The following is based somewhat in fact, but has been substantially augmented with fiction to enhance reader interest. All persons in this work are age 18 or over. Enjoy.
During the summer of my early college years I managed to land a job with the local public works department. It wasn't that challenging but it paid quite well, which was certainly helpful for a college student of any era. My duties were somewhat varied between installing fire hydrants in new sections of town to painting crosswalks in the shopping district to reading water meters.
As I already related during Part 1 of this story, reading water meters meant taking a large book of accounts and one of the town pickup trucks to a neighborhood and then going door-to-door. The routine was that I'd knock on the door or ring the bell, holler "meter reader" and wait for someone to let me in. Then it was down to the basement where I'd flip open the meter, read the five digits, record them in my accounts book, and move on to the next house. It really was mindless work, but at one house at 97 Westmoreland Street there was a break in the routine when an attractive scantily clad young woman came to the door. I introduced myself and she let me in, but I never got to read the meter and instead got a wonderful sex education lesson.
The following story occurred about a month later after that first experience. Moreover, I quite well recalled all of the erotic details of that previous visit to this address. I rang the bell, called "meter reader" and once again Mrs. Pinkham came to the door. She was more or less dressed, or maybe I should say was as undressed, as she had been the last time meaning a very sheer nightie that barely covered her more interesting parts. Not necessarily being over-endowed, the nightie was so sheer that I was able to make out her perfect pair of tits, the dark outline of their nipples plainly visible. There was also a dark triangle of pubic hair clearly visible.
"Well, hello Wes!" she began. "I was starting to wonder when you would be back in the neighborhood. That last visit was just so pleasant I was hoping that we'd be able to enjoy each other's company again."
"Really, Mrs. Pinkham . . ."
"No, no! It's Hillary," she corrected me.
"OK, Hillary, I have a lot of meters to read today and it isn't that I disliked our last visit together. . . ," I began with fresh memories of my fucking this attractive woman who could not have been that much older than me.
"I understand, but there is something that you can help me with and I suspect I'll be able to help you as well."
"What's that?"
"Well, now where do I begin?" she said with a quizzical look on her face. "Let's just say that women have a couple of somewhat physically annoying days every now and then."
"Hillary, I do have two sisters and know that there are some times when they are just plain cranky so I know not to bug them about anything. But you don't seem particularly bothered today."
"So, I guess you do understand. Let's just say that I've had a few cramps both yesterday and today and could use some help relieving with them."
"My sisters take Midol and that always seems to help if that's what you mean."
"I've done that, but there is something else that seems to work even better. That is, if you are willing to help me."