Hello! And welcome to the Labor Day Blog Hop. As the title suggests, we have some working men on tap this weekend. And I myself have a “before” and “after.” In case you stumbled upon this page by accident but are just titillated enough to want more, check out the entire Hop. It starts here. And now on to the good stuff:
“Right there,” she said. “Yeah, deeper. Deeper, as far as you can go. That’s it.”
He grunted and bore down.
“Perfect. Twist a little, yeah just like that. A little farther, yesyesyes!”
“Woman, will you shut up and let me do this?”
“But you’re almost there! Just a little–”
“Well maybe if you moved your ass a little I could get some leverage.”
Blushing, Linda shifted enough that her head wasn’t hovering over the sink anymore.
Breathing half in relief and half with defeat, Damon pulled his tool out. “This isn’t working.”
“What do you mean?” she whined, big eyes growing teary.
“I mean, love, that I can’t get in there from this angle. I’ll have to go in from underneath.”
She swallowed. “Can you do that?”
Damon scratched his head, contemplating the situation. “It’ll be messy,” he warned. “But yeah. Yeah, I can do it.” The things he did for this woman… on a Sunday, no less. He was pretty sure that when God invented the seventh day of rest, this was not what He had in mind.
“I’ll get some pillows and towels,” Linda said gravely.
He watched her lush ass sway left and right – he swore she did that just to get under his skin. And damn if it didn’t work. Every. Time.
She returned in less than a minute, her arms full. They arranged the pillows on the edge, towels at the ready. Damon lay down, his head right underneath. He clamped down and flexed his considerable muscles, honed from years of hard work. Doing this.
“You can do it, babe,” she cheered and he almost laughed. Hell yeah, he could do this. But he could show off a little, too. “Go… go…. Go!”
The tension gave way with a rush and Damon was drenched. Linda squealed and handed him a towel to wipe his face off. He grunted again when he carefully released the p-trap. It took some careful maneuvering to get out from underneath the sink. Linda watched him with baited breath as he turned the piece of plumbing over.
A mass of gunk plopped out on one of the towels, mixed in a decent sized hair ball. Damon eyed Linda’s long blond hair and refrained from commenting. It was useless.
Poking around in the stuff, he finally saw a faint glint of gold. Linda gasped and ripped it out of his hand before he could even get a good grip. And right back to the damn sink she went to wash it off.
With the p-trap still in his hand.
“Put it down.”
Glaring daggers, he stuck his upper body back under that sink to reattach the pipe and make sure it was sealed tight. When it was finished, he stood up and took the ring to rinse off for her. He took her hand to put it back on her finger. “Now what have we learned?” For the fifth time. This year.
“Don’t leave wedding ring at the edge of the sink when I’m washing up,” she answered obediently. Then, smiling so bright he felt his heart skip, she flung her arms around him and smacked a loud kiss on his mouth. “Thank you, honey.”
Damon grinned at his wife. “You’re welcome.” He slapped both hands over her ass. “Now what should we do for the rest of the day?”