When a "Stud Finder" Finds a Stud

I had my own small construction company a few years ago and when I say "small," I mean "small." I had one full-time carpenter, a second I could usually count on when I needed more help, and several independent electricians, plumbers and painters I'd sub-out to when I got a job.

It was a re-model that led me Jeannie and the experiences I'm about to share with you. She and her husband, Robert, signed me to re-do the bathrooms in their 1930s-era house, plus enlarging several closets and a den.

It was pretty much a straightforward job, except for one of the bathrooms; it looked as if it might have been re-done at some time in the past and re-done poorly. So there I was, one morning, running my new-fangled electronic stud finder back and forth over the suspect wall and trying to determine the underlying structure before taking down the wall.

Enter Jeannie, a 30-something cutie with a pixie haircut, a short compact body and a very out-going personality. She was wearing a short-sleeved pullover shirt and a rather short, flouncy skirt.

"Whatcha doin', Don?" she asked.

"I'm checking out this wall where it backs on to the next room," I answered. "It looks a little funny to me."

"What's that in your hand?"

"Oh, this? It's called a 'stud finder.'"

"A 'stud finder'? How does it work?"

"Well, it's got a magnet, a pretty sensitive magnet, inside it and when I run it over the wall, this little red light comes on when it passes over nails. Knowing where the nails are tells me where the studs are. And then I have some idea of how the wall was built."

"Oh."

She thought about that for a minute and then said with a cheerful smile: "I never realized it before, but I have a stud finder too."

"You do?"

"Sure. Want to see how mine works?"

"Sure."

With that, Jeannie did this little dance, hopping from side to side, and flipping her small skirt up to flash her panties. "Now let's see if I found a stud," she said, reaching out to squeeze my crotch. But her little show was too brief to get me that excited, even though I recognized instantly what she had in mind.

"Hmmm," she said, feigning disappointment. "What do you do if you don't find a stud right away?"

"I keep trying."

She did her little dance again, this time pulling her top up to reveal her tits -- she wasn't wearing a bra -- before turning around, bending over and hiking her skirt up to reveal a sweet round ass in a blue cotton bikini panty. She wiggled it provocatively and then backed up to grind it against my crotch. Smiling, she looked back over her shoulder at me: "I wonder if I've found a stud now."

"You sure have, babe," I replied as I took her hand and placed it squarely on my rapidly-hardening cock. "You sure have."

We moved into the bedroom and quickly stripped each other naked. I tried to go down on her first but she pushed me down on the bed and jumped on me in the 69 position. Flat on my back, I was looking up at a neatly-trimmed pussy and a set of inner labia peeking out from a cushiony pair of outer lips. Just as I was tugging on her hips to bring that pussy down to my tongue and spreading those lips to get at her clit, I felt her mouth engulf my cock.

Although things had proceeded rather quickly since that first question -- "whatcha doin', Don?" -- somehow things now seemed to slow down. Jeannie wasn't fast-forwarding her mouth on my cock and I wasn't lapping her lips and clit like a hungry cat suddenly given a saucer of milk. We seemed to sense we each wanted it to last and so the foreplay moved along at a more leisurely pace.

But only for so long, of course. Just as I was beginning to feel an electric tingle in my balls, Jeannie stopped sucking and looked back at me: "Ready for some good old-fashioned fucking now?"

"You bet."

She turned around to straddle me, taking my saliva-slicked cock in her hand and rubbing it back and forth between her labia before slowly, slowly guiding it into her vault. It felt wonderful and we brought each other off to truly great orgasms.

We fucked just as joyfully a second time maybe 30 or 40 minutes later that first day and again several more times in succeeding days before my guys began swarming over the house, tearing out walls, building new ones and installing wiring and fixtures. It was hard after that finding the time to be alone, but we managed to do so occasionally.

Once the job was finished, Jeannie found all kinds of excuses to bring me back -- this wasn't quite right, that wasn't quite right -- but of course all those calls were pretexts to get me back, get me naked, get me hard and get me buried deep in her sweet vagina.

Did her husband know or care that I was remodeling his wife's pussy as I had the house? "Nope," she said cheerfully one day, when I asked her if she ever worried about Robert coming home unexpectedly to find me hammering her with my cock. "We have an understanding. If he's fucking someone else, then I can fuck someone else. At the moment, he's fucking some 20-something girl in his office building and so I'm free to fuck whomever I like. At the moment, I like you."

Proof of that arrangement came one morning, just as Jeannie was sinking her velvety, wet pussy down on my very upright member [she liked being on top], when we heard Robert's voice from the living room. "Jeannie? Jeannie? I hate to bother you, Hon, but do you see a blue file folder there on the night-stand?" I froze but Jeannie never missed a beat.

"Yes, it's here."

"Damn! I forgot it this morning and I really need it at work; that's why I turned around and came home. I realize you and Don are together but could you bring it out to me?"

With a rueful little smile, Jeannie lifted off me and, unashamedly bare-assed, took the file out to him. Returning to the bedroom, she stood alongside the bed as if trying hard to remember something.

"Let's see," she said, "where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?" She made a face and bit her lower lip. "Oh!" she cried in mock surprise, "now I remember -- we were fucking!" And she hopped back atop me, stuffed my cock back up inside her and began humping vigorously.

The remodeling job has long since been completed but Jeannie and I still have our thing going. That sometimes includes dates with Robert and his latest girlfriend. The four of us have gone away together on skiing and other recreational weekends and neither she nor he has ever shown the slightest trace of jealousy. It sometimes freaks out Robert's companion when she learns that Robert's wife is in the next-door bedroom with her lover -- but as Jeannie says on those occasions: "Live with it."