anti-climatic climax (or replacing a faucet)

Two days and three trips to Canadian Tire to remove the old faucet. 15 minutes to install the new one. I felt cheated. A rather Anti-climatic finish to an arduous task that involved a Dremel, a plumber's wrench, pliers, WD-40, towels, deep sockets, ratchet extensions and a rather colourful sprinkling of profanities for good measure. The sparks were pretty, although the safety glasses didn't prevent singed hair. A good old fashion cap turned backwards did the trick.

She sucked my cock after wards. On her knees on the kitchen floor. In front of the window with the blinds open to allow the sun shine to fall upon the plants on the sill. And spill across her red hair. My cock was soft at first as she stroked it with her lips. It glistened with her spit and slid easily in and out of her mouth. Her eyes smouldered with a deep green fire that spoke of gratitude and lust. I didn't cum that time. I did later that night, exploding inside her as her thighs gripped my waist as tight as a wrestler's hold.

"Thank you Master", she whispered in my ear as I held her, our bodies shuddering in unison. I breathed in her hair and her scent from her neck. She dragged her nails down my back and dug them into the back of my thighs.
"I will keep you inside me tonight. Thank you"