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My home building business slowed a bit and we didn’t have any new homes on the schedule for another several months. My 2 project managers were looking for something to keep busy, so they decided that we would take on a 3-month long renovation job. Instead of us subbing out the electrical, plumbing, etc., they would do the work themselves. The job itself, consisted of renovating the kitchen and all 3 bathrooms on the 1st floor. In addition, we’re building out the unfinished basement into an apartment for the homeowner’s 18-year-old daughter.
In the first few minutes of meeting with the homeowner, I realized that this lady was professional bitch. She was on the phone with somebody when she let me in for our 1st meeting together. She motioned for me to sit at the kitchen table, while she proceeded to yell and scream at the person on the other end of the phone. She cussed up a storm and called them every name in the book. After 5 minutes of listening to this, she just hung up abruptly. Not once did she apologize for putting me through that.
We met a total of 4 times before she signed the contract and each time was a variation of this same scenario. Twice, her daughter had come home while we were in our planning meetings. And twice, the both threw insults and verbally attacked one another. I was respectful enough not to turn around, so I never saw her daughter. This was gonna be a tough one. Luckily, I’m not gonna be the guy working in that house every day. On top of that, even if I was that guy, I would just put my headphones in and jam on some tunes. But I’m making a metric shit ton of money on this job, so fuck it.
In our time talking together, I found out that Maggie is recently divorced. It’s funny how god messes with men, because he gave this woman a great body, some good looks, but a shitty personality. Her anger was never directed towards me, but she sure wasn’t apologetic or overly friendly. Maggie is in her early 50’s and is very tall and professionally good looking. As I said, she has a killer body and an okay face. She would look great on your arm at the nightclub on Friday, but on Saturday morning you would beat yourself to death, try to leave before she started bitching at you.
The 1st month went well with the work playing out perfectly. I meet with the guys once a week to get updates and so forth. Sometimes we meet for lunch and other times we do happy hour. Both have said the same thing, that tension is high between mom and daughter. They seem to fight pretty regularly. About 6 weeks in, we had another big job suddenly spring up and I moved both guys to the new job site. I would finish this job out on my own. Again, they both told me the same thing. ‘Be prepared for some serious entertainment.’
And guess what? The fireworks started on my very 1st day there. As I was walking up the sidewalk, the front door flew open and Maggie stepped out. Stupid me, I thought she was coming out to greet me, but boy was I wrong. She turned back around to face inside the door and proceeded to yell to her daughter.
“And don’t think for one minute that I won’t throw your ass out. You’re 18 now and I won’t even think twice about it. You can see what it’s like in the real world out there, Missy.”
She slammed the door shut and didn’t even bother to acknowledge my presence. The door flew open again as her daughter stuck her head out and hollered to her mother.
“Please text me on your way home so I can leave before you get here. That way, I don’t have to listen to you yap yap yap.”
The daughter didn’t see me until I was almost up the front steps and she suddenly had an embarrassed look on her face. She looked down so as we didn’t have to see each other eye to eye, but just as fast, she reconsidered. She looked up and me and gave a pained smile. She held out her hand which I took, as we shook hands in greeting.
“Sorry about that. That wicked old witch just doesn’t know when to shut it off. I’m Tarrah, nice to meet you…”
Her name is pronounced Tar-uh. She left hit hanging, not having any idea who I really am.
“I’m Mo, the new guy.”
She sorta laughed, not sure how to take my answer.
“I’m actually the owner of the contracting business. I’m here to finish things out. My other guys are on a new project already, so it’s going to be just me.”
It’s obvious, she has no idea what’s going on with the renovation. But then again, how many 18-year-old kids would actually pay any attention to something like that. She looked at the embroidered logo on my shirt and it’s like a lightbulb went off and she smiled.
“Oh…yeah…Sorry, come on in. As you can hear, things have been pretty crazy around here.”
She spun around and started towards the kitchen. My 1st good view of her was from the backside and it was pretty good. Nice meaty ass in a pair of black spandex yoga leggings with no panty line. She wore a tight white spandex spaghetti strap tank top and a pair of running shoes. There were sweat marks down the crack of her ass and in the middle of the back of her shirt. The slight esenyurt anal yapan escort aroma of sweat followed her as I met her in the kitchen.
When she turned around, I was greeted with a nice rack of 34D boobs, squeezed into the material. The vertical seem of the yoga pants was stuffed up her pussy slit, giving her the nicest camel toe I’ve seen in a while. She was about 5′-6″ tall and goes about 140. She’s not fat at all, but curvy and not quite to the point of being chubby. She probably would love to weigh 10 lbs. less, but it just doesn’t happen for her. Her shirt also possessed a telltale sweat mark, which indicated she had been working out.
“Sorry, I’m pretty sure I smell like raunchy ass, I just got off the elliptical. Is there anything you need before I take a shower?”
“Naw, I’m good. The guys left a lot of notes about what still needs to be finished. Thanks though.”
Off she went to take a shower. I quickly realized that I had half a boner. She wasn’t the hottest thing around, but if she offered, I wouldn’t turn her down. There was just something about her that turned me on, in a girl next door kinda way. Her face and body have a striking resemblance to Amy Schumer, the comedian. I happen to love Amy. And Tarrah could easily pass as her sister. Today, I’m working in the kitchen, so I’ll see her as she’s in and out. I can hear the shower water running as dirty thoughts race through my mind. It’s no wonder I have half a chub.
A couple hours later, she came into the kitchen and was making lunch. She offered to make mine as well, as a way of apologizing for the scuffle I witnessed earlier. She talked while she whipped up some homemade chicken salad from fresh chicken breasts. She was facing the counter, with her back to me, while I sat at the table, savoring the view from behind again. Each time she moved, her ample ass would jiggle.
Again, she wore more spandex, but a different outfit from the sweaty one she wore earlier. I absolutely love her curvy hips and meaty ass, with the seam in the pants creeping up and separating her butt cheeks.
“Again, I’m soooooo sorry you had to hear all that. I’m guessing your guys have been filling your ears with stories, huh?”
She looked over her shoulder when she said this, looking for a cunning reply.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that. I think the word they chose was… entertaining.”
We both laughed and then she spun around and served us lunch. Her hair was pulled back and still damp, with some undone bangs hanging in her eyes. She kept flipping her head, to get the hair out of the way, which really turned me on. I could sense that she wanted to talk, but didn’t appear to know how to start or what to say. So, I eased into it with a whopper of a statement.
“Buddy of mine has daughters and he says raising them is the toughest thing he’s ever done in his whole life. I’m guessing your mom would agree to that, huh?”
She responded with a genuinely deep laugh, which made me join in too.
“It’s a potent combination of 2 strong willed people who won’t give an inch in life. We’re like gas and fire. Sometime, I’m not even sure why she wanted a kid to begin with.”
The way she said it, really hit home. It wasn’t the anger talking. It was kid who was searching for something. Something that she feels is missing.
“Aw, come on. She’s your mom. She loves you whether you realize it or not.”
“Maybe so, but she sure has a weird way of showing it. My dad left when I was 13 and she’s been married and divorced 3 more times since then. Not once, has she ever made me the priority in her life. Those early teen years are when a daughter needs her mother the most. Especially when dad is out of the picture.”
I thought about that for a moment before I replied.
“Wow, that’s rough.”
“Growing up, they always fought. Daddy worked and mommy stayed home. Problem was, mommy thought she was part of the ‘Real Housewives of Toledo Drive’. She was out running around with her friends instead of raising her daughter. It’s not like we’re rich or nuthin, just look around. We’re average people. Meanwhile, dad decided to knock up his secretary and when mom found out, she kicked is ass to the curb. Judge awarded mom some serious bucks and the house, so we stayed.”
Again, the stuff she told me is quite heavy and took a moment to sink in. She communicated this info with a very sad and frustrated tone in her voice. Not once did she exhibit anger and hostility. Just a person stating the sad but true facts of her past. I didn’t bother responding, there’s nothing I can say, so I just let her continue.
“Husband number 2 lasted just under a year. Suddenly, he didn’t like the idea that his life included a daughter. He was just too willing to dish me off on somebody else so they could live out the lifestyle he wanted. Mom put up with it for a while, but once he became too obsessed with it, they just split up.”
Again, I stayed quiet not interrupting her flow.
“Husband 3 was the esenyurt escort real humdinger. They married after knowing each other a whopping 2 months. Ain’t that some shit. Before I go on, I gotta tell you this though. I’m a bit OCD when it comes to my bedroom. Each little item has specific spot. If something is just a single millimeter off, I sense it and I fix it. 6 months into the marriage, I started sensing things being out of whack in my room. More specifically, my panties in my top drawer and the dirty panties that always seemed to find their way to the top fo the dirty clothes pile. Sounds gross, but yes, my dirty panties. I bought a little video camera put it in my room on a motion sensor. Sure enough, that fuckin pervert was using my dirty panties to jerk off with. I actually came home and caught him with them wrapped around his cock.”
My mouth dropped open in complete shot at her disclosure. I was too stunned to reply.
“Hang on, it gets better. He just thought I was some dumb naïve 15-year-old. He tried to tell me that my mom approved. He just snickered and attempted to continue pulling his pud. I physically had to kick his ass out of my room. When I showed my mom the video, she was appalled at first and confronted him. I was begging her to call the cops and report his ass. They were in their room for hours. Finally, she came out and offered this insane ultimatum. That we would just keep this between us, if he agrees not to do stuff like this anymore. Can you believe that shit? I fuckin lost it. Next day, I called 911 anyhow and gave them the video.”
As before, I was at a loss for words. All I could do was shake my head in disbelief and I reached across the table to touch her hand hoping to exude some support. A few times, her eyes got glassy, but she never shed a tear. I’m sure the tears have run out by this point in her life. It’s just a matter of her moving on and putting this in the past.
“She literally lost her fuckin mind when she found out. Tried to blame everything on me. Here’s the crazy part, and I’m not sure why, but I just couldn’t rat her out and I told the detectives that she had no idea it even happened. You would think that she would have been thanking me to the end of the world and back. Nope. All she did was try to blame it all on me.”
We both just sat there for another couple moments while she gathered her thoughts and prepared to continue.
“So that brings us to poor schmuck number 4. This one lasted just over a year. He was actually an okay guy. Handsome, well spoken, treated me alright and everything. We even had a little bit of chemistry and actually spoke to each other sometimes. But still, it was a readymade family with an 18-year-old daughter he inherited. Not the best thing in the world, but coulda been way worse. So, anyhow, I go to my senior prom and get totally wasted. My date was a true gentleman and drove me home, didn’t even try to take advantage of me or nuthin. He dragged me to my room and off he went. An hour later, I got up to puke my guts out and went to the kitchen for a drink of water. Low and behold, my mom was fucking my true gentleman for all she was worth on the couch.”
She was actually laughing at this point. I don’t think she thought it was funny, but more due to the irony of it. However, she was getting ready to drop the bomb big time.
“Funny thing is, my mom couldn’t figure out why I was mad. She tried to tell me that it’s not like the guy was my boyfriend or anything, we just went to the prom together. So, terrible person I am, I ended up seducing and fucking her husband. I recorded that one on the video camera too. He felt guilty and confessed that it happened. He was cool about it though and didn’t try to blame it all on me. He knew it was a 2-way street. She begged him to stay, pleading that it wasn’t his fault. She was one seriously desperate bitch at this point. He packed his shit and left. So…now you can see why we’re at each other’s throats all the time. “
I sat there for a minute, digesting all she’s told me. I looked at her trying to figure out how she’s still able to exhibit such a call demeanor.
“With all this terrible stuff you’ve experienced, why am I building an apartment in your basement for you to live in? Why are you still here and not out looking to start your own life?
She thought about it for a moment and then her eyes welled up. We squeezed each other’s hand a little harder and she coughed a bit before she spoke.
“That’s the single thing I can’t get past. It’s like a battered woman who never can leave her abusive husband. She’s always searching for that acceptance. I guess I keep giving false hopes that one day, my mom is actually going show interest and…be my mom.”
She suddenly realized how much she just poured her heart and showed a bit of embarrassment. She pulled her hand back and looked at me with an awkward expression on her face. She wiped the moisture from her eyes.
“Jesus, look at me, rambling on like an idiot. I’m sorry, you’re not even my shrink or esenyurt eve gelen escort anything.”
She got up and went to her room and shut the door. I felt bad for her but didn’t want to step out of bounds and go after her. I sat there for a few minutes before going back to work. The next day, I arrived just in time to hear Maggie screaming again. This time I confronted her. I told her to be gone during my work hours, and that I was sick of listening to her bitchy attitude.
She threatened to fire me and I figured I would call her out on it. I told her I would pack my shit, collect the money for the work I’ve already completed and split, leaving the job incomplete. Sure enough, she saw things my way and I didn’t see her for about a week. It wasn’t until a crazy situation occurred that it all started up again. I didn’t see much of Tarrah either as she was busy with summer college classes and her part time job. When she was home though, I was treated to plenty of spandex and lots of perverted thoughts. She wasn’t shy about parading herself around, with her body squeezed within the tight clothing. I greatly enjoyed it.
On this particular day, I heard her come home, but didn’t see her as my head was inside the cabinets. A bit later, I went looking for her to ask a question, but couldn’t find her. I heard some noises from her mother’s bedroom and peeked in the partially open doorway. My heart skipped a beat as my balls tingled at the scene playing out before me.
Tarrah was on her back on her mother’s bed. Lying next to her, was a black boy, laying on his side, facing her. Tarrah’s skirt was hiked up to her hips and legs spread. She moaned and groaned while the boy was finger fucking the shit outta her. Simultaneously, she had her fingers wrapped around his cock, jerking him off while his pants were down at his ankles. Her shirt was pulled up and he was sucking her hard nipples with nasty sucking sounds. My cock was hard instantly and I even considered jerkin off right there.
Good thing I didn’t because I heard the front door open and close and realized that Maggie was home. I quickly retreated to the hallway bathroom and eased the door partially closed. Maggie made a beeline for her room and threw the door open, almost knocking it from its hinges.
“Holy shit! What the fuck is going on here? Why are you in my bed with a boy? And why are you even with a black boy anyhow?”
She stomped over and started hitting him with her purse while he was frantically trying to pull his pants up and get the hell outta dodge. Once he was clear of her reach, he took off like a bat outta hell and was gone. The screaming ensued.
“Why are you constantly doing things to bring negative attention to yourself. All you do is stuff to get me mad. What is wrong with you?”
I was impressed with Tarrah’s reply, because she didn’t yell or scream. She composed herself and stated the facts according to things she has experienced.
“Because mom, the negative attention is the only kind I get from you. If, one day, you suddenly stopped yelling and screaming at me, I wouldn’t get any attention from you at all. But you never thought about that, did you? All you see is a daughter who has inconvenienced the lifestyle you think you deserve. How about showing me some love and attention and actually play the part of being a real mother for a change.”
Yes, quite impressive. This kid just exhibited great restraint and showed a great deal of maturity and poise. I heard her hop from the bed and go into her room. She didn’t even slam the door, just closed it and locked it behind her. I heard some slight sobbing coming from Maggie’s room and the she shut her door too. I quietly escaped from the bathroom and gathered up a few tools and went home.
Over the next week the job was getting finished and I had plans to meet with Maggie upon completion. She was going to meet me at 3pm and make sure everything met her approval or inform me of any concerns she may have. Still, I wasn’t seeing Tarrah very much, but when she was present, it made my heart flutter. We spoke briefly here and there, but nothing was said about the most recent incident with the black boy.
On Wednesday, I showed up in the morning to do some final cleaning up, prior to my meeting with Maggie. Tarrah came out of her room, wearing a sports bra and some tight spandex workout shorts. Of course, the material hugged her generous curves with a very sexy way. Both pieces were stretched to the max, in an attempt to keep her curvy body parts restrained. It looked as if they might be a size too small, but my cock sure enjoyed the view. Her hair was still damp and pulled back in a big pony tail, with wisps of bangs dangling in her face. She was hot. I also noticed she was sucking on a lollipop which had made her tongue bright green. She wasn’t sucking it in an overly seductively manner, but with just enough noise and emphasis that she certainly wanted me to notice.
And boy, I sure did. I was trying to clean stuff up, but she kept circling around the kitchen, just working hard to be seen. She kept looking at me, almost as if she wanted me to say something. Finally, she sat down at the breakfast bar in one of the stools. She was sitting sideways in the stool, with her arm leaning on the bar and her body semi reclined. She slurped one last nasty slurp before she finally spoke. “Hey mister, did it make you get a boner?”
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