Quick Relief

Hallo there. I was bored so I wrote a quick Sweenett one-shot. It's not very good, but eh.
Homework's finished nothing else to do.
Ignore my over-use of commas.

I own nothing.
There is graphic content within. Not too bad, I suppose.

Nellie Lovett was busy making pie crusts in her meat pie emporium, as she liked to call it, one afternoon, when she heard the familiar sounds from her sociopathic barber. Her tenant was throwing one of his daily tantrums, fueled by his anger towards the Judge and the hurt of losing his one and only love. By this latest fit, she had decided to simply ignore them, and once he'd worn himself out, she'd casually walk up the rickety steps and try to clean up whatever was left.

This day, in particular, his tantrum was louder than usual, but she thought nothing of it. Today, rather than being motivated by his lust for ridding the world of Turpin, it was about her. He couldn't stand being around the cheery woman for more than five minutes, but today, because of his lack of customers, as he'd convinced himself, his mind would wander off, and settle on the mental image of the woman's scandalous bodice. He slowly felt the oh-so-familiar sensation in his lower body make itself noticed. He cursed himself, he loved his wife, and how could he possibly feel anything short of attraction to Eleanor Lovett?

He almost considered going down to her kitchen, and taking her, just to relieve himself.
Almost.

But, that would give her too much pleasure. He wasn't blind to the fact that she was infatuated with him, and he knew that if he was to use her in such a manner, he would regret it deeply. Instead, he took out the anger burning in the pit of his stomach by breaking every glass object in sight, and overturning every table, as he usually did. Though that did satisfy him a little, there was still the nagging problem brewing in his groin. Though he didn't like the idea, he didn't want to risk disease from one of the whores located around the shop, he calmed himself to a point where he could sit in his barber's chair.

Reluctantly, he undid the buckle, which wasn't very difficult, and reached for his manhood. He attempted to picture his darling Lucy, but his memory was failing him, and he would end up picturing the auburn-haired baker down below. He despised the idea of doing this to her.

Despite the fact, it seemed to be working well, as he slowly started to pump as he imagined her breasts slowly bouncing as if she was being ridden. As his pace increased, so did hers. Breaths quickened, hearts raced. He was close, so close that when the bell chimed, indicating a visitor to his shop, it went unnoticed. As did the near-silent, feminine gasp that escaped her chapped lips.

Unknown to the barber, he released in the presence of his land-lady, while letting out a faint moan, "Nellie."

He heard feet shuffle, his gaze immediately flicking to a flustered Nellie Lovett. She let out another gasp as he snarled and quickly put his member away.

"You saw nothing. You heard nothing." He sneered.

"I-I was jus' comin' up to clean up ya mess, Mista T. I didn-" She frantically responded.

"Out." He whispered.

Eleanor quickly obliged, blushing brightly, ran down the stairs with haste. She closed and locked her pie shop door just in time to hear a shrilling yell from her maniacal barber upstairs.