A Lesson in Manners

[gduke]

Marion came home from work, feeling somewhat restless. Her keys clinked into the glass dish by the door and she slipped off her heels by the brass and bent oak coat rack. She stepped lightly up the stairs to the second floor of her townhouse, her stockinged feet pressing into the deep pile of the oriental runner. This would be a quiet Friday night with a book, soft music, and her cat curled in her lap.

She had been single for a few months now, and while she certainly wasn't ready for another relationship, she was beginning to miss the sex. Still, it was a relief not feeling she had to be looking for someone. Her beauty and intellect made her a prize and no potential suitors had measured up. Her manners toward men who seemed interested had gone from flirtatious to disrespectful. Very disrespectful.

She had only just settled in and found her next chapter when the bell rang. "Oh, bloody hell," she muttered. "I guess he's back."

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A few days before the handle on her bathroom sink had come off in her hand, sending water shooting to the ceiling, making a terrible mess. She called the landlord whose promise of immediate action came in the form of a new handyman. He arrived within an hour as she was nearly ready to leave for work.

He was tall, handsome, dressed neatly in work clothes, and carried a handmade tool box. She had responded to his smiling "Hi, I'm Nate" by telling him that she was in a hurry and that the bathroom was upstairs. Nice to look at, but clearly beneath her station.
He was on his way up when she called to him "I'm going to work. The key is in the dish. Lock up and throw the key through the mail slot when you're done." His brow furrowed angrily as he climbed the last step.

When she returned home she found the key taped to a note: "Ms. Morris, I fixed your faucet with a mismatched handle, since it was all I could get today. I'll come back when I have the new part and I'll fix the wallpaper, too."
Upon checking she saw that the wallpaper over the sink was peeling, and there was an ugly stain on the ceiling. "I guess he's coming back," she fretted. She then paused for a moment to think about the smile he had flashed her, and his hair.

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In the days passed she stopped worrying about the bathroom and forgotten about Nate, but now he was at her door again. She swung the door open and he was startled to see her in yoga pants and a tight top with no panties or bra. She rolled her eyes at his friendly greeting when he asked if he could work on the faucet.

"Yeah, Ned. Come in."

"It's Nate," he corrected.

"Whatever," she replied.

He tried in vain to break the ice with her, asking what she did, telling her he was a student, etc., but nothing worked. Initially, her playing hard to get was interesting, but now she was just being a bitch. He had spent the last two days thinking about her. She had his favorite body type and his cock started getting hard as he examined her form from behind. Her wide-ish hips had just enough fat on them to give her pleasingly soft contours. She had a narrow waist and medium-sized tits that sagged just a bit. Her soft, full lips and big eyes were explicitly sexual, even when she was focused on something else. He knew without touching her what the cool skin of her smooth, naked thigh felt like.

She went to her bedroom and returned in a bathrobe. A hot shower would be wonderful after he was finally gone. Till then she'd read on the couch. She was naked underneath but fully covered and went back to Jane Austen.

"Pretentious cunt," he thought to himself. Nate was pre-med and could have had his parents pay for school, but he had gotten scholarships and was determined to do this on his own. He was working by choice and wasn't used to women looking down on him. He didn't like it one bit.

He had a line of sight at her and kept glancing at her from the bathroom as he struggled with the old faucet. The basin wrench barely grabbed and he was pushing hard when he caught a glance of her shifting in her chair. Her robe fell open, exposing her breast, the wrench broke loose and he skinned his knuckles on the drain pipe.

"Fuck!" he shouted without thinking.

"What?" she called out, startled since she had forgotten he was there..

"Sorry, sorry. I banged up my knuckles," he said apologetically.

"Oh. Well, if you start bleeding, make sure you clean it up."

Now he was furious. "What a self-centered, stuck up whore," he thought.

The faucet was an easy job once the old one came out, and with it done, he turned his attention to the wallpaper. As he climbed up the stepladder, Marion noticed his silhouette against the recessed lights. He was muscular, and as he reached his T-shirt crept up to expose his abdomen. Hard muscle with just a wisp of hair peeking out of his work pants. Her vagina felt itchy so she reached inside her robe for a quick scratch but lingered there a bit too long. "I'll do that after he leaves," she thought.

He was finally focused on his task, but now it was Marion who was distracted. She squirmed anxiously as her pussy got wet. She wished he'd finish up and leave so she could get her vibrator. She even started to consider going to the bar down the street. It was full of rich guys who wanted to hook up.

She heard the clatter of Nate putting away his tools. He was latching the toolbox when she stepped in to inspect his work. She cast her eyes around barely acknowledging his presence and said, "There's still a stain on the ceiling".

"Your landlord has painters for that. I didn't have to do the wallpaper, but I was trying to help you out," He was getting impatient. He thought she might call and complain.

"Well, okay I guess," she said thanklessly. Her tone made him furious.

She turned around and asked, "So that's it?" As she spoke she caught him looking at her chest and shot him a smile of smug satisfaction. She pulled her robe over her cleavage, proud that she had teased him and was making him leave.

"I'm not done yet." His booming, baritone voice hurt her ears and his blue gray eyes burned into her.

She took a step back, he put his hand over her face and pushed her to the floor. She clutched at the robe to keep herself covered and the back of her head hit the rug with a thud. She felt slightly woozy as he grabbed her hair and pulled her to the sofa. She regained her composure and started to scream but his hand clamped over her mouth like a steel plate and she clawed at his forearm in a futile attempt to break free.

In an instant his belt was undone and his pants hit the floor, exposing an absolutely rigid erection. She cried through her nose and tears rolled down her cheeks as he pulled her robe open. Her body was an open expanse of soft flesh with sweet, pink nipples and a smooth pubic mound.

"I knew your pussy was bald when I saw the wax kit in the medicine chest. You're a fucking whore." He licked his lips and reached down to touch her vagina. She tried to block him but put her hands up in surrender when he raised his fist. Sparkling pre-cum leaked out of the head of his cock and landed gently on her naked labia. His cock was throbbing as he spat on his fingers and rubbed them on her opening. He guided the head of his member into her hole and gave a few shallow, gentle thrusts to get himself wet. Then he rammed it home.

Her eyes clamped shut and she screamed through her nose. His cock was thick enough to be a little painful and she felt it hitting her cervix every time he buried it in her. When she opened her eyes he was licking his thumb. As his cock slid in and out of her he rested his fingers on her abdomen and made slow circles on her clit with his thumb. She relaxed and her breathing became slow, deep, and regular.

"Oh, dear," he said mockingly. "You must be so ashamed. You're getting raped, and you like it."

He was right. She was being taken by force and thinking about how wrong it was only made her want it more. Her humiliation was complete when he grabbed her fingers, pulled them down to her clit and said "Now you do it."

She touched her pussy and it was soaking wet. Her fingers found their place and her eyes rolled back in her head. Nate's hand dropped away from her mouth as he focused on fucking her and she breathed more and more heavily. She cupped a breast in her spare hand and twirled a finger around her nipple. Her spine curled as his iron fingers dug into her pelvis, pulling her down onto his rigid cock. She threw her head back and wave after wave of orgasm passed through her. His member erupted, shot seed deep inside her and was still cumming as he pulled out and finished on her stomach.

When the last orgasm left her, she brought her hands up to hide her face in shame.
"No, no, no," Nate said, pulling her hand away. "One more thing."

He pulled her hand down to her stomach and dipped her fingers in his cum. He brought the hand back up to her face and said, "Lick it up, like a good girl."

She looked up sheepishly and did as she was told. His cum was salty and she felt compelled to continue. After she had consumed the last drop she looked into his eyes and said "Okay?"
"Yes, very good, Mary." He said, approvingly.

"It's Marion," she said, softly.

"Whatever."

With that he stood up and dressed himself. His last word still was still stinging her when he laughed and said, "I'll make sure the painter knows what to do when he gets here."

The door banged shut and she wept at knowing what she really was.