The heating engineer

Sophie loved the look on the man’s face when he opened the door. It had been a couple of years but still she never tired of it. The double-take when men saw her diminutive form clad in a boiler suit, toolbox in hand, a beaming smile on her face. “Central heating problem, sir?”

He stood aside and Sophie breezed past, noting how he checked her out. They always did: when she took the job she’d insisted on her own overalls and she knew they showed her tiny frame off perfectly.

“It’s in the kitchen”, he stuttered and, following his glance she kicked off her work boots. “I like to respect your property, sir”, she smiled, then walked, barefoot, ahead of him, suspecting he was looking at her small bottom in the tight suit.

The boiler was high up in a kitchen cupboard and Sophie was soon at work, kneeling on a counter, her upper torso buried inside the cupboard. She worked out the problem really quickly, she had a knack for this, but took her time, doing a thorough job.

The man watched her the while time, in silence, and she smiled to herself as she imagined the scene. It was quite common that men couldn’t work out that an attractive young women would not only want to do this job but would also be good at it, and so they watched intently; and she enjoyed the attention. Twisting inside the cupboard, she made her top gape, knowing he’d get a good view and knowing he’d look. She was nearly finished now, but spun it out, knowing he could see her small breasts inside the overalls (she rarely wore a top) as the zipper separated. A quick glance confirmed his interest and she smiled again: he was actually quite cute.

“There!”, she exclaimed, leannng back and beaming across at him as she wiped her hands before springing back down lightly to the floor . “All done. I’ll just need to leave it on test for about 15 minutes, to make sure, while I do the paperwork”. He still said nothing, so she continued, “would you mind if I used your bathroom?”

He shook his head and lead the way out of the kitchen. Sophie followed him upstairs and pushed open the door that he gestured to, finding herself in a small but attractive modern bathroom. She’d taken in the family photographs on the way up the stairs. Happy smiling faces of the man with a woman (his wife?) and two young girls. A happily married man, she suspected.

Sophie unzipped her overalls and let them pool at her ankles as she slipped her panties down and perched on the toilet seat, being so small, she was often on tippy toes as she peed. She’d left the door open and she glanced across as she let a strong jet of pee noisily disturb the smooth surface in the loo. Sure enough, he was taking a sly look through the not-quite-closed door. Most men did, they could not resist such an opportunity. She let him watch without giving the game away, squeezing more out to prolong the show before standing and dabbing her soft brown curls slowly.

She flushed with her back to the door, showing him her small naked bottom, before tugging up her panties and overalls. As she moved to the sink to wash her hands she looked boldly towards the door and winked at him, playfully. His game was up, and she grinned, knowingly, enjoying the red flush to his cheeks before his head darted back away from the door..

When Sophie walked out of the bathroom, the husband was standing away from the bathroom across the landing, waiting with an air of affected indifference, as though it had never happened. He didn’t make eye contact.

Sophie saw a bedroom door to her left and walked through, “is this your bedroom?”. Inside, she found a spacious bedroom adorned with the feminine touches of married life and, again, family photographs. She stood on the far side of the bed, barefoot in her overalls, inspecting the wedding photograph on the bedside table as he hesitated uncertainly at the door. She opened the top drawer and looked inside, seeing a collection of things that told her that his was his wife’s side: moisturiser, creams, make-up wipes. Alongside some more intimate items: lubricant, condoms, a vibrator. She took the vibrator out as he watched silently. She flipped the ‘on’ button and it sprang into life in her hand as she hefted it, gauging it. She looked across at him as she put it to her nose and sniffed. She was brazen. It smelled feminine. Of his wife. Her sex.

That made her mind up. She turned to face him as she unzipped her overalls fully and let them fall again, standing there naked apart from her panties . His eyes followed her hands as she hooked her thumbs inside her panties and eased them down before stepping out of them. She smiled across at the nervous husband as she lifted the duvet and crooked her finger at him, beckoning him to her as she laid herself down, naked, atop the sheets that still smelled of his wife.

Slowly, he edged around the bed towards her. “Come on”, she urged in a soft voice, her eyes following him as he approached. Sophie could see, despite his apparent , an erection had formed in his pants, now that he stood above her by the bed.

She reached up and slowly pulled down on the zipper that concealed his excitement. “You know you want to”, she teased, quietly, as her tiny fingers fished inside his shorts and freed his cock. Her hand was small and he felt thick as she moved it slowly up and down, tugging his underwear down with her other hand. She looked in his eyes now as she started to massage along his full length, moving from his balls to the tip and then back down again. His cock wasn’t long but was thick, and had a nice shape that she explored with her hand.

She grasped his cock firmly now and pulled him toward her, “come on”, she urged, tugging him as he stepped out of his shorts. She fished in the bedside cabinet, his wife’s picture looking back at them as she did so. “I think she’d prefer that we used one of these”, Sophie giggled, as she emerged with a condom. She tore the foil and expertly slipped the tip over the head before smoothing it down his penis. “There”, she said as she urged him onto the bed, “now you’re dresed for the part”, opening her legs and scooting down to meet him.

Despite his obvious excitement, the husband still needed some direction, but Sophie was determined to fuck him, and in his own bed. She massaged his cock with one hand as she moved her other hand to her sex, pushing fingers inside herself, finding herself nicely moist. Now that he was above her, the difference in their sizes was more apparent, her small frame so tiny beneath him she had to scoot herself up more to present her sex to him, pushing the head between her lips and pushing with her hips to make him penetrate her.

“Nnghhhh”, with a grunt he entered her and put his hands on her shoulders. Sophie smiled, victorious, as his cock pushed inside before withdrawing slightly and then starting again. Slowly, he fucked her. Very slowly.

Sophie leaned back and luxuriated in her triumph. She’s known, from the moment that their eyes met when he opened the front door, the way he’s looked her up and down, that she could have him, the doting husband. And she had. Here he was , pushing back and forth inside her, probably like he did his wife every Saturday night, if she let him. Emotionless. Methodical.

She looked up at the smiling wife in the wedding photograph as she inched her hips to enjoy her husband’s cock inside her, grinning. Wondering.

Sophie spread her arms and legs wide making herself an X for the husband, wrapping her wrists in the sheets, binding herself.

She taunted him above her, gently. “Is this how she likes it? Wifey?”, and, feeling him respond, she moved her hips and fucked him back, just a little. “Does she like you tying her up? Or do you have to fantasise?”. He fucked her harder now, she thought she was onto something.

“Go on, fuck me, live out your dark fantasies”, and, feeling his hands gripping her slight shoulders, she played up to her small size beneath him. “Maybe it’s something younger and smaller you secretly desire?”. Now a definite thrust with his grunts, she reached out to the bedside table again, inspired.

Gathering her hair in bunches, she slipped the hairbands the wife had discarded around her now tousled hair and made two hasty pigtails, bucking against him now, in a girly voice, “oh, please no, mister”, she played. And he pushed down hard , fucking her hard now: better, different, a changed man. Long strokes becoming violent stabs inside her and exciting Sophie with his new found ardour. A changed man, gripping her firmly, grinding inside her, and she rose to grip him with knees and arms, hanging from him, riding with him with her tiny, bare feet flexed, urging him on.

“Go on”, she breathed in his ear, her fingers inside herself again, teasing the condom , tearing it with her nails until, removed , she displayed it to him even as he fucked her. And that was the trigger as, one hand now around her throat, he bore down hard upon and in her, unprotected, wanting to cum.

Sophie could barely breathe and her eyes went wide with a mixture of fear and excitement as he drove back and forth inside her, so hard it hurt. “That’s right, daddy”, she muttered hoarsely through her gasps as her small body gripped onto him with her knees, driving her clitoris against him, feeling the familiar waves between her legs as her orgasm started to build, “fuck your little girl”

At her words, a look came over his face and he froze momentarily, still inside her. Then he picked her up, forcibly, like a doll in his arms, and flipped her roughly over onto her knees, forcing the breath out of her and causing her to cry out. She was losing control, and she liked it.

He pushed her face down hard on the bed, with a hand on the back of her neck, spreading her pussy lips with his rough fingers, her ass perched in the air, and for a second she thought he was going to take her there. She struggled against him, “whoa fella, come on”, but he was bigger and stronger and she yelled,”stop now”, vainly as his thick cock was shoved roughly inside her again, his hands now on her hips. He fucked her like an animal, making her gasp with each thrust as she looked into the eyes of his wife from the bedside table, catching the girlish pigtails of own reflection of the photograph.

“Take it, bitch!”. The first words he had spoken, as he leaned back and she felt his cum spew inside her. Her pain became pleasure in her moment of triumph, her legs shaking as her orgasm rippled though her and he stuck his thumb in her ass in an inspired touch of humiliation.