I had better be honest from the start I think. My family, (British) are what you may call privileged. We are wealthy enough to afford private health and education, and I lead a somewhat sheltered life being at boarding school most of the year, and living in our home in the south of France during the long au,met vacation, or skiing in the winter months.
This concerns our home in the UK which, when we returned to it, we discovered we had a leak of water.
So, my father engaged the services of a plumber.
The first thing to note was that he was quite young, late 20s if I had to hazard a guess. I would not say that he was abundantly good looking, but he was, not to put too finer point on it, sweaty, and he also had quite a good line in vocabulary.
It happened that I was home alone with this man and after letting him explore where the leak was coming from, I got to hear his diagnosis.
"It's a right fucking mess up there, love. Whoever fitted that expansion tank was a right twat." so saying, he cheerily stomped off to his van for the requisite spares.
I stood there shocked to my core. More than shocked, actually. I was, between my legs, soaked. Not only his sweaty odour, but I have always yearned to hear a man use language like that.
When he came back, he told me he would be in the loft for about an hour. My bedroom was only one thin plasterboard wall away from where he would be working.
"It's like a fucking oven up there too. Too fucking hot for all this." And so saying he stripped his overalls down to his waist, slipped off his t shirt and climbed back through the access door into the loft. I had a semi naked, earthy smelling foul mouthed man inches away from the head of my bed!
Well, what's a girl to do?
I locked my door, stripped to my bra and panties, and lay on my bed and began a gentle stroking...taking the occasional sniff of the t shirt I told him I would put in the kitchen for him.
Meanwhile, through the wall....
"Fuck......what a bloody mess this is.... Shit..... Common you fucking thing."
By now, I had a river between my legs, and I was flowing more with him abusing me with all that talk. I got close to cumming several times, but held off until he was struggling with something, and shouted. "WILL YOU FUCKING COME ON, YOU FUCKING THING"
The orgasm made me pass out. His sweaty t shirt helped me to imagine he was on me and in me (not that anyone has been yet) I came so hard that I am afraid to report that I urinated.
I had two more orgasms to his foul mouth before he had finished, and my clit was too sore to continue.
A bit of rough, I believe it is called.
I can think of worse ways to lose ones cherry.
He asked to wash his hands and I directed him to the bathroom. How I hope he took the opportunity to rummage in the laundry hamper. He was in there a while, so who knows.