Currents of Desire

Paul Myers had been an electrician for over a decade, and in that time, he’d seen just about every kind of wiring disaster imaginable. But when his boss forwarded him a private job request - a last-minute electrical inspection in a high-rise Perth CBD apartment on Mounts Bay Road - he hadn’t expected that things would turn out like they eventually did.

Dr. Amanda Pereira. Fifty years old, sharp as a whip, and visiting from Sydney for a semester as a guest lecturer at UWA. When she opened the door, Paul felt an immediate jolt - not the kind that came from faulty wiring, but the kind that made his pulse spike.

She was dressed in a crisp white blouse and tailored black slacks, her dark hair streaked and pulled into a loose knot. Her hazel eyes assessed him with an academic’s precision.

"You’re the electrician?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Paul Masters," he said, wiping his palm on his work pants before extending his hand. "Fremantle Electrics."

Her grip was firm, her skin smooth. "Amanda Pereira. Come in."

The apartment was sleek - minimalist furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows framing the glittering Perth skyline. The kind of place that made a blue-collar guy like Paul feel out of his depth. There were a couple of suitcases on the floor with a vanity bag full of toiletries. But he wasn’t here to admire the view nor concern himself with the travel bags. He was here to work.

She led him to the study, where a desk lamp flickered erratically. "It’s not just this," she said. "The bedroom outlets are temperamental too. These were meant to be fixed before I arrived from over east according to the estate manager from the agency.”

Paul nodded, setting down his toolbox. "Probably an overloaded circuit or a loose neutral. I’ll check the switchboard first."

As he worked, he was acutely aware of her presence. She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching him with quiet amusement.

"You’re not like most tradies," she remarked.

He smirked. "How’s that?"

"You’re… precise. Most just slap some tape on it and call it a day."

Paul chuckled. "I take pride in my work."

She hummed in approval.

After fixing the circuit, Amanda handed him a coffee - black, no sugar. It was the instant kind that came in sachets and which only need hot water to be added, courtesy of Amanda’s welcome pack.

He didn’t mind it as that’s how he liked his coffee. He was also thankful that at least the gas supply in the kitchen was working. It could not have been an electrical kettle as he had turned off the mains, he thought to himself as a chuckle escaped his lips.

"So," she said, settling onto the sofa, "what’s a guy like you doing in Fremantle?"

"Born and raised," he said, taking a seat opposite her. "Family’s there. Good work. Quiet life."

She studied him. "Ever think about leaving?"

"Sometimes. But I like knowing everyone at the local pub."

She laughed, and the sound was warm, rich. Then, out of nowhere:

"What do you think of Jim Chalmers?"

Paul blinked. Politics. Dangerous territory. But he wasn’t one to dodge a question.

"Smart guy. Handled the economy better than most expected. Not perfect, but who is?"

Her lips curved slightly. "And Donald Trump?"

Paul took a slow sip of coffee. "Bit of a circus, isn’t he? I don’t mind confidence, but the man’s a walking liability."

Amanda’s eyes gleamed. "Interesting."

The conversation shifted - books, travel, the differences between Sydney and Fremantle. The more they talked, the more the air between them charged with something unspoken.

By the time he finished the job, the sun had dipped below the skyline, painting the apartment in gold and shadow.

"You’re not in a rush, are you?" Amanda asked, refilling his coffee.

Paul glanced at his watch. "I best be going, too late to cook…I’ll just pick up dinner from HJ’s."

She stepped closer. "Stay.”

One word. That’s all it took.

And if that word wasn’t enough, she tip toed and leaned in to plant her lips onto his. That in itself was an amazing feat considering she was 5 feet 4 and he was more than a foot taller.

Her kiss was electric - firm, demanding. Paul’s hands found her waist, pulling her against him. She tasted like coffee and something darker, more intoxicating. In fact she tasted just like she looked - a dusky, mocha coloured and raven haired beauty.

They stumbled toward the bedroom, shedding clothes, inhibitions, everything. Her fingers traced the contours of his chest, his shoulders, his calloused hands.

"You’re stronger than you look," she murmured.

He smirked. "Comes with the job."

She pushed him onto the bare bed that was without any sheets nor pillows, climbing over him with the confidence of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. And what she wanted was him.

Soon when the final pieces of clothing were done away with, he took another look at her. She had obviously undergone motherhood judging from the stretch marks across her tanned belly.

“Disappointed?” she asked with pleading eye yet hoping for a positive response.

“On the contrary, I’m intrigued…all these marks and that mole and this caesarean delivery scar tells a story about you…and I want to know everything.” he replied.

Amanda put her finger to his lips and whispered, “Shhh, you can find out all you want in other forms…starting right now.” - as she pushed him on his back and lowered herself so that her face was in line with his crotch.

Suddenly, he felt a warm and moist glove like sensation around his manhood. Looking down, his eyes were met with hers furrowing back at him. When he felt he was hard enough, he swapped positions and got on top. His mouth zeroed in on a tit as his other hand found the apex of her legs. He commenced to tease her stiff nipple with his tongue as his two fingers entered her sloppy pussy.

They made love in all positions culminating with her on all fours as he jack hammered into her whilst his thumb traced and shallowly entered her sphincter. Hearing her moan sent him over the edge and he exploded inside of her. He collapsed on the top of her back, spent and exhausted. Somehow, they were both sweating despite the windows being opened in the month of July.

Afterward, they lay tangled in the sheets, the city lights flickering beyond the window. Amanda traced idle circles on his chest.

"You passed the test," she said.

Paul grinned. "Good answer on Chalmers, huh?"

She laughed, low and throaty. "And the right answer on Trump."

He turned to face her. "So what happens now?"

Amanda’s smile was slow, knowing. "I’m in Perth for 3 more months."

Paul’s pulse kicked up again. "Lucky me."

What started as a one-night spark became something more. Amanda extended her stay in Perth. Paul found excuses to return to the city. They explored each other with the same intensity they debated politics - fiery, passionate, unafraid.

And as the Perth skyline glittered beyond the window, they knew this was just the beginning of their libertine escapades.