oh no not pete

There’s a knock at my door and I’m upstairs. Your musical voice rings out: “I’ll get it!~”

I’m kind of busy with my head in my phone and frankly I’m kind of on the loo, so I don’t think twice about it.

Then it hits me. Something terrible is about to happen.

I scramble down the stairs, still buttoning up jeans and jangling as the buckle of my belt flies about wildly. “Coming!” I call out over the thumping of my footsteps.

My hallway is narrow and you are getting close to filling it. You actually fill it when you’ve manoeuvred a man between your belly and the wall. I don’t know on what pretext, but you and he both look at me as I skid into view. He’s overwhelmed and maybe expects me to be angry at the compromising position you’ve put him in. You’re playing at coquettish. I can see the mischief in your eyes.

“This is Paul the plumber,” you say, innocent as a heart attack. “He’s here to fix my pipes.”

Paul is basically half-enveloped already. You feel him as a topology of pressure, firmly pushing back the middle of your belly, yielding more to the sides so your feet-thick layer of belly padding squishes around him almost possessively. Your breasts are particularly hard to ignore. They are weapons moulding to him.

God, your breasts. They could smother.

I speak urgently. “This way please, Paul. The problem’s in the loft. Just… squeeze this way.”

He does, gratefully extracting himself from a situation he does not understand. I catch his lingering glance at you as he disappears from sight. Covetous but so very puzzled.

You make to follow, already licking your lips, but find me blocking the stairs, a stern look on my face. “Not him.”

I watch incredulity blossom on your face. “This is the line you draw? You fed me your wife!”

I take a step towards you. The faint crinkle of amusement in the corner of my eyes is the only indication I’ve not undergone a total personality transplant. “It is impossible to find a good plumber.” I raise a hand and count off three conditions. “Pete is sacrosanct unless you eat me,you eat my boiler, or we skip town.”