The Tool Belt
mf


He heard pounding when he opened the door, someone hammering in the back
room of the house. "Oh, Love of my life!" he called, hanging his coat up
before following the odd sound. "My adorable one! Your beloved is home!"

No response. Well, that would ordinarily have garnered a sarcastic comment.
She must be very busy to have missed an opportunity for sarcasm.

"OOOOH!" he said, rounding the corner to where she worked. She was bending
over, hammer in one hand, steadying a half-built book shelf with the other.
His eyes took in the way the tiny shorts she wore cupped her plump behind,
pressing tight up against her pussy lips, her bare thighs spread and
inviting. "Now this is a look I like!"

She started at his voice, almost falling forward. Straightening, she turned,
glaring at him. "Very funny," she said, her voice making it clear she
thought it anything but.

The front view was just as pleasing, her breasts free behind an old
tee-shirt, and his old tool belt around her full hips. "I like the tool
belt!" He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Makes me think of... screwing!"

"Well, now, that was predictable." She plucked the tape measure from the
belt, sliding it out at him. "Sorry, sweetie, but you don't measure up."

He laughed, grabbing for the tape as she let it snap back.

"Why don't you go do something productive? Dinner will be ready in an hour."
Waving the hammer at him, she tried to look stern. "Go."

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather spend the next hour having wild sex, and
then I'll help you finish the shelves?"

Frowning, she pointed at the door.

"Okay... I'm going," he responded. "But I really do think you look cute. I
keep expecting you to dance like the guys from Village People."

He ducked, running out of the room, a wad of paper bouncing off the wall in
the hall. Turning back to the bookcase, she began to fit the next shelf into
place, smiling over his comments. He was such a goofball sometimes, she
thought, bending over to pound the nails into place.

She was suddenly aware of the shorts pressing against her pussy, rubbing as
she rocked back and forth. She hadn't realized his joking had affected her
so much, feeling the wetness between her lips, the tight material
stimulating her clit. Her nipples stood stiff, the loose tee-shirt brushing
against them.

She was horny!

Standing up, she slid the hammer into its place on the belt, leaning the
half-finished shelf against the wall. Standing in the hallway, she listened
for a clue as to what room he was in. Ah... the beeps and blips alerted her.
He was playing video games in the den.

"I'm looking for a tool," she said, leaning seductively in the doorway.
"About this long, about this thick, very hard, but so smooth and slick. Know
where I could find something like that, sport?"

"Ugh...." There was a spiraling sound as his video game character died
suddenly.

"See, I've got this certain hole that needs to be filled. And the tool I'm
looking for is the only one that will fit."

She loved the shock in his eyes, the open mouth as he stared at her.
Crossing the room, she dropped a cassette into the tape player, the
painfully familiar "Y.M.C.A." filling the room. Soon he was laughing
hysterically as she danced for him, hooking her fingers in the belt and
swinging her hips wide.

To complete the dance, she grabbed the hem of her torn tee-shirt and pulled,
the tear revealing her bouncing breasts, the hard nipples drawing his
attention. Holding the shredded shirt open, she danced closer, shaking her
breasts in his face.

He could take it no more, grabbing her and pulling her down on the couch
with him. She squealed, his mouth clamping around her nipple sending shock
waves of pleasure through her. One hand was already inside her shorts,
sliding against her sensitive clit.

She moaned, arching her back, letting him manipulate her body like he did so
very well. It wasn't long before she was gasping, writhing on his lap,
drenching his fingers with her love juices. Oh yes, he knew how to play her,
she thought, wave after wave of intense pleasure crashing through her. "So,"
she managed to say, almost holding her breath so she could speak, "have you
seen that tool I was looking for?"

"I think I have." Pushing the ruined tee-shirt off her shoulders, he helped
her up, sliding the shorts off her hips. She began to unbuckle the tool
belt, but he stopped her. "Leave it on for a minute." He stroked her
stomach, then moved down to rub the outside of her hairless pussy lips. "I
don't know why... It's sexy."

She laughed, twisting her hips to make the hanging tools swing. He opened
his pants, letting his cock out, sighing happily. Moving carefully, she
climbed onto his lap, sliding her wet pussy down around his hard cock. "Oh,
yes..." she moaned, her knees sinking into the couch around him, forcing his
cock deeper inside her. "I do believe we have the perfect fit."

He played with her breasts and let her do the work, watching her raise her
body up and down on his cock. They could both feel the cold metal of the
different tools against their skin. With a soft cry, she began to move
faster, faster, and he found himself bucking against her, thrusting up in to
her.

Catching her hands, he held them against his chest as she began her orgasm,
following as soon as he felt her pussy muscles begin to pulse around his
cock. She lay against him, hands between their bodies, purring contentedly
as she always did after great lovemaking. A deep rumble erupted from his
chest; he was purring to.

"You know," she said after a moment, "I think I may need your tool again
tonight," she whispered in his ear.

The book case didn't get finished that night.