I’m in some kind of Chinese finger cuffs situation with our plumber who was working on our home renovation before the shutdown. The more we both try to resist the attraction, the more locked in we become. I just googled “Chinese finger cuffs” to see if it meant what I thought it did–and apparently Chasing Amy brought about a new definition: a spit roast. Also appropriate. If that’s the only way I could have him, I’d take it. We’re both married. You can read more backstory [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/SluttyConfessions/comments/g8roxe/super_hot_for_the_plumber_renovating_our_house_im/) and [here.](https://www.reddit.com/r/SluttyConfessions/comments/g8tkua/plumber_stories_part_2_the_swollen_pussy_edition/)
The home scene for the plumber isn’t a dead bedroom. He has an attractive wife, they have sex, but as an example: it causes a real kerfuffle if he’s “caught” masturbating–especially if porn is involved. (Side note: last time this happened he said to me, “At least I didn’t tell her I was thinking about you.”) This kind of scenario, where she’s walking in and he’s already turned on, makes me completely crazy! I can’t imagine not being excited to find that man stroking it! Also: I would love it if my husband were horny enough for me to “catch” him jerking off, but alas, anytime he’s cumming, I’m there to receive it, and I could take some more. e.g. here I am writing this, when I could be….
If it wasn’t obvious already: husband and I have been dipping our toes into some kind of hotwife dynamic, which has totally unleashed my imagination. Meanwhile, plumber says his boundary is looking, that touching would be crossing the line. Of course my creative brain has interpreted that as he can’t reach out to touch me. But maybe I can help ease him into a place of relaxed rules where me touching him could be OK?
Hearing about his mismatched sex drive is creating this strong desire to take care of him in more ways than one. Getting to know him, he’s a good human, but all humans have needs. And maybe it’s millennial of me to say, but at some point I think people need to put their individual needs before a marriage–the old put your own oxygen mask on before helping others bit. Marriages benefit when people take care of themselves rather than subsume their desires….but basically: I just want to get my hands and mouth on him! He has told me *I* don’t need to feel guilty. OK.
And sometimes when I think about it, it starts innocently enough. Like maybe he’s done a bunch of hard work on our house….let’s all pretend social distancing restrictions have let up this summer. Let’s pretend my legs are bare and tan. Let’s pretend I’m in a sun dress with bare feet and the weather is warm…
We’re on the second floor, where he’s just buttoned up the master bath renovation. No one else is home. He doesn’t want to leave. And I don’t want him to leave either. But again, he has told me about his boundary, which makes me frustrated. I don’t love this looking but no touching scenario because it leaves me so high and dry. He sits down on the floor in the future master bedroom–still not quite finished–with his back against the wall where the bed will be, facing out toward the wall of windows. Above him there’s a built-in shelf/niche, right at the top of his shoulders–he could tip his head back into the niche. He’s tired and sweaty and I don’t ask before I come up to his side and push his shoulders off the wall so I can climb behind him as he leans forward.
I sit down on the shelf, tucking the skirt of my dress beneath my buttocks, spreading my legs open, but tamping down the front of the dress between them before I say: “Lean back”, and swing my bare legs over his shoulders. If he tips his head left or right he could graze my thighs with his cheek. My pussy is at the back of his neck and I ache for him to turn around. He is quite literally between my thighs, which makes me shake with anticipation, but I truly have no expectations. He has clearly told me he can’t participate and I am being perfectly innocent and accepting. What’s a little massage among fully clothed friends? I just want to help him relax after working so hard on our old grande dame of a house.
I think he has an inkling that I have a bit of a cum fetish, from things we’ve talked about, although I’ve never said anything about my deep love of sucking dick (I’ve had the same one for nearly a dozen years at this point though!). Plumber recently saw a photo of me with a face mask on and told me my eyes looked “fucking hot”. I don’t know what stopped me, but what I wanted to say in response was: “Those are the same eyes that could be looking up from your cock.” There is truly nothing better than watching the kaleidoscope of faces on a pleasured man. If I can make him moan: cherry on top.
Plumber also recently told me that he’s uncut. Intact. The way nature intended. And since then I’ve been getting myself off thinking about this, it’s become a sexual fixation. Somehow it’s become wrapped up in my totally aggrandized idea of our sexual compatibility. I’m now convinced that this is the kind of dick I *need*. The last time I even had an uncut cock in my mouth was in college (I’m in my late 30s, married with two kids now). That friend was super fun and ridiculously hot (shout out to the Afros of the early 2000s) but one day he killed the vibe by saying: “In my culture you would be stoned for doing this.” Even as a joke, that was a hard one to get over. And that’s the last time I had an intact dick! I’ve never had one in my pussy and now it’s all I can think about.
It’s so intoxicating to be making bodily contact, in this intimate but innocent way. If he stood up I’d be riding on his shoulders like a child, and he’d be forced to grab my legs. I lightly flex my feet and shift my hips to get comfy. Even though I’m behind him I can tell he’s smiling and he lets out a little sigh, says my name, and rubs his face with both palms. I put my hand on his forehead, give him a squeeze with my legs and say: “Just let go for a few minutes.” I run both my thumbs up the big muscles at the back of his neck and spread my thumbs out along the base of his skull, relieving the tired erector muscles. He drops his head and I continue with my hands, imagining just sliding down his front side. Instead, I keep massaging the back of his head and I’m fighting everything in me not to bend over and suck on his ear. I open my legs a little wider so I can start working his shoulders and he says: “You know I want this, right?” and I say, “I know, but clearly I want it more.” He turns his head to the right and I feel his hot breath on the inside of my thigh. Goosebumbs appear. I’m so wet I need to torture him. I reach under my skirt to pull aside my panties and with a swipe of my middle finger I come back with sweet lady nectar, which I bring right under his nose. His eyes shoot open and his head picks up. I laugh and scoot back a little bit, withdrawing my hand. He grabs an ankle, then catches the other. His thumb and forefingers overlap around my little ankles, the whole ball joints swallowed up in his long fingers. I start shaking. He squeezes a little harder and I whisper: “Let me go.” He opens his hands and drops them to his lap.
I need to hop down, so I drop onto my right foot’s tippy-toes and swing my left leg over his head, which of course makes my skirt come up in the back–and he’s caught in it with a straight shot of my round ass. But I turn around, tamping my skirt down. He’s still sitting on the floor and I get close to him, his face is now pelvis height. I pull him into my body and he turns his head to the side, against my abdomen. I hold him to me with both arms. He seems so much more vulnerable than ever before. I feel my pussy tingling with anticipation and I know I need to blow him, that he’ll let me, I can feel it. I drop to my knees.
My flowered dress is a scoop neck with buttons all the way down the front, but I think when I lean forward he’ll get enough of a peek. But for now, on my knees, I lean back onto my feet, pulling up my skirt to the creases of my thighs at my hip, exposing my thin, brightly colored undies. I rub my clit and lips through the undies and know that as my pussy is swelling he can see the outline of my lips even better. I sigh and open my legs a little wider so he can see that I’m totally bare down there. But then I pull my skirt down, look him in the eyes and with a smile say: “I want to suck your dick and swallow your cum. If you want that too, all you have to do is take your dick out. You can just let it happen.” And he does! He’s unzipping his fly without hesitation and he’s already hard. I’m so happy. There’s a sexy scent in the air. I pull all of my long hair to one side of my neck, pull my skirt back up, and swipe a finger between my pussy lips again, take it back out and suck on it before moving down to his dick. I know this is going to make me sopping wet. As I bow down I make sure to hike my skirt back up to my waist as my ass goes in the air so he can see the thong leading down to where he wish he could go.
I take his cock in my hands and smile at the glisten of precum and begin to slowly lick the whole shaft, tonguing that foreskin, before, with aching slowness I let his head penetrate my lips and smooth, juicy mouth with deep strokes. I’m thinking about how fun some throat-fucking would be, but this position works too. He feels like he can’t touch me, so I’m totally in control. I come back up, with a ribbon of saliva still connecting my lips and his cock and smile and say, “You can just let go, I’m so excited to taste your cum. If we were hooking up for real, this would just be the first course.” I go back down on him and can feel his eyes on my hard nipples beneath my dress as my head bobs up and down in his lap. I feel him reposition his hips and really get his dick all the way in the back of my throat. He says, “Fuuuuuuuck.” My hand is squeezing a little harder now and the rhythm picks up and I feel those pulses that I love. I want him to tell me it’s better than he imagined, that he needs more, but he can’t speak, now it’s just moans, and I get a huge warm load to coat my throat. I keep sucking and it leaks out all over my lips as his legs shake and at last, out of control, forgetting his own rules, he puts his hands in my messy hair as I come up up with a breathless smile, pink cheeks and a mouth full of cum that I show him before swallowing it all down and licking my lips. He pushes my hair out of my face and we’re just staring at each other smiling when I say: “You need to go. And I need to go find my toys,” and get up, leaving him to pack up and go home to his wife.
And just to make all of this extra exciting–Plumber’s also snipped!–so he could just freely cum in me, and the thought makes me crazy. I don’t let my husband do that (unless it’s period sex and yeah, I know that’s not foolproof!) and miss it so much. I don’t like birth control messing with my libido, so it’s been the tradeoff. Which is fine, because I also think cum is the fountain of youth! (See: [Science](https://www.sheknows.com/health-and-wellness/articles/1079514/health-benefits-of-sperm/).) I’m happy to take a dose of supervitamins most days, any way I can get it.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/gaufg0/plumber_stories_the_dicksucking_edition_pt_3