The Handyman

by Guy le Bouc

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© Copyright 2024 - Guy le Bouc - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; M/f; bagged; transported; toys; tease; blindfold; tape; caught; cuffs; collar; hogtie; susp; sex; cuckold; cheat; public; mast; cons; X

Continues from

Based on a fantasy by mon cheri

Wenda’s Paint and Cabinetry

While on their usual morning walk, Wenda exclaimed, “Well, I must say, Lloyd looks like a changed man! He seems so much more… confident these days! You working him more now that he’s working himself less?”

With a grin and a blush Jenny replied, “Something like that. I’m just glad he’s decided to give up Parliament and get back into private practice. He’s so much happier now.”

“And you looked so very cute, the two of you out for an evening stroll last night,” chimed Linda. Jenny kept quiet and merely smiled. (In reality she and Lloyd were trying out his new chastity cage, seeing how it felt and if it was comfortable enough as he moved around in it.)

Wenda checked her watch. “Oy! Not bad for six kilometers! Fifty-five and a half minutes!” The group was nearly at the head of their cul-de-sac. “Guess I’ll get on with the day then. I’m so excited! My new cabinets arrived yesterday! See you lot tonight!”

“Be a dear and bring a bottle of gin. I’m mixing up Bramble this evening and I’m afraid I’m running short.”

“Sounds brilliant Becky. Anything for you, love!” Wenda stopped her watch timer as she stepped up to her gate. She scrolled through her phone, looking for any messages from her fiancée. Justin would be around to work on her new cabinetry in a few minutes.

It was already three days into Aston’s itinerary. He would be piloting a passenger jet back from Singapore by tomorrow. Wenda thought about how they met as she unlocked the front door, the magnetism between them at the time. She a stewardess, he an up-and-coming copilot. At the time she thought it a rite of passage to join the “mile-high club” as gossip about various pilots and stewardesses hooking up made the rounds between her coworkers. But there she was, proving the stereotypical sordid exploits true when she was flying with Aston. Sex in the lavatory, a quicky in the cockpit when the chief pilot stepped out, hot and raucous sex in company hotel rooms at exotic destinations. When they had more time, she enjoyed using cuffs and collars, leather and blindfolds, toys in her carry-on that made it through security checks (the thought of being discovered was always a hot button for her). It was a fast, adventurous, fun lifestyle.

After he proposed they moved in together, it got harder to be together as he climbed in position. Conjoined routes and schedules became increasingly untenable with any predictability. Wenda stopped being a stewardess to stay in London and manage personnel for the airline while Aston continued his career ascent. But then pictures and flirty texts began to surface. Aston was not so careful with his phone and email accounts. Fellow flight attendants and strange women on holiday were smiling too broadly, teasing indiscretions, and showing too much for her to ignore. Wenda was hurt. She didn’t confront him, and Aston continued as if things were normal though she always found new photos and messages from new girls. The thought of Aston sleeping with them while she was isolated shattered her, yet she found it deeply intriguing. It was a few years back that she then started her self-bondage sessions while thinking about Aston’s liaisons. A hidden fascination of becoming a cuckquean, bound away while her man flounced with other girls tickled an exhilarating submissive desire deep in her psyche.

It was during a session one year ago that she was discovered by her laborer. Wenda had pushed herself a bit too far and got careless or complacent with her predicament that day. A leather blindfold was tightly buckled over her eyes and duct tape silenced her lips as the rest of her was tightly bound. Her forty-minute session devolved into two hours as the keys had slipped between the couch cushions while Wenda fidgeted and struggled at her bonds.

Her watch timer beeped incessantly as her restrained hands fruitlessly groped for the small set of keys. Losing track of her release, she panicked as humiliation and embarrassment set in. If one of her friends didn’t find her first, Justin certainly would as his appointment to paint the hall was set for 1pm. The hopelessness of her situation made her all the hornier and she soaked the couch cushion. She could do nothing but wait, still writhing desperately to find the keys.

She finally heard a truck pull up and switch off. Her heart beat faster as her clitoris pulsed, her mortification spiked sharply. The sound of the door and footsteps inside made her squeal and squirm urgently at her bonds. “Hello? Wenda? I’m here! I have the colors you wanted!” She began to contort as a sudden sweat made her shiver. Her vagina quivered given the disgrace of allowing herself to be caught, possibly groped by a familiar ruffian. Her orgasm built despite best efforts to quell it. Trying to put the genie back in the bottle became a lost cause.

“Oh! Wha… Are you okay?” Justin was shocked to find her bound, moaning, grinding her pelvis into the sofa. He found her shackled in a hogtie with steel cuffs and a collar on, short lengths of chain pulling her neck back toward her wrists and ankles. Her slim, tanned figure curled back at the waist with her svelte legs and toned arms straining, as her ample size-C breasts bulged against the upholstery.

“MmmPhff!” her orgasm was nearing. As he put a hand near the small of her back to examine the chains, it finally broke in a shameful torrent. The warm, rough feel of his digits on her skin as she knew his eyes were on her capitulated body sent her crashing over the edge. She convulsed, “OmmPHFF! UmPhf! Umnph! Umnph!” Justin ripped the tape off her ruby lips. “Oh God! Oh! I… Ughnn! Oh my God!” Utterly embarrassed she ventured best she could to regain her breath and try to save face. “Um, hello. I didn’t mean for you to find me like this. I… I lost the keys somewhere. Would you find them for me please?”

Justin left the blindfold on to save her the further embarrassment of her watching him eye her body as he checked the floor and under the couch. “Were they near you?”

“Yes. If they aren’t on the floor, perhaps they’ve slipped under me?”

Justin rummaged between the cushions from the front edge of the couch. “Found ‘em. Hey, this is really dangerous, you know. What if I hadn’t been able to make it today? Or someone else came in?” There was a clearly disapproving note in his tone. He began by undoing the chain at her neck before releasing her wrists and ankles. 

Wenda laid prone as she stretched and flexed her tired muscles. Justin draped a nearby robe over her. “Ow, ooh… Oh, I know. I didn’t plan to get stuck for so long.”

“I could be useful if this is something you wish to continue doing. I can give you details once you get yourself in order. If not, consider it forgotten and I’ll say no more.” He left the room.

Wenda was surprised at Justin’s professionalism and straightforward demeanor as she undid the blindfold and quickly put the robe on. She was intrigued about his offer as he seemed acutely aware of this type of activity and had some kind of experience or involvement in it apart from what he had just walked in on. He wasn’t lewd or lascivious and certainly could have had his way with her if he chose. His calm gentlemanly presence made her both appreciative (being the one to find her) and stirred depraved feelings within herself. Noticing the cushion, she quickly flipped it over, pulling her straight jet-black hair back behind her shoulders before venturing out of the living room to find him in the hall. 

His discrete services explained over a cup of tea, Wenda felt safer and assured with Justin now on contract regarding her desires. He made her promise for her own safety that she wouldn’t try anything like that without his supervision again. Her designs were disclosed and approved; she did allow Justin to fulfill some of her carnal needs from time to time. Scenes involved taking advantage of her in her predicaments, “discovered”, fondled, and used. If Aston was enjoying himself while away, why shouldn’t she? Her stipulation was that she was always to be blindfolded as she was objectified and shagged. Wenda enjoyed the taste of danger and deprivation mixed with bondage and Justin keenly filled out her project designs, to her complete satisfaction.

The cherry wood kitchen cabinets delivered and unpacked the previous day, Justin planned to begin installation. If things went smoothly, the countertops could be emplaced and then all that would be left would be caulking, plumbing, and finish work the day after.

Knock, knock… knock… … knock. The specific series announced his arrival.

There was a moment’s hesitation as he listened. Hearing nothing Justin slipped inside the door with a large slightly worn black duffle bag with rollers at one end filled with heavy tools; circular saw, nail gun, drills, and an assortment of other bulky implements. A smaller bag in his other hand held plumbing parts and tools.

“Hello? Wenda? It’s Justin!” he announced loudly as he took off his boots. He rolled the black bag with him as he locked the door behind. Walking through the foyer he rounded into the living room where Wenda sat bolt upright in a red silk robe. The shades were half-closed, allowing a good amount of light in. A black figure-eight leather blindfold was already tightly buckled over her eyes as she sipped from a delicate teacup. She gracefully set it down on a saucer on the coffee table. A small assortment of bondage gear, a pair of opal ben wa balls, and a miniature wand vibe with remote were close by. Her hair was drawn up into a large ponytail held by a red scrunchy.

Justin glanced at her but said nothing as he wheeled his tools around the pony wall into the kitchen. He unzipped the bag and pulled a level, drill and a few other items out. He looked back over at Wenda who had stood. Without a word she undid the knot in her robe and slowly let it drop, revealing her naked backside. Justin stopped what he was doing and walked to her. He picked up the ben wa balls and gently fed them past her plump lips. She rolled them with her tongue. Placing an open hand at her chin, she deposited the warmed and wettened spheres. He kneeled to feed the opal balls into her bald pussy which was already wettened with anticipation. “Mmm…” her nipples erected as the first one was pushed up into her, followed by the second and Justin’s index finger. “…Ohmm.” He gave a slight wiggle, making sure they were sufficiently placed and not going to slip out as she swayed slightly. Withdrawing, he took up a roll of black duct tape from the table. Rip… Wenda pushed her jaw forward as Justin affixed the wide band of tape over her mouth. “Mmmm…”

Justin grabbed a series of black leather bondage straps off the coffee table and arranged them on the couch. He took Wenda by the shoulders and guided her to sit once more before he swept her gams from beneath her, moving her to lay flat atop the straps. The first one fastened was a belt at the waist with two cuffs attached at her hips to encase her wrists at her sides. Another belt was buckled tightly above her elbows and below her breasts. Her arms pinned rigidly at her flanks, Justin fastened another belt above her knees and a last pair of fixed leather cuffs were fastened around her ankles. “Hmmm…”

Wenda blindly writhed a little as Justin eyed her up and down. Small brass locks were placed in all the buckles, giving her a sense of encasement from which there was no escape. Placing the keys on the table, he picked up the tape again and tore another strip securing the small wand vibe to the top of her quim. With no pubic hair to contend with, it was easily positioned against her clit. “HmOo! Omm… Hmm…”

Justin started the vibe on the lowest possible setting, letting it edge her while he worked. He stuck the remote into his pants pocket. One last idea came to him. He ripped two small squares of duct tape as Wenda wondered before she felt them affixed atop her nipples. The impromptu pasties gave her a new sensitivity as she felt her areolas strain against the adhesive. 

“…HmmOmmm…” The waves of pleasure were infuriatingly too little to bring her to orgasm, it was still at an enjoyable simmer.

Her hands and feet flexed as her body wriggled, sometimes jerking, toes contorting wildly, her body sank into the foam cushions. Justin began installing the new cabinetry as Wenda listened and contorted, arching and jarring in her bonds. Her moans intermittent and breathing irregular, it became distracting for Justin after three hours into his labors. He occasionally tiptoed over the back of the couch to check on her as his cock actively shifted in his pants. She was very tempting indeed as the wetness at her crotch became more and more pronounced, her erogenous zones reddening with desire. Wenda began to want more as she envisioned Justin watching her. She whimpered for a touch, a brush on her breast, a finger at her pussy. The ben wa balls kept up a consistent pleading from within. Their movements and bumping elicited further groans of wanton lust. Unable to touch herself, her pleas stoked Justin to do so, though she remained woefully disappointed.

Justin, while thoroughly aroused, kept his hands busy with woodworking as he tried to stay focused on accurate measurements, leveling, shimming, and securing the expensive cabinets to wall studs. He couldn’t help letting his mind wander to the sensuous heat coming off the trapped woman so near at hand. The minutes stretched as Justin’s cock strained in his denim. It was all he could do to stay focused as sweat formed on his neck and brow.

Ring, RingRing, Ring….

“Hello. Riverland Construction… What? Are you serious?... Okay, just hang tight and hold a towel over it for now. I’ll be over in a second… Huh? Oh… Sounds like a plan.”

Wenda tried to control her lust as she took in what she just overheard. Justin stepped over to the couch. “Listen, I just got a call about an urgent situation and I have to get over there right now. Your session isn’t over but… I can’t leave you here either.” The leather blindfold was removed. Wenda’s eyes adjusted to the glaring light, a questioning look of concern. Justin, his rigid muscular torso over her, was giving off a mischievous vibe. “You up for a little emergency call?” 


“You’ll have to keep quiet though.”

“MeeeMmm!” She squealed in surprise as Justin bent down and scooped her over, turning her onto her stomach with his sinewy arms as if she were a rag doll. Justin hurriedly retrieved some cord that he used to keep extension cords in order, looping it through her ankle cuffs and bending her knees up to her hips. Wenda felt a hand pull her ponytail, craning her head back a bit. She suddenly realized Justin was knotting the cord around her ponytail. Her head and calves bent toward each other, she tried to look sidelong at Justin as she flexed her fingers in shock. A look of perverted shame on her face.

“That’s not too tight is it? Any circulation cut off?”

“Mmnoo?”, she replied shyly. Justin then hurried away. Wenda heard a number of items being quickly dumped out of something before she heard wheels coming her direction.

“I think this will do the trick.” And with that he scooped her up and gently settled her inside the large black tool bag, the flat bottom was rigid and sturdy but slightly cold against her skin. Justin stood back admiring how well she fit inside, bound as she was. She gave a fearful look of desperation before the top was zippered around, closing her inside. Justin bent down to the side near her head. “Hey, can you see out this hole?”

Wenda peered around the darkened enclosure before finding the one-inch ragged slit in the side of the bag. Moving as best she could to get her eye near it, she saw Justin crouched down with an impish grin and a separate bag of tools in hand. “Alright, here we go.” He stood and the end of the bag near her head lifted slightly. The motion of being rolled across the flooring was somewhat invigorating as the grooved wheels gave the bottom of the bag a constant buzzing vibration. Wenda moaned as the combination of the vibe at her clit pressed into her and combined with the effect of the movement.

“MmooMmm!” There was a bump and her body bounced as she was wheeled over the threshold. Despite her clandestine enclosure, she felt utterly exposed beyond the door. Fearful but turned on all the more. “OOoohmm!”

“Hey, I said keep it down. Unless…” Wenda felt the vibe climb up a notch. Her pussy quivered and juices leaked as her clit buzzed with embarrassing excitement. She attempted to keep her pleasure in check lest a neighbor inquire about the bag.

“HooMmm! Mmoo!” She twitched and strained as she continued to move down the walk. She could see Paula’s and then Linda’s houses on the left before there were more bumps as the bag started across the asphalt. Oh no! Becky’s house?! The vibe climbed down to its minimum setting once more. Wenda huffed in disappointment as the journey nearly brought her to orgasm. “HoomWoo!”, she felt the bag being lifted and swing as Justin walked up the steps to the front door.

A whisper hissed to her ears, “Quiet, or you’ll be the one to do the explaining!”

Ding Dong!

A distinctly harried yell came through the door, “Come in! Please hurry!”

Wenda saw herself being carried through the door before being set on the carpet. The vibe started up immediately on the third level as she muffled her cry, lifting her pelvis off the hard bottom lest the noise of the wand give her away. She peered with a sidelong view out of the hole to see quite a commotion. Becky was on the landing of her stairs, her blouse and skirt soaked with two hands holding a towel against the wettened drywall. A hammer and picture frame at her feet. 

“What happened?” Justin asked as he briskly walked toward the basement door.

“I was hanging a new painting and someone put a bloody waterpipe on the other side of this wall! Please hurry!”

Justin gave a hearty laugh as he hurried down the steps. Wenda watched Becky struggle to keep her arms against the towel, surmising that she’d been in that position for a while and if she’d put them down, a stream of water would shoot out onto the carpeting. Becky glanced over at the black bag before she turned her attention to Justin who had come back up the stairs. “Ok, I turned off the main. Let me open the taps in the kitchen to back the pressure off.” The water issued into the sink before graduating to a trickle, and then a slow drip. “You should be ok to let go of the towel now.”

“Bloody hell! What a disaster! Ugh.” Wenda giggled at Becky’s situation as she rocked her hips, trying to quell her urge to indulge herself. “I’m supposed to be hosting the girls tonight. Now what am I going to do?” 

Justin put a hand in his pocket and the vibe climbed down a bit, much to Wenda’s relief. “Well… I can cut a hole and patch the pipe today. I’ll come back another time to mud and tape the wall.”

“What about the hole?”

“Your painting looks large enough. You could just shift it to one side. It should hide the damage from your party.”

“Oh, spot on. Look at me, I’m soaking. Let me just get myself in order.” Becky picked up the towel and headed up the stairs to her bedroom.

Justin, giving a long smirk to Wenda, moved to where Becky had just been. He reached in his pocket once more. Wenda stifled a squeal as the vibe slowly climbed and then lowered to a stop, with a brief respite before three prolonged stiff buzzes started the cycle over in a repeating pattern. Each time she arched herself off the hard plastic bottom of the bag as the wetness ran down her legs and midriff. Nearly silent moans of desperation and agony left her. She jerked and convulsed, trying not to move as much as could be helped. The ben wa balls clattered within. It was driving her nearly insane as she was continually edged to orgasm, trying with every fiber to maintain herself while Justin worked to cut open the wall with a utility knife and repair the water-pipe just on the other side. Five, fifteen, twenty-five minutes passed as Wenda broke into a sweat, soft, nearly silent yelps of humiliating pleasure escaped in worrying escalation. She could only hope the bag masked her audible distress. 

Becky reappeared at the top of the bannister, putting Wenda in a state of shock. “Looks like you managed that fairly quickly. You ready for a reward for your valiant efforts, helping a lady in distress?” She was wearing a red lace bra and matching crotchless panties, a black rod spreader bar in one hand, and a pair of handcuffs and rope in the other.

Justin was putting his tools back in the small bag, “Go ahead and set up. I’m going to turn the water back on and check for leaks. If that’s alright, I’ll hang your painting after.” Mercifully, the vibe climbed down and stayed at the minimum setting. Wenda gave an audible sigh of relief, absently forgetting about Becky, alone at the top of the stairs. Scared for herself, she peaked out the hole again to see Becky suspiciously staring at her position. A curious look on her face as she passed the rope over the railing and slowly descended the stairs to the landing, still staring at the bag.

Wenda went into a panic and became a statue, daring not to move, much less breath. The water suddenly gushed out of the kitchen taps, drawing Becky’s attention just as Justin reappeared, closing the basement door and running to turn off the water at the sink. He was wearing that impish smirk again, “Becky, would you set my tool bag next to the big one please?” Wenda immediately felt the vibe run up to medium. She tensed yet again as her neck and knees began to burn and tire, eyes wide with terror for fear of giving herself away. Becky picked up the sack and descended the last of the stairs, setting her cuffs and bar at the foot. Wenda stiffened, stifling her proscribed pleasure as she watched Becky padding toward her. She quietly admired her figure and gorgeous curves, her flowing hair swaying behind her. Justin removed his shirt, laying it over a barstool in the kitchen as he watched the two of them get closer. Wenda was entirely petrified as her body threatened to give her away. Her pussy ached for release, all but bursting, as her breasts ground against the floor. She watched Becky come closer and closer to the peephole. The vibe climbed one more level. Tears formed, her mouth clenched, and toes and fingers curled as she let out a long, slow, deep exhale through her nose. Becky crouched right next to her, her face visible as she glanced down and then… the bag was set down, and Becky stalked over to Justin.

“I thought you were going to check for leaks? Oh! Hmmnnn.”

“Who says I haven’t?” Justin grasped Becky, pulling her into him as a hand moved up her thigh and over her neatly trimmed pussy. He kissed her neck, hands moving over skin as he looked over her shoulder at Wenda. A forbidden taboo realized, she was so near to cumming, bound and hidden in plain sight watching the two of them grope each other like animals in heat, lust on their breath. Becky was lifted onto the counter as Justin ran his tongue between her legs. Their salacious actions drove Wenda to the brink, her body shuddered with the effort.

After Becky was thoroughly warmed, Justin led her to the rope and put the handcuffs on behind her back. He then put the spreader bar on her ankles, pushing them three feet apart. He looped the rope through the cuffs and gently pulled Becky’s arms up as she bent at the waist, her position putting her head ninety-degrees to her legs, arms straight up in the air. Wenda was stunned at just how flexible Becky was to be put into a strappado as the vibe continued to drive her wild. Justin turned her vibe up another level as sweat and fluid covered her. A small squeak escaped as the smell of her own musk and heat built. Her eyes rolled back as she moaned in low tenors. 

Justin pulled his cock out of his pants and put a rubber on. He got in front of Becky and pulled her head back, forcing his large throbbing unit into her mouth. Becky moaned as he deepthroated her, making his own pronounced sounds of enjoyment. Wenda continued to watch as the long-denied orgasm teetered, her clitoris and nipples on fire. The tape around her mouth was moist and loosened. After ten minutes, Justin stopped feeding his cock into Becky’s mouth, and moved behind her. “Oh! Yes, give it to me!” Smack! “Oh! Yes! Fu… Oh God! It’s sooo large! Ooh! Lord! OOHH!” Wenda’s vibe climbed to its maximum setting. She could hold no longer as she watched Justin roughly fuck Becky from behind, his savage roars issuing as he hammered into Becky. Her screams of delight and hedonism echoing through her house.

Oh Fuck! Oh! Oh! I’m gunna CUUUMMM! OH NO! FUCK!!! I’m CUMMING! OOOhhhh! Ugh Ugh! Yes! Fuck, YES! FUCK! YES! YES!!! Wenda spasmed as hot muted sounds of lust and pleasure escaped. The tape came off her mouth as the long torrent flooded her senses and gave rapturous pleasure to her body. Her breathing deep and ragged, she did the best she could to keep quiet as her muscles strained at their bonds. Her nipples were hypersensitive to the tape over them. Within her depredation, she continued to watch Justin fully throttling Becky, their bodies slapping into one another. “OH! OH! Yes! YES! Fuck Me! YES! OoohH! GOD! OOooohh!”

“Ugh Ugh! Fuck! Yeah! Take It! OH!” Justin blew his load inside the condom, powering into Becky with his final thrusts “UgHH! UGHHH! FUUUCK!! Oohmn!” He withdrew as Becky went limp. Wenda’s vibe powered down to the second level, enough to make her squirm, condemned to building a second climax. 

Justin released Becky from her bonds and carried her up the stairs to her bedroom. He came down alone, stopping to check the pipe in the wall before picking up the hammer and nail Becky had abandoned earlier. Wenda’s vibe climbed another level. He tapped the nail into the wall three inches to the left and above the hole he’d cut. He hung the painting and straightened it, taking a step back to admire the placement. “Well, time to head back.” He made his way to his shirt and put it on before picking up the small tool bag.

A hushed whisper came from the large bag, “Oh! Please! No more!”

Justin ignored her and picked her up, carrying her out and down the steps. As soon as she was down again the vibe climbed two more levels. The torture was heightened as the ben wa balls caused her pussy to torque with their gyrations. A high-pitched plea in the form of a squeal escaped as the wheels began to whirr under her again. Bumps buffeted her breasts as they crossed the cul-de-sac. 

“Oh! Hi Justin! Are you just coming from Becky’s?” Jenny stopped the pair of them on the other side. Oh fuck! No! It’s so close! Wenda went flush at the thought of being caught outside, and by another friend no less. She tensed as her clit buzzed with the prospect of another orgasm.

“Hi Jenny. How are you Linda?” Oh no, not two! The dread set in fast as her stimulation was at the breaking point. The humiliation of the situation made her hot and bothered all the more.

“I’m fine, thanks. Well, we were just at Wenda’s hoping to see the new cabinets she was on about, but neither of you were in. We thought it a bit odd.”

Justin was just ambiguous enough, “Oh, yes. Becky needed my help rather urgently. She mentioned something about a party tonight.”

“We’re just having our usual nightcap at her place this evening. Is she alright?” Jenny questioned.

“She’s been through a bit but she’s taking a nap now that it’s been sorted. Best not to ask her about it though. I think she’d be embarrassed about the mess she caused herself. Wenda probably just ran an errand while I was helping Becky.”

Linda put the dots together, “Oh, yes. Becky did tell her to bring gin for Bramble. She’s probably just at the off-license.”

“Well, I should get back to her cabinets before she comes back. Ladies.”

Just after leaving Linda and Jenny, with more houses to go up the block, the vibe climbed to maximum again and Wenda failed to hold off any longer. A long soft wail of desperation issued from the bag followed by sharp noises of orgasm in rapid succession. Wenda was a hot, sticky, convulsing mess within the rolling compartment. Having an orgasm outdoors was overwhelming and she bit her lip hard, trying to contain the wicked pleasures of being bound in public, hidden in a roughly used bag for anyone to open. She suddenly felt weightless as the light from the outside world suddenly darkened. She heard a door close, and the vibe finally ceased as her orgasm heaved and subsided. “Well, did you enjoy your little field trip?”

Wenda let a long, loud wail of complete depravity and satisfaction escape as her body went into shock from holding herself back for so long. Tears were in her eyes though she absolutely loved every minute of her session this day. Wenda reasoned that this must be what heaven felt like, at least for her. Justin lifted her from the bag and deposited her on the couch, undoing the paracord holding her hair to her ankles. The release felt good and eased her body. She pushed her rump into the air. Justin took this as a cue and placed first one, then two fingers inside her quim, slowly driving his brutish digits in and out. Wenda let full, loud groans of gratification go freely as the minutes trickled by. Her body went limp when she got her fill. She fell asleep as Justin undid the locks and buckles.

Later, his tools repacked, Justin draped a fleece blanket over Wenda, and left a bottle of gin he found in her pantry on the pony wall before he left. Later at dusk, Wenda awoke to a text from her fiancé. Aston’s flight was delayed for weather, and he got bumped to another route. He’d be two days late. She stared at it, contemplating before she showered and dressed for Becky’s. Seeing the bottle of gin, she thought about the texts and emails as she very slowly removed her engagement ring. Resolving to break it off with Aston, there would be a difficult discussion to be had when he arrived. She set the ring down and picked up the bottle, heading for their usual nightcap. She smiled as she thought about her day. The cool in the air caressed her as she reminisced about how different the cul-de-sac looked concealed inside the work bag.

Later in the evening after lively discussion and a few rounds between friends, Wenda cunningly exclaimed, “My, what a beautiful painting! Is it new?”

Becky was caught off-guard and craned around to the landing. “Y-yes dear. I just had it mounted today.”

With a wily smile, “It does look rather well hung.” Wenda knowingly allowed the same pronounced sigh that nearly gave her away earlier in the day to issue as she looked on somewhat provocatively at the painting. Becky’s eyebrows arched in telling revelation. “…But, don’t you think it would look a bit better to the right?”

There was a long pause as Becky narrowed her eyes on Wenda, a devilish grin on her lips as she sipped her drink. “Perhaps. When placing a piece, you have to be careful. Art shouldn’t be obvious or… hidden away. Should it?”

“I suppose you're right. The perspective should be… restrained but limber… regarding where it's viewed from. After all, even a private showing can still be quietly admired by another, if only briefly.”

They continued to knowingly smile at each other as they sipped their drinks. Paula, Jenny, and Linda were baffled regarding their art placement critiques, chalking it up to a touch too much gin in the Bramble.


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