As the only woman on a mostly male crew of plumbers, I suffer a lot of nonsense.  My days are filled with snarky responses to comments made by men.  You may have guessed by this that I’m a bit of a tomboy.  I mean, what sort of woman signs up to be a plumber?  It isn’t exactly the most feminine vocation.  The bottom line is that my father was a plumber and I learned the business early in life as his unpaid apprentice.  When other girls went off to school, I decided I wanted to excel at what I already knew and went to a vocational school, instead.  Now, I’m one of the best master plumbers in my area and the surrounding states.

Recently, I decided that it was time for a change.  I know it will seem weird to a lot of you, but the change didn’t involve leaving the plumbing vocation.  What it did include was opening my own plumbing company.  My first order of business was to employ an accountant.  I selected one based on the personal recommendations of some other local businessmen that I respected and showed up for my appointment right on time.

“You are very prompt.  I like that in a plumber,” he joked.  I laughed a little and introduced myself.

Right off the bat, I found him appealing.  He had the most incredible blue eyes and long fingers that clicked provocatively on a nearby adding machine as he worked through numbers with me at his desk.  I almost found it too distracting to listen to what he was saying having his fingers moving so fluidly across the keys.  Men’s hands and especially fingers have always been a passion of mine.

I could tell that he was not completely impervious to my presence either from the way his eyes were drawn to my body and quickly diverted elsewhere as he realized he was staring.  We were finishing up when he unexpectedly asked if he could call me sometime.  It wasn’t that I didn’t realize he was interested, but I didn’t expect him to want to mix business and pleasure.

“I would hope you are going to call me.  I just hired you as my accountant,” I said, falling into my usual sarcastic behavior.

“I’m sorry.  I meant on a social level,” he said evenly, quickly realizing he was not handling a kitten and couldn’t afford to come off as weak.  His eyes met mine in the most intensely fuckable gaze that I’ve ever encountered.  I wanted to pounce on him right there in his office.  Instead, I let him take the lead.

“I’d love that.  You have my number,” I replied, flashing him an encouraging smile.

“I certainly do,” he told me, leading me to believe that he was picking up on much more than just our verbal communications.  I was getting into my car in the parking lot when he called.

“Did I forget something?” I said when I realized it was him.

“No.  I wanted to know if you would like to come over to my place for dinner tonight,” he said.

“Wow, you don’t waste any time, do you?” I said, a little excited and maybe a little concerned.

“I don’t.  Time is money.  I never lose money.  Likewise, I don’t waste time,” he said, chuckling a little.

“Sounds great.  Just text me the address and a list of what you’d like me to bring,” I replied, cutting the conversation short.  Sometimes, it is best not to say too much and this felt like one of those times.  I received a text a few seconds later with his home address and a note that said simply “bring chocolate, your choice.”

Hours later, we shared a wonderful grilled salmon and salad dinner before moving on to dessert, which consisted of stripping me naked, tossing me onto the kitchen table and slipping slivers of chocolate inside my warm center.  He took his time enjoying the creamy taste of me mixed with the sweet chocolate and then offered me some from his fingers and lips.  I gasped as he slipped inside of me and made love to me in slow, deep strokes that were as delicious as the taste on his lips.  After a very messy session of passion, we ended up in his shower, where he took his time cleaning me thoroughly.

Lying in his bed afterwards, he rolled over and propped up on his elbow, tracing one of his beautiful fingers across my breasts and down my stomach.  Smiling down at me, he kissed me softly.

“I’ll bill you for my time,” he said.

“Honey, I’d pay that bill,” I replied with a laugh, pouncing on him for yet another round of sex that proves accountants aren’t really so boring at all.

~Elayna T.
Augusta, GA