It was after midnight when the handyman left his apartment on the bottom floor of the tri-story building he was in charge of servicing. The whiny lawyer wannabe from one of the third floor apartments had left him a rather urgent and scathing message about a leak in the bathroom sink of the master bedroom. Insisting that it couldn't wait until morning. Insisting that the rent paid, paid the handyman's salary. Insisting how the handyman had to do what he said and because he was a tenant and that was that. He demanded that the handyman go fix it now.
That whiny little fuck, fuck him. Why couldn't that little shit let it wait til morning? No one else is bitching about it so it's obviously nothing serious. Fuck it, whatever man.
He thought to himself, starting the climb up three flights of stairs.
It wasn't much of a problem for a 34 year old man. He kept himself in decent shape. Thick bodied, a balance of fat and muscle for his 6'2" 200lbs frame. His heavy black boots thumping up the steps, he kept looking down at where he was walking, avoiding having to look at the sickly yellow shade of paint the landlord insisted on using for the hallways. It made him as sick as the cheap grey carpet the landlord wanted on the hallway floors. The graffiti sprayed across the stairwells and stains on the carpet were an improvement in the handyman's eyes.
Stomping up three flights, lugging his toolbox in his right hand. A heavy tool belt around the waist of his navy blue overalls weighing on him, not improving his mood about the call. Stopping at apartment 37, he sighs softly. His big, black hand rapping three times on the white aluminum door, rubbing a hand over his bald as he waits.
Tired with waiting after a few minutes he takes the keyring off of his belt and thumbs through the keys. Finding the one he needs, he unlocks the door and lets himself into the dark apartment. Walking through the apartment towards the master bedroom. Walking down the hall he catches the faint sounds of someone talking, followed by soft moaning, like someone is watching porn in a closed room. Coming to a slightly open door, the handyman peeks inside. Spying a slim, young looking, naked Asian girl spread eagle in front of a laptop. One hand pushing through her long, silky, black hair. Holding it from her face as she moans and whimpers softly, talking to the ten or so faces of men on her computer screen. Firm B-cup breasts topped with dark, little, eraser-head nipples heaving as she masturbates, working her other hand between her legs. Her hips bucking and rocking forward, ass squeaking against the obviously wet black faux leather office chair as she finger-fucked herself for the men watching.
"Mmmmmmm god that feels so fucking good. I love fingers in my pussy. Do you guys like watching me?"
She mews out for the men, adding a giggle and a moan at the end of the question. The screen pinging over and over with responses that make her giggle more. The soft, wet sounds of her fingers sliding in and out of her hole filling the silence between giggles, moans, and pings.
"That's right Jimmy, watch me baby. Robbie69, look at my pussy, do you see how wet it is for you? Mmmm yes Daddy John, I wish I could be a good girl and suck your cock for you too. I want to swallow your cum, daddy. I want to swallow everyone's cum, mmmmm!"
Dumbfounded, the handyman just stood there watching. Unable to look away from this little Asian beauty, fingering herself. Shocked that she was exposing herself to all those men online, and finding it an incredible turn-on that she had no idea she was exposing herself to him too.
Please be eighteen, please be eighteen. Fuck, god, please be eighteen!
Was the only thought in his head as he rubbed the growing bulge in his coveralls while watching this petite girl get off. Kneeling to set his tool box down, nudging the door a little and pushing it open a few inches. The creak of the hinges lost in the sounds of wet pussy and soft moans of self-pleasure coming from the girl in the chair.
Her moans coming more frequent, the wet sounds, like someone stirring macaroni coming faster and louder. Her hips bucking up, her small frame squirming in the chair, her orgasm building faster and faster. Closer to exploding through her body. If not for the handyman bumping his head against the door as I leaned in to get a closer look. Hand rubbing harder at his crotch, holding his breath so she wouldn't hear him practically panting with lust while watching her. The door creaking 6 inches farther, exposing him in the doorway to the cam built into her laptop.
Within seconds multiple messages pinging on her computer, telling her to turn around. She freezes in her chair, two of her slim fingers buried knuckle deep in her dripping pussy. Using one of her feet to push off from her desk and swivels the chair around, giving a shriek upon seeing the lurking black stranger in the doorway. Jumping back in the chair, yanking her fingers out of her pussy and snapping her legs closed, covering her breasts with her hands.
"EEEEEEEEKKKKK, WHO THE HELL ARE YOU? GET OUT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"
"Whoa, whoa! Calm down girlie, I'm sorry. You're boyfriend left a message, told me your sink was leaking in the master bath. I didn't know anyone was here, I didn't see anything!"
One hand held up in front of him, warding her off as well as showing that he's not holding any kind of weapon. Though obviously lying about not seeing anything, with his other hand still grasping the sizable lump of cock outlined in his overalls.
"Ed--Edward sent you? He didn't tell me you were stopping by. You're a handyman? You've come...to fix a leak?"
She stammers, nervous as she looks the handyman up and down. His tool box at this feet, his tool belt fastened around his waist. Coveralls unzipped halfway down his chest, showing a bright white shirt underneath. Her arms relaxing slightly as she hears her laptop pinging again with messages. Daring a glance over her shoulder at the screen, she turns her chair halfway back to the computer.
"Guys, no. I can't do that. No, I can't. I have a boyfriend, what would he think?"
She says out-loud, a little giggle at the end, as she relaxes more, glancing between the big black stranger still in the doorway and back at the computer screen.
"What's wrong? What are they saying?"
Ask the handyman, craning his head to see the computer as well as trying to see her naked bits.
"Mr. Handyman, they...well, they want...umm...they want me to..."
She stammers as a messages pops up on her screen, bigger than the rest.
Johnny-Daddy-007:
WE WANT YOU TO FUCK HER!!
Robbie69:
YEAH MAN FUCK THAT SLUT!