I'm Mr. Shy. I'm the fellow who is non-confrontational. I'm the guy who at fifty-eight years of age can only boast two wives and four other "conquests". Not Casper Milquetoast, you understand. Once I get to know a woman in the Biblical sense, I'm not shy or standoffish at all. But I guess even I had my limits. Here was a woman who was eminently desirable, apparently available (at least displayably available since I'd seen about every charm she possessed in the last half hour or so, and badly wanted to see more), and still virtually undressed. I had the clear feeling (which probably gets men into a lot of their trouble) that she was enticing me on purpose. I think she wanted more than her door knobs serviced. I think she had a plumbing problem she needed male help with and I was the male of her choice at the moment. But I also worried that if I acted on that premise, poorly practiced at this gentle art as I am, I might find out that she was willing to pay me for my work, and willing to knowingly tease me half to death with her body, but that to openly challenge her intentions might get me thrown out quickly. Even if I couldn't "get" her I wanted as much opportunity to "see" her as possible. After having shown me the walk-in closet door in her room which was to get a new knob, and the room and closet doors of the other two rooms upstairs which were to get new knobs, we were standing at the top of the stairs once again. I had just said that there were then six new doorknob sets to be replaced upstairs. She turned slightly away from me looking back down the hall, using her left hand began pointing at doorways and counting. The robe opened but she was facing away from me. She continued turning slowly the other way down the hallway, toward her bedroom, and continued counting. Suddenly she turned toward me and burst out with, "Oh! I know. The guest bathroom door. I forgot to show it to you. That makes seven up here." She beamed. I gawked. Her robe was fully open down the center of her lovely body. Only the beginning mound of each breast were visible but her pubic hair, neatly trimmed into a "V", and obviously quite lush, was clearly visible under her little tummy. With another exclamation of, "Oh!" she closed her robe and started down the steps. But again, she didn't seem to be genuinely embarrassed about her obvious display of her pussy and my equally obvious staring at her pussy. In fact, halfway down she reached up to her head, unraveled the towel around her hair and repositioned it. This action must have totally opened her robe in the front and lifted it well up her ass in the back. Unfortunately I was above and behind her so I couldn't see a thing except the nonchalance of the action. I made up my mind.
On the fourth step down from the top I laid my ballpoint pen in the middle of the step, then continued down. When we got to the bottom of the steps and were again standing side by side I took my risk. "Tamara," I said in as calm a voice as I could muster, "I want to do the work for you that we have discussed. And I want to be around you as much as possible while doing that work because I really enjoy looking at you." By now my voice was quivering with what we call sexual excitation but I believe is pure old adrenalin. I continued. "But I think that you are trying to drive me nuts; and doing an excellent job of it." I stopped to see if she wanted to say anything. She just stood there smelling wonderful, looking up at me, holding her robe closed quite chastely. So I took the plunge. "If I'm right about all of that, then you really enjoy teasing me with your gorgeous body and glittering smile and eyes. And if that is also correct, my questions become are you going to continue to tease me while I work, if so can I touch you periodically, whether or not I get to touch you will I get to make love to you eventually, and if not, what do you want me to start working on first?"
"I don't think I've ever come across a man quite like you before, John. In work related stuff you are forceful, communicative, assured. But when it comes to sex, you shake and stutter and look quite perplexed. I presumed that you would have ravished me by now. I'm glad you haven't, but I decided I wanted you to by the time I showed you the kitchen drawer." She seemed so at ease and, now that we were talking about sex instead of door knobs, I was even calming down some. She moved a little bit away from me and said, "Yes, I like teasing you. I like seeing how you lust for me. I like that kind of reassurance. And yes, you can touch me periodically. But I want you to try to continue to work and I will try to continue to tease you. And, finally, yes, I want us to make love. When we're both too hot to stand it any longer. When/if I don't have you in me I'll faint away. When you are so excited that if I touched you you would come instantly. That's when we'll have each other."
Wow and-a-half. Who ever even dreams this good? Christ almighty this could be the day I die and the mortician can't get the smile off of my face. Nor her pussy cream. Not wanting to be pushy, I still asked, "Do you happen to have nylons and a garter belt you could wear with that robe?"
"I sure do." she said and started up the stairs. About three steps up she stopped and turned back to me looking up at her and asked, "Do you want to watch me put them on?"
