Middle Class Maintenance
My life as a Housewife
I was bored and Jim was boring. He did the same thing every day at the same time. He ate the same thing every day for breakfast –bacon and eggs, black coffee and orange juice to take his meds with. He even liked to wear the same style of clothes to work every day – Navy blue trousers and a grey button down shirt. As his wife, I Carolina Peters wasn’t too sure when we got on this boring track, but nothing I did seemed to turn it around. It was no fun living with a forty seven year old who acted geriatric.
Things had gotten so bad that he made a schedule for us to have sex - Fridays at 9 pm when our son went to the cinema with his friends or Tuesdays at 11pm when he was asleep. I was not at all happy with the situation. In my younger days I wasn’t promiscuous, but spontaneous sex was high on my list of activities.
It was done the same way each time and I hated it! It was a most tedious task for me to go through. I no longer got wet with him. He didn’t notice. My younger sister was constantly bragging about her latest sexual conquest and I was jealous. I wasn’t bad looking for my age. I had not wrinkled and that was a tribute to my genes. My mother was a stunning Italian woman who looked fifty even though she was well into her 70’s. We went to Yoga together every Wednesday and she often outperformed me in the stances we were trying to perfect. My waist was still trim and neat and my breasts were only a few inches lower than their former youthful position. I tried to dress nicely, my husband was the breadwinner, but he wasn’t cheap and allowed me full access to the accounts. Even though this was the case, he often commented on the cost and quantity of my indulgences. I was bored and I had only my son to take care of, why not go shopping? He also nagged about the cost of my salon visits, but never complimented me on my look. I guess the hair stylist wasn’t doing a good enough job on my naturally black hair.
On Monday I dropped Jim off to work. He never kissed me goodbye, he said public displays of affection was for teenagers and our son didn’t need to witness it. Gabriel was fourteen years old and had never seen his father show me any love or affection and I secretly worried that he would grow up cold and emotionless like his father. As I dropped him off to school, he talked about a girl he liked and how he was saving to buy her a teddy bear and chocolate. He wanted her to be his valentine. Pulling into the school’s driveway, he caught sight of her and all but jumped out of the car. Remembering young love made me smile as I drove off. Maybe I worry over him for nothing I thought.
Stopping at the grocery store was my only chore for the morning. My drive back home was uneventful until I tried to get back into our Avenue. For some reason I had to wait in a line of traffic behind Mrs. Perry the retired school teacher and Ms. Johnson the nurse before we could maneuver our cars onto our street. After a ten minute wait the cars ahead of me pulled off and we were all curious to find out what was making traffic in a well- to- do neighborhood such as ours.
A moving truck being driven unsuccessfully by a burly white man with a mustache, was trying without success to back into a narrow driveway. There was a black man flailing his arms above his head, trying desperately to guide the driver into the space. After several failed attempts, he succeeded, narrowly missing the green letter box. When the tires screeched, the truck came to jerking halt. The black man’s face carried a look of relief as he narrowly escaped death-by-moving –truck. The house, unoccupied for about two months, now had a new owner, but I couldn’t figure out who it was. Mrs. Eady the neighborhood snoop and my close friend hadn’t informed me of our communities’ new edition. Surprising as she tended to know everything first. As I unloaded the car and went into the house, my curiosity got the better of me and I wondered just who was moving into the house.
I would soon find out.
Peeping through the curtains was a regular habit in my neighborhood. One had to be aware of the surroundings, the robberies had been on the increase recently and other housewives in the neighborhood had decided to keep each other’s back at the last watch meeting. Plus, this method of observation gave us great Intel on Mrs. More, a statuesque blonde who wore too much make up. Mrs. Eady and I had decided she was a slut a long time ago. Our opinions were based on facts - several men came to visit when her older, lawyer husband was at work. Scandalous was the word we used to describe her. Mrs. More wasn’t the subject of today’s investigation however. The mysterious owner of the house next door was my immediate concern. Around two in the afternoon the moving truck left, creating just as much havoc as when it arrived, narrowly missing the same mail box again, it screeched off noisily. The black man was still there. The cordless phone rang and I lifted it from the cradle. My faithful nosy friend revealed that the new owner was black. She had no more information but was working to find out who the mystery man was.
We didn’t have many black people in our community. They generally couldn’t afford it and tended to stay in their own area. The only other two in the area were a high profile sports attorney who drove the red Mercedes and the live- in nanny at the house on the corner. I’ve never had a problem with them- black people, that is, secretly I’ve always marveled at the body of a black man. As an adult I often wondered how black men performed in bed. Where I was from it was forbidden to sleep with or much less marry a black man. They should stick with their own, my daddy had said. I had followed the teachings of my family and stayed in my white lane. Marrying Jim was confirmation that parents were not always right.
For the entire week I watched through my drapes as he came and went, fixing the neglected property one piece at a time. As he was fixing the awnings on the windows I tried to get a better look at his face but to no avail. Still, I watched.
On Tuesdays my son went to bed early. He and his track team trained early on Wednesday mornings for their meets. As nine o clock rolled around Jim started to prepare for our “encounter” and I contemplated faking a headache. He came to bed smelling of old spice, a cologne he had been wearing sine we met and at first I liked it, but after so many years it reminded me only of the dreadfully monotonous sex act he tried to perform.He was on meds for diabetes. He took his medication religiously and never missed a day. He started to coach our son’s soccer team and thought he was getting into shape in the process. Diet and exercise were some of the ways to combat it the doctor had said. I did my own research after the diagnosis and learned a great many things. Apparently impotence was a major side effect of this disease. Interesting, I thought.
As the years went by the topic of impotence never came up until “it” stopped coming up. One night I tried to please him with my hands and mouth for a good fifteen minutes but got no lasting reaction. It never stayed up. Embarrassed at the loss of ability to perform he got aggressive and started to blame me. Our attempts at sex often ended with him throwing a tantrum like a three year old. I tried to understand and tried to appease him. It didn’t work. A trip back to the doctor yielded partial results. The small blue pills were taken an hour before his attempts. His dick was more like play dough: it looked rigid, but was still flexible to the touch. He decided he was happy to have any kind of reaction and enjoyed himself as much as possible. I on the other hand remained annoyed and unsatisfied at the end of the ordeal.
Tonight was no exception. Jim was panting and sweating while I lay there, feeling nothing. The facial expression he made when he climaxed was akin to someone in severe pain and I closed my eyes in an effort to block out the pitiful sight. I made a few sounds, pretending to climax so he could remain confident that his sexual abilities were still above par. Apparently my acting skills were just enough to make him smile triumphantly. As he rolled over, I got up to go to the bathroom to wash his perspiration from my body. When I came back, he was asleep on his side snoring loudly. I stood there and stared at him for a few minutes in wonder and amazement at how he could sleep so soundly after such a dreadful performance.
It was nine thirty and I was wide awake. Walking downstairs, I decided to have a glass of wine. My eyes wandered to the house across the street as I glanced through the closed window I bet he’s screwing someone and they are loving it I thought. The idea of him pumping into some woman aroused me. The feeling guided me all the way to the laptop. My search engine suggested several sites and I choose the first one. More options and choices awaited me on this x rated site. Glancing around to make sure I was alone, I typed in “Big Black Cock” and sat back to watch the screen. Shoes and socks were the very first scene. It panned out to strong black thighs sitting on a couch. A plump white girl was straddling him. Her moans became louder and I adjusted the volume as not to be discovered. Her face looked about 20 but she was a bigger woman than me in many ways - physically and otherwise. Her ass jiggled as she bounced on a dick larger than any I had ever received. Jim was, on average, seven inches and I had become accustomed to that. The dick she was riding could have easily measured ten inches. She left a creamy trail on his member every time she slid down on it. The entire black snake like organ disappeared into her time and time again and I was jealous.
The vision on the screen made me aware of my own unsatisfied desires and my body was responding. I placed the laptop on the coffee table and reclined on the couch. Spreading my legs I looked down to see my clit was emerging from its hiding place. As I rubbed my index finger over it, I too moaned. He was licking her now, his juices and hers combined into one creamy mixture and apparently it tasted like heaven. I worked my hands faster and faster, mimicking the motions this man’s tongue was making on this girls sweet spot. He slipped three fingers into her very wet crevice and her body trembled with delight. I followed suit with one finger. I could not handle as much girth as this young woman. Moving it in and out of me heightened the sensitivity of the entire area and my hand was wet with my own juices. We climaxed together, the man and I, as he shot his fluid on her face my whole body collapsed under the tremors of my self imposed orgasm. Jim could never do that.
As soon as my body stopped trembling, I felt guilty. I felt as though I’d cheated on Jim with this man from the internet. I took a shower, cleared the computer history and went to bed.
In the morning as I went through my routine of making breakfast and packing lunches, I thought about the way the girl’s body had stretched to accommodate the large black phallus. Like I said, she was a bigger woman than me in many ways. Alone at home that day I explored the site a bit more. I watched the black man on the screen massaging his massive member, while forcing an equally large purple one into a thin girl. Her reaction was so overwhelming that I was intrigued and turned on. A pop up ad advised me that I would have the time of my life with their brand of dildos. They came in all shapes, sizes and colors. They spun, vibrated and did a few other things. Using my own credit card, I provided the information they required. The order came the Friday in a white unlabeled box, delivered to my PO Box in town; it was now upstairs hidden in my closet.
My morning jog on Saturdays took me twice around the block. I had been doing it for the past year to upkeep my look. On my second trip around I noticed him outside. The sun had just risen and my new neighbor was trimming the hedges with a large scissors. Beads of sweat glistened on his naked torso as the muscles flexed from the force of closing the jaws of the massive scissors, decapitating the overgrown plants. I didn’t say good morning as I passed by. He didn’t either. Up to my front door, I ran panting from the exercise. As I reached out my hand to turn the knob, a door hanger flyer made its presence known by flapping in a gentle breeze that quickly crept by.
Mason’s Maintenance it read, Home Maintenance, plumbing, electrical and general home upkeep. It went on to list the contact info and the office address downtown. A business man I thought. I wondered if the flyer was for me alone. One glance back at the neat row of houses revealed that I was not special. One was hanging on every door I could see.
Inside I peeped through the drapes at this new black businessman who was my neighbor. He could easily fit into any of my secret movies with a body like that. Taut muscles and broad shoulders.\ I wondered if he was as well endowed. Watching this man made was making the flesh between my legs tingle. I went upstairs to shower away perspiration caused by my exercise and the chemical reaction my body was experiencing from my erotic imaginings.
Emerging from the shower, I found my husband still in bed watching a rerun of an old soccer game his team played. Today at midday would be their practice and for two hours he would train them. At two he would take them to the pool for another two hours. Like clockwork, it was the same every Saturday. It never changed.
I patted my skin dry, paying extra attention to the stimulated skin between my legs, slowly rubbing the mound as enticingly as I could. He never took his eyes from the television screen. After a few minutes I realized my striptease was useless. I wrapped my bathrobe around me and went about making breakfast. He joined my son and I at the table an hour later. They both wolfed down the food and chatted about the day’s plans. At 11 am they got into our family car and left for the journey to practice.
Upstairs I turned on my laptop and retrieved my secret box from its hiding place. Opening it, I spilled the contents onto the sheets. The first one was tiny and pink. The instructions said it vibrated when turned on and the remote control had several speeds. Two more were in the box, a white one of average length and a large black one with bulging veins. I traced a few of them with my manicured forefinger.
I was always nervous when it came to playing with myself. I checked to see if the bedroom door was locked just like a teenager that would die from embarrassment if caught. The moisture between my legs was hot and sticky as I turned on my pink vibrator. It jumped out of my hand before I could get it in the right position. The feeling this vibrating toy brought my body was indescribable. The shocking sensations were too much to bear. After only a few minutes I reached a climax that was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. The tool and my hands were covered in my creamy juices. This was new… Very new. I switched off my toy and flopped back into the bed exhausted at the erotic experience. I closed my eyes and imagined what it would be like to have someone screw me the right way. I never thought my sex life would come to such an abrupt end at so early an age. A noise outside caught my attention. What was that buzzing sound?
I got up and approached my window to see my neighbor mowing his lawn. Back and forth he went pushing and pulling the mower. The sweat trickled down his spine and I was aroused again. Why was it that watching this man do simple chores turned me on to such a degree?! The lawn mower paused after a moment and I walked over to my desk to retrieve the flyer. As my hands shook with doubt as the digital tones on the phone communicated with whatever technology makes phones work. A deep voice connected after a few rings.
“Mason’s Maintenance,” it said “How can we help you maintain your property today?”
“Hi, this is Mrs. Peters from across the street, pink house, yes… I saw your flyer and I have a leak in my bathroom that's long overdue for a fix. Can you look at it for me?”
“Well, I’ve sent my team out on their duties for the day so I’d have to come do it myself if you don’t mind?”
The question he asked was rhetorical to me. Of course I want you to do it yourself.
“Certainly “my voice said “can you come in about 15 minutes?”
“I sure can. Just let me clean up and imma come on over”
“Thank you, ” I responded, and hung up.
I was a married horny housewife. I tried praying about it but nothing changed. It was time to take matters into my own hands.
I wasn’t lying about the bathroom. The shower often dripped. My husband prized himself on being a fix it man. Unfortunately, most projects were an epic failure much like our sex life.
A knock on the door announced his presence.
He was still in his cut off knee length shorts, but he now wore a tool belt and carried a tool box. I was still in my bathrobe. “Good day”, he smiled timidly; He was handsome, his jaw was strong and set in a face that meant business. The goatee he sported was perfectly maintained and his dark eyes sparkled as he spoke, “I thought you were ready when you called. I can come back later when you are dressed”. He turned to leave and I outstretched my hand. “No no no Mr. Mason I will be in the other room while you work. It’s not a problem. Let me show you the way.”
He nodded and smiled and I led the way, hoping he was watching my ass as I purposely swayed it while walking up the stairs. In the bathroom, he immediately identified the trouble area. ”Ok, I’ll get to work,” he stated.
Sitting on the bed, I pretended to work on the laptop, glasses on and all while he fixed my husband’s mishap. I was watching another porn flick where two black men were giving it to a mature white woman. She was loving it. He cleared his throat and must have been there for a while because he was looking concerned. He spoke.
” I have to run over and get another tool.”
“Sure, let yourself out and then back in.“
His footsteps disappeared down the steps and I resumed my movie. Upping the ante, I turned on my pink toy and positioned it in between the folds of my now swelling slit. Remote in hand, I started at a slow speed. In scene two of the movie the woman was taking two dicks at a time one in each hole. The look on her face was indescribable and her voice emitted low moans. I too moaned as I turned the vibrator up a notch. I closed my eyes and imagined how big Masons cock was and how it would fill me. I knew I wanted him and my body was agreeing. I was matching her moans when my body reached its peak. The wash of pleasure overtook my senses as I breathed heavily. Recovering from the orgasm, I opened my eyes to see him standing there, eyes as wide as saucers. He was staring between my splayed open legs and the pink object causing the creamy moisture now on my thighs.
“Amm should I come back later? ” he stuttered
“No, ” I said bravely “there is something that I need fixed”. He walked over hesitantly, unsure what to do in situations like the one he had found himself in. “Isn’t your husband due home soon?” He asked, obviously thinking about his safety.
“No, he’s not home till after 4 and he’s not screwing me right so someone has to.”
Concern showed on his face, but his dick had a mind of its own. Through his pants I could see it swelling with desire. I took his hand and brought it toward the pink swollen flesh and whispered” touch it”. And that he did. Sitting on the bed, he spread my legs wide and began to give me a massage like no other. It was now fat from my mornings play and my clit was out of its usual hooded hiding place. He bent his head and tasted my morning activities on his lips and apparently it was delicious. Moving his tongue around the swollen nub he licked it swiftly devouring the meal spread before him. He slurped loudly as he sucked and nibbled. Spreading the lips and exposing my entrance, he slid his tongue into the space. Darting his pink tongue in and out was a feeling like no other. Grinding my hips into his face while clutching his head was my natural reaction to this new experience.
Coming up for air, He grabbed the mound in his fist and gently squeezed it. With both hands he spread the lips and flicked his rough thumb over the sensitive nub. A sharp inhale from me was enough encouragement for him to go further. “You like that, don’t you?” He asked, but I couldn’t answer. I arched my back and spread my legs even further. He began to flick his thumb back and forth and I went crazy. I could no longer keep my moans to a decent level and the volume increased. With his free hand, he unbuckled the tool belt from his waist and then undid the fly of his pants. His cock was now free. It was beautiful. I’d never seen anything like it, engorged by arousal it stood about eleven inches.
The veins looked as though they wanted to be free from the confines of skin and were bulging. He rubbed the pink shiny head and I got wetter anticipating it, forcing its way into my much too small passage. Slipping a finger in proved too much for me. The cream was everywhere but he didn’t stop. “Let’s see how many fingers you can take Mrs. Peters”. As he slipped in another finger I felt myself stretching to accommodate his large, long appendages.”You know you can do it,” he said and slipped in another.
He started to move his hand. Slowly at first, increasing his rhythm gradually. His other hand was busy sliding up and down the length of his shaft. He flicked his thumb again, adding pressure. I was squirming now unable to hold my screams or moans. I was meeting the thrust of his hand now as he went faster and faster. In and out, in and out… I felt it coming, the orgasm started at my toes and exploded at my stimulated slit. With a sound like a mating animal I exploded in his hand trembling.
As I emerged from the avalanche of pleasure that cascaded over my body I struggled to regain my vision. He was massaging his giant member even more aggressively. He was using my cum as lubricant and it was making his hand slide more freely. The shaft was shiny and erect, standing proudly. “Let me taste it,” I begged and he obliged. Pulsating and throbbing he placed it into my wet waiting mouth. I closed my eyes and savored the taste of myself and this man mixed together, licking the tip as a tiny drop of clear liquid oozed out. When he could no longer take the slow pace I was moving as he grabbed my hair and forced my head down. He inhaled sharply, intertwining his fingers in my hair, he intensified his movements. His breath was sharp and short as he started to speak.
“Is this the reason you called me over? To fix you? Huh? You wanted to see how a black guy would fill you? How I would feel in your mouth and deep in your throat? Are all you housewives on this street so horny?”
I could not answer, just like the girl in the video I was gagging and my God it was beautiful. He adjusted his position and slipped his fingers in my swollen crevice. The reaction was automatic as I clenched my muscles around them and climaxed again. He was moving faster now and his breathing was shallow as he moved back and forth. I felt him grow harder on my tongue and he was pulling my hair tighter and tighter.
A noise from the stairs made us pause. No one was breathing as we listened for more movement. Our concerned glances toward the door were met with silence and he started to move again as he replaced his member in my mouth. Quickly building momentum, he was at his peak again in minutes. As his skin stretched and the skin bulged, I found myself unable to come up for breath. His firm grip on my head became tighter and the muscles on his stomach and thighs followed suit. Finally, he shuddered and whimpered. The liquid was hot and sweet as it shot down my throat and dripped down my chin. I no longer cared about the breath I desperately needed moments earlier.
His orgasm left him in a trancelike state as he collapsed on the bed, squeezing his dick as if making sure it was still attached to his body. I collapsed as well, enchanted, but fatigued from the experience.
Black and white balled
A voice from the door brought us back to reality. “Is this what you always wanted? To be with a black man…?” It was Jim and something was off in is tone and his attire… he wore none. He massaged the head of his smaller penis walking toward us, stimulated from watching the performance. I had not seen him this hard in years.
“You are at home?? You never come home early!!!” I blurted out. Both Mason and I were searching maniacally for something to cover our nakedness.
“I’m so sorry sir, I’m so sorry sir,“ Mason repeated frantically.
Jims tone was low as he said “Today we are gonna do something different. I feel like it’s time to switch things up”.
He patted mason on the shoulder in an almost fatherly fashion “No need to be afraid son you can screw her, she wants it and I want to watch.” The flesh below my waist started to twitch at the thought of this new preposition. My husband ordered me to turn over on the bed. Ass up face down was his exact orders. Pulling back the sheets he discovered my new toys. Another vein popped as his mind pieced together the fragments of my sexual puzzle. He positioned himself in front of me, sitting with his legs at my two sides, his cock hovering just beyond my lips. Grabbing my hair, he laced it in his fingers and yanked my head forward in the same motion. In a raspy voice he hissed “you wanna try something new and different. If I knew you were this dirty we could have done this long ago” and with that he forced his stiff rod between my lips, deep into my mouth.
Mason stood there transfixed, unsure what to do. “Give it to her son. Today she will take all of it.” And so mason obeyed. Taking his place on the bed, he rubbed his fingers over my moist slit. It was wet and ready for him. With his free hand, he massaged the entire length of his manhood, preparing it for the ensuing entrance.
The dick in my throat belonged to my husband, but I sucked it like a stranger. I was excited in so many ways. Never in my most erotic dreams would something like this happen. I felt Mason spreading my ass as he made way for his entrance. I felt the tip as he put it just barely inside. He knew he was big and was taking his time in filling me up. My husband, sensing his hesitation barked “do it!!” Not needing to be told twice he complied.
Thrusting forward, the entire length was now submerged in my very slippery passage. Coming up for air from the meal I was devouring I cried out “oh my God. Oh… my… Godddd!” Pain and pleasure mixed together… I was never this full before. The entire length and breadth of him spread me and filled me to capacity. It was a painful pleasure. Clutching at the sheets, no words, only sounds escaped from my lips. Mason was groaning as he was enveloped in a tight wet space. He was moving now; back and forth slowly, squeezing my ass for better traction as he prepared to ride me like id never been ridden before. And what a ride it was turning out to be.
His thrusts intensified as my husband now redirected my mouth to his cock. With every thrust from Mason and my husband, I felt tremors of pleasure. Jim reached over to the pink vibrator and switched it on, handing it to Mason, he said”let’s see what we can do with this”. Holding the trembling little tool he slipped one hand underneath me where he located my now sensitive clit. As Mason drilled me from behind I could no longer wait for him to thrust forward. I started to bounce back meeting him on his forward motion, ensuring that he hit that spot right on the bottom.
The squelching sounds announced just how wet I was. I was cuming, but it felt different, an immense pressure was building right where mason was pounding. I felt as though I would combust when the orgasm hit me, and combust I did. Hot creamy liquid sprayed onto Mason’s chest and my body shook. This was something that never happened to me before. I had watched a documentary once about squirting but it was an experience I couldn’t personally speak of until now. The men’s response to such a display was animalistic. I’ve never heard my husband growl in the throes of passion before. Today was full of many firsts. Clear salty liquid was now dripping from the slit on Jim’s shiny pink head and mixing with my saliva.
After the deluge things got wetter and hotter. Both men were intensifying their movements and sounds were being made deep in their throats. The primal nature of the setting was all too erotic. I licked the jewels hanging below Jim’s rod and he inhaled sharply. Jim’s head was tossed back and his eyes closed as he lavished in the moment. Mason too was lavishing, grabbing my ass tightly as he held on for the ride. Pax! The slap to my ass reverberated in the room and I moaned just as loudly. I was orgasaming again and I could do nothing but grab the bed sheets in my tight fist and hiss between my teeth. I was tossing my head left to right and willing myself to take more. Fingernails dug into my ass cheeks and fingers pulled my hair. An indication both were reaching their peak.
Three explosions happened all at once. My husband, the maintenance man and I all climaxed together. The squirt of hot liquid from between my legs was even more than before, and I drenched Mason in my juices yet again. He withdrew and in turn showered my lower back with his thick milky essence. Jim held my head in place as he spouted his seed into my throat. The chorus of loud moans that accompanied the great climax shook the room. The entire bed vibrated as we were all overtaken by waves of bliss. Exhausted from the carnal dance for three, no one spoke… there were no words to say.
The door creaked and gaining sudden strength we all hurriedly jumped to our feet.
Who the hell was in our house now?!
Mrs. Collins appeared from the hallway, smiling. My crystal dish in hand, she said “this belongs to you and I said I would return it”. Directing her next sentence to Mason she continued,” I have something in my house that needs fixing. Please see me when you are free.” And with that she placed the dish on the floor and disappeared down the stairs.
Mason flopped down onto the bed and smiled to himself. He was going to do great business servicing the housewives of this neighborhood.