Brent received a call from an old customer of his. Could he come around and retune the piano? He could. A date and time was arranged and Brent added it to his appointment diary.
On the nominated date Brent fronted up to the Williams' place and rang the bell. To his surprise the door was not opened by Mr Williams. Instead there was an attractive young blonde standing there.
Brent appreciated a nicely turned female form as much as the next man and he had to admit that this was one very nice female form. She was lightly clad in a loose-necked blouse and a micro-mini skirt. From the way the blouse clung to her breasts Brent was prepared to swear that she was braless.
"Good morning," he said. "I'm Brent Masters. I've an appointment to tune the piano."
"Oh, yes," gushed the blonde. "Popsy said he was having someone come to do that. He wanted to be here to see you himself but had to go out. I'm Mrs Williams, but you can call me Carly."
Carly turned and led the way into the house, followed by a slightly bemused Brent. He couldn't help but notice the way her skirt clung lovingly to her bottom, and if she had panties they sure weren't leaving any visible lines on the material.
Now that he thought about it he'd heard that Mr Williams had got married again. Seeing Mr Williams was in his fifties and Carly wouldn't be pushing twenty very hard, Brent suspected that she was a trophy wife. With a face and figure like that she was probably an accomplished gold-digger as well.
Settling at the piano, Brent ran a hand across the keys, listening to the sounds. Not bad, he thought. A few rough spots, but generally pretty good.
Brent has assumed that Carly would leave him to get on with his work. He was to be disappointed. He was reaching for some tuning forks when she spoke to him.
"How do you know if a note's not right?"
Turning to answer, Brent found Carly leaning forward over the end of the piano. His idle thoughts about her lack of a bra were answered on the spot. The loose neck of the blouse was gaping, Carly's braless ornaments on full display. Brent took a deep breath, and kept his eyes on Carly's face. She was a customer, after all.
"Um, I compare the sound each note makes against my tuning forks if I'm not sure. Generally I can tell just by hitting the key. I have a very keen ear, but I do need silence while I'm testing."
"Sure. You go right ahead. I just like to watch an expert at his work," Carly said.
It wasn't what she said, Brent decided, but the way she said it. And you can't make anything of that or you'll wind up looking like a fool. He took a deep breath and started work.
It was hell. Every time he wanted silence, Carly would be filling it with questions. She was constantly moving around.
Bending down to look at his tools, while her blouse gaped and showed her assets. Leaning over the end of the piano, while her blouse gaped open and revealed her breasts. Standing on her toes and trying to look in the back of the piano, and still somehow managing to make her blouse gape and expose her womanliness.
The first time Brent was willing to concede could have been accidental. So could the second and even the third. But there was no way the constant barrage of breasts on display could be anything but deliberate. Carly was deliberately teasing him. A glimpse of her face in a mirror while she was crossing behind him showed open mockery on her face.
She was having fun, exciting herself by flashing her boobs at the tradesman, knowing that there was nothing he could do about it.
Her constant chatter and general distraction had almost doubled the length of the visit by the time Brent had finished.
Writing out his invoice, Brent was slightly reluctant to charge Mr Williams for the full time, as he should have been able to finish in half that. Considering Carly's behaviour, Brent decided it was fair enough. He was tempted to add a surcharge for hazardous duty.
Taking the invoice from him, Carly glanced at it.
