Once again I had been denied a chance to look good in Maggie's eyes. The fact that she was a stripper just made me all the more desirous of her. I still wanted to make love to her but I still hadn't found a way to impress her. At least now I had a release for my pent up hormones in the older tenant, Mrs. Johnston and she was even willing to pay me for my 'services'. A couple more 'house calls' as the handyman and I at least would have enough money to go after Maggie at the Fantasia Club.
Another woman in the rooming house that caught my attention was Mrs. O'Brien who lived in 2B with her two young sons, Bert and Ernie. I know it sounds funny but that's what their names were. Really! They were 11 and 12 years old and into sports. Me, although I was more into 'indoor sports', had been known to be not a bad tennis player.
Mr. O'Brien was in the navy and was away at sea for a six month stint so I scored big points with their 34 year old mother by helping the boys improve their games while Dad was away. Mrs. O'Brien was an average looking woman with short brown hair to go along with her petite size. She was only around five foot two and she actually did have 'eyes of blue'. More importantly she seemed like a likely target for my sexual needs. I set about trying to get into her pants.
After every lesson with the boys I made sure that I praised them to the hilt. Typically she would want to hear more and I started to get invites for soda and finally dinner. The boys of course never wanted to stay around after dinner so they would head out to their friend's houses leaving me to help Mrs. O'Brien to clean up.
I did everything I could to look good in the young mother's eyes. I would compliment her on her cooking and moved from there into congratulating her on what fine boys she was raising basically on her own and that it must be very difficult. After a couple of such occasions I noticed that she started to dress differently. She started to wear make-up and obviously had fixed her hair into a cute pixie cut which I quite liked and which certainly suited her face.
One morning when I arrived to pick up the boys, Mrs. O'Brien opened the door and she was still in her nightgown. Standing with sunlight behind her I could see her petite figure right through the translucent material and immediately got a hard-on. I didn't try to hide it. In fact, I hoped that she would notice it, which she did. I caught her looking down at the front of my tennis shorts and she got all embarrassed when she looked up to see me observing her.
Trying to regroup, she muttered that the boys had gone to their grandparents for the weekend and she apologized for not letting me know but it had just come up at the last moment. I guess I looked disappointed because she apologized profusely once again and slowly started to close the door.
Panicking, I scrambled for an idea to try to take advantage of the situation. I realized that I might not get another opportunity like this. Suddenly a brainstorm hit me.
"Remember you asked me to fix the screens in your apartment. Well, I could do them now if I wouldn't be disturbing you. " I held my breath hoping that I hadn't been too obvious as Mrs. O'Brien pondered the situation.
Smurking as though she knew my intent, the lonely tenant gave me her approval. "Okay, Dennis. I'll get dressed while you get any tools you might need. " Of course, I was hoping that I would only need one tool and I had it with me at all times.
I was back in a flash and Mrs. O'Brien hid behind the door and said shyly, "Boy that was quick. Do you do everything that fast?" I wondered if she had meant it as a double-entendre the way I had interpreted it. "I'm not quite dressed but I suppose you could come in and work in the living room while I finish changing. "
Trying to integrate some humour into the rapidly heating up scenario, I joked "Okay, Mrs. O'Brien. Close your eyes 'cause I'm coming through. " With that I stepped through the doorway and walked over to the window. Because the shades now were closed (hadn't they been open previously?) I could see the reflection of Mrs. O'Brien in the darkened window as she quickly dashed into her bedroom. I was pleasantly surprised to see that she had replaced her nightgown with a set of matching black undies – low cut bra and thong panties.
My cock pulsed in appreciation. She was more attractive than I had given her credit for or perhaps my rising libido didn't have such high standards of beauty. I tried to divert my attention from her long enough to attend to the loose screen. Fortunately it only required a minor adjustment.
I was surprised, however, when upon completing the minor task, I turned and saw my hostess once again appraising me. This time her eyes were zeroing in on my butt. Again she was red-faced when she realized that she had been caught. This time neither of us averted our eyes for what seemed like minutes but was probably only a few seconds.
"I…I…I'll make coffee while…you…fix…the…the…bedroom…ah.. while you fix the bedroom screen. Okay?" she stammered but her embarrassment was really about her emphasis on the word 'screen' and she quickly fled into the small kitchenette.
Now it was my turn to smile smugly as I watched her cute butt disappear. I love women in tight tank tops and short skirts and she had the figure to show off in both. Once again my raunchy organ raised its head in appreciation.
Entering the foreign territory of her bedroom, I was impressed by the feminity of the room. It was obvious that there was no male around to mess it up. Indeed the only sign of a male was the picture on the dresser of Mr. O'Brien in full dress naval uniform. The bed was made and there were no clothes lying around like in my bedroom. Hearing the kettle whistle, I realized that I better at least pretend to be doing the screen and it was a good thing I did too because this one was tougher.
Minutes later, Mrs. O'Brien entered the bedroom carrying my mug of coffee and she hesitantly brought it over to where I was positioned between her bed and the window. As she started to pass it to me she tripped over my toolbox and sprayed the steaming hot coffee all over my shirt.
"Ow.. it's burning!" I cried and started to tear my stained t-shirt off over my head.
"Oh my god! I'm so sorry, Dennis! I'll get some ice to put on the burns!" With that she raced out of the bedroom.