Rape is Silly

I do appliance repairs. It's fairly steady work as there's always something breaking down. Biggest business is washing machines and dish-washers. They cost too much to just replace when they break down and there are very few people who are going to try to cart a broken one down to the shop. They'd rather pay the callout fee.

I was at this house fixed a dish-washer. I didn't know what they'd been washing but it had seriously gunked up the machine. (Found out later that her husband had tossed part of his car engine into the dish-washer to see how well they cleaned up.)

The woman of the house was in her early twenties and very nicely built but seemed rather wary about having a strange man in the house. I can understand that. When I run into someone who's nervous about me being there, I just get real professional, with no small talk or trying to set the customer at ease. All business, that's me, and it tends to relax them.

So with this woman acting chary I was on my best behaviour, getting right down to it with barely a word to her. Turned out she's one of these women who can't bear being ignored. So I was in the odd situation of having a customer who didn't want to fraternise with the tradesman but felt insulted when the tradesman didn't seem to want to fraternise with her.

She lingered in the kitchen, wanting to know what I was doing, how long had I been a tradesman, how long was I going to be, and just talking to hear herself talking.

There was a TV going in the background and during a pause in her talking a news bulletin came on. Part of the news was a commentary about some woman who'd been indecently assaulted and the cops were looking for the assailant. Mrs Harper sniffed indignantly at the news.

"They say indecently assaulted, but they mean rape," she snapped. "You men are monsters at times."

"Because of rape?" I asked off-hand. "Nah, not really. Rapes just a loser's game."

"So you're saying that you'd never rape a woman?" she said, a touch scornfully.

"Not on your life," I said derisively. "You need to be a real idiot to bother raping someone."

"Why do you say that?"

I paused in what I was doing and looked at her.

"There's a billion women in the world. Women like sex just as much as men and are quite happy to oblige a man if he approaches them the right way. If one turns you down you just walk away. The chances are the next one won't. To rape someone just shows you didn't have the guts to ask her first."

"You mean all you have to do is ask a woman and she'll jump into bed with you?"

The woman sounded a bit scornful, obviously thinking I was full of myself.

"It's not quite as straight forward as that. Time, place, and manner of asking, count for a lot. Consider yourself. If I was to ask you right now to go to bed with me you'd be appalled and possibly frightened and would not be in a mood to agree. Correct?"

"That's for sure," came a snappish response.

"But why? After all, a man is paying a woman a compliment when he says he wants to sleep with her. He's telling her he finds her very attractive. Let's change the scenario slightly. If I met you down at the hotel and propositioned you, you might still say no, but you'd probably feel flattered. Not insulted or frightened. See the difference."

"What difference. I've still turned you down."

"True," I said with a grin. "But consider this. What would happen if I approached you in the pub and quietly offered you ten grand, payable in advance, to slip aside with me for a little while. The only people who would know about it would be you and me, and ten grand is ten grand. You'd be really flattered and I'm guessing you'd probably agree. Yes?"

She gave me a nasty look, but she was honest.

"Possibly," she admitted.

"Fair enough. But if I walked up to you, slapped you on the bottom and said twenty bucks for a quickie in the lane outside, you'd probably slap my face.

You see. Same basic question but with four different responses. It's up to the man to pick the correct approach."

She was looking rather dubious, still thinking I was big-noting myself. I slid in the killer.

"You will note that in one of those scenarios you agreed to be with me. That shows you are not totally averse to having sex with me."

She gave me an appalled look and started spluttering.

"I said no such thing!"

"Actually, you did. And now you're wondering what it would be like if you did agree. Yes you are," I insisted, when she tried to deny it. "It's just basic human nature."

I muttered something rude about people who design dish-washers without a thought for the poor sod who has to fix it, and then continued.

"From the nasty looks you're giving me you're saying to yourself 'he's just a crude workman. His idea of fun would probably be to just pull down my pants, bend me over the nearest surface and bonk me with no consideration', and you're picturing it in your mind. And, might I add, you're flattering me. My equipment isn't anything like as large as you're imagining. I suspect a stallion would be hard pressed to match that image."

Her face was burning and I could see the little flaming arrows spearing at me.

"Oh, you're quite the gallant, aren't you?" she said, almost snarling, she was so mad. "I suppose you have champagne and flowers tucked in with your tools, waiting to charm some poor unsuspecting housewife."

"Chance would be a fine thing," I said with a laugh. "No, the way I'd proceed would be to tell you to take your clothes off and wait until I'm ready. You would find yourself standing there, naked, waiting for me, knowing that I'm keeping an eye on you and wondering what it was going to be like. It would be like the first time all over again and the longer you wait the more nervous and excited you'll become."

For a moment I thought she was going to start jumping up and down, she was so mad.

"Do you really think you only have to tell me to get undressed and I'll do it?"

"Hmm. Do you want a polite answer or an honest one?" I asked her, and her eyes opened wide.

"You do. You really think I'll take my clothes off."

"I consider it a distinct possibility. I think you'll decide to strip just to show me what I'll be missing out on, knowing that you can always say no and get dressed again."

"Ha! So you're admitting that I won't have sex with you."

"No. Once you're naked you're going to be really aware that you're naked and that there is a man there wanting you. I suspect that you'll stay naked until I have time to attend to you.

You might as well start now, or you'll run out of time. I'll be finished in about fifteen minutes."

I was quite surprised when she did. She was only wearing a shift dress and undies and it was the work of an instant to lift the shift dress over her head. Then undies promptly followed and she stood there glaring at me.

She glared even harder when I looked her over and nodded approvingly.

"Bella Donna," I murmured in appreciation, but continued with my work.

After a couple of minutes I could see her throwing nervous little glances at her clothes. Like I'd told her, she was feeling increasingly naked just standing there. Her nipples had peaked and she was starting to worry.

"Do you have a dressing table with a large mirror?"

She looked startled at the non sequitur, but nodded.

"Alright. Instead of standing there worrying, think of yourself on all fours on your bed, looking sideways at that mirror. You can see yourself quite clearly. As you watch you see me approaching you from behind. Now imagine you're seeing what follows."

I continued with my work, leaving her to stew. Her face was blazing and her breathing was deeper. Her imagination had caught hold of her and she was arousing herself far better than I could.

I finished the repairs and packed my tools away, moving quickly. Then I stood up and moved over to her and placed one hand gently on the small of her back.

"Show me the way to the bedroom," I said softly and she turned and walked off, almost in a dream.

I'd hit the jackpot where the mirror was concerned. The dressing table had a very large central mirror and two wing mirrors. I helped her onto the bed and she crouched there on hands and knees, looking at herself. The way those wing mirrors were angled she could see everything.

She may have intended to say no, but she had no breath with which to speak. She was just watching herself in the mirror while I unzipped and released the demon.

I'm reasonably well built, and I saw her eyes change direction slightly, zeroing in on me and my equipment. For my part, I could see her equipment nicely presented. Her lips were puffy and moist and inviting, so I accepted the invitation. She gave a little gasp as my cock nudged against her lips, then I drove forward and she was hot and wet and tight and ready.

Too ready, it turned out. I drove forcefully home and she climaxed. I couldn't believe it. I've heard of premature ejaculation, but a premature climax? She gave this trembling shriek and clamped down on me and shuddered as she climaxed, shivering under me. Then she sort of sagged onto the bed, me still firmly in place.

I'd like to say I waited patiently for her to recover but I really sat there fuming. My erection seemed to be getting larger every second I sat there waiting to use it. Fair play I guess. Now I know how she felt, waiting for me.

As soon as she showed signs of life I started moving. Very gently, of course. No need to panic the woman, and have her decide to cry off. I just started rocking gently back and forth and found her instinctively starting to move with me. By the time she was fully compos mentis we were already under way in quite a definite manner.

Her head suddenly swivelled to look in the mirror and I could see the shock on her face as she suddenly remembered who was entertaining her. I met her eyes in the mirror, continuing to press firmly home. She faltered for a second, recovered, and pressed firmly to meet me.

I started to take nice long strokes, pulling back until I almost popped free, pushing back in with a firm stroke, banging hard enough against her to make her whole body jolt. Her eyes, I noticed, switched from my face to where I was joined to her, watching my erection plunge in and out, seeming fascinated by the action.

I wasn't alone in the action, with her hips pushing up and back, meeting my thrust with élan. Now that she was fully engaged with what was happening my hands snaked around her and captured her breasts, soothing and teasing them as I took her.

I gave her a very respectable service, drilling into her again and again. Her early climax had left her highly excited and it didn't need much work on my part to build that excitement back up. The tricky part was trying to make sure I could hold her at that level without her firing off again before I was ready. Make that willing. I was ready to blow my cork, but not willing, wanting to keep on going until she was almost melting from need.

I almost succeeded, too. She became very vocal towards the end, demanding that I take her, pleading for me to drive home harder, faster, but most of all, now.

The pressure was too much for my poor gonads. Talk about use or lose. I started driving home faster, eager to finish. It only took a couple of harder strokes and she went off again, climaxing with a much louder scream and clamping down on me, demanding I climax and fill her with seed, which I obligingly did.

It's always a little tricky if you dally with the wife of a customer. I mean, when you're billing your chargeable time, do you include the entire time you were at the place or just the time you were working on the appliance?