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From: jimmy@jimmy-hat.com (Jimmy Hat)
Subject: {ASSM}  Adult Tech (M F, voy, shave, mild cbt) NEW <*>
Date: Sat, 11 Dec 1999 01:10:01 -0500
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This work contains graphic depictions of sex acts.
Please do not continue if this makes you uncomfortable,
or violates laws in your part of the world.

This story is Copyright 1999 by Jimmy Hat (jimmy@jimmy-hat.com)
----------------------------------------------------------------------

ADULT TECH

Intrigued by an advertisement he had just seen in a newspaper,
Gerald Maytag threw a windbreaker over his cable-knit sweater,
tucked his car keys into the front right pocket of his denim
jeans, and braced himself for the autumn gusts outside. Despite
the weather, and his desire to relax and catch up on his reading,
the FBI agent could not resist the urge to investigate. He
stepped in the car and verified the address from the ad.

Parking was usually a problem in Georgetown but he thought his
luck might be better on a Sunday afternoon. He was wrong, and it
was worse than normal, probably because the parking meters were
not demanding the normal tribute.

After circling the block twice, Maytag spied someone pulling out
of their spot. He drove past, put the car in reverse, and parked.
Crisp air and the crunch of leaves greeted him as he stepped out
of the car. Very different sensations of warmth and music greeted
him inside "The G-Town Adult Book Barn". After walking through
the theft prevention scanners, Maytag found himself in the middle
of row upon row of erotic videos.

To his right, a placard read "40 DD +", to his left another
claimed "ALL ANAL". The checkout counter was on the other side of
"GIRL GIRL" and just next to "BLUE ASIA". Maytag wondered if his
supermarket was labeled that accurately.

"Excuse me," he said to the bearded middle-aged man behind the
counter, "I wanted to ask you about your ad in the 'Weekly
Reader'."

"What about it?" came the gruff reply.

"Well, what exactly do you mean by 'Tech Support'?" asked Maytag.

"Just like it says. If you buy your adult toy from G-Town Adult
Book Barn and you're having any kinda problem, you can give the
tech support people a call, and they'll help you out."

"How do you mean, 'help me out'?" asked Maytag.

"We have some things here, like the sling harness and the Sybian
machine, that some people have trouble setting up in their homes.
We get calls all the time. So when these people from Adult Tech
offered to handle the calls, I let them."

"You pay them?" asked Maytag.

A man had stepped up to the counter with a video cassette labeled
"Collegiate Coochie: Volume 8" with a collage of ostensibly
college students cavorting on the cover.

"I can take care of that, sir," said the man behind the counter.
Maytag stepped out of the way. After the man received his change
and walked away, Maytag repeated his question.

"No, you pay for the support. There's a contract you fill out,
then I enter it into a computer they give me, and then you're all
set up."

"You get a cut of the fee, I assume?" asked Maytag.

"What is this, Twenty Questions? Of course I get a cut!"

"I'm sorry, just one more question. What can I get tech support
for?"

"Anything in the store except videos, DVDs, and CD-ROMs."

"Thanks," said Maytag.

At which point Maytag walked away from the counter, past the
labyrinth of chest-high video racks, and on to the wall of adult
toys. The store had a large selection of vibrators, dildos, and
plug-in massagers. They came in diverse colors, jelly models,
stiff plastics, lifelike latex, stylized shapes, molds of porn
stars' actual dicks, and with optional accessory packs of
batteries and lubricant.

Only Maytag was not interested in using any, and doubted if tech
support could change his mind. There were products aimed at men -
molded rubber models of vaginas and mouths to serve as
masturbatory aids. All of them just seemed silly. Especially the
vaginas complete with pubic hair.

Anal beads! If there were ever a product Maytag would need help
in using, it would be anal beads. But for the purposes of
investigating the services of Adult Tech, he thought it better to
keep the work in front of his face.

The vacuum pumps promised an increase in cock size, but the price
was high, and Maytag felt no need to tangle with concepts of
insecurity best left to his subconscious.

Maytag thought he had exhausted his options for investigating the
nature of Adult Tech's business when he spotted the small
rotating glass case. From the outside, it looked no different
from the department store displays that held wristwatches. But
inside, the products on display resembled codpieces more than
timepieces.

There were steel cock rings of various diameters, and some came
in sets of three. White jelly dildos served as model mounts for
leather cock straps. Some were meant for the base, others had an
additional strap that ran along the scrotum between the balls.
The leather was purple, red, or silver, but mostly black. A few
had studs. One had a long strap with rings at regular intervals,
to serve as a cage, a set of metal ribs for some masochist's
manhood.

The trays rotated in front of Maytag, and he found them strangely
masculine. These were not silly hand-held substitutes for a
portion of a woman's anatomy. They did not admit to insecurity of
size or a desire to be penetrated. They were Cock-Wear, leather
and steel for the gladiator on the make.

Maytag decided on a simple black leather strap, with two snaps
that allowed for the length to be adjusted. He placed his order
with the bearded clerk, and then asked about the technical
support contract.

"Fill this out," he said before handing him the form and a pen.

The form header displayed the Adult Tech logo, a toll free
number, and the words "Technical Support Contract". Smaller
typeface underneath warned, "Triplicate Form - Please Press
Hard". Below that was a space to indicate the location of
purchase: the name and address had been typed there already. Then
a series of check boxes listed various product categories such as
dildo, restraints, strap-on harness, and the one Maytag marked,
cock ring/strap. After that, various fields asked for name, date
of birth, sex, address, and phone number. Maytag could not
understand what they would want with his age, and left that blank
as well as his address.

On to the terms of service he went. The wording was terse. Adult
Tech sold blocks of support time, each worth 10 minutes of
support. The first ten minutes of service were free, each minute
after drew from the available blocks of time. The minimum
purchase was two blocks, and that cost triple what Maytag was
paying for the cock strap in the first place.

Adult Tech accepted credit card payments, but Maytag paid for his
contract in cash. The clerk took the form and the payment. With a
quick motion he separated two carbon copies, then handed Maytag a
yellow copy along with his change and told him, "I'll enter this
now, you should be able to call by the time you get home if you
need any help."

Outside, the retreating sun gave way to stronger winds. Leaves
tumbled end over end and chimed the coming of winter. The bright
realm of plastic and neon Maytag had just left seemed miles away.
A place of perpetual arousal could not be more distant from the
natural world that was locking itself away until spring. He
stepped into his car with the brown paper bag and yellow slip of
paper and drove back to his apartment.

Even inside the building, the seasonal change held Maytag. He
started a pot of water to boil before bothering to check if he
had any tea bags in the apartment. Radio and television held no
interest. Instead, Gerry settled into an armchair with his tea
and a sci-fi novel.

Warmth returned. The protagonist of the space opera engaged in
the mandatory tryst. Maytag stirred. Soon his thoughts returned
to the paper bag on his coffee table and the mystery of the
support contract he signed earlier. When he finished the chapter
he was reading, he stood up from his chair and retrieved the bag.

The relation between a circle's diameter and its circumference
combined with Maytag's own modesty to create a sense of dismay.
There was no way, thought Maytag, that he was big enough to wear
that strap around his cock.

Enamored as he was in the shop of the image of oiled gladiator
cocks dressed for conquest, he had no idea exactly how to wear
the damn thing. It seemed meant to be worn at the base,
encircling the scrotum as well as the shaft, but it could also be
intended for the girth of the trunk only.

Suddenly, the idea of having technical support -- calm, informed
people paid to help him use this new equipment -- made perfect
sense. Investigative curiosity pushed him out of the house, but
he called Adult Tech out of a genuine need for instruction.

"This is Stuart at Adult Tech," said the voice on the end of the
line, "How may I help you?"

"Hello," said Maytag, "my name is Gerald Maytag and I seem to be
having some trouble with something I bought earlier today."

"Do you have a customer number, Mr. Maytag?"

"No, I'm sorry. I don't know what that is."

"That's OK, I'll just have to search for your records. This will
only take a minute."

In the few seconds of dead time, Maytag sat down and turned the
leather strap over in his free hand.

"Could I have your phone number, please, Mr. Maytag," inquired
Stuart.

"Yes, that's 555 3971," said Maytag.

"In what area code?"

"I'm sorry, ***."

After a moment, Stuart spoke again, "OK, Mr. Maytag, I see that
you started your contract with Adult Tech today. Your record is
incomplete, though, and I need to get some information from you.
Please know that this information remains extremely confidential,
and nothing you tell us is ever sold to or seen by anyone outside
Adult Tech."

"Fine," Maytag replied.

"We'll need your address for billings, mailings, et cetera."

Maytag told Stuart his street number, apartment, city, state, and
postal code.

"Could I have your date of birth?"

"I don't see how that's necessary," said Maytag.

"This is to assure that you are over 18. Actually, I'm surprised
that the G-Town Book Barn processed your forms without it."

"Well, I guess I look older than 18," said Maytag, "Besides, I'm
happy that they actually got around to entering the information
in to your computer today."

"That's actually a clause in our agreement with the vendors, Mr.
Maytag. If they are not prompt they face the possibility of a
diminished commission."

"Really?"

"Absolutely," said the formal Stuart. "At Adult Tech your
complete satisfaction is our business."

Maytag did not respond.

"Now," continued Stuart, "I'll need to ask you to tell me your
sexual orientation. This may seem invasive, but we feel it helps
to serve you better and it does remain confidential."

Maytag thought for a moment and then asked, "What are my
choices?"

"Celibate, heterosexual, bisexual, homosexual, transvestite,
transgender, transsexual, dominant, submissive, or other."

"Other?"

"We serve a variety of clients, Mr. Maytag."

"Can I pick more than one?" asked Maytag.

"Of course," replied Stuart.

"Heterosexual," said Maytag, then added, "That's it."

"Very good. Your customer number is M as in Mary seven four
seven. When you use that number in the future, our operators will
see only your name, sexual preference, and the items you own
under contract. How would you like your name to appear there, Mr.
Maytag?"

Maytag realized this was meant for his privacy and said, "Gerry.
Just Gerry."

"Very good, Mr. Maytag. Lastly, we can assure your complete
privacy with operators in the future if you give us your credit
card number and authorize us to make charges. We will charge you
for blocks of ten minutes at a time, and we will always inform
you when we need to make a charge."

"I'd rather not do that," said Maytag.

"No problem, Mr. Maytag. I'll transfer you to one of our
technicians now."

The softer voice of a woman replaced Stuart's and said, "This is
Chrissy, how can I help you Gerry?"

"Hi, Chrissy," said Maytag, "I seem to be having some trouble
figuring out exactly how to use something I bought today."

"Since there's only one item listed under contract, I'm going to
assume that it's a cock restraint?"

"Yes, that's right," replied Maytag. Chrissy's voice worked in
the lower end of her range. Maytag had been shopping earlier in
the weekend, and the voice of the girl who had helped him at the
mall was very different. Her pitch was high, and her sentences
ended even higher. Every thing she said sounded like a question.

Chrissy, in contrast, spoke definitively. "Gerry, I'm going to
ask you to describe the restraint so that we can step you through
using it. First of all, is it a ring, a strap, or something
else?"

"A strap," Maytag said, while thinking about what 'something
else' could possibly be. Maybe the set of rings he saw in the
store qualified. "It's just a single strap of black leather with
some snaps on the end," he added.

Maytag heard Chrissy typing and then she asked, "OK, tell me what
you need to know."

"To start with, does it go around the base or the shaft?"

"Most men prefer it around the base, enclosing your cock and
balls. The belief is that it restricts the blood flow and
prolongs erection. At the very least, though, it provides a
distinct sensation. By the way, do you mind my use of the word
'cock'? Is there something else you'd prefer?"

"Uh, no, 'cock' is fine," answered Maytag.

"Fine. Is your cock out, Gerry?"

"No," said Maytag.

"I want you to get comfortable, and take your pants off. I also
need you to slide off your underwear. What kind of underwear do
you wear, Gerry?"

"Boxers," said Maytag.

"You sound a little quiet, Gerry. I don't want you aroused quite
yet, we need to get that strap on while you're pliant," observed
Chrissy.

"So I guess I shouldn't ask what you're wearing," said Maytag.

"We'll get to that," Chrissy replied softly. "Are you comfy?"

"Yes, I'm on the sofa."

"OK, now take your cock and balls in one hand, lift and place the
strap, snaps facing you, on the underside. Then hold onto each
end of the strap and let your goods fall back."

"I'm going to have to put down the phone," said Maytag.

"Of course."

Maytag did as instructed, then gripped one end of the strap
between his thumb and index finger, and the other between his two
smallest digits. He had to make a fist to do so. He then turned
his hand to lie along his dick in order to keep hold of the strap
without moving it out from behind his balls.

Using his free hand, he retrieved the phone and said, "OK, got
it."

"Now go ahead and snap it together. The nearest snaps, no need to
make this too tight right away."

Head tilted to wedge the phone between his face and shoulder,
Maytag snapped the strap into place. "OK."

"Good. How does it feel?"

"Kind of weird," he said, "It feels like I'm being stretched more
than gripped. Looks like a dog collar, too," said Maytag as he
studied the change in his dick's appearance. It did look like a
dog collar, with his balls as the mutt's sagging jowls, and the
loose prick playing the role of the nose. He added, "But
that's the ugliest dog's face I've ever seen."

Chrissy laughed and said, "Before I leave you I want to make sure
that collar works correctly. Why don't you take Fido for a walk,
Gerry?"

Maytag cleared his throat, took his willy in his hand and said
to Chrissy, "Is it appropriate now to ask about your underwear?"

"Entirely," purred Chrissy. "Actually, I had a rough time of it
today."

"Really?" said Maytag, "Why was that?"

"I wanted to wear these black pants today," said, Chrissy, "You
know, the tight, hip hugging, straight leg pants with a slight
flare. All the girls are wearing them."

Maytag mumbled acknowledgement, but his attention was elsewhere.
His usual style of self arousal was to pull at his salt water
taffy until it became hard candy. That didn't work now because
the leather pulled back uncomfortably. Also, the effect of the
strap on the underside was to lift his balls up and close to his
sugar stick. With his dick at flaccid length, those balls were
now where most of his fingers usually took hold.

"Anyway, they zipper up in the back, and they're real tight in
the seat," elaborated Chrissy.

Adjusting to the restraint, Maytag gently rubbed the head of his
dick with his thumb, and massaged the shaft with his two
forefingers. "I know the kind you mean," said Maytag.

"I hate panty lines, you know. They look so tacky."

"Right," said Maytag as he continued his massage work.

"But I didn't exactly feel enthusiastic about a thong riding up
my ass all day, either," she said.

"So what did you do?" Maytag asked. The sugars of his taffy were
beginning to crystalize.

"Well, I spent a lot of time with my back to the mirror, looking
over my shoulder and bending over to check for panty lines."

Maytag took note of that mental image and said, "And?"

"And I could see them. Or I thought I could. Doesn't matter. I
changed into a thong and made myself breakfast."

"So you're wearing a thong," said Maytag as he fingered his
stiffened prick.

"I'm not finished yet. I sit down to eat and read the paper and
then when I get up that damn strip of cotton is bothering me."

"So you're not wearing anything?" asked Maytag as he pumped with
his fist.

"Sorry, stud," said Chrissy, "But I decided to skip the pants for
today. I wore leggings and a skirt instead."

Somewhat crestfallen, Maytag uttered a simple, "Oh."

Chrissy noted his disappointment and said, "I though you might
like skirts?"

"Oh, I do. I do."

"How are you doing there, Gerry? Are you about to pop those snaps
or what?"

"I wouldn't say that, but it does feel tighter now. My balls feel
funny."

"Funny how?"

"I don't know. Swollen, I guess."

"Is that bad?"

"No, not really. It's like they've exceeded capacity somehow."

Chrissy cooed and then said, "Oh, you sound close to coming,
Gerry. Did you like hearing about my underwear?"

"Yes."

"I like your voice, Gerry. It makes me feel like I don't need
these leggings to keep my legs warm."

"Maybe you should take them off," replied Maytag.

"Maybe I will."

Maytag heard a thump on the end of the line. He stopped his
stroking momentarily and asked what had happened.

"Nothing," said Chrissy, "I just kicked off my ankle boots."

Maytag increased the pace of his stroking. His cock had grown to
the point that his fingers were not in constant contact with his
lifted nuts. However, the increased pace caused a slapping
between his knuckles and his nut sack.

"Are you taking off the leggings?" asked Maytag anxiously.

"Yes. I just shaved my legs last night, too. They feel so smooth.
I just want to rub my hands up and down my thighs for a while."

"You do that," said Maytag. His prick was fully engorged. The
veins emerged from the now tight band of black leather and bulged
against the soft skin of his staff. The head swelled, more livid
than usual, and the distension of his balls grew until it felt
like a steady burn.

"I've always loved rubbing myself through my panties," said
Chrissy, "It feels so dirty, so urgent. It feels like I'm in the
back seat of my parents' car, and some hot stud is feeling me
up."

"How naughty," Maytag commented.

"I know. I feel so bad. I want to lean back in this chair like
I'm leaning against that boy. I want to feel his hard cock press
against my ass. Is your cock hard, Gerry?"

"Uh huh," he answered.

"I remember blowing guys in the backs of cars. Sucking them until
their cum filled my mouth and dripped down my chin. Does that
sound good?"

Maytag managed a weak, "Yeah."

"These panties are so wet now. Like I've been running in the
park; except I'm just sitting here talking to you and playing
with myself. Want me to move them to the side, Gerry?"

Gerry only grunted in response.

"Oh, look at that, I forgot that I shaved my pussy last night,
too."

At that Gerry came. He never used the term 'pop' before to
describe his own ejaculation, but that was how it felt. The
pressure built up behind that strap, and when the moment came,
one wad pushed through his length. A hot warmth accompanied it,
and as his jism splashed on his chest, the heat spread through
his cock.

Incredibly, the warm swell of his balls grew somewhat with his
orgasm, and took some time to subside. As his dick grew limp, the
trapped blood returned to the rest of his body, and transferred
the heat throughout. He was slightly damp with perspiration.

"So glad to see that we were able to help you today, Gerry," said
Chrissy. "Will you be needing anything else?"

"No," said Maytag with a deep breath, "I think I'm fine."

Chrissy said goodbye, and Maytag was left with a sudden chill and
a dead phone line.

On Monday, work consisted mostly of filing reports and other
housekeeping duties. Maytag's partner, Heather Stanton, disliked
the paperwork, but Maytag found it more useful. He fancied
himself a wise animal from Aesop's fables, planning wisely for
the future. He was a squirrel, and each page of notes he
transcribed, filed away, and cross referenced, was another acorn
nestled away for later use. The fall weather only increased that
mental image.

Maytag wanted to broach the subject of his findings with his
partner, but whenever he came close, he thought about the orgasm
he had the night before and stopped. He was not ready to divulge
what he found to Stanton. He was not willing to take that
personal experience and write it up in case notes and file it
away. Not yet. This acorn was still his alone. All he told his
partner Stanton was that he had done some shopping that weekend.

At any rate, Maytag thought it didn't warrant much of an
investigation. Adult Tech was nothing more than expensive phone
sex with a lot of window dressing; nothing worth an official
inquiry.

That was his attitude during the day. By nightfall, he noticed a
curious itch in his crotch. His skin was irritated. He had
intended to wear the strap that night, work himself to arousal,
then have Tech Support assist him in "achieving customer
satisfaction". He did have some left over support hours, after
all. Once again, though, he had a genuine problem and a genuine
reason for calling.

After giving the Adult Tech operator his customer number, Maytag
was connected to a support specialist. "This is Kelly, how can I
help you, Gerry?"

"Hi, Kelly. It's about this cock strap. Last night I called to
find out how to use it, but tonight I seem to have a skin
irritation problem, and I wondered if you might know if it was
caused by the strap, or if you had any ideas."

"Yes, I see that Chrissy helped you last night. I don't know
exactly why you might be experiencing skin irritation, but I can
look up some common problems we've seen before." Kelly began
typing on the other end of the line.

"Gerry, are you allergic to leather?" asked Kelly.

"I don't think so," he said.

"OK. Is the itch actually on your dick, or on your scrotum, or
someplace else?"

"Mostly on my lower abdomen, right above the base," replied
Maytag.

"I see. Do you have a lot of long pubic hair, there, Gerry?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"That might be your problem right there. Some men report that the
hairs get caught in the strap, then pulled back and forth
resulting in irritated skin. I'd suggest trimming, or possibly
even shaving, some or all of the hair where the strap tightens
around you."

"Shaving?" asked Maytag incredulously.

"It's not as bad as it sounds, Gerry. we can talk you through it,
or we can send out a field engineer to help you if you would
prefer."

"I'm sorry," said Maytag, "But did you say a field engineer?"

That was correct, explained Kelly. For a minimum of fifteen
minutes support time, a field engineer could be sent to his
apartment to help with his problem. His account would then be
billed for three times the number of minutes the engineer was on
site.

After Gerry did some quick mathematics in his head, he agreed to
the terms. Kelly informed him of the need to buy the time in
advance, with his credit card. The charges would appear as "ATI
Services".

Within the hour, the apartment buzzer rang. Through the intercom,
Julie from Adult Tech introduced herself. Maytag told her which
floor he was on, then pressed the button to unlock the front
door. He opened his apartment door for her a moment later.

Julie looked like an auto mechanic with long curly hair. She wore
grey coveralls emblazoned with the Adult Tech logo, a blue
baseball cap with the same graphic, and a simple pair of black
running shoes. She even had a tool box. Impeccable makeup alone
distinguished her from a uniformed plumber or cable TV installer.
Bright red colored her lips, and the flat black eye liner made
the black of her eyes seem that much more alive.

"Hello, Gerry." she said , extending her hand. "I'm Julie."

"Hi, Julie," Gerry replied as he shook hands with her.

"I understand you need a little haircut, right?" Julie asked
playfully. She looked to be in her mid twenties, and her smile
was dynamite, with or without the high gloss lipstick.

"That's correct," said Maytag.

"Great. Where should we set up?"

"How about the bathroom?" offered Maytag.

"Sounds good to me."

Maytag led the way to the bathroom. There was a full sized tub, a 
closet, and room for two bath mats. As he stood in the doorway 
and Julie knelt on the ground to open her toolbox, the room 
seemed quite small. 

Julie looked back at him and said, "Why don't you take your
clothes off, and have a seat right here?" She tapped her hand on
the toilet seat to indicate it. Maytag did as instructed, and was
soon naked in front of what was ostensibly the cable guy. What
started as his desire for slightly enhanced onanism had
transformed to a bizarre housecall.

Maytag sat while Julie removed some items from the red plastic
case. The lid was on end and facing him, so he could not see
inside. He was very curious, however. Julie closed the lid,
pushed the box by the sink, and then moved the mat from in front
of the toilet, leaving cold black and white tiles for Maytag's
feet.

"OK, now stand up," she said pleasantly.

Maytag did so, and Julie took his spot on the toilet seat,
wearing latex gloves, and holding scissors. "Turn to face me,"
she said.

Again, Maytag complied. Julie looked up at him, and gave him a
reassuring smile. That seemed entirely appropriate considering
that she was about to take a pair of scissors to his pubic area.
She turned the baseball cap around, keeping both the brim and her
hair out of her way.

With two fingers of her left hand, she took a lock of bushy hair
from the top of his thatch, and then ran her fingers over it. A
slick substance on the gloves helped glide the rubber over the
hairs. When Julie tightened her grip at the end, the hairs pulled
slightly on the loose flesh. She then lifted the blades, opened
them, slid them over the extended hairs, and snipped. What was a
long wiry patch had been trimmed to a neat fraction of its
original length.

Julie continued in that manner, when Maytag asked, "What's the
slippery stuff?"

"KY Jelly," answered Julie. "It just keeps the gloves from
tugging on the hair."

Occasionally, she pushed his unit out of the way, or held him to
the right or left while she snipped. Her touch was confident and
comfortable, but not sexual. It felt like a haircut, and it was
over quickly.

When she was done, Julie stood up and told Maytag to have a seat.
She then took a small brush and dustbin and swept the hairs up
from the tile and threw them into the waste basket.

"Now stand again, and put your right leg on the seat," Julie
directed.

Before he had the chance to protest, Julie had a palm full of
shaving cream and was rubbing it onto his scrotum. "I don't know
about this," said Maytag when he recovered his speech.

"I think it's the best way to assure no hairs will get caught up
in that restraint of yours," Julie rebutted. "Besides, you can
trust me. Didn't the trim go nicely?"

Maytag admitted that it had, but "That was scissors near the
family jewels, not a razor blade scraping against them."

"You scrape a razor against that face, right? What's cuter, that
devilish face, or this wrinkled sack?"

"It's not a matter of cute, it's a matter of sensitive."

"I've done this before, you know," said Julie. She then batted her
eyes and added, "I'll be gentle."

Maybe it was Julie's uniform that inspired confidence. Perhaps it
was the skill Julie displayed when she cut the other hair of his
nether region. Most likely it was a conditioned inability to say
no to a woman kneeling in front of him, fondling his balls.
Whatever the reason, Maytag agreed to the shave.

Julie washed the remaining lotion from her gloved hands, then
removed a disposable razor from a sealed plastic bag. "Just for
you, Gerry," she said.

"How thoughtful," he replied.

Julie then began the slow careful process of shaving Maytag's
balls. For each spot, she used one hand to keep his dick out of
the way, or to move the dangling skin away from his leg. With 
short careful strokes, she moved the razor over the skin. Using 
hot water, she rinsed the razor after each pass. 

The shaving cream had begun to tingle on his skin. The warm blade
brought relief as it removed the delicate sensation, bit by bit.
Though not exactly arousing, the feeling was interesting, and
certainly intimate. Maytag breathed slowly.

When Julie finished, Maytag's own genitals felt strangely
foreign. Where his balls had a soft layer of curls, there was now
only bare skin, some wrinkly, some smooth. The wiry mass of hair
that he had been accustomed to seeing when he looked down for
more than half his life had been almost entirely removed. A
military-precision buzzcut had replaced his fun loving hippy
hairs.

"My dick looks bigger," said Maytag as he regarded himself in a
mirror.

"That's an illusion," said Julie as she collected her things,
"Trim the hedges, and the tree sitting next to them looks
taller." She looked at Maytag and asked, "Do you like the new
'do'?"

"It's different," mused Maytag.

"I think it looks good. You have a pretty nice body, Gerry. What
do you do to stay in shape?"

"There's an exercise facility at my office building," he said.
Not at all a lie, but he wasn't going to scare Julie off by
adding that the facility belonged to the FBI.

"Nice perk. OK, let's see how that strap feels on you now."

Naked, Maytag led the way back to the living room where he'd left 
the little strip of leather. Maytag found it easier to put the 
restraint on, mostly because he was standing. A quick tuck 
underneath using both hands, then a quick snap, and the belt was 
snugly in place. Without hair in the way, the leather stood out 
boldly. Julie admired the sight of the cock collar when Maytag 
turned to present himself. 

"Very nice," she said, "Now let's see how it looks around
something stiffer."

Maytag waited for Julie to approach and take hold of his
well-dressed unit, but she remained in place, smiling and eyeing
his package. This was a dangerous game. He was approaching the
area where personal fulfillment ran in direct contrast to his
chosen profession.

"You want me to do this myself? I thought I was the customer
here," asserted Maytag.

"Oh, I'm sorry," mocked Julie, "Do you need a little help?" Julie
then tossed her baseball hat away, and shook out her long flaxen
curls. She flashed a hungry smile at Maytag, and took the zipper
of her coveralls between her thumb and forefinger.

Maytag grinned and took a step towards her. With her free hand,
Julie raised a finger to stop him. The other hand then tugged
down and out on the zipper, revealing her throat, collar, and the
top of her chest.

Cock in hand, Maytag affixed his eyes to the parting of the metal
teeth, and the canvas of skin uncovered. Shiny blue spandex
covered her breasts, and it became clearer that the uniform went
beyond the coveralls.

Julie had unzipped to her waist, and she slid out of her sleeves
to show Maytag a soft body of gentle curves. Out of the
coveralls, her bikini bottoms rose up onto her hips, turned and
dove back behind his line of sight. She twisted her hips and the
light sparkled off the bright material of her suit.

Pausing a moment to admire the show that Maytag in turn was
providing, Julie said, "How does that feel? Any irritation?"

"No it feels good," said Maytag as he stroked himself slowly.

"It probably helps to stand, too," said Julie as she fondled her
breasts. "That way you aren't rubbing against the leather at any
bad angle."

Julie thumbed her nipples through the elastic fabric of the
bikini, and soon those nipples jutted forth. Not as far as
Maytag's cock, but far enough that he could see them push against
the material.

Using her heels, Julie pushed off the black sneakers. She kicked
them aside and turned to her right. She leaned over at the waist,
and pushed the coveralls down to expose her legs. She bent at the
knees to pass the jump suit over her ankles.

Maytag and Julie exchanged smiles, and Julie turned to offer a
glimpse of her ass. After spreading her legs beyond shoulder
width apart, Julie leaned to her right and grabbed at her lower
calf with both arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as
Julie's hands moved along her calf and then her thigh. When she
reached her buttock, Julie threw her arms in front of her,
straightened her torso, and bent at the waist.

The shiny blue pulled tight against her bottom. As she continued
her stretch, the material lost some of its grip, and slid toward
the center from both sides, exposing more of her buttocks and
something of a tan line.

Julie looked back over her shoulder and saw that Maytag was
engrossed with her backside. She stood up and reached behind
herself with both hands. After pulling the material away with her 
hands, she pushed down, and bunched the fabric together. She 
hiked that blue cord along the crack of her ass, cleaving the 
cheeks, and flashing the white part that the sun and tanning 
booths were not privileged enough to view. 

Quickly, Julie readjusted the bikini bottoms and brought her
hands to the knot between her shoulder blades. With one pull she
untied it, and turned to show Maytag small breasts the same color
as the white on her ass.

"Why don't you have a seat, Gerry?"

"How about that one," he said.

Giggling, Julie hopped over to the bathroom, and returned with
her red toolbox. Maytag had settled into the sofa; Julie cleared
the newspapers from the coffee table, and then pushed it back
slightly from the sofa. She sat on the edge, reached over to the
side and opened the small chest.

>From the box she removed a small grey tube. Julie flipped open
the top with her thumb, and brought the nozzle over to her chest.
Three quick squeezes left wet shiny streaks on her breasts. Julie
placed the tube on the table, and then rubbed the wet stuff over
her tits.

Julie stood and rubbed the slippery stuff all over her torso, and
teasingly brought her fingers down below her bikini. She took the
tube from the table, held it over Maytag's pumping fist and then
squeezed a dollop of the goop from its container.

The cold clear gel splashed onto the gap between Gerry's fist and
his shaft. Each subsequent stroke spread the lubricant further
around his pole. Maytag helped coat his cock by twisting and
turning his palm but he did not stop stroking: the urgent swell
of his cinched genitals demanded that he continue.

Julie drizzled more gel over Maytag's glistening cock. She
enjoyed the sight of the deep colored head emerging wet and shiny
from his fist after every stroke. Their eyes met for a moment and
Julie licked her lips and winked.

She pulled the tube away from Maytag, and held it to her chest,
open end pointing down. She slid it up and down between her tits,
then pushed the container against her sternum. Using her other
hand, she pulled the waistband of the bikini bottom away from her
body. The gobs that fell from the mouth of the tube fell squarely
in the crotch of her suit.

Julie dropped the tube, then pulled the fabric tight against her
mound. A dark smear emerged in the blue triangle, and a crease in
the material followed the cleavage of her pussy. The slick
spandex slid inside her slit, and Maytag swallowed at the sight
of the puffy flesh that surrounded her cunt.

"I see you get a lot of shaving practice in," said Gerry.

"I see that you're quite good at jerking off," Julie retorted.

"How about you," said Maytag as he watched Julie clench the blue
strip against the folds of her pussy, "you get that kind of
practice?"

"You mean like this?" asked Julie as she moved the material to
the side and slid two fingers down her pink lips.

Maytag pushed his ass over to the side of the sofa and slid his
back along the cushions until Julie's crotch was at eye level.
The position was completely uncomfortable, but he did not imagine
he would be holding it for too long.

Julie circled her clit with her fingers. The flesh surrounding it
was indeed shaved smooth, and the lubricant made it look wet and
inviting.

"Do you want to taste it, Gerry? Would you like to eat my pussy?"

Gerry mumbled affirmatively as he felt the pressure of his orgasm
build against the tight band of leather at the base of his cock.

Julie bent at the knees, parting her lips slightly. She pushed
her two fingers inside and let out a soft moan.

Gerry's cock twitched in anticipation. His stroking slowed in
pace but his grip tightened. Julie withdrew her fingers, then
brought them under Maytag's nose.

He caught the smell of her, then wrapped his lips around her
fingers and sucked away the tart sweetness. His orgasm paralyzed
him save for the suckling on her fingers and the squeezing of his
own cock. Cum cascaded from the glans of his dick and mixed with
the slippery gel covering his manhood. The warm slippery strokes
on the crown of his tip sent shivers through him, and he sucked
harder on Julie's fingers to provide an anchor against the waves.

Finally, Maytag released Julie's hand from his mouth, and she
stroked his cheek gently with it. Maytag allowed himself to slump
against the floor, and his head came to rest on the edge of the
seat cushion.

Julie took a towel from her toolbox, dried her hand and chest and
then offered it to Maytag. Gerry cleaned off his hand and cock.
Maytag apologized for getting his cum all over it.

"Don't worry about it," she said, "We'll bill you for it later."

Maytag laughed weakly. Drowsiness settled over him. He unbuttoned
the cock strap and removed it. That brought relief to his crotch,
and Maytag sighed heavily with exhaustion.

"Glad to see that we took care of that problem," said Julie as
she collected her items, and put her clothes back on. "Always
nice to see a satisfied customer when I leave a site."

Maytag started to push himself up, but Julie stopped him. "No,
don't get up." She took a small clipboard from her box and jotted
some things down with a pen attached to the board by a chain. She
removed a stopwatch from the pocket of her grey coveralls, noted
some more information on the paper, then handed it to Maytag.

"Just sign or initial here, and I'll let myself out," Julie said
cheerfully.

Maytag penned his signature and returned the clipboard to Julie.
As she lifted her box and headed for the door, he called out to
her, "Hey, one question," he said.

Julie stopped, looked back and said, "What's that?"

"Where do you learn this kind of engineering?" he asked with a
smile.

Julie shrugged her shoulders and said thoughtfully, "Just between
us? I went to Penn State."
----------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you enjoyed that, and I'd love to hear your comments.
This story and others can be found at http://www.jimmy-hat.com

Copyright 1999 by Jimmy Hat (jimmy@jimmy-hat.com)
Anyone wishing to charge fees for access to this material, through 
any media or publication, must receive the written permission of Jimmy Hat.

-- 
If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author.  Your comments
are their only payment.  Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is
copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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