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Seeking fantasy and reality
The hardware store was not crowded, but I was cruising it anyway.
Not unaware of, even looking for, cute females hunkered down,
studying mysterious tools. Showing, sometimes, the band on their
panties as they stretched, sometimes the line of their bra,
sometimes even more. The fantasy was to someday blurt out to
her, "...if I can guess the color of your panties, could I kiss your
butt?". Just to see and imagine the female undressed is worth it,
to us...especially we who are irresistably drawn to being helpless,
chained, before an angry, powerful female. Thoughts that offend
and alarm most women. Most women, perhaps,
dislike such impolite, intrusive, slobbering male scrutiny, and take
care to keep their clothing arranged.
She was bent over, studying the toilet seat display, without any
apparent awareness of her tight, fresh blue jeans riding down on her
perhaps over-ample buttocks, showing bright pink underwear and even
a wide swath of flesh. Stopping behind her to casually enjoy the
view was heaven for me. Her loose, short sleeve flowered blouse
skipped away from her white bra, exposing an imperfectly shaved
underarm...always a turn-on, making me think such awareness makes me
a tiny bit closer to her, a stolen intimacy, almost. Breasts too
were skimpy, and it reminded me of how much more sensuous and
reactive such women are when I'm working their sensitive, tight breasts
with lips, gentle teeth, slight suction...musing off, getting
aroused, it was a surprise that she was looking at me demandingly.
Could it be true that women can size up submissive males immediately?
"What do you know about these things?" she ordered, perhaps mistaking
my continued presence for a sales clerk.
I did not know much, but said, "they are all standard.
The seats all fit all the toilet bases, but you have to look for oblong
or round". She informed me that her existing seat had broken,
and the brass hinges were a mess.
It would be a nasty job to replace it.
Having advised her about which toilet seat had the best corrosion
resistence, it seemed only natural to carry it for her, as she
bought an alarming selection of other hardware without hesitation.
She was about 5'6", and about 130 (I'm usually good at guessing
women's dimensions -- perhaps from studying them so intently). Her
carriage was perky, if anything, she held herself poised, her short
rusty-brown hair swinging as she darted from item to item.
Astoundingly, I found myself carrying her other purchases, too, and
following her to the checkout. I thought of offering to pay, but
she swiftly took care of it while the packages were being loaded
onto me.
Her car was an old, well-used sedan, and she drove the parts, and
me, to a nondescript small house on a very quiet, normal block not a
long drive away. Thinking about this situation, and secretly eyeing
her jean-clad legs, pink sox that seemed to match the panties, and
flat, blue sneakers, it was difficult to think of hiding my
excitement -- and erection. Carrying the packages into the house
helped, but it seemed that she knew exactly what my thoughts were.
Embarrassingly, there were two other women in the surprisingly large
living room -- one, greeted as Carla, was chunky and retiring,
dressed in a blue house robe thingy, with long blond hair streaming
down beyond her shoulders. She, and Maureen, a stick of a woman in
her 40's who was sprawled out on the couch, hardly noticed me as
they greeted my captor, as I now fantasized, who was greeted as what
sounded like "Jenna". A slave of Jenna, I thought, this is too
real, too good to be true, just go with it.
Without any ceremony, Jenna brusquely ordered me into the bathroom,
where I looked in dismay at the rusted hardware. I had no tools
with me, and they had very little -- a pliers and old screwdriver.
Yet she assumed that the job could be finished in a short time, and
came back in occasionally to check up.
It was extremely difficult. The pliers loosened up the nut, but
corrosion firmly stopped it; carefully, slowly, I bent the encrusted
metal back and forth, not daring to chance breaking the porcelin
toilet base. Holding the top with the junky screwdriver, I scuffed
my knuckles more than once, even drawing blood. Jenna was concerned
that it not get on the floor, which was grimy. The shower towered
over the tiny sink and toilet, smelling slightly of mold. In one
appearance, Jenna brought cleaning tools, which seemed odd to me at
the time. Finally, I got the one off, and wormed into the corner
over the smelly bowl to get at the other, even worse bolt. Sprawled
over the toilet like that, I was squirming and grasping -- and
gasping -- for leverage, on my knees with my butt presumably swaying
and straining. In the midst of the struggle to break that bolt, I
became aware that 3 pairs of eyes were glued to my ass, and the
chunky one, Carla, was giggling audibly. The other two were
smirking, I guess it was what I deserved. Blushing, I bent back to
the work, as the Ladies decamped, openly laughing. It seemed they
had even taken pictures, perhaps.
Finally, the other bolt fell loose, and I fitted the new seat on the
grimy toilet. Rising, triumphant, I thought to go into the living
room and talk to the women, maybe they would be grateful...
But Jenna came in and harshly proclaimed, "finally. What took you
so long, I wonder. What a mess. Make sure you clean up, wash the
floor with lysol and then rinse with water. Better get busy, it's
late!".
After finishing this lengthy task, without a break, smarting from
the injustice -- after all, the grime was there before -- Jenna came
in and reminded me to leave the toilet bowl shining, and don't
forget the mold on the shower. She was now dressed in a nightgown,
with bare feet in fuzzy slippers. My mind reeled as I thought of
her taking off those blue jeans, over the comely legs, and wondered
if she left her panties on, or whether she put fresh ones over her
cute pubic mound and buttocks...that sustained me until finally,
finished, Jenna guided me where to put away the tools. All the
other women were asleep, she said, and so I would have to tiptoe out.
Before I knew it, I was walking down the street, it all seemed so
necessary, and, by the time I looked back, could not figure out even
which house it had been. It was a long way to walk back, and so
late that a police cruiser gave me the once-over more than once.
Sitting in my car, thinking of the sexy, unattainable women who had
used me so casually, I got an enormous, bulging hardon, with sexy
sensations spreading all over my stomach and legs, imagining Jenna's
curves and harsh demands, Carla's giggling, and how Maureen's
buttocks spread over the couch, how her shorts clung to them...I got
out of there fast, just in time to get home and greet my roomate
Darlene. "What have you been doing to get that horny", she
demanded. I could not reply, just feeling needy. Darlene knows of
my weakness, and often sneers at it, but she is not interested in
participating, a great disappointment to me. Still, that night,
eventually, we had outstanding sex, as the thought of the next visit
to that store crowded out all others.
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