A Torrid Martian Night

"Buzz, buzz"

She woke up to the loud buzzing of her airlock door. Her clothes were soaked with sweat in the torrid Martian night, and clung to her young, toned body like a sloth to a tree branch. She stood up, her long, bronzed legs glistening in the humid darkness.

"Who is it?"

"Ventilation repair, ma'am," replied a deep, husky voice beyond the door. "You called for service?"

"Yes I did," she said, as she pressed the airlock button to open it. The hot, dry Martian air rushed in, blowing her luxurious blonde hair back like in a shampoo ad. Blinded for a moment by the brightness outside, her eyes adjusted and she beheld the man beyond the airlock door.

"Evening, ma'am. I'm here to fix your duct problem." The repairman stood at the threshold, the outline of his broad shoulders and muscular arms showing through his gray coveralls. A short stubble covered his square, chiseled chin like the fur of an angry cat. He looked at her with deep, piercing blue eyes framed by tousled locks of blonde hair.

"Yes, come in," she said, arching her back and accentuating her ample bosom. "Follow me, I'll show you where it is." She turned around and walked slowly, her full, curvy hips swaying like the lamps at the cathedral of Pisa. She looked back to see that his eyes were following her intently as they walked into her apartment.

"It's in here," she said, pointing to a metal air grate on the wall near the floor of the kitchen. She swished her hair left and right, and tiny droplets of sweat fell off it. "It's been sooo hot in here, it's hard to think straight."

"Yes ma'am, I'll fix it for you right away." He bent over, and his coveralls stretched and clung to his firm buttocks. He grabbed the grate with his large hands and his muscular arms bulged as he pulled it off the wall. Sweat began to soak his hair and clothes, and his coveralls stuck to his well-toned body. He put his head in the vent and looked around.

"Here's your problem ma'am." He pointed to something inside the vent. "There's a giant dust bunny jammed in your vent."

"Oh dear, how did that get jammed so deep in there?" She leaned forward to get a look in the vent, her arms crossed under her damp, shapely chest. "How do we ever get it out?"

"Don't worry, ma'am, I have just the tool for the job." He pulled out a thick, hard rod out of his toolbox. "I'll ram this tube into your vent, and it will suck it right out." He connected the tube to a small device, and it sucked the dust out of the vent in short sharp bursts.

"Ooh, your tool is so powerful," she said, her cheeks flushing as the device sucked the dust in short, powerful pulses. "It's sucking the dust so hard."

"Yes ma'am. It always does its job." He moved the tube around the vent, sucking out every remnant of dust jammed in it. When he was done, he pulled it out slowly and put it on the floor.

"That should do it, ma'am, you should have no more problems."

"Thank you very much, mister," she said as she gazed into his deep blue eyes. "But oh, I don't have any money on me right now. Whatever shall I do?" She moved close to him, the smell of her sweat mingled with his.

"Don't worry, ma'am, I'm sure we can work something out," he said as he looked deeply into her pleading eyes.

"Sign, here, here, and here, ma'am," as he pointed at the requisite sections of Form 306.1B Deferred Payments for Ventilation Maintenance. "I'll take it to the office and file it with accounting."

"Thanks, mister," she said as she signed the form. She finished and handed it over to the repairman.

"Thank you, ma'am, for calling the Martian Ventilation Company. I hope you have a good night." He steps out of the airlock door and into the torrid Martian night.