through all that flimsy finery to make me feel ready for almost anything…
But on this occasion I was actually hunting for a clearly visualised quarry; either powder blue or white, lacily transparent, the bra providing just a touch of support – to accentuate my already reasonably well defined cleavage – and the panties being of the sort that are actually supported by a ribbon, tied with a pair of easily unfastened bows that otherwise just seem to decorate either hip.
I used most of several lunch times to scour through all the shops in the central shopping area, and although by the Friday I was almost ready to compromise, luckily I remained single-minded, and finally found exactly the underwear set I had so clearly visualised.
Powder blue, just a shade or two lighter than the top I had chosen – the lace-work of such open pattern that I knew that both my nipples and aureoles, along with my neatly trimmed pubic triangle would all quite clearly show through. Then, although it was hard to see exactly how the designer had managed to do it, I could tell that the bra would undoubtedly give my breasts both a bit of a lift, and also press them just that much more closely together – give me a genuine ‘here they are, so please come and get them boys!’, cleavage. And on top of all that, it was conveniently front-fastening! The ribbon that held Bilecik Escort up the two, quite tiny triangles of the panties, was of course much more neatly tied than I could ever hope to do myself – but, I decided, by the time Ben and I had got to that stage I doubted if he would be too fussed by my lack of professionalism in the ribbon-tying department!
So, although they were rather more than I had hoped or expected to pay, I grabbed them before I had a chance to fully consider the state of my credit card.
Of course once home again I had to immediately try out my proposed total outfit; ignoring the mirror as I slipped into the brand new underwear, waiting until I had got myself completely ready – only then taking a good hard look at the finished product, and trying to see me as I hoped Ben might.
Even though I have never been one to normally go in for self-congratulatory viewings, that time I allowed myself to give the resulting effect a full-blooded tick of approval – even I had to admit that right then I looked positively scrumptious!
The two shades of blue gave me a – if not totally ‘virginal’ – look of perhaps innocent youthfulness, which I had accentuated by combing right out my softly waved honey-blonde hair. The paler shade of the top certainly did what it always did, brought out the darker, almost cornflower-blue of my eyes. But, as the bra was doing an even better job of displaying my wares than I had anticipated, I doubted that Ben’s eyes would travel upwards, preferring to feast on what was almost openly displayed lower down.
Then, when I stripped off those outer things, I was even more pleased with how I looked semi-naked. The lacy material of the underwear certainly added much more than an indefinable ‘something’ to what lay beneath it – and right then I felt sure that any man who might have caught even a glimpse, would be quite unable to keep his hot and horny hands off me.
I admit that later; after washing my hair, re-ironing my following day’s outfit, then applying a more than usually liberal amount of face and body creams, I lay in my bed, playing with myself while imagining what I hoped might happen the following afternoon.
I could still quite clearly visualise Ben’s face, his body, especially the length and well defined muscularity of his legs, and his cutely – and sexily tautly rounded – bottom. Of course I had to use my much used imagination for the rest of him, but that badge – the ‘6½t’, especially the ‘t’ – gave me a healthy amount to work on!
Just the idea of having six and a half inches of him slip-sliding in and out of me was fantastic! The information that it was a ‘thick’ six and half inches, just made it all the more effective! And although it all happened rather too quickly to fully satisfy me, imagining having him – and it – fucking me in one of my several favorite positions, soon had me climaxing, loudly and wetly.
But, given how suddenly that orgasm had overtaken me, I gave myself a few minutes to imagine that he might then like to spend some more time with me – time to hold me and kiss me, time to feel and fondle the firm fullness of my breasts, time to feel just how ready I was for him to start all over again, that time even more leisurely, making sure I had a second – and that time even more mind-numbing – orgasm.
Chapter 2
Not surprisingly, after the vivid explicitness of my previous night’s imaginings, I found myself getting unusually ‘hot and bothered’ on my way to the hardware barn the following afternoon. So much so that I cursed myself for not wearing a more functional pair of panties for the trip, saving the flimsily lacy ones to change into once I got there. But I had no choice but to hope that in the unlikely event that he had a chance to get a proper whiff of me, he turned out to be one of those men who actually got even more excited by catching the scent of a woman in heat.
Of course, dressed as I was, it was inevitable that I should get perved on by men other than Ben, even during the short walk from my car to the entrance to the barn, I got several totally unwanted – but nonetheless ego-boosting comments – and even one rather more crudely blunt proposal.
Once inside, I made a quick scurry round, to make sure that Ben was actually working that day – until then I had been so busy concentrating all my thoughts on him that I hadn’t even bothered to think what I might do if he wasn’t! But, he was!
I think he might have caught sight of me before I actually did him – because when I finally saw him, he was standing stock-still, staring at me, his eye-brows raised, and a look of both astonishment – and what I hoped might be his almost instant arousal – on his face. Then his eyes dropped, he saw I not only wasn’t carrying the fluorescently coloured signal product, but not even a basket in which to carry it. His look of disappointment was even clearer than his earlier one of sexual interest had been – and that look gave me the impetus Bingöl Escort to hurry off to first collect a basket, then to stick one of those horridly garish products in it.
Within a minute or two I was back where I had seen him, and wonder of wonders, he was still standing in exactly the same place – perhaps hopefully waiting for my return.
He took one brief look at what I was carrying, and hurried towards me – that time his face split with an almost Cheshire-cat grin of quite obviously lustful expectation.
‘Thank god you came back again – I’ve not been able to stop thinking about you all this last week!’ he said.
‘Really!’ I replied in as controlled a voice as I was able to manage. ‘Why’s that?’
‘When I saw you last week, I really, really hoped you had come for the extra service – I wanted to do it with you so much it hurt!’
‘From what I saw you were about to provide that service for the other woman.’ I retorted.
‘Only because you weren’t carrying the signal product.’ he explained.
‘Well, today I am, so what happens now? I’ve never been here before.’ I added.
‘Ah – so last week was just a sort of survey trip, a chance to see the lie of the land, so to speak.’
‘Precisely so, and to see exactly what was on offer.’ I said, allowing myself to give him one of my most mischievous grins.
I have to say here that not only was Ben just as attractive as the image I’d had in my mind – and had had so much satisfaction in using the previous night – but he further endeared himself to me because all the time we had been exchanging those initial pleasantries, his eyes had never once wandered away from my own. Not once had he done what virtually all other men in his position would have, allow their eyes to drop down to the display I was putting on for them with my scoop-neck top and ‘come and get them’ breasts.
So, when he then asked if I was happy with what I had seen on offer – I was eager to assure him that I definitely was! ‘I think we shouldn’t waste too much more time on the introductions, Ben. Why not just explain to me how things normally progress from here – I’m available, and I hope that you are too.’
‘For you – most definitely, any time! But first, what should I call you?’
‘I’m Angela – yes I know, I have heard all the witticisms, most of them several hundred times, thank you. You can either call me by that name, or give me another – if you’d prefer that.’
‘No, Angela is a lovely name – and I wasn’t going to make any witty remark about whether or not it actually suits you – I guess we’ll find that out in due course!’ he added with as wicked a grin as the one I had given him. ‘Now as to where we go from here, that’s partly your choice, you’re the customer. Some women just like what we refer to as a ‘quickie’ – usually done standing-up at the end of one or other of these aisles. But there are places where we can take a little more time about things, and of course some women like to go for something more creatively dramatic – for instance, there is one woman who likes to have hers way up there.’ he said, pointing towards the roof of the barn. ‘We bring out one of the fork-lifts, lay some cushions on a pallet, and up, up and away she goes.’
He paused for a moment, finally unable to stop his eyes from drifting downwards. ‘But with a woman as gorgeous as you are, there are a couple of rooms set aside – we usually keep them for our long-term, special needs customers, but if it was my choice, I wouldn’t want to be with you anywhere that was less private and comfortable than they are.’
That remark, and the undoubted sincerity that lay behind it, of course delighted me – some other time, I thought, I might quite like the idea of a ‘knee-trembler’ backed up against some piece of equipment – but this time, our first time, it seemed both appropriate, and deeply stirring, that we should have some private time and space to ourselves.
‘A room like that sounds wonderful.’ I said, hearing the trembling excitement in my voice. ‘Lead me on, please Ben!’ I added, reaching out to take a firm hold of his hand.
Now that little exchange had taken no more than three or four minutes, but even in that very short time the feelings I’d developed whilst driving to the barn, had returned – a hundred times more strongly!
But then, not only did I have the actual maleness of him no more than a couple of feet away –
The sight of him – his fair skin made even more so by its contrast with the dark, bottle-green colour of his uniform – the closeness of its fit enhancing his light but well-defined muscularity – his eyes, gazing so deep it seemed they must be reading the carnality of my most close-guarded thoughts – his mouth, those moist and so inviting lips – his overall body-language, leaning towards me, as though at any moment he would be unable to restrain himself from simply reaching out and wrapping his arms around me.
The scent of him – the faint whiff of a still lingering remnant of that morning’s after-shave, the light cocktail of smells that came from both the place and the goods he had handled – and maybe underlying all of those, detectable only in the most subliminal reaches of my brain, those wickedly powerful male sex pheromones!