He takes off his pants

You brush the towel across the hard tent in Mr. Cleft's slacks and he jerks back away from you.

"Maybe I should...I mean, I'll take my pants off," he says, obviously flustered by the close quarters in the bathroom.

He unfastens his belt and then grasps the button above his fly. You stare at him, waiting for the reveal. He seems like a real square, but he's not bad looking and you've obviously got him worked up.

"It's okay, Mr. Cleft," you reassure him.

"Maybe you should leave this to me," Mr. Cleft suggests.

You smile and play your finger seductively across your lower lip.

"But what if you need help handling your tools," you say and step up closer to him.

From this angle he can see right down your top and you can feel the tension in the air. His breathing is heavy and excited. He unbuttons his slacks and slides them slowly down his legs. His thighs are muscular and his lower legs are lightly covered in black hair.

He's wearing tighty-whiteys and they are strained to the limit by the bulging shape of his hard prick. He steps out of the slacks and tosses them aside. He covers his erection with his hands.

"Gee, Joy," he says. "If I get anything else wet I'm going to be naked."

"Oh no," you reply. "We wouldn't want any nudity."

"Well, ah, now that I found the leak, I think I can handle things," he says and reaches for his tool kit.

You step between Mr. Cleft and his tools.

"I'll get it for you," you say sweetly.

You bend over at the waist, flipping your skirt up again to reveal your firm bubble butt. You lean down to the tool box and as you do you push your butt back against Mr. Cleft so that his underwear-wrapped pipe snake is nestled right between your bare cheeks. You don't stay in that position for long, just long enough that he can feel the warmth. He groans and you stand up.

"Is this the right tool?" You ask and hold out the completely wrong wrench for him.

"Ahh...," he's too flustered to respond.

You turn fully around and press yourself against him. You lift your lips until they are only a few inches from his.

"Maybe I should go back down and check for a different tool," you suggest, your hands trailing down his muscular stomach. "Do you want that, Mr. Cleft?"