14 comments/ 75167 views/ 5 favorites Waiting for the Electrician By: JustLikeEwe A story based on the life experiences of an electrician, who had his own concepts about beauty and seduction. ............ Chapter One: I'm not like everybody else. That much, I'll be the first to admit. I am not like everybody else, or at least not like the typical guy in his late 20's these days. I like jazz and old television shows from the 50's and 60's, and would no more sit through an episode of Survivor than I would a rap concert. I wouldn't walk across the street to see the Hilton sisters, and I would have guessed that a Kardashian was some kind of foreign car if I didn't just see her name in the newspaper. Born too late? Maybe. I just never have had any interest in many things men of my generation seem to embrace. I'm happy just working hard and doing my job to the best of my ability, and the success of my business reflects that my efforts have paid off. I like to go to the gym and work out in the evening instead of making the bar scene, and keeping myself in good condition is something that has paid off for me in many ways. One of those ways is by having the good fortune to be able to have about as much sex as I want, and while having a rather high sex drive is a trait that I share with many of my generation, the type of women that I find myself attracted to certainly separates me from most of my brethren. All my life, I've found myself attracted to older women. In my teens, I found myself drawn not to the nubile young classmates of mine, but to their mothers. Teachers, nurses, cashiers - you name it. The few times that I went after girls my age, I must admit that usually by the end it was their mothers who became my real target, and if you never had the pleasure of bedding the mother of a girl you were dating, I think you really missed out on something. My teen years were spent pursuing these women that were 20-30 years my senior, and I'm proud to say that I managed to bed a rather impressive number of those that I desired. How was I able to do this? That was simple. I paid attention to them when they talked, made eye contact with them as much as possible, and made sure they knew how beautiful and desirable I thought they were. Was it just a snow job? Throwing them lines and charming the pants off them - literally and figuratively? Not really. I loved them and found them so much more exciting than younger women, and was usually quite honest with them. I found them far more responsive, and their experience was a plus as well. I'm always willing to learn something new. I'm also been somewhat blessed by the gene pool. Not so much in the intelligence end; I'm just average in that way, and my math is bad enough for be to have all my business bookkeeping done by professionals. As far as looks go, I got lucky. I'm an even 6 foot tall, and my weight is always just a shade under 200 pounds. My physique reflects the hours of time I put in the gym as well as my tireless work ethic. Facially and physically, I resemble early Rocky Balboa, but instead of speaking like a punch-drunk palooka, I talk in a very calm, deep voice. Eye contact - that's the key. I look into a middle-aged woman's eyes with my baby blues, and more often than not, they melt like butter. That doesn't mean I necessarily move in for the kill every time, but if I want to, I can. Do I ever get shot down? Sure, but not very often. That's mainly because by the time of decision, I usually let them move in on me. I heat them up and then let them make the move - almost like they are the ones seducing me. Makes it all the better for me that way too. There's a lot of women who spend their days at home, either always having been stay-at-home moms, or never having had to work. Some have even retired early. They are home and they have little to do but watch soap operas and talk on the phone. Many get ignored when the husband gets home too, making the arrival of somebody like me something that breaks the monotony of their lives. I make the most of that when I can, and today was one of those days that I did. .. Chapter Two: Ceiling fans and Mrs. Cross. It was a job that a local electrical supply company sub-contracted to me. Installing four ceiling fan and light fixtures in a home just east of Albany, New York. The family name was Cross, and the house was a split-level on a quiet road in the suburbs. Just looking at the property and I was able to get an idea of the type of people that lived there. Probably a couple in their late 40's or early 50's. Any kids were gone and moved away, judging by the aged condition of the swing set in the yard and the lack of clutter around. My suspicions were confirmed when the woman of the house welcomed me. I figured her to be around 52, and she was a nice looking woman for any age. A little on the tall side - maybe 5'7" or so, and about 135 pounds distributed nicely. A little fullness in the butt, but her cheeks looked solid enough in a snug pair of black stretch casual pants. She was wearing a light pink sleeveless top, and her breasts were housed in a bra. Probably a B cup, I imagined. The breasts might be a little small for her frame but certainly nice enough. Without sleeves, I was able to see that her arms were nicely toned, without the flapping of the upper arm that some of them end up with. Mrs. Cross had a wealth of freckles all over her arms, which was also something I found attractive. She was wearing a wedding ring and a watch. I noticed all that, and within a minute of being around her, I also knew one other thing. If I wanted to, I could have her. She was no cougar - some kind of desperate housewife intent on tracking down young guys for kicks, but was just a middle-aged housewife who woke up this morning and thought she was going to have another boring day. Until I showed up, that is. I could tell by the way she watched me carry in the four boxes of fixtures, holding the door open for me each time as I came in. The second time I accidentally brushed against her breast with the back of my hand, and it WAS an accident by the way, and her nipple was quickly poking through her bra cup in response. The way Mrs. Cross was looking at me was also a giveaway. I was wearing my usual outfit, which was a snug, lightweight black shirt with the little logo of my business on my left breast pocket. The neck was low enough so that my pelt of black chest hair peeked out of the neck hole, and the sleeves were short enough so that every move I made showcased my prominent biceps. Most women of my generation don't seem to have a very positive opinion of hairy guys, preferring the waxed and smooth type of guy, whereas women the age of Mrs. Cross were far more accepting of it. Good thing too, because being of Italian and Greek lineage I'm pretty much covered with hair, and besides there's no way in hell I'm going to go around shaving my chest for anybody. By the time I had my ladder in her kitchen, we were on a first name basis. I had introduced myself as Vince when I first got there, and it wasn't very long before Mrs. Cross insisted I call her Noel. "Is that Noel spelled N-O-E-L? I asked, hoping that it was, and not with the added "le" that some women use to spell it, and when she confirmed that, I smiled. "Spelled just like the girl that played Lois Lane in the Superman series," I mentioned, but not mentioning that I had the hots for that actress too. "Noel Neill," Mrs. Cross said. "Oops! Guess I'm showing my age there." She had a nice laugh, and when I told her that she was right about the name of the actress but that I knew it as well, so we both must have known that because of reruns on Nick at Nite or something, she laughed again. Flawless teeth, a nice laugh, a good sense of humor and freckles. Noel Cross was giving me a hard-on and it wan;t even 9:30 in the morning yet. ... Chapter Three: Working together. It was a warm morning, but since it wasn't summer yet, the Cross household didn't have the AC going, so I was dependent on the breeze coming in through the kitchen window for relief. I had worked up a little sweat when I had put in the unit in the entrance way, but it was a little cooler in the kitchen. Mrs. Cross was spending a lot of time with me, and although sometimes that was because the person was afraid they would get ripped off, in Noel's case I thought it was just that she was lonely and thought I was a good talker - and listener. "I shouldn't be talking so much to you," she said. "You have work to do." "Don't stop talking on my behalf," I told her. "I'm able to converse and still pay attention to what I'm doing. Can't afford not to, when you're playing with electricity." I had already figured out from looking at the pictures in the house that she had two kids and they were both out on their own, and at least one was married. Her husband was in Detroit on business. Noel offered that information, and without prompting. "Must be tough getting left at home," I suggested. "You should have gone with him." "We've reached the point now where we pretty much live our own lives, or so it seems," Noel said, before adding wistfully. "Not the way I want it, necessarily, but..." "Maybe it's because I'm naive, but I figure that I ever got married, I would want my wife to come around with me while I work," I said. "You know, be like my assistant or my partner. Probably wouldn't be as exciting as traveling to Detroit I suppose." "You must never have been to Detroit," Mrs. Cross said, and we had a laugh about that. "If I had an assistant, I would save about 100 trips up and down the ladder, though," I said, but when I started to step down, Mrs. Cross jumped up out of her seat at the kitchen table at asked what she could get for me. "Thanks, Mrs. Cross," I said as I reached down to take the globe that she was holding up to me. My eyes traveled down, gazing at the nicely toned bicep, the inside of which was starkly pale in comparison to the beige and freckled texture of the outside of her arm. My gaze went to the gentle hollow of her underarm, which had a faint patch of stubble that was a slighter darker shade of brown than the auburn on her head. "I mean Noel," I corrected myself, our eyes meeting as she noticed where I was looking, and after I took the globe from her she disappeared for a few minutes. Guess I stared too long, I thought to myself as I finished up connecting the wiring. That kind of thing doesn't bother me - not a bit. Hell, I made it with this Italian woman in Rome, New York a few years back. She had more hair under her arms than I did, and we had some of the most incredible sex imaginable. I love women - all parts of them. Mrs. Cross returned a few moments later, and went back to being my assistant. I found it both amusing and interesting that she offered me a soda a little later, and when she did, I couldn't help but notice that now her underarm was as smooth as silk. I found it amazing that she would have gone and shaved her armpits like that, thinking that I was affected by something like a little bit of fuzz there. The act was far more arousing than what she had done, as it told me a great deal about what was going through her mind, and I also noticed that there was something else missing besides the fur under her arms. Her bra was now gone. It wouldn't have been all that noticeable if I hadn't checked her out so completely when I arrived, but just as sure as I knew she had been wearing a bra before, it was just as obvious that she was bra-less now. Looked better too. Nice grapefruit-sized breasts with what seemed to be large nipples. My hard-on was coming back. .... Chapter Four: Helping and looking. Since she had been so considerate in taking her bra off, I thought that the only proper thing to do was acknowledge it. Not in words, but in carefully timed glances. Instead of sneaking peeks when she wasn't aware, I made it a point to purposely look when I would get caught. Initially, this put Mrs. Cross off guard, and tried to shield herself from my eyes, but she started to relax after that when she realized that I liked what I was seeing. Maybe it was also because I was giving her something to look at herself. She had already given my upper torso plenty of eye attention, but now when I was on the ladder peeking down at her, I discovered she had begun paying attention to my package, and that discovery had an effect on me that only made it easier for her. I was wearing camel colored lightweight jeans that fit snugly, but were made of a stretchy material that made them easy to work in. After seeing Noel's breasts wiggling around freely, I started to get stirrings down below. On hot days like today, I occasionally didn't bother wearing my banana pouch underwear and opted to go without any at all, and today was one of those days. This had not escaped the attention of Mrs. Cross, who I caught giving a long look at my crotch, and when I checked myself out down there, I could see why. The outline of my cock was clearly visible, and one could even the ridge of the glans as my semi-turgid cock snaked down the inside part of my right thigh. I was happy to be almost done with the last fan by this time, and even though it was not quite noon yet, I noticed that Mrs. Cross had switched from coffee to wine as well, further indicating that she was trying to make up her mind. The ball, along with mine, were all in her court, waiting for her to act. "Would you like a glass of wine, Vince?" Mrs. Cross asked sweetly. "I would love one, Mrs. - Noel, but alcohol and electricity don't mix," I said. "Thanks for the offer, but if I had one I'd probably want another." "What's wrong with that?" Noel said with a giggle. "Have a couple of drinks and relax with me by the pool. You've worked up quite a sweat here." "Now that's an idea," I agreed. "Only problem is that I don't have a bathing suit with me." "That's okay - I don't have any neighbors that can see the backyard, and I go out there without a suit all the time" she said, her face blushing. "Of course, the days when that would be a welcome sight to a man's eyes are behind me, I'm afraid." "Depends on the man," I answered with a smile. "Besides, I don't imagine that your girlfriend would appreciate you swimming naked in some woman's pool," Mrs. Cross offered, and her nipples were now thrusting hard into the fabric of her blouse, and she was making no effort to hide them. "Girlfriend? No time for that," I assured her. "Besides, most girls my age are too silly and superficial for my taste." "And as for the more mature ones," I added with a deep stare. "Most of the good ones have already been taken." ..... Chapter Five: Decision time. My work was done, and I was cleaning up after myself, which I've heard is a trait sadly lacking in my competition. As I brought my ladder out to the truck I could see that Mrs. Cross was having a fight with herself, and within a couple of minutes I would find out the winner. "If you have any problems, here's my card, and the number is on the bill also," I told her. "You do wonderful work, Vince," Mrs. Cross said. "Well, if you ever need anything else done, I'd love to come back," I told her. "Maybe next time I'll be smart enough to bring a bathing suit." She laughed at that, and I was getting ready to leave, when she put her hand on my shoulder and stopped me. "Uh - maybe you could tell me if you could put another one of those fixtures in our bedroom," she said, walking down the hall. "Is that done by people?" I followed Noel down the hall and into her bedroom. The master bedroom was very spacious, and the furnishings were exquisite. Everything was there except warmth. "Would that make any sense?" Mrs. Cross asked nervously. "What would you do?" "You could put the same model in here that you have in the rest of the house now, but I might go with the smaller blades for this room," I suggested. "Of course, I would imagine that it must get pretty hot in this room." My meaning was clear enough even without the grin I gave along with it, and from her reaction, she didn't miss it. I thought I saw Mrs. Cross shudder a little as she thought of a remark. "No," she said dryly. "I was thinking more of using it in the winter to bring down the heat. It doesn't get hot in here at all. Not any more." "Oh," I said softly as I looked up at the plain light fixture above the bed. "That is a waste." After I finished that sentence, I heard a sound that sent a shiver down my spine. I turned around and saw Mrs. Cross leaning against the bedroom door, and it was the sound of the latch clicking that was still resonating in my ears. "If I'm a silly old woman about to make a fool of myself, please be kind enough to say so now," Mrs. Cross said, her voice quivering as she stood there biting her lower lip. ...... Chapter Six: Noel. "You aren't silly," I told her, turning around completely and facing her. "And you are certainly not old. You must have an idea of what I think about you from the way I've been looking at you all day." "I don't do this," she said, walking toward me very slowly. "I've never done this before. I swear." "I know," I told her. "That's what makes it special." Noel's arms were around my neck, and we kissed - a kiss so hard and so full of her pent-up passion that it made my head spin. Our bodies ground together as we kissed, and her tongue danced with mine. I felt her hands clawing at the bottom of my shirt, trying to yank it off of me, and I stepped back a little to let her pull it over my head. Noel groaned as she threw my shirt aside, and her face dove into my chest, burying her face in the soft, moist hair as her mouth searched for and eventually found my nipple. She nibbled and chewed on me like an animal, and as she did I felt her hand sliding down and searching for my cock, which was certainly not tough to find by the point. "OMIGOD!" Noel gasped as he head went down the long bulge in my pants, and her hands were then tearing at the top of my pants, desperately trying to get them open. Noel got them open, and when I heard the button bouncing on the hardwood floor, she muttered "sorry", but I didn't give a damn. The woman was so crazed - almost feral - that her excitement was contagious, and I found myself fighting to stay a little in control. "I want you too, Noel," I said, nibbling on her ear before taking a couple of steps back. "Take off your clothes for me. I want to see you. Want to see all of you." Noel looked nervous again, but was able to pull her blouse over her head, exposing her breasts. They were grapefruit-sized globes, and although they had a little bit of sag to them, they were still great. Her nipples were fat pegs that stuck out like little thumbs from her silver dollar aureoles. Never taking her eyes off of me, as if she was afraid if was not as excited by her, I pulled down the zipper of my pants and let them fall to my ankles, kicking them off along with my socks. Who knows were my shoes went? Noel looked at my cock with the mouth open, and I was used to that. I was blessed in that department as well, and as it dangled in front of me I could see Noel's chest heaving even harder. In the current semi-turgid state, it was as long and thick as it was going to be fully erect. Shaped somewhat like a spear, it had a long, conical head, but the shaft gradually thickened until the thickness became rather outrageous at the base. Somewhere around 7 or 8 inches, but the visual effect made it seem like more. Noel's eyes never left my cock, even as she fumbled with her slacks and panties, finally getting them down. "Beautiful," I said breathlessly, and I said a silent thank you for what I saw when the panties came down. Hoping against seeing some kind of Brazilian massacre down there, or even worse, a bald pussy that would have been a real turn off, I was thrilled to see a full and thick triangle of rich brown hair that I couldn't wait to bury my face in. My cock went from pointing downward to becoming a cantilever, projecting straight out at that vision of loveliness and now pointing straight at Mrs. Cross. Waiting for the Electrician Noel had other ideas, as she walked forward as if in a trance, and went to her knees in front of me. I looked down and watched her grab my cock with both hands, her right hand clutching halfway around the root of it, and her left hand right next to that, like she was holding a bat. I groaned loudly as her mouth enveloped my glans, and with each succeeding bob of her head her lips slid further down, until her mouth was reaching her left hand. The sparkle of her wedding ring in the sunlight that streamed in through the window - why did the sight of that diamond on her pale finger excite me so? The pale white hand wrapped around my light brown cock was erotic enough for me, but the addition of that forbidden thing made it almost too much for me, and I was glad when that hand stopped spinning around my cock and went down to squeeze my nuts. Noel was going way down my cock now, almost down to the base, and I felt my sap beginning to rise. I ran my hand through her hair, pulling it off her her shoulders, and when I did I saw that her freckles were not just confined to her arms. Her shoulders and upper back were also dotted with them, and this was all combining to make me pull her off of me before I lost it. I lifted her up and moved her over to the bed, shaking my head as I thought about what some guy in Detroit should have been getting on a regular basis. Noel was a great cocksucker, and the unbridled enthusiasm she had used on me indicated that it was a talent that had gone under-utilized for way too long. Spreading her shapely thighs, I ran my hands up her smooth calves while dipping my head between her legs. Her hair was thick and dense, but not overly so, and my tongue found her opening right away. She was way beyond wet - she was practically dripping, and as I tenderly tongued around her labia on my way to her clitoris, I greedily inhaled her musky aroma. Noel was clutching wildly and everything within reach. My hair, the sheets, and even a pillow went flying off the bed while I made her writhe under me. I didn't want her to cum - not just yet - and when I sensed she was getting close, I pulled my face away and got up on my knees with my cock poised and ready. ....... Chapter Seven: Moment of truth. This was not the time for teasing, or hesitation. Once I had done that, and the woman got cold feet, even though the rest of her was percolating. Buyer's remorse, or guilt can set in. Maybe a glance at a picture of happier days. Whatever, once we got to this point, there was no turning back. Noel was mumbling something as the tip of my cock reached her opening. Something about being gentle, or not being used to this. I didn't make it out, and it didn't matter. I was not a savage love-maker, at least not at the start. That might come later. My arms holding me up above her, I let my cock find the way on his own, and as I sunk deeper and deeper into her tight wetness, Noel's mouth opened up in a silent scream while her hands grabbed my biceps. I went in very slowly, but did not stop until I hit the wall, and then pulled it out all the way. Twice more I did that, letting my cock come all the way out of Noel before drilling her deep as I could. By the time I had slid in the fourth time she was cumming. She came loudly and she came hard, and I loved it. Her neck arched back and her face beet red, the veins in her neck bulged as she screamed out. Her head tossed back and forth, and even a little spittle sprayed out of her mouth as she had one of the most incredible orgasms I had ever been part of. That was when I really started pounding into her. In and out, and at a medium tempo at first while her eyes spun a little in their sockets, and then harder when she started looking me in the eyes. She came again after a few minutes, a more calm orgasm, but one that seemed to last even longer. I held her arms down at the wrists this time, and this seemed to intensify it for her. "Omigod - you're still hard," Noel gasped as she felt me still moving inside of her when she stopped shaking. "Not for long," I told her, taking the opportunity to lean down and kiss her, first on the lips and then down her shoulder and all along her smooth, wet armpit, before leaning back up and arching my back. "Want to feel you cum in me," Noel grunted, and as if on cue, my cock jerked inside of her, and I felt my cum spurt deep inside of her, and did not stop until I was drained. ........ Chapter Eight: Remember this. "Incredible," Noel said after a few moments of silence, and by that time I had slid down alongside of her, holding our sweaty bodies together as we relaxed on our sides. "Way better than that," was all I could say, content with running my hands all over her body and hoping I was up for a sequel real quick. "I never did anything like this before," she said, and although a lot of women say that, I believed Noel, and not just because she started sobbing a little. "It's just that it's been so long - not even being touched. I thought I was imagining you paying attention to me like you thought I was worth looking at. You made me feel so wanted, even if it was my imagination." "I wanted you from the very start," I told her, lifting her thigh a little and running my hand through her soggy bush, feeling my cum dribble out of her and through my fingers. "If you ever doubt for a second that you aren't an amazing looking woman, remember this." My cock had come back to life, which happened a lot when I was this turned on my a woman, and as I spoke, I brought the tip of my cock up to her pussy, and when she felt what I was doing, her expression became one of shock. "See what I mean?" I told her. "See how gorgeous I think you are?" "You're unreal," she said while I leaned forward and moved more of me inside of her. "You don't mind, do you?" "Mind?" Noel gasped as she smiled. "Keep talking. Your cock feels so good inside me." "I'm kind of selfish, and who knows if I'll ever meet somebody that excites me as much as you do," I said. "Tell that - to all - your customers?" she said as she reacted to my thrusts, which stayed slow but got deeper as I lifted her leg higher. "Just the ones that look so good, and give me a signal by taking off their bra so I can see better." "Was I that - obvious?" Noel groaned. "I loved it," I told her, grinding my hips into her so that I fully impaled her. "Loved you going and shaving your underarms too." "Omigod - you don't - miss much," she gasped. "You didn't have to," I told her, "because I would have done this anyway." Grabbing her wrist, I brought her arm back over her head and leaned forward, sliding my tongue up and down the slippery smoothness. The salty and lightly scented aroma made me a little crazy, and obviously my tongue was doing something to her, because while I was doing that, Noel leaned back toward me and had a little orgasm, snorting and laughing maniacally as she did. "I can't - can't take it," she choked. "Can't cum any more." "Sure you can," I told her, rolling her over onto her stomach, and although she started to protest, it was more a case of her mistakenly thinking that I was going into another area. When she felt where I was going, she moved up onto her knees and let me into her pussy once again, and while it took a while, she did have another orgasm. This time I came with her, and after that it was over for both of us. ........ Chapter Nine: Parting. Parting has to be done quickly, because hanging around can only make things turn sour for no reason. There was no mistaking anything that went on in that bedroom for anything other than it was. Two people in lust. No love involved, and while it was fantastic, it was over. I had more work to do. Before I left, Mrs. Cross insisted on putting the button back onto my pants. She took a long time doing it, or so it seemed, because she kept looking over at my flaccid cock while I stood waiting patiently. She said that she had decided that she wanted a fan put in over the bed, and while I tried to never make encores with women, Noel was good enough for me to make an exception if she wanted. "I'm pretty well booked for the summer," I told her befor eleaving. "I can give you the name of somebody else if you want it done soon, but if you can wait until fall or winter..." "I can wait," Mrs. Cross said quickly, squeezing my arm and setting her head on my shoulder for a second. "Take that long for me to recover anyway." Maybe she will call me and make an appointment come fall. Maybe she will think it over and change her mind. Maybe her husband will come to his senses and start paying attention to this amazing woman she lives with, and I won't be needed. Her choice, and his. Who knows? Maybe there are good reasons he ignores her. I wasn't with her long enough to find any, and that's the way I like it. .......... Thanks for reading, voting and commenting.