I will shortly be adding the full ” Diary of a miserable worm” collection to my own site Felixtheworm.com Here is a short excerpt from my latest works……………..
The invoice for the decorating work that was taking place recently hit my desk this morning. My immediate reaction on seeing the total was that they must have misplaced a decimal point somewhere, the cost was outrageous, and in no way matched up with the quote that I had been given by them. They are a family business who has done work for us before, so I re-checked the figures before giving them a call. Ensuring that I had the facts, I dialled their number.
Geoff, the head of the family answered, and I explained the problem.
“It appears that either your quote for materials was wildly under estimated, or your invoice is wrong, Geoff”, I explain.
We haggle a little, with Geoff citing the VAT rise, inability to get the exact paint match, the rise in cost of blah, blah, blah (you get the picture), but eventually says that he will send over the receipts and invoices with his number two, George, so that I can see that we are not being ripped off. George would have been coming over anyway to check over the decorations and make sure that all is to Miss Hybrid’s satisfaction.
“Okay, Geoff. I’m sure we can come to some agreement”, I say, “When can George get here?”
“Later this morning”, is the reply, “around 10:30 to 11:00, if that’s okay”
“That’s great. Thanks Geoff”, I say and I hang up.
About an hour later Miss Hybrid appears.
“I’m off out for a while. A friend of mine has asked me to take some pictures of her, so I may be some time”.
“I have George from the decorators coming in a little while”, I say, “is there anything I need him to look at while he’s here? Anything that was not done to your satisfaction?”
“Yes. There’s a bit of skirting that was missed at the far end and a bit of the coving was not refilled before painting just above that. I’ll see you later”, she says as she shuts the door behind her.
It’s about ten to eleven when I hear a motorbike crunching its way up the gravel driveway. Rather than keeping George waiting, I get up and head for the front door, reaching it just as the doorbell rings. The open door reveals a shortish guy in decorator’s overalls and a large black helmet, holding a battered brown briefcase.
“My father says you’ll find the receipts in here”, says a rather muffled voice pitched a little higher than I expected, passing me the case.
“Can I take your helmet”, I ask.
“Thanks”, comes the reply.
The headgear is removed to reveal the face of a rather stunning young woman sporting short auburn hair. A few freckles dust her petite nose, and you could get lost in her large green eyes. She thrusts the helmet at me as she looks around.
“Dad asked me to document any required snagging and then to go through the receipts with you”, she states, “I do all the accounts for him, which is why he sent me”.
“Ah”, I say, a little taken aback, “I was expecting George”
“That’s me”, she says, “Georgina. But everyone calls me George”
“Hi George, I’m Felix”, I introduce myself, extending a hand.
She grasps my hand firmly, but not too tight.
“There are only a couple of things”, I say, “If you would like to follow me”.
“Do you mind if I take these overalls off?”, she asks, “I just wore them on the bike to keep the wind off”
“Of course”, I reply.
She removes her biker’s boots first and then pulls down the zip on the paint splattered jumpsuit and shrugs it off her shoulders. Her light blue t-shirt, embossed with the outline of her bra, is emblazoned with the slogan “I’m Up Here” with a large arrow pointing upwards passing between her ample tits. She steps out of the overalls and recovers a small pair of black ballerina style shoes from the pockets, which she quickly slips onto her feet. Her dark blue skirt stops a little lower than mid-thigh, and is slightly rumpled from being crushed inside the overalls, but looks smart nevertheless.
I place the boots and overalls into the hall cupboard and then lead her out. We stop at the offending skirting board and I point out the lack of finish. I stand back as she bends over for a closer look. The back of her skirt rides up to reveal the tops of her holdups.
She fishes a small notepad out of a pocket in her skirt and makes jots something down.
“The coving just above should have been fixed before it was painted as well”, I point out.
“I’m going to need a closer look”, she says as she looks up. ”Do you have a ladder handy?”
As it happens, Andy left his in the hall earlier as he was changing the bulbs in the chandelier, so I nip back and bring it through. I set it up in the correct place and step back.
“You’ll have to hold it for me while I climb up”, she says.
Being a gentleman, I keep my eyes firmly on the steps in front of me, resisting the urge to look up.
“IDOITS!”, exclaims George
I look up instinctively, getting an eyeful of silky smooth pussy, where her black g-string has disappeared. I lick my lips as I try to gather myself.
“What’s up?”, I ask.
“They did fill it, they just didn’t wait for it to dry before painting again”, she answers, “Dolts. I’ll send them back in a couple of days to sort that out. It’ll just take 5 minutes to fill, and then they can return the next day to repaint”.
She looks down at me and I notice a flicker of a smile on her lips. She hooks a finger into her panties and slowly pulls them free of her cunt. She runs her fingertip along her slit and removes it, climbs back down the ladder so that her head is level with mine and very deliberately sucks her finger, just inches from my face.
“Right”, she says as she steps down as if nothing has happened, “let’s have a look at these receipts then, shall we”.
Continued in Miss Hybrid’s Site.