Taboo Handyman: Forbidden Loft Heat 💋

Unexpected Heat in the Urban Loft

In the heart of the bustling city, Sophia lounged on her velvet chaise in the sun-drenched loft, the scent of fresh rain mingling with the faint aroma of her jasmine candle. Divorced for nearly two years now, she’d traded the suburban sprawl for this high-rise haven, a space screaming for updates that her ex had always promised but never delivered. Her fingers idly traced the rim of a coffee mug as she scrolled through her phone, frustration bubbling up. The leaky faucet in the kitchen dripped like a metronome of annoyance, and the creaky floorboards in the hallway begged for reinforcement.

Rebecca, her sharp-witted colleague from the marketing firm, had dropped a name during lunch the other day—her nephew, Liam, who ran a freelance renovation gig. “He’s got that rugged charm,” Rebecca had chuckled, “and he’s single, too. Might make the job less boring.” Sophia had laughed it off, but the idea lingered, a spark in her otherwise routine days. At 45, with curves that turned heads and a cascade of raven hair framing her olive skin, she wasn’t blind to her allure. Lately, her nights had been filled with restless dreams, her body craving the touch she’d denied herself since the split.

By mid-afternoon, she’d texted Rebecca, and within hours, Liam confirmed he’d swing by. As the elevator hummed to her floor, Sophia adjusted her fitted blouse, the fabric hugging her full breasts, nipples faintly outlined against the silk. No bra today—why not feel a little alive? The door buzzed, and there he stood: early thirties, broad-shouldered with sun-kissed blond hair tousled from the wind, tattoos snaking up his forearms like whispered secrets. His work boots scuffed the mat, and those piercing blue eyes met hers with a casual intensity that made her pulse quicken.

“Sophia? Rebecca’s friend? I’m Liam,” he said, voice gravelly from the city’s hum outside. He extended a calloused hand, his grip firm, sending a jolt through her. She led him inside, the loft’s exposed brick walls echoing their steps, the distant honk of traffic filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Chapter 1: Shadows of Desire

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The Inspection

Liam knelt by the kitchen sink, toolbox clattering open, the metallic tang of tools mixing with the faint citrus of Sophia’s perfume. She watched from the island counter, legs crossed in her yoga pants that clung to her hips like a second skin. His jeans stretched taut over muscled thighs as he twisted a wrench, sweat beading on his neck despite the cool AC hum.

“This place has character,” he murmured, glancing up. His eyes dipped briefly to the swell of her chest, where her blouse gapped just enough to tease. Sophia felt heat bloom between her thighs, a slick warmth she hadn’t anticipated. “But yeah, the plumbing’s shot. Floors too. I can quote you tomorrow—start Friday if you’re good.”

She nodded, pouring him water, their fingers brushing. Electricity. “Take your time assessing. I want it thorough.” Her voice held a husky edge, unintended but thrilling. As he moved to the hallway, she followed, the floor groaning underfoot. He tested a board, his body close enough that she caught the earthy scent of his skin, mixed with sawdust from past jobs.

By the time he left, promising a call, Sophia’s body thrummed. She locked the door, leaning against it, hand slipping under her waistband. The cool tile floor met her bare feet as she stripped, fingers circling her swollen clit, imagining those strong hands on her instead. Her breaths came ragged, the city lights flickering outside as she chased release, whispering his name into the empty air. Orgasm crashed like thunder, leaving her spent but hungry for more.

A Restless Night

Sleep evaded her that night. The loft’s shadows danced on the walls, rain pattering against the glass. Sophia tossed in silk sheets, her mind replaying Liam’s form—the way his shirt clung to his chest, outlining pecs honed from labor. She reached for her nightstand drawer, pulling out a sleek vibrator, its hum filling the quiet. Pressing it to her folds, she arched, tasting salt on her lips from biting back moans. Fantasies swirled: him pinning her against the brick, rough and unrelenting. She came twice, body quivering, but the ache persisted.

Morning brought his text: quote attached, reasonable. He could start at dawn. Sophia’s boss had already approved her “personal days”—a week to oversee the work, or so she claimed. Truth was, the proximity excited her, a dangerous flirtation with the forbidden. Rebecca’s nephew? It added a taboo edge, like stealing fire from family ties.

Chapter 2: Simmering Sparks

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The First Day’s Tease

Friday dawned gray, thunder rumbling as Liam arrived, toolbox in hand. Sophia greeted him in a cropped tank and shorts that rode high on her thighs, her dark hair loose and wild. His eyes lingered on her exposed midriff, the curve of her hips. “Morning,” he said, voice low. “Ready to make some noise?”

She smirked. “As long as it’s the good kind.” The double entendre hung, but he just grinned, diving into the kitchen demo. Hammers echoed, dust motes swirling in the light. Sophia pretended to work from her laptop nearby, but her gaze drifted to the flex of his biceps, the sheen of sweat on his brow. The air thickened with the scent of plaster and his musk.

She brought him coffee mid-morning, bending low to set it down, her tank dipping to reveal the lace edge of her bralette. Liam’s throat bobbed, his work pants tenting slightly. “Appreciate it,” he muttered, eyes meeting hers with heat. Throughout the day, she “checked in”—once in the hallway, brushing against him in the narrow space; another time offering lunch, their knees touching under the table.

By evening, as he packed up, the loft smelled of fresh wood and exertion. “Two more days, tops,” he said, wiping his forehead. Sophia nodded, her skin flushed. “Stay hydrated. It’s brutal out there.” Alone again, she stripped under the shower’s hot spray, soaping her breasts, pinching nipples until they ached. Fingers delved into her soaked core, the water masking her gasps as she imagined his mouth there, devouring her. Release came fierce, walls clenching around nothing.

Whispers in the Rain

That night, a storm raged, lightning illuminating the loft. Sophia paced, phone in hand, tempted to text him. Instead, she poured wine, the tart liquid warming her veins. Memories of his touch—accidental brushes—ignited her. She sprawled on the couch, legs spread, toy buzzing against her clit while rain lashed the windows. “Fuck, Liam,” she groaned, hips bucking. Climax ripped through her, leaving tremors, but sleep brought dreams of his body over hers, relentless and raw.

Saturday blurred into work. Liam hammered away, shirtless now in the heat, tattoos glistening. Sophia wore a sundress, thin straps slipping off shoulders, no panties beneath—the breeze from the open window teasing her bare slit. She caught him staring as she stretched for a high shelf, dress hiking up to flash smooth skin. His jaw tightened, a visible bulge straining his jeans.

“Need a break?” she asked, voice sultry. He nodded, following her to the balcony. City lights twinkled below, rain-scented air cool. They leaned on the rail, shoulders touching. “This place suits you,” he said. “Vibrant. Like you.” Her laugh was breathy. “Flattery from the help?” His eyes darkened. “Not flattery. Truth.” Tension crackled, unspoken promises in the downpour.

Chapter 3: Breaking Point

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The Final Push

Sunday, the last day. Liam worked with focus, but the air hummed with anticipation. Sophia chose a skimpy robe over lingerie, the silk whispering against her skin. She “accidentally” dropped tools, bending to retrieve them, ass peeking from the hem. Liam’s breaths grew labored, his erection impossible to hide.

As he finished the floors, sanding smooth, she approached with iced tea, robe loose. “All done?” He stood, towering, sweat-slicked chest heaving. “Yeah. Check?” She stepped close, the scent of his arousal mixing with pine from the wood. “Looks perfect.” Her hand grazed his arm, electric.

In the kitchen, writing his check, she leaned in. “Seeing anyone, Liam?” He shook his head, eyes on her cleavage. “Not lately. You?” “Free as a bird.” Boldness surged. “Ever thought about… complications? Like with a friend’s relative?” His laugh was rough. “Rebecca? She’d kill me. But you… you’ve been driving me crazy all week, Sophia. That dress yesterday? Fuck.”

She closed the gap, robe parting to reveal lace-clad curves. “Then do something about it.” His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush. Lips crashed, hungry, tongues tangling with coffee bitterness and desire. He tasted like salt and need, hands roaming to cup her ass, squeezing firm flesh. 💋

Kitchen Inferno

No words now—just raw urge. Liam lifted her onto the counter, robe falling open. Her breasts spilled free as he yanked down the lace, mouth latching onto a nipple, sucking hard. Sophia moaned, the cool marble biting her skin, his stubble scraping deliciously. “God, yes,” she gasped, fingers in his hair.

He dropped to knees, shoving her thighs apart. The loft’s ambient hum faded to her pounding heart. His breath hot on her mound, he inhaled deeply. “You smell like sin,” he growled, tongue flicking her clit through soaked panties. She whimpered, fabric tearing under his grip. Exposed, her slick folds glistened. He dove in, lapping broad strokes, savoring her tangy essence. Fingers parted her, two plunging deep, curling against that spot that made stars burst.

“Liam… fuck, don’t stop!” Thunder outside mirrored her building storm. His mouth worked relentlessly, sucking her pearl, tongue thrusting like a promise of more. Orgasm hit like lightning, body convulsing, juices flooding his chin. He rose, lips shiny, kissing her fiercely so she tasted herself—musky, intoxicating.

“Bedroom,” she demanded, sliding down, palming his rock-hard cock through denim. It throbbed, massive, straining. They stumbled down the hall, clothes shedding like inhibitions. His shirt hit the floor, revealing chiseled abs etched with ink. Jeans pooled, freeing his thick length—veined, nine inches of pulsing heat, pre-cum beading at the tip.

Sophia pushed him onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. Straddling his thighs, she stroked him, skin velvet over steel. “So big,” she purred, thumb circling the head, smearing slickness. He groaned, hips bucking. Leaning down, she licked from base to tip, savoring the salty tang, balls heavy against her chin as she sucked them gently.

Then, mouth wide, she took him deep, throat relaxing to swallow half. Gags turned to moans as she bobbed, hand pumping the rest. “Shit, Sophia… your mouth’s a furnace.” Saliva dripped, messy and primal. His fingers tangled in her hair, guiding but not forcing. Tension coiled; he warned, “Gonna come…” She hummed, vibrations pushing him over. Hot spurts coated her tongue, thick and endless. She swallowed every drop, milking him dry, eyes locked on his blissed-out face.

“Women my age don’t do that,” he panted. “They tease. You? You devour.” She grinned, wiping her lips. “That’s the difference, kid. I take what I want.”

Chapter 4: Depths of Ecstasy

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Claiming Her

Liam flipped her onto her back, the sheets cool against fevered skin. “My turn to wreck you.” His mouth trailed fire down her neck, nipping collarbones, then feasting on breasts—tonguing nipples until they pebbled like diamonds. Sophia arched, nails raking his back, drawing red lines. The pain spurred him, bites marking her flesh.

He kissed lower, over quivering belly to her core. Already drenched, he spread her wide, inhaling her arousal—heady, feminine. Tongue delved, fucking her hole before circling her clit with feather-light flicks. “So wet for me,” he murmured against her, vibrations humming. Fingers joined, three stretching her, scissoring to hit every nerve.

She writhed, the bed creaking like the floors he’d fixed. “Eat me, Liam… make me scream.” He obliged, sucking hard, nose grinding her mound. Build-up was torture—edging her twice before letting go. Climax shattered her, walls fluttering, a gush soaking his face. He lapped it up, growling approval. 🔥

Positioning above, his cock nudged her entrance, thick head parting lips. “Ready?” Inch by inch, he sank in, her tightness gripping like a vice. “Fuck, you’re snug… like you were made for this dick.” Sophia gasped, fullness bordering pain-pleasure, legs wrapping his waist. He bottomed out, balls slapping her ass, then withdrew slow, slamming back.

Rhythm built—deep, punishing thrusts shaking the frame. Skin slapped skin, wet and obscene. “Harder!” she begged, heels digging in. He pounded, one hand pinning her wrists, the other rubbing her clit. Sweat slicked their bodies, the room reeking of sex—musk, salt, raw need.

“Gonna fill you,” he grunted, pace frantic. “Where do you want it?” “Inside! Breed this pussy!” Her words ignited him. Orgasm tore through her first, milking him, cries echoing off brick. He followed, roaring as ropes of cum painted her depths, hot and copious. They collapsed, joined, aftershocks pulsing.

Riding the Wave

Minutes later, still hard inside her, Liam rolled them so she straddled. “Ride me, Sophia. Show me how you take control.” She did, rising and falling, breasts bouncing hypnotically. His hands kneaded them, pinching peaks, sending jolts straight to her core. The angle hit her G-spot perfectly, sparks igniting with each grind.

Exhausted, they tangled, breaths syncing. “That was… intense,” he whispered, kissing her shoulder. She smiled, tracing his tattoos. “Just the beginning.”

Chapter 5: Endless Flames

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Balcony Surrender

They didn’t stop. Hours blurred into a haze of flesh and fervor. After a shower—where he took her against the tiles, water cascading over joined bodies, her screams muffled by steam—Sophia led him to the balcony. Night had fallen, city glow below, rain a soft veil.

Bent over the rail, dress hiked, she presented herself. Liam entered from behind, hands on her hips, thrusting with feral need. The cool air kissed her skin, contrasting his heat. “Anyone could see,” she moaned, thrill heightening. He spanked her ass, the sting blooming red. “Let them watch you get railed.”

His fingers found her clit, rubbing circles as he plunged, cock dragging her walls. She came hard, biting her lip to stifle cries, body shaking. He pulled out, spinning her, lifting one leg to re-enter facing the void. Cum splashed her breasts when he withdrew, marking her as his. She rubbed it in, tasting a drop—bitter, addictive.

Weekend Bind

Monday loomed, but they ignored it. Liam stayed, the loft their playground. In the kitchen, she knelt, sucking him under the counter while he “fixed” a nonexistent leak, his groans mixing with the drip. Afternoon brought bondage play—her wrists tied with his belt to the headboard, him teasing her with ice from the freezer, melting trails over nipples, down to her throbbing cunt. Tongue and fingers brought her to edge after edge, until she begged, “Fuck me raw!”

He did, missionary deep, eyes locked. “You’re mine this weekend,” he growled. Orgasms synced, her nails drawing blood, his seed flooding her once more. Evenings were tender—cuddling on the couch, his head between her thighs for lazy licks, her mouth on him in return. Dialogues turned crude: “Your cock’s ruining me for anyone else.” “Good. This pussy’s addicted to my cum.”

By Sunday night, sated and sore, they lay entwined. “Come back anytime,” she murmured. “Not for repairs.” He chuckled, nipping her ear. “Deal. Rebecca never has to know.” As he dressed, she watched, body humming with afterglow. The door clicked shut, but the heat lingered—a promise of stolen nights, no strings, just pure, unbridled passion in the city’s shadow.

The loft felt alive now, echoes of their moans in every corner. Sophia smiled, already plotting the next “project.” Life post-divorce? Better than she’d imagined.