As I turn off the shower, I hear the doorbell ringing. It was being pressed with some urgency, it seemed. I wondered if whoever was at the door had been ringing for some time, and I had not heard. I yell down the stairs, "Coming!" and the ringing stops.
Quickly toweling off, I am still damp as I pad naked into the bedroom to find the robe. I know it is in the closet somewhere, big, green and fluffy like a towel.
But I can't find it. The cool air in the bedroom makes my nipples, still covered with a thin film of water, harder and harder. I am starting to shiver and get goosebumps. I am also starting to get frustrated, as I do when looking for some piece of clothing that I can't find. The doorbell ringing starts again, so I run back to the top of the stairs and yell down again, "Coming! Hold your horses!!" The ringing stops.
I hurry back to the closet and found the first thing I can throw on: my old shortie blue robe with the white hem and tie.
I put it on, thinking that it won't be enough, but that it will have to do while I get rid of whoever is down there ringing the doorbell. As I tie it I notice that it barely closes in the front, and I reach back to note that it barely covers my ass, but it will have to do. I try to arrange my long, blonde hair to cover myself, but it's not really working.
I slip my feet into my blue high-heeled sandals, because they're the only pair of shoes I can see readily available. "Well, at least they match," I think to myself. Frustrated and angry, I start downstairs, holding the robe together on top with one hand and with the other at the hem.
As I get to the first landing the ringing starts again, so I yell, "Hang on a minute!!" at the top of my lungs. It better not be a salesman, I think, 'cause I'm so angry I might punch him in the mouth.
As I turned the corner toward the door I see the two men in overalls through the window, standing impatiently and poised to ring the bell again. They freeze when they see me. "Damn, damn, damn," I think...
The plumbers aren't supposed to be here until after lunch. The dispatcher had assured me that they couldn't possibly make it any earlier, even though I had asked for emergency service.
I open the door just a bit, using the hand I had holding the hem together. Even though they've already seen me through the window, I'm still feeling modest. "Can you wait there a moment while I get dressed? ... I wasn't expecting you this early."
The shorter one, brawny and rough looking, the one standing closer to the door with the toolbox, scowls a bit at my suggestion. The one behind him, tall and lean, bends forward and produces a clipboard. Both are handsome, too handsome for plumbers, but rough looking, almost animalistic.
"Says here you wanted immediate service, ma'am." The lean one has a thick, almost hillbilly accent.
"Look, if you don't want to have it fixed now, we gotta be goin', can't hang around. You're on the schedule for now, and you'll have to get rescheduled." The shorter one has a New York City accent, maybe New Jersey. He peers through the crack in the door as he talks, as though he's trying to stare through my robe.
"Well, when could I get rescheduled?" I try to smile and be charming; hoping that they'll be more generous, though inside I'm feeling completely uncomfortable before their penetrating gazes.
Being naked under the robe makes me feel somehow more naked. The material is thin and silky, and it is clinging to my body—especially to my breasts—because I hadn't completely dried off when I put it on.
My feeble attempt at charm doesn't seem to be working. "Usually takes a few days to get on the schedule, ma'am. You're lucky we had a cancellation, or we wouldn't be here today."
"You're wastin' time lady. Let's go, Ted, we got other jobs to do." They turn to leave. I really need this done today, but I really need to get dressed too. The pressure of the moment overwhelms my better judgment. "It shouldn't take too long," I think to myself, they'll be in and out in no time.
"Wait!" I stop them. "Okay, come in and do it now, but you have to be quick, I have some errands to do an hour." I lie about the errands in the hope that it will give them a sense of urgency.
I open the door wider so they can come in, and as I do a breeze from outside starts to play with the hem of my robe. I'm pretty sure they can't see anything, but that doesn't stop them from looking. The tall one nearly walks into the doorjamb, he's so distracted. I wish again that I'd found the other robe.
As soon as I get the door closed I put my hand back down and hold the robe together. "Did the dispatcher tell you what I needed?" I say hopefully. It's a bit embarrassing, and I am hoping not to have to tell the story again.
"Nope, just to get here pronto," the shorter one replies. He has the name "Bill" embroidered on his gray jumpsuit. Cute. Bill and Ted. Except these two are so much not Bill and Ted it isn't even funny. Bill and Ted in the movie are dim and harmless.
This Bill and Ted are very much aware of their surroundings (at least very much aware of me) and seem a bit, well, dangerous. Both of them are obviously starting at my hard nipples now. Pulling the robe tight across my damp chest is keeping it closed, but it's making my nipples that much harder, and that much more obvious.
"Well, it's kind of embarrassing, I was scrubbing some pans this morning and I took my wedding ring off and laid it by the sink..."
As I start telling them I walk toward the kitchen, and instead of moving aside when I take a step toward them they just stand there, staring. So I turn and go the long way through the dining room. Well, at least they can't keep staring at my tits this way.
"And you knocked it into the sink..." Bill completes my sentence. "Well, that ain't so hard to fix. Just take off the sink trap; you probably could have done that yourself."
"Well, it went into the disposal side, actually." Now I'm standing by the sink and I open the cabinet doors as best I can without bending over at all. I turn to face them, and see that they've been staring at my ass the whole time.
They don't even try to hide their lascivious gaze. "But that shouldn't make it too hard for you, should it?" I regret the double entrendre as soon as I say it ... I'm afraid to look at what my display of near-nakedness might be making hard for them.
Ted actually looks me in the eye for a moment as he replies, before his gaze drifts back down to my nipples. "Well, actually ma'am, it's very hard, you've made it a lot harder.'' He quickly takes a step forward, right toward me (and the sink), and then kneels down in front of the open cabinet, his face just inches away from my hips.
I back away a half step, because that's all I can manage between him and the open cabinet door. His eyes are right at thigh level now. He may be able to see the disposal from that angle, but I doubt he can see much more than the pale, bare skin of my upper thights. I can feel his warm breath, and I wonder if my robe is covering me in front. He opens his mouth as though to say something, then pauses to lick his lips. "Course that depends on what kinda thing you got in there."
He glances into the open cabinet and clucks disapprovingly. "This is a pretty hairy one. I haven't seen that nice a unit in a while, but that needs a lot of work. I hope our tools will be right for this European type ... is that Danish or Swedish?. Bill, c'mere take a look."
Bill steps up behind Ted, now the two of them virtually have me pinned between the counter and the cabinet door. As he leans down over Ted's shoulder to look at the disposal, he does so slowly, and takes his time looking me over before casting a quick glance under the counter. "Yep, that's a hairy Euro type, definitely Danish." I can feel his breath on my thighs as well.
Both men stand up, but neither steps back. We're all now within inches of each other. Ted, who's about my height, maybe an inch taller, seems to be visually focused on my mouth now. Bill is back to staring at my chest. He speaks again, smiling as though he knows the answer before he asks. "Course, you already shut off the juice, right?" I can feel his breath on my neck, he's standing so close.
Darn. "No. Actually, no. Ummm, excuse me." I turn and elbow my way past Bill into the kitchen. Neither man makes much of a move to give me space. "I'll do that now."
"Okee, well we'll come with yah, so we kin make sure yah get the right circuit, than can be a real shocker if you don't." I was hoping they wouldn't follow, so I could throw on a pair of jeans from the dryer, but then I can't really leave them alone here in the kitchen either. I don't trust them unless I can see them. And I do want to make sure that I get the right circuit.
They follow a few steps behind as I go down the stairs to the basement and into the utility room. I pull back the pegboard and open the cover to the circuit box, having to let go of the robe as I do. I squint at the small, penciled letters on the inside of the circuit breaker door, trying to find the right circuit.
The letters are so small and faint that I have to lean over the counter to make them out. Number 19 on the guide says kitchen, so I peer into the box to read the even fainter numbers stamped into the metal of the circuit box, and flip the switch. As I do, Ted makes an appreciative, "mmmm" noise. I look back over my shoulder to see them both looking at the hem of my robe in back, which lifted enough to expose the lower curve of my ass and the tops of my thighs.
.... There is more of this story ...