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So I’m sitting in this 24 hour donut shop one morning, early, while it’s still dark out, because I can’t sleep and it’s the only thing open. This is in the days before there was a Starbucks every block. I have my coffee, thin and black and already starting to give me a buzz, and a chocolate cake donut with frosting and sprinkles. It’s crisp and sweet and greasy and tastes fabulous, and then the coffee is a perfect bitter accompaniment. It’s raining a little outside, and the streets are wet, and beyond my reflection in the big glass window I see the smears of color on the pavement from the streetlamps and the lit-up shop sign.

These guys at the booth next to mine are talking about their jobs, and after a while I start to listen. One of them says something about a "male adaptor" and then a "nipple," which catches my attention. He goes on, and it sounds like he’s talking about sex, but obviously he’s not, and at last I figure out that he’s some kind of plumber talking about putting in a hot water pump.

That is so not what I expected that I can’t help turning around to look at him. He stares right back at me. We’ve never seen each other before, but in that instant we know. He’s young, and well-built, with dark hair. Construction worker maybe, but plumber? All my stereotypes go flying out the window.

I finish my donut in a hurry and walk over to the trashcan to throw away the napkin. He stands up too and we manage to bump into each other. It’s an electric shock.

"Sorry," he says.

"Excuse me," I say, and wonder if this is going to be the end of it. I look at his left hand. He’s not wearing a ring. I’m starting to wish I’d worn tighter clothes. "Coffee sometime?" I blurt out.

"Meet me here at 5," he says. Then he turns around and he’s out the door and I’m wondering what I’ve just done. He doesn’t show a plumber’s crack.

I’m there at 5, still too shy to wear anything obviously sexy, but I have a lace bra on under my t-shirt. He shows up a few minutes later and we order coffee and sit down and drink and talk a little about ourselves. Nothing big, but we really hit it off. When we finish our coffee he says, "Want to come over to my place for some dinner?"

I feel like I’m taking a risk. What if he’s some kind of psycho? But I say yes. We get in his truck and he drives me to his apartment a few blocks away. I could walk home if I had to, which is a relief.

His apartment’s pretty spare, and hot because it’s the second floor of a converted house. There’s a deck, though, and we order a pizza, then go outside with cold beers to wait for it, and talk some more. The pizza comes, we eat it on the deck, then we go back in. He turns on the ceiling fan.

We sit down together on the floor beside the old wide flat coffee table that he got from a garage sale or relative. We are through basic family and school and background stuff by now, so I say, "What can you tell me about a pump? What’s in them, really?

"Depends on the type," he says. "Packing and gaskets and valves. An impeller shaft. Bearings. Packing glands."

"An impeller shaft," I say.

He leans over and kisses me, his tongue deep in my mouth, then out, in, then out. I kiss him back. His hand comes up under my t-shirt and rubs my back. I twist a little to be closer.

"Like that," he says at last.

"I think I need you to check my packing glands," I say. "I’m not sure they’re working."

"I think they are," he says. "Maybe they need a lube, though." His hand comes around the front and finds my bra. Gently, he squeezes my nipple through the lace. My mouth comes open in a little "ahh," and I kiss him again, hard. I lean forward so that my breast falls into the cup of his hand. His other hand comes under my shirt and finds my other breast, squeezing hard.

I push my tongue further into him. His teeth are hard against my lips, and his mouth still tastes like pizza and beer. It’s heady. I close my eyes and feel my underwear getting wet. My hands go down to his jeans.

I fumble with the button and the zipper. He stops kissing me and leans back and I pull his pants off and then he pulls mine off, and we lie on top of each other, just pushing through our clothing. I get hot and sit up and take off my shirt.

He kissed my cheek, my ear, then down my neck to my shoulder. I am tingling everywhere. I want to touch him but I can’t move. His mouth comes to the edge of my bra and he slides his tongue under the lace and licks the nipple. I reach behind to undo the clasp, but he says, "No." Then he pushes the cup aside with his tongue. The strap falls, and he takes my breast into his mouth, as deep as he can. My other nipple is going crazy, wanting to get out from behind the lace, but he presses hard with his hand and it makes a shiver run all the way down my belly.

I manage to move my hand and touch his penis, which is very hard against his underwear. I pop it out. We shift positions and I rub his penis up and down my belly, teasingly going higher then back down, again and again, until it is between my breasts. I tickle them with it. Some warm fluid comes out and I know he is almost ready. I move down and swallow him as far as I can, then move my head back and forth, back and forth. He groans a little.

I want to make it last, so I don’t do that for too long. When I stop he pulls my panties off and pulls me onto him. I am sitting on his chest, which is all muscle. I throw my head back and he reaches up for my breasts and undoes the bra at last. Then he pulls me down and bites my nipple.

It’s almost more than I can stand. I sit up. He pulls me forward, then kisses me between my legs, his hot tongue pushing into me, tickling, teasing. I shiver again. The soles of my feet are burning. I almost come but manage to hold off.

Then I slide back down. He puts a finger on his chest and dabs it in the moisture I left behind, slowly puts it in his mouth and licks it. I hold my beasts with my own hands and squeeze them. I move down and feel his penis hard against my rear, and I lift up. He pushes into me.

Up and down, up and down. I am so wet that I am not sure he will stay in me, but he does. I put my hand on his balls and feel his pulse. I slip off and tease my clit against his head, then take him back in and push myself down hard.

We come together, shuddering and moaning, then lie there for a while, quiet.

At last I roll off, feeling sweaty and hot and cold at the same time. The fan is blowing air on me, and I grab my t-shirt and put it on. He strokes my thigh.

"Fun?" he says.

"Yes," I say.

"Good," he says, and kisses me again. "Anything else you want to know about pumps?'

Copyright © 2005 Julia Ross. All rights reserved. Do not copy or post.

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