Honey Do This And That Ch 01

Honey do...

2,522 words

10-minute read

All people are over eighteen years old.

I need feedback if I should write sequels, score this one, and review all comments.

I spent from 1978 to 1999 as a" Honey do this, Honey do that..." home repairman in a major city in a major state. You figure out where. Some of the Honey Do... tales are fiction, but every idea has to have a spark, so imagine the sparks flying at the beginning of the story if you are a fiction vs. nonfiction reader. The business eventually led me to a divorce, and that was the best way to keep us both alive. I couldn't live with her drinking, and she couldn't take my not accepting her drinking.

There was Ellen. She was a State attorney, single, with a major law school degree, working for the Governor's office. She appeared rail thin, gaunt, and frail. She was not attractive. She was a runner and a yoga practitioner, teaching classes in her basement on a small scale. She told me she did it so she would have friends, like some ladies do, to connect with new friends.

When I became her home repairman, I could understand her need to do that. She was not good at managing day-to-day routines. When she first had me give her an estimate, I was very thorough and explained everything in detail. However, she did not understand any of what I explained.

When I finally thought I had her informed, she said, "Dale, I don't need to know any of that. I just want the fucking thing to do its job when I flip the switch. I did understand that it is fixable, and that is what I want. Tell me how much it will cost; I will write a check, give you a key to the house, and expect the switch to respond next time I flip it."

I got up from the kitchen table, gathered my paperwork, and said," Ellen, if you want to leave a list of any other things that I can write you an estimate to do, I will be happy to work up prices. Is tomorrow a good time for me to schedule your repairs?"

"I prefer to get paid after the work is done. Then, you can test it to be sure I did what you requested."

"Oh, by the way, how did you know about my business?"

"I was at La Mex, and your wife gave me your telephone number. I heard the three guys she was with saying that you do not do 'Honey do' at home, so they do it, but that I would be happy with your work."

Ellen gave me the house key, showed me how to set the alarm, and said there was no security camera set up to turn on or off. She'd had one but couldn't get it to set up properly.

I added it to the list she'd made of additional things to get prices for.

When I arrived at eight o'clock the next morning, Ellen was already gone, so I backed my pick-up into the driveway, looked at the supplies I'd stopped to get, and decided to tackle the electrical list first. I replaced one breaker, three light switches with dimmers, and one table lamp base from one-way to three-way. All of that went smoothly.

Then it was to the plumbing issues. I replaced the sprayer hose on the Delta kitchen sink faucet. I replaced the shower head with a shower on a bar so she could have it handheld or locked in a position to massage a particular muscle or sore spot.

I replaced the toilet seat so it was snuggly fixed to the toilet and matched the porcelain color. I also hung three towel bars she had purchased. According to the receipt in the bag with the towel bars, she had those towel bars for nearly two years.

I cleared the hair from the tub drain and the lavatory sink, then re-caulked the tub and all the bathroom counters.

The bathroom floor linoleum was curled at the edge of her bedroom, so I heated it, pressed it back flat, and measured it for replacement. I then cleaned the bathroom from top to bottom, wall to wall. The tub was scummy, and the shower was streaked with scale from the old leaking shower head. The toilet had a permanent brown water ring. All my cleaning removed all of those things. I added a price for two colors of paint in the bathroom to the list of additional projects.

I left about 1:30 after cleaning any messes I started.

The telephone rang once at 9:55 and then stopped. About an hour later, it rang again, waking me.

A drunk was on the other end of the phone. I almost hung up on them, and then I remembered Ellen's Georgia twang and knew the call was from Ellen. She was waxing eloquently about the stud that roamed unleashed in her bedroom, bathroom, and closet, probably feeling her scantiest of scanties, sniffing her dry thong from her run yesterday, trying on her panties, and licking her vibrator. Or worse, jacking off on her stuff.

Then the line went dead. She'd hung up.

I rolled over and bumped into my wife. She moaned" Gregg" twice, grabbed my cock, bent over under the blankets, and gave me a blow job. When she finished, she said, "How can three men fit into one woman? Airtight, that's how. What fun." And she was back to sleep.

But now I was awake. Wide fucking awake.

1. A drunken customer called and hung up.

2. My wife called another man's name.

3. And three men were at a table just before my wife talked about airtight.

Yep, I was wide awake.

I slid out of bed and went downstairs to the office (our fourth bedroom). After waiting for the computer to boot up, I googled Ellen.

Sterling's report and transcript were better than usual. They related her family life as a kid was shit. Friends were not listed anywhere. I decided that there was more to Ellen than I could guess.

In the morning, I called Ellen and asked her to meet me to compare the prices for her list of repairs. She agreed to one fifteen at Gwennie's.

When I arrived, Ellen had a table in the small room, back in the corner, where we could remain unseen by the majority of Gwennie's patrons. She was sitting facing the wall, less visible than the other bench seat where I sat. Ellen seemed uncomfortable, so I asked, "Would you rather meet later, someplace else, or what?"

"What I have to tell you is embarrassing, Dale, and I don't want anyone to interrupt me. I was so pleased with what you did at my house that I decided to have a glass of wine to celebrate. I wound up in bed with the empty wine bottle in my vagina. Then, I called you!"

"Then I hung up after one ring."

"I went to get another bottle of wine and saw that you had cleaned the kitchen sink and counters, as well as the tub, toilet, and vanity sink. I love the shower head--like, really, true love. I am also going to replace the water heater to a larger capacity."

"What I want to say is I do not need any prices from you; I need you to consider fixing all of the things that we can find that need attention. I want you to consider moving in with me so we can get through this mess I call my home. If you leave each day, hundreds of work hours are lost, moving in and out every day. If you move in for a week or so, or however long you say, I can get my home back in shape to the point where I will want to be home instead of at work."

My response was delayed because I was flummoxed and absolutely unprepared for her proposal.

Ellen's timing could not have been better because that morning, my wife asked me to get her suitcases out of the garage so she could pack them. She had an apartment rented and was moving out on a trial basis.

So, although bad luck and injuries come in threes, that was only two when number three showed up.

I Smelled a gas leak in the kitchen at home, so when I found it, it was inside a wall and would have to be vented, tested, and untagged before I could attempt to repair it. The house could not be lived, slept, or used because the leak might not dissipate adequately for human occupation. There was an additional explosion risk with natural gas.

So, after sending my soon-to-be ex-wife away to an apartment, I packed my stuff and threw it in the truck, not knowing where I would be spending the night. I still had a house key, so I knew I could go back to get anything I forgot.

As I left, I headed for Ellen's home, thinking about my options, and decided that with the right agreements, I could spend three weeks repairing her house for her to relax in again.

We talked over coffee on her back deck, swatting flys and mosquitoes. I added screening on the porch to the list. We negotiated four weeks as the minimum I would need to complete everything and be gone. Ellen wrote me a check for ten thousand dollars; I endorsed it, slid it back across the table, and said,

"I prefer to get paid after the work is done. Then, you can test it to be sure I did what you requested."

Ellen responded," I think I heard those exact words recently, and then I didn't understand the real message, and now I do, so I agree. The furniture company will be here in an hour to remove some of the furniture, so you won't have to fight the problem of constantly moving things out of the way."

I dropped off my things in the garage and headed to the big-box hardware store, where I picked up supplies to repair Ellen's screened-in porch, which was the highest priority.

When I returned to the house, the furniture truck had just been closed and was driving away as I backed into the driveway.

Ellen left moments later with a surprise light kiss on the lips and a massage of her breasts against my T-shirt. I was surprised by the casualness of the goodbye. It was like something my wife would have done five years ago. No, probably eight or ten years ago.

I carried the supplies around to the deck and spent the entire day stringing the bug screen around her deck and sealing the cracks with caulk and trim molding. It was 6 pm when I climbed down from the ladder thinking the job was complete.

A shower felt good. It was great to leave the tools out and the equipment ready for an early morning start. I intended to get the hot tub working in the morning and the sunbed assembled in the afternoon.

I put on Chinos and a T-shirt and went to look over the hot tub project for the morning. I found a relay under one of the valves that had tripped and jammed. I looked in my truck and found an old one that I had salvaged from another job. I plugged it in, turned on the tub control panel, and found that the tub was now fixed.

I figured out how to fill the tub and light the burner. I checked the filter, and when enough water was present, I started the pump to circulate the water through the boiler.

The water from the house was about forty-three degrees, and the tub was pleasant at one hundred-three to five. I figured that in two hours, we would have a usable temperature for a soak tonight.

It was six o'clock, and having only been on the job for one day, I was already half a day ahead of schedule. As I looked at the list for tomorrow's project, I suspected the record would fall, not improve. Maybe Ellen could prioritize for me.

In the refrigerator, I found all the fixings for steak and green salad. I found potatoes and called Ellen.

"Can I start dinner for us? I found everything I need." I asked.

"Aren't you a darling? I like this arrangement already. Yes, I will be there in about forty-five minutes."

"You have a rain check for a thank you kiss." She added.

"Okay." I choked out, swallowing my surprise.

I planned backward for an hour and thirty minutes to plate the meal. The bakers had time for the oven so that the salad could be next. I placed the steaks on the granite countertop to warm. I dried off the steaks, added salt and pepper on both sides and unwrapped the butter cube. I diced fresh garlic and shallot, and I had the cognac ready. I pulled a 14-inch skillet from the back of a cupboard when I discovered the fuel tank for the BBQ was empty, so I used her cooktop.

The meal worked out on time, and the wine she opened was perfect, as was the second bottle. The second bottle revived her memory of the thank you kiss that she had rain-checked.

Dale was looking at the hot tub control panel when she remembered. When she reminded him of the kiss, he swept her off her feet and kissed her like the sailor on LIFE Magazine's cover.

She kissed him back.

He gently set her down, and they kissed again. The kissing led to Ellen, under the influence of two bottles of wine, becoming a cock sucker that would not quit. She was not a first-time participant; Dale was sure because she sucked him off in about thirty seconds. And, before he realized it, she was snow-balling his come with him.

Ellen said, "I love come, Dale; I hope your wife is into sharing you. She sure was all over those guys at La Mex."

Dale, not to be outdone, said, "It doesn't matter; she moved out."

Their sexual connection had been brewing during the evening. After Ellen's snowballing move, he stood from their chairs, lifted her onto her patio table with the glass top, and sat back into a chair. Together they spread her legs to the ends of the six-foot oval table; then Dale sucked her cunt nearly inside out, giving her an uncountable number of orgasms. Loudly complaining the whole time about how the good guys were all taken and that she hoped to do this again and again.

It was when he stood, and leaned his cock into her that the table collapsed, shattering the glass top. After they had untangled themselves, they went into the bedroom and fucked and played until Dale couldn't get hard again.

Then, naked, they ate steak dinner at 3:30 am on the screened-in patio, using a piece of plywood across two saw horses.

The broken patio table he would need to add to the list of things to replace.