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From: artie@netgate.net (artie)
Subject: Story: "Carpet Laid (1M)" (MF, mc)
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³Carpet Laid² (1M)
Written 09/97 by artie - comments and constructive criticism welcome
(C) Copyright 1997, All Rights Reserved

Authorıs note: Iıve posted two versions of this story, identified as (1F)
and (1M). They are not part 1 and part 2, but rather represent the first
person female, and the first person male forms. If Iım ever satisfied with
it, I may post the third person version, but donıt hold your breath.

This is a work of fiction, meant for adults. If you are not an adult, or
are offended by stories with sexual content, read something else. Likewise,
if all youıre looking for is in-out, in-out, in-out, you should probably
read something else.

   *

It was my last installation of the day, of the week. The previous job
hadnıt quite been the carpet installation from hell, but it was close. (The
installation from hell was the one where I ripped the carpet out of a
rental house and got covered in what I thought were fleas; I was wrong-
crabs. Cost me a girlfriend.)

Experience had taught me to review the work with the person that placed the
order before I start hauling materials in or out of a job. The client at
this last order had insisted this wasnıt what she ordered. After she had a
quick somewhat psychotic conversation with our salesman, he and I decided
that I wasnıt trained to solve this womanıs problem, so I got the hell out
of there as quickly and quietly as I could.

Back in the truck, I called to see if I could start early on my next job. A
wonderful, melodious voice answered; she told me it would be no problem, I
could get started right away.

It took me about fifteen minutes to get to her house; a new place in an
up-and-coming neighborhood. Good looking house. My job, of course, was in
an upstairs room, installing one of the best (and heaviest) wool carpets we
carried, on the floor and parts of the walls in one room. Iıd done similar
jobs- this would be a very quiet room. I was hoping for a wide staircase at
least.

As I walked up to the door carrying my sample and the order sheet, I could
see piles of boxes through the windows; typical moving in chaos.

I rang the bell. The door opened. So did my mouth- I was stunned. Even
though she was wearing sweats and her dark brown hair was up in back, she
was gorgeous. About five foot ten, incredible curves, long legs, and
incredible sparkling green eyes.

   ŒHi, Jeff? Iım Elaine. Come on in, please excuse the boxes.² She took my
hand and pulled me in the door.

   I sort of held out the order and sample, and tried unsuccessfully to get
my mouth to make noises.

   She took the sample from me, brushing my hand in the process and adding
to my confusion. ³This is going to look great- come on up stairs, Iıll show
you where itıs going.²

   She took off up the stairs, I followed, enjoying the view, trying to
figure out how to talk again. I tried thinking business- nice wide hips, um
staircase. The room was right off the stairs- a straight shot, no problem.
It was clean, so my prep work would be minimized. There were marks on the
walls to show how far up the carpet should go. Chair rail height under some
windows and on the wall with the door, full coverage on one wall, the other
wall being mirrored closet doors. She described what she wanted to me. By
the time she finished talking, I got my mouth to work well enough to say
³OK, Iıll get started.²

   I hauled up my tools, pad, and carpet; there was plenty of room in the
hall. I started by measuring to room to see if it was square- youıd be
surprised how bad most new construction is. I was impressed- this place was
well built. ³Wow² I said out loud.

   Her voice came from out in the hall ³What? Something interesting?² She
stuck her head in the door.

   I told her that the builders had done a superb job; the room was square,
which I was finding to be the exception rather than the rule with recent
construction.

   ³Gee, you can talk!²

   I guess I turned red; I didnıt know how to respond to that. She just
laughed, walked over to me and put a hand on my arm. ³Iım sorry, I know I
do that to people some time. Itıs just that when you first came in, you
sounded like, well, a carpet installer.²

   It was my turn to laugh. I told her I was a college grad, working on my
MBA; my uncle owned the chain sheıd bought the carpet from. He was helping
me through school. During the summers I did installation work because I
liked it; during the school year I worked with him on the thinking side of
the business. She told me she was glad I could talk again.

   For some reason I asked her if she minded if I worked in my T-shirt. She
told me to go right ahead.

   Good construction makes life so much easier. I also felt like I had
extra time to spend. I did the walls first, and even did chair rail height
strips on the sides of the closet doors and a narrow strip behind the door,
just to make it look polished. I was hoping sheıd like that- I knew Iıd do
anything to please her.

   I was just setting the last edge on the floor piece when I heard her
behind me. ³This looks great!² I turned to see her running a hand over the
strip by the closet doors. I was smiling. She closed the door a little and
looked behind it. ³Wonderful! Youıre terrific!²

   Hearing her, I certainly felt that way. Then I gave the stretching tool
one more whack with my knee and felt my back go haywire. I must have
grimaced in pain; I know I put a hand on my back. She rushed over to me.

   ³Your back hurt?² I nodded. She pulled me to the middle of the room.
³Lay on your tummy.², she said as she pushed me down. I felt her hands on
my back, searching. I was in too much pain to enjoy it.

   She pressed gently; I guess I must have gasped. ³Right there?²

   I tried to nod.

   She said ³Youıve got a muscle spasm, but I can take care of it. I want
you to take a deep breath.²

   I took a deep breath and it hurt more.

   ³No, not so fast; take a slow, deep breath for me now, and hold it.²

Her voice had changed; it was softer. I took a slow, deep breath- the pain
didnıt get worse this time.

³Now exhale, slowly.²

I exhaled, and as I did, she pressed on my back. I could feel the muscles
loosening up.

³Good, another slow, deep breath, and exhale.²

I did it again, and as I exhaled, she pressed on my back. I could feel it
getting better.

³Here², she said, and she grabbed a couple pieces of rubber padding, folded
them, and put them under my shoulders so my head was more or less straight,
not turned to the side as it had been.

Then she told me to just relax and breathe deeply, and she started
massaging my back. She told me to just relax, feel her hands taking the
tension out of my muscles, feel myself relaxing with each breath. Her voice
was so soft, so soothing. At some point she told me to start counting
backwards from 100. It seemed to be a good idea. I donıt remember if she
suggested that I close my eyes or not; after a while it wasnıt important to
keep them open, and I donıt think I could have if I had wanted to. Her
voice and her hands were so relaxing, so soothing.

I was feeling so relaxed; her voice was somehow distant, but still clear.
Somehow my T-shirt came off, and I felt something cool being put on my
back, and then her hands were back massaging me and her voice was carrying
me to a wonderful place. When she started massaging my feet and legs, it
felt wonderful; I donıt remember my shoes and pants coming off. Her voice
and hands were the only things in the world to me. So relaxed, so pleasant.

And I remember being on my back, somewhat awake. She was sitting lightly on
top of me. Her hair was down; it was long and beautiful. She was only
wearing a bra and panties. I started to say something. She spoke and the
world whirled away again, back to that peaceful place.

I remember making love, her on top of me, her hands and her voice speaking
to my body, sensations Iıd never known before. I remember her moans, and
mine, and feeling her climax and her passionate kiss push me over the edge.

I remember being in another room, on a bed. I remember being on top of her,
looking into her eyes, and saying, pleading, praying ³Elaine, please keep
me.² I remember her smile, her passionate kiss, being wrapped in her arms,
her legs, lost in her eyes, her hair, her scent as we made love again.

I remember her laughter as I was on my back, exhausted and still dizzy, as
she started making love to me with her breasts, exciting me again, and
talking to my body with her hands and voice, riding us both once more to
ecstasy.

I remember looking into her beautiful green eyes, the sweat on her brow,
her kiss and the smell of perfume in her hair, and her saying softly
³Sleep...² and the world fading away as she kissed me once again.

And the next morning I remember waking next to her, seeing her looking at
me, and asking once more ³Please keep me.²

And I will always remember her saying ³Donıt worry; Iıll keep you- forever.²

That was weeks ago now. Weıre living together. I know now she hypnotized me
that first day, but I donıt care; she can do it whenever she wants, and I
sometimes ask her. Next week weıre going to New Mexico to a five day long
massage workshop. I told her I wanted to learn to do for her what she does
for me; I think I surprised her. Next week I hope to surprise her even
more- I pick up the ring on Thursday, and some time next week Iıll ask her
to marry me.

I pray to God she says yes.

END

artie

-- 
artie

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