The House Painter [MF] [anal] [rough] [panties] [voy]

I arrive at the Petersen’s house a few minutes early. I’m never that good at calculating how long it takes to drive across town, but I’m not really getting paid by the hour, so what the fuck, I figure. My eyes feel sticky and my head hurts a little from that extra beer I had last night. I touch the pocket in my painter overalls and feel for the key Jeff gave me. He’s running errands this morning–getting some more tape, and bidding on a future job.

Guess I’ll get started, I shrug, as I pull my lethargic ass out of my pickup truck. I shuffle ponderously to the back of the house while searching the pocket for the key. As I walk past the kitchen on the narrow side passage, I can see a dark figure moving inside the house. I wasn’t expecting anyone home, but it shouldn’t be a problem. I go around back and tap on the door. I’m greeted by a cheerful and peppy Mrs. Petersen.

“Hi, I’m Tina!” she bursts, extending her hand. She is smiling broadly, and her eyes seem to be searching for something good in mine. She’s wearing a bathrobe and slippers, holding the robe together with one hand. My own grin is not *too* forced, since her positive vibe is infectious and I’m already starting to feel better.

“Ken. Pleased to meet you.” I take her small hand and give it a weak shake.

“Jeff and Ken the painter men!” she chirps. I want to like her, but that made my brain twitch a little.

“Want some coffee? I just made a pot. Help yourself, there’s milk in the fridge.”

“Thanks, I’d love…some…” By the time I said that she had disappeared down the hallway. I’m supposed to get started prepping the living room today. Removing all the wall plates, taking down the curtains, moving furniture away from the walls, stuff like that. When Jeff gets here, we can start taping around the windows and trim.

I carry my coffee mug over to the desk and absently glance at the pile of paper on it. A little ways down, I see some words sticking out: o sorry; give me; as doing; shole. I touch my finger to it and push it away from the rest of the pile. Dearest Tina, I know you don’t believe me, but I’m so sorry. I’m begging you to forgive me. I lost control and didn’t know what I was doing. I feel like such an asshole, etc., etc.. Some bullshit about he fucked some other chick and got caught and now he feels like an asshole. Likely.

She shouts something I can’t hear from the hallway, and I hurriedly stuff the note back into the stack. I walk into the hallway.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you” I yell, not too sure where she might be. The bathroom door pops open, and her head pokes out.

“I said, are you going to be painting today?” I don’t think she realizes, but I can see in the mirror behind her that she is naked. Can’t see the good parts, but yeah, no clothes.

“No, um, I don’t think so. We’re going to be prepping in the living room and we’ll see how far we get. Jeff should be here a little later.”

“OK, I’m taking a shower.” Good to know. Her head disappears, but she left the door open a crack. Intentional? I lean against the wall, and I can see a sliver of her naked body. She’s caressing her breast while looking in the mirror. She moves out of view and I hear the sound of the shower.

Across the hall from the bathroom, the door is open to her bedroom. I can see her robe draped on the bed and her panties on the floor halfway between the bed and the door. There is a picture of Mr. and Mrs. Petersen on the bedside table. Mr. Petersen looks like a dick.

Wait; a strange dude in your house, and you’re walking around naked and shit? This must be some kind of a test. Don’t challenge me though, I was born to fail tests like this.

I walk over and pick up her panties. They’re the kind I like–Hanes or something–like, conservative and plain, but for some reason I think they’re the sexiest. With my thumb, I touch the part that was protecting her privates. There is a little moisture there and I hold it to my nose and breathe in a faint whiff of tangy sweat.

I go back to the bathroom door and push it open a couple more inches. Nice that Mr. and Mrs. Petersen have one of those transparent shower curtains. I watch in the mirror as she shampoos her hair standing toward the curtain so I can watch the lather wash down over her breasts and pussy. She has a nice unshaved bush of brunette hair. Yes, the carpet matches the drapes. I touch her panties against my nose and lips.

“HEY KEN!” She screams.

SHIT! CAUGHT! Goddamit! Then I realize she doesn’t know I’m there, and I take a few silent strides down the hallway.

“Yeah?” I shout from the living room. I’m still clutching her panties, and figure I better put them back where I found them, so I sneak back up the hallway and toss them into her room. I hear the shower valve squeak closed. The door is still open a few extra inches, which I hope she doesn’t notice. I peek in timidly and she’s bent over toweling her hair.

“You any good at giving backrubs? My back is feeling tweaky today.”

Oh dear… “Well…Yeah, I guess so…” I lie; I’m not that good at it, but let’s see where this goes.

The bathroom door opens and there she is wrapped in a towel. She’s holding a little bottle of oil.

“Oh, Hi. Do you mind rubbing my back? I know it’s not in your job description, but it feels a little tight.” Her eyes are locked on mine and her smile seems a little sheepish. I take pity. I admit to her that I’m not that good at it, but I’ll give it a try since she asked so nice. My muscles ache constantly due to my work, and I could use a massage myself, but I’m not going to ask.

She goes in the bedroom and closes the door for privacy, then a few seconds later says OK.

“You decent?” I ask.

“Define decent,” she says. “Come on in.”

She is laying face down, sideways on the bed with the towel over her butt. Decent enough. For some reason, I notice the picture of the happy couple is missing. I squirt some oil in my hand and then start rubbing the length of her back. I had a massage a long time ago, and try to do it similar, but I was so blissed out at the time I don’t remember most of it. Her body is amazing. She is fit without being a stick; curvy but not too much extra. I suddenly realize that my cock is fully erect under my overalls. It’s not comfortable, but I can’t make any adjustments with all this oil on my hands. I’m totally “in love” with her body by now, and begin to express my feelings through long exploratory caresses. I work on her shoulders a bit, then push slowly down to her lower back–all the way down so that I push the towel a bit lower with each stroke. Every once in a while, I hear a soft sigh or a delicate girlish moan. There is a full length mirror on the wall, and I can watch myself as I work. I decide to put some effort into her lower back using my thumbs, while holding the sides of her torso with my fingers.

“Yeah, that feels good,” She purrs. In the mirror, her legs come apart slightly. I wish that damn towel wasn’t there obscuring my view, but my imagination is causing my bone to twitch and spasm restlessly. I decide to be bold. I move my hands lower and start kneading her buttocks. She doesn’t say stop, so I keep going down her thighs, sliding the towel off as I go. I run my hands softly back up the inside of her thighs, pulling my fingers out at the last minute to avoid touching her labia, and I pull her buttocks gently apart. As I do so, I lean over and take a peek at her pussy, and OhMyGod it’s beautiful! As I saw earlier, she has a nice lustrous bush of dark hair, and it perfectly frames the pinkness of her lips. The heavy cotton of my painter bibs absorbs a small stain of pre-cum.

“Mmmmm…” She moans, so I gather it’s all systems go. I tease the inside of her buttocks with my thumbs, and continue back up the sides of her torso, trying to feel her boobs on the way past.

“Anything else you need rubbed?” I seductively coo, understanding immediately how stupid it sounds. But she rolls to her side, exposing her (amazing) breasts. She has large soft areolas and her nipples are very hard. It’s not that cold in here.

“MmmYou have too many clothes on…” she mutters. She looks drugged or maybe just really mellow. She starts tugging at the straps of my overalls, and reaching inside, she finds my hideously firm erection. Oops.

“No underwear huh?” She flirts accusingly, while lightly stroking and squeezing my cock. It feels like the first time it’s ever been touched by a woman. I grit my teeth and try not to cum.

“You mind if I slip into something more comfortable?” I burble. Shit, I hope she likes ’em stupid, I say to myself, but it was the best I could do on such short notice.

“Please do.”

While I am getting my boots off, she pulls up against the pillows with her feet up against her butt and starts fingering herself and fondling her breasts.

“I’m a shitty wife.” she whimpers as I’m dropping my overalls to the floor. Oh boy, here it comes, I think, remembering the note I read earlier. My back is turned to her, and my dick starts to soften.

“I want you to punish me.”

“Excuse me?” I query. Oh, is this role-play? … (cock chugs back to life.)

“I’m bad and you need to hurt me.” She pouts.

I take her by the ankles, and jerk her to the foot of the bed in front of me. I place my strong hands around her neck and pull her face close to mine, showing her that I can overpower her if I want to. All of my muscles are flexed taut.

“This what you want?” I growl. She gasps, and nods affirmatively. Her eyes bore into mine. I push her convincingly back onto the bed, Then I jump up and straddle her. She reaches for my cock, and I pull her hands away and pin them under my knees. I cup one of her (amazing) titties, so that just the areola is visible, and give it a sharp slap on the nipple.

“Mmm! Yes!” She grunts.

“Shut up!” I snap, “If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it!” I grab the other tit and spank it. She chokes back her comment.

I hold my hand to her throat and slap her on the cheek. I’m not trying to hurt her; well yeah, a little, but in a good way. I slap her again and then lean over and plant a big kiss on her lips.

“You like it rough?” I hiss through my teeth.

“Yes.” She peeps. She is writhing beneath me.

“Yes, WHAT?”

“Yes. . . Sir.”

Her body is so beautiful and soft, I really wish I could take my time and explore every inch of it, lingering over her beautiful pussy and tits–lovingly and at my leisure, but I take what I can get, and she wants it rough.

“Well, since you like it rough, I’m going to FUCK the SHIT out of you! Any objections?”

“No. . . Sir.”

One of my hands gathers her wet hair and pulls while the other one slaps her thighs apart and forces fingers into her swollen cunt. Her neck is arched uncomfortably, and she arches her back as well, and volunteers her legs wider apart. She is smiling and her eyes are half closed. Her cheeks are flushed, and her tongue flicks at her upper lip. I probably should fuck her in the ass, I think to myself. But this being my only chance probably, I really want to get at that sweet pussy of hers. It’s spurting fluid like a leaky valve with four of my fingers tormenting it.

“You ARE a bad wife!” I admonish crossly. I pull my hand out and smack her clit viciously. She winces.

“Good thing you’re pretty.” I think it’s funny to use “pretty” as an insult.

I jump between her legs and ram my meat into her. My God it feels good, but I have to play the game. I mightily slam into her, while I sting her legs and ass with merciless cuffs from my open hand. I pull out, and hopping to my knees, I force her mouth onto my glistening tuber.

“Suck it! Taste yourself, you bad woman! That’s what a slut’s pussy tastes like!”

She tries to fondle my balls, and I briskly push her hands away.

“All the way in, bitch!” She presses her nose into my pelvis and makes a gagging sound. I pull out of her mouth, and she coughs. I roughly hold her face in one hand and kiss her on the mouth. My other hand is holding tightly onto her hair. Still firmly holding her face, I explore the inside of her mouth with my tongue. I bite her lower lip enough to hurt a little, but not leave a permanent mark. I forcefully twist her around so that her ass is facing me, and push her onto the side of the bed so that one foot is on the floor and her head is against the headboard. I stab my intolerant rock of meat back into her hairy crease and start pummeling.

Her ass looks so pure and soft that I feel guilty being so mean, but my cock has never been happier. I whack her a cruel smack on her ass and she lets out a stifled yelp. I give her several more slaps that will radiate for hours. Her head is starting to bounce against the headboard, and she is grunting and moaning in cadence. Her back is arched, and she seems to be displaying her asshole to me; at least I’m looking at it and thinking I should probably fuck that ass.

Without warning, I pull out of her cunt, and slide into her asshole. All the way in. She inhales a shriek, and pushes into me with her hands on the headboard. I relentlessly rip away at her asshole until I feel my balls contract and my beefy club swell to what feels like double its girth.

“Ah!” I gasp. I feel a ringing in my ears and all other noises fade away. The only thing that matters right now is my cock. My beautiful throbbing swollen cock of man-meat, spouting its bounty of cum into the prettiest asshole in the world. My eyes roll back, and the universe dissolves blissfully away while my balls are being drained of their essence in the most glorious manner.

I open my eyes, and my shrunken dick pops out of her backside. I collapse onto the bed and pull her body against mine.

“Aaahhhhh. . .” Then I hear the back door being opened and:

“Hey Ken, here’s your tape.”

Oh, shit, shit, fuck! I spring up and dive into my clothes and sprint into the living room. I don’t have time to lace my boots, and I’m diligently unscrewing a wall plate as Jeff walks in.

“How’s it going so far?” he asks, dropping a plastic bag of supplies on the floor.

“Pretty good so far, boss.” I reply, concentrating unnecessarily hard on the wall.

“Your shoe’s untied.” he says absently, while revving the trigger of his cordless drill.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/5vuqhu/the_house_painter_mf_anal_rough_panties_voy