A Handyman's Memoir Ch. 04

The time I spent with Penny, Mary and Jayne really opened my eyes. I hadn't realized how powerfully sexual a more mature woman could be. I was thirty, so not exactly a spring chicken, but for the last decade or so I had always dated younger women. Penny and Mary were probably twelve years older than me, and Jayne was a few years beyond that. I was starting to look differently at my older women customers, often seeing a twinkle in their eye as they looked me over, and I found myself flirting with them quite often. The vast majority of any handyman's customers are older women, so there was lots of opportunity to flirt. I was very careful to not overdo it, but it did occasionally blossom into something wonderful.

I got a call from a woman who wanted me to install a new shower in her bathroom. It was a big house in an expensive part of town. When I drove into the large circular driveway she greeted me on the front steps.

She was a strikingly beautiful olive skinned woman, of Italian descent. She had a very short 'pixie' haircut, jet black with salt and pepper flecks of grey. It was obviously an expensive haircut, and it looked wonderful on her, setting off lovely dark eyes that were made up with that slightly cat-like look Sofia Loren used to have. She was petite, and very curvaceous, and looked like a cross between Sofia Loren and Elizabeth Taylor when they were in their prime. She had on a casual summer dress, unbuttoned just enough to show a hint of cleavage, a dark green apron with white flour stains on it, and simple white sandals. As I approached I could smell the aroma of fresh baked bread wafting out the open door.

"Hi Steve, it's so nice to meet you. I'm Christine," she said with a smile.

We exchanged pleasantries as she walked me in, she removed her apron, and then she led me up the large staircase, her thin summer dress swishing across her lovely ass as we ascended. She brought me through the master bedroom into a large private bathroom, and told me about the shower that she wanted, one with lots of nozzles in the walls and ceiling, so water came at you from all directions.

It was a pretty big project and took me a full week. Christine was a delightful customer, and she fed me a fantastic lunch every day, wonderful food, cooked with skill. During our lunches she told me about her life.

She married young, her husband made it big in the software business, and these days she didn't see him much. Sounded like he was a real workaholic. It seemed a shame to me, as she was so lovely and seemed lonely in that big house all by herself. I couldn't imagine a sane man wanting to spend much time away from Christine.

Despite her obvious loneliness, I never really flirted with her. It didn't seem appropriate for some reason, and I never like to push that kind of thing anyway. I was certainly tempted though, especially one particular morning. As I passed through the bedroom I saw a lacy red bra and panties on the bed, and a little black cocktail dress draped over a chair. They were gone when I walked back through an hour later.

On the last day of the job there were a lot of final adjustments to make. Christine was much shorter than me, very petite, and I needed her to help with setting up the spray pattern of all the water nozzles so they would suit her. I called her in to have a look.

"So," I said, "ideally you'd be in there and adjust them yourself, with the water on. You'll need this wrench, I can show you what to do, and I'll leave you the instruction book. It's really not that hard."

She looked like she wasn't very happy with that idea. I thought for a moment and said, "I suppose, if you have a swim suit I could make the adjustments for you right now. Either way would work, it's up to you."

She thought for a quick moment and nodded. "Okay . . . I guess . . . yes . . . give me a minute," she said hesitantly, and then she turned and walked out.

I was a bit surprised, both that I had the nerve to suggest the idea, and that she had agreed.

Christine was an eyeful when she walked back in. It was all I could do to not say 'wow'. I tried to keep things professional, but I know my face gave me away, and she looked pleased with my reaction. She was wearing a very expensive looking pure white one piece swim suit which fit her perfectly and accentuated every luscious curve of her petite body. The white color against her olive skin was really something.

I stammered out something like, "Okay . . . well . . . let's give it a try," and I turned on the water. It was a big walk-in sized shower with glass doors, and it quickly steamed up with hot water.

"Why don't you get in and I'll see if I can move some of these nozzles around," I said.

She got in and I reached in as best I could with the wrench to make an adjustment. Things were going fairly well, but my clothes were getting pretty wet.

"You'd better take off some of those clothes or you'll be soaked right through," Christine said. "Are you wearing shorts under those pants? I can get you one of my husbands swimsuits if you'd like."

"No, I'll be fine," I said, and I closed the glass door and started to strip down to my boxers, not really thinking about what I was doing.

As I quickly removed my shoes and pants I realized I had on some pretty thin boxer shorts, just wispy thin silk, and they were a bit small on me too. I hadn't expected to be wearing them in public. I took a deep breath, opened the shower door and stepped in to the steamy warm water, closing the door behind me.

The situation suddenly seemed extremely intimate, but Christine seemed very cool and calm, and there was more than enough room for the two of us, so I went back to my adjustments. We had nozzles hitting her from every direction, and I turned my attention to the big overhead 'waterfall' nozzle to make sure she liked that.

"This is the last one," I said.

She looked gorgeous with the water flowing down her body, and my cock was half hard and very noticeable through the soaking wet fabric of my boxer shorts.

I was looking up and had my hands over my head tightening the waterfall nozzle when I suddenly felt my shorts being pulled down to my ankles in one quick motion. I looked down just as Christine took my half stiff cock in her small hand, wrapping her fingers around it. She was on her knees, just staring at it and stroking it gently. In a matter of seconds I was at my full eight inches, hard as a rock and throbbing, just inches from her face.

Neither of us said a word. Christine never looked away from my cock, and never looked me in the eye. She just went about a very calm, slow hand-job, stroking my cock with both her hands. The hot water cascading down over us was lubricating things, and it felt heavenly. I leaned back against the wall, clutching a grab-bar behind me with my hands. She kept up the slow stroking, occasionally fondling my balls and running one hand under and up the crack of my ass, but always stroking my throbbing shaft with the other, her face just inches away. The whole scene was unbelievably erotic, and the combination of all the senses was too much for me. I came with gushing force onto her forehead and her cheek, the warm water washing it away as soon as it landed. I let out a deep guttural groan as I came, she audibly gasped a little as my shot hit her, and she smiled, always looking at my cock, never my eyes.

She continued to stroke me slowly until I wilted a bit, and then she reached down and pulled up my sopping wet boxer shorts and tucked my still throbbing half-hard cock into them. She slowly stood up until her head was out of the spray and kissed me softly on the lips.

"You're wonderful Steve," she said. "I love my new shower."

With that she opened the shower door and stepped out, closing the door behind her. Through the steamy glass I could see her towel off and leave the room.

After my head stopped spinning I got dressed and gathered my tools. I made a few final checks on things, went downstairs and left my tools by the door. I could smell some delicious aromas coming from the kitchen. Christine had one of her wonderful lunches laid out on the table.

"I'm going to miss having you around the house every day," she said as I walked in. "Especially these lunches."

"I'm going to miss everything about this job." I said. "You're a wonderful woman Christine."

"Oh you'll be back. There's a lot more to do around here," she said. The corners of her mouth curled up seductively, and her eyes twinkled. "You know, we've got a ski lodge up near Lake Placid. There's always work to do up there. Do you ever work as far away as the Adirondacks?"

I laughed and said, "I love it up there. I was just there last weekend, at a friend's place near Long Lake. I did quite a few things for her."

Christine looked at me quizzically, like she had an inkling of what I really meant.

"Great," she said, "I'll call you next week and we'll set something up."

I drove home with my head spinning, thinking about what might be yet to come with the gorgeous Christine.