Charlie's Odd Jobs

Charlie's Odd Jobs

Author's Note: In this world, all characters are 18 or older. There are no unplanned pregnancies. STDs don't exist. Any mention of a specific product doesn't constitute an advertisement or endorsement, and I have no financial connection with the manufacturer or any retailers.

In the movie Swimming Pool, an older woman character played by Charlotte Rampling appears on a balcony overlooking a pool, strips nude, and seduces the gardener to make love with her. That scene is the seed from which this story grew.

An author has complete control of the fictional characters within the domain of their stories. As the writing of this one finished, a line of dialogue I used earlier to set up a later exhibitionist/voyeur scene bothered me. I don't know why I wrote it that way I did, but found I couldn't just let that part of the story hang there. I didn't think the story needed a separate treatment; thus, I added an epilogue where things get explained and fixed.

*****

Charlie was 70. Emily, his wife of 40 years, had passed away three years ago. He still lived in their little beach bungalow which had enough bedrooms so his kid's families could drop by for visits. Charlie was in decent shape, not an athlete, but not overweight or having too much of a "Dad bod."

Several years before Emily passed, Charlie had a heart attack. Later, he'd been diagnosed with an enlarged and cancerous prostate. His cancer wasn't aggressive and didn't seem to want to kill him any time soon. What that meant was that Charlie took a bunch of medications. Between the meds and with Emily being sick, he hadn't enjoyed the physical company of a woman for nearly a decade. He still got "hard," but maybe not as stiff as years ago. He still masturbated and ejaculated, you know, just to check that the equipment worked. There were those questions on the form for his annual wellness exam after all. He had no confidence that his equipment would be up to the task of penetrating, much less satisfying, a woman. One could say he was "all dressed up with no place to go." He really missed the savory and exotic delights of oral sex, however.

Early every morning, he'd don his wide-brimmed hat and walk the nearly two miles to the McDonald's located on an out-parcel of the local strip mall. He sat with the other retirees who gathered there and mostly just listened as they idly solved the world's problems. Whose what was aching today. Isn't it hot? Will it rain? Does Olive Garden have an early afternoon deal where you can get that salad? Did you know, Fred was shot in the ass in Vietnam; that's why he limps. It's the same stuff every day. On the walk back, he'd stop by Publix and pick up something for lunch or dinner. They usually had one of those meal kit things. The meals were made to serve two, but he didn't mind leftovers. Sometimes he'd think to bring his little folding gray cloth insulated lunch bag. It was just big enough for a quart ice cream container and a frozen blue ice pack to keep it chilled on the walk home. The independent parlor that made their own ice cream was next to Publix after all. His was an easy unchallenging life. Mundane and repetitive. Charlie was just kind of muddling through the days.

After moping around for over a year, his son finally wore him down or wound him up, as it turned out. Charlie decided he had to do something to get out of the house for no better reason than to get his son off his back. "Charlie's Odd Jobs" became a thing. He got all the small business licenses, permits, and insurance required to legally putter around in people's houses and backyards, fixing drawers, replacing kitchen faucets, and nailing down those loose stairs on the back deck. Nothing big. Nothing major. Just an hour or two here and there. He threw an assortment of lawn and garden tools and a wheelbarrow into the bed of his truck and checked the hand tools in his truck box. His son had fussed at him about climbing ladders, so Charlie included only a five-foot step ladder in his assortment of equipment. He was not going to clean any gutters, but maybe he could reach a ceiling fan or that one just out-of-reach limb that needed to be pruned. That kind of stuff. Tools sorted, he went to a sign shop and got two vinyl stick-on signs for the doors of his truck. He didn't fancy painting his truck in case things didn't work out. A trip to the office supply store to get some business cards printed and he was officially a small business. He asked and pinned one card to the cluttered bulletin board at the community center and one to the announcements board at the Publix. He didn't need or expect to make any money. He just wanted to get out of the house.

*****

"Charlie, you over there," queried his next door neighbor, Stephanie. Charlie was puttering around cleaning his pellet grill.

"Yeah!"

Steph had stepped over to the little gated gap in the low hedge that separated their yards and beckoned him. "Come over, I've got some folks I want you to meet."

Charlie suspected it was Steph and her husband Dave who kept his son informed about his activities and moods. Years ago, shortly after Steph and Dave moved into the neighborhood, Charlie and Emily accidentally discovered they were nudists or naturalists. Or, well, exhibitionists, Charlie wasn't sure what the difference might be, but he wasn't going to bring it up in conversation. Besides, Steph was a younger retiree and looked good naked. Their backyards were private, but there were a couple of places where Charlie could look down into Steph and Dave's yard from his house. And one day, there she was, reclining on a chaise lounge, naked except for her hat, reading a book. Charlie called Emily. They both agreed she had a nice body and wasn't she very tan? Everywhere? Charlie marveled that she was completely shaved. Even though he thought it, he kept that observation to himself, Emily elbowed him in the side anyway, but with a smile, as if to say, "Don't you go getting ideas."

At first, Charlie was nervous about the new neighbors and what Emily might think. Charlie's idea was that he didn't have to worry about getting caught looking if he came clean. "Look at that, honey, she's doing it again," covered a lot. Eventually, he figured that Emily and Steph had probably talked things over. At any rate, Charlie got used to Steph and Dave's inclination. Emily didn't give him any grief over his casual voyeurism. He came to think of Steph much like he did paintings in a museum. It seemed those old masters painted a lot of naked women. He didn't pay much attention to Dave other than that he was a very good pit master.

Steph was wearing a tasteful wrap dress and was seated with two women he didn't recognize. "Charlie, I want you to meet Jill Anderson and Mattie Smythe. Charlie is a good 'odd jobs' man. When Dave is at work or traveling, I can count on Charlie to help with those pesky little fix it honey-do things. Jill is a widow and Mattie is a divorcee." Steph winked at him and revealed, "Charlie is a widower."

Charlie smiled and shook his head. He said he could sit for a short spell but didn't want to interrupt and take up their time. Neither Steph nor her two guests were naked, but he knew Steph liked to tease him and wondered what she might be up to. He didn't know why it would matter for him to know anything about the marital status of two strangers. He certainly didn't know them well enough that they should know he was a widower. The ladies had a couple of bottles of sparkling wine and a bottle of something called Aperol. They were pouring them together into a reddish orange cocktail over ice and doing a lot of whispering, laughing, and giggling. Three older women, giggling and sneaking peeks at Charlie couldn't be good, he thought. Something he didn't understand had to be going on.

Jill Anderson looked very much the business woman type, casually but smartly dressed in a light color print summer dress with spaghetti straps tied at her shoulders and a flattering neckline. She was certainly not flat chested, but one look and Charlie realized it would only be natural to compare her to Mattie. Mattie seemed to be the youngest of the three. She was short, a bit on the plump side and especially abundantly endowed. From Charlie's point of view, she personified the alluring rubenesque archetype of feminity. She was wearing a short white tennis skirt and a matching tight and supportive sports bra. Her nipples were happily advertising themselves. Charlie didn't know exactly what size she was, but once breasts were double-letter and bigger than your hand size, they were big enough that she had to know everybody looked. He certainly was, as casually and surreptitiously as he could, not wanting to stare and embarrass her, or himself, by getting caught looking too long. Even Charlie knew that if he ignored her and her assets, that was the wrong signal, too.

Their discussion turned to jobs that Charlie might do and both guests mentioned the usual things around their houses: fix a loose hinge, leaking faucets, put up a shelf.

When they offered him a spritz, Charlie declined, deciding it was time he made his exit. "Thank you. Nice to meet you, ladies. Mrs. Anderson. Ms. Smythe. Call me if you need something done, and we'll work out prices and times." Charlie tipped his hat, excused himself, and went back to scraping and brushing his grill grate.

He could hear the susurrations of the women laughing and chit-chatting, but they were too far away for him to hear anything clearly. When there was a sudden quiet interlude, Charlie looked over through the low gap at the gate in the hedge. He could see that all three were looking in his direction. They quickly looked away. He could have imagined it or maybe it was unintentional, but when he looked, Mattie's legs were open, and Charlie had a glimpse of her white underwear. She looked straight at him and closed her legs as she reddened and gave him a sheepish smile. Either she caught him, or he caught her, but Charlie got an "Oh hell. Not good. They're up to something" vibe. Who knew what secrets they had shared besides marital status?

Looking back, it was that afternoon when everything started with Jill and Mattie. "Hey Charlie!" Steph yelled over the hedge and again waved him over. "We have a job for you. Mattie needs a ride home. She's had too many spritzes, and we've taken away her car keys."

He looked at the women. He thought they could well be tipsy and none of them should be driving, but his mind went first to practical thoughts like: "How about Jill," "What's wrong with Uber," "What about her car," "In my old truck?" Somehow, the way they looked at him, especially Mattie, stifled those reservations. He just said, "Sure. I'm at a stopping point." That meant he had reached the point of cleaning up and putting away his grill brush.

As Mattie walked to his truck, she didn't look at all impaired, no stumbling and she walked in a beeline towards him. He wasn't judging. It is always best not to take chances with free-flowing drinks and an afternoon in the sun. Charlie opened the door for her, and Mattie turned and scooted her bottom onto the bench seat of his truck. When she lifted and swung her leg into the foot well, her skirt rode up, revealing the gusset of those white panties he had glimpsed earlier. Charlie also saw the detail of a darker patch along a vertical crease between two plump gently curved mounds; she had flashed her damp camel toe to Charlie. She paused, looked at Charlie, and realized where he was looking. Of course, she was aware that her intimate and private thoughts had made her wet. She'd exposed herself and knew he saw her arousal. She looked down, blushed, and hurriedly smoothed her skirt. She pressed her knees tightly together. As he walked around the back of his truck to get in on the driver's side, Charlie adjusted himself to be more comfortable in his pants. Maybe her antics weren't intentional, but Charlie considered what if they were.

*****

A few days later, Charlie's phone buzzed in his pocket. When he looked at the screen, he didn't recognize the number.

"Hello?"

"Is this Charlie's Odd Jobs," queried a feminine voice he didn't recognize at first.

Charlie cleared his voice. "Oh. Uhmm. Yes! Charlie speaking."

"This is Jill Anderson. We met at Steph's. My toilet won't stop running. Is that something you can fix?"

"Probably but let me come over and take a look. Looking is free and I won't charge you."

When Charlie pulled up in the circle drive of a two-story home, he noticed the landscaping was a little untidy. When she answered her door, he recognized Jill Anderson as the more business-like widow he'd met at Steph's. Charlie thought she was maybe five to ten years younger than he was. She was, as before, conservatively dressed in a loose blouse and comfortable slacks. Her clothing made it hard to tell much of anything about her body, but Charlie didn't mind watching her pleasantly shaped rear undulating in front of him as she climbed the stairs. She led him to the master bedroom with an en suite. The bedroom was tastefully appointed with a king-sized bed that had a ceiling fan centered above it. There was a sliding glass door that opened onto a sun porch that overlooked a lanai opening to a swimming pool in the backyard. The porch was furnished with a table and two chairs. He could hear the trickle of constantly running water.

Charlie had stiffened watching Mrs. Anderson climb the stairs. He made himself more comfortable, knelt to shut off the water, and removed the lid to the toilet tank. He quickly saw that the flapper valve was old and cracked; that was the cause of the leak. The fill valve, tank gasket, toilet bolts and washers were all the same vintage, however, so Charlie proposed he just replace everything. Once he got the parts, it wouldn't take much time at all. Mrs. Anderson was relieved it wouldn't cost that much for such an easy job.

It took Charlie about an hour and a half to get the parts, return, and fix the problem. When Charlie finished, he went downstairs and called, "Mrs. Anderson?"

"I'm here, out back, come on through."

Charlie found her sitting in a chaise lounge in the dappled shade of her expansive lanai. A Big Ass Fan was slowly and quietly turning, providing a gentle and cooling breeze. She stood up and indicated a pitcher clouded and dripping with condensation. Two glasses sat on a table with a bucket of ice. "Would you care to join me for some cold lemonade while we settle the bill?"

She had changed into a light, flowing, and transparent gossamer beach cover up that was open to reveal a conservative one-piece swimsuit. Charlie could appreciate her full, but modestly sized chest. Her round bottom was nicely sculpted by the suit and her legs were long and shapely, tapering in smooth curves from the distinct fold at the inside of her pelvis to her slender ankles. He noticed the little curved underwire (Emily's suits all had those) that helped corral her breasts, but her cleavage was still delightfully displayed by a plunging neckline. Charlie mused that the older a woman gets, it seemed to him the more tightly she wraps things as if a little wiggle, a "hitch in her git-a-long," was somehow a bad thing. Charlie had always thought a nice sway, bounce, and ripple made women like her look like they were dancing even when just walking, whether coming or going. That's the kind of thing Charlie appreciated. She seemed to intentionally lean toward him as she filled his glass. He tried his best to be subtle about his glances. He admitted to himself that he was decades out of practice when it came to interpreting any signs a woman might display, signs that she might be interested in more than pleasant conversation. Oh, he recognized friendly flirting but wasn't sure how far beyond pleasant conversation and joking around she might be encouraging him to go.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Please, it's Jillian, or Jill, if you are comfortable with that," she said as she turned and sat back down. "I have more jobs if you have the time."

"I'm retired and just do this to get out of the house, so, yeah, I've got time."

In addition to the lanai with its fully equipped outdoor kitchen, Jill's backyard included a swimming pool and a Firethorn hedge around three sides for both privacy and security. Charlie saw lots of jobs: plant beds to weed, some raking, furniture cleaning, and there's always screening on the lanai to be replaced. Jill explained she had a landscaping service that came monthly to tidy things (they hadn't come yet this month) and a pool cleaner so he wouldn't have to mow, fertilize, or fool with pool chemicals. But she might want some help with her hedge. Just some little things, inside and out.

"Sure, just give me a call," he said as he finished his lemonade. They settled the business side of the afternoon's work. "Thanks Jill. See you. Good afternoon." As he let himself out of the gate next to the garage at the back corner of the house, Charlie thought, was she maybe a little miffed? If she called again, he'd guess she wasn't.

Charlie slowly built up a small client list. He figured most of the women knew each other, from a club or spa or something like that. They talked and told each other, "He can probably fix that." He didn't want too many clients, just enough to take up otherwise idle hours a couple of days a week. He felt good about updating some of his own things. He had an old Buick that had seen better days and decided to trade it in and lease one of those mid-sized hybrids. That got better gas mileage than his Buick, so he started expanding the range of his morning walks to include short drives to nearby parks, beaches, and museums. He even included a few trips to the zoo. For his outdoor nature walks to parks and beaches, he liked to get there early, before they might get crowded, or it got too hot.

It turned out that Jill did have lots of little jobs. Charlie realigned the closures on her kitchen cabinets. He'd gotten scratched and poked while moving a pile of Pyracantha clippings to the curb for pickup that the landscapers had forgotten. She had gently touched more than his arm as she cleaned the scratches and fussed at him. "It's okay. That's not necessary," he made excuses. "It really doesn't hurt. My meds make me bleed a lot."

He noticed that every time she had an outside job for him, Jill would lounge in the sun. "Supervising," he mused. Then, one day, she wore a broad-brimmed hat, sunglasses, and a white string bikini under her beach wrap. That day, she positioned her chaise in the sun, aligning it to point directly into the yard where Charlie was working. It was hard for Charlie not to look. That bikini top didn't have those underwires to keep her supported and controlled. Her hard nipples cast little shadows as they pressed against the thin white cloth. Every movement made her breasts sway and bobble. Whenever she stood, turned her back and bent over to adjust the lounge, get more pillows, whatever, the generous bottom of her suit caught in the crevice between her cheeks and rode up over the swell of her ass. Then, as she stood, her back to Charlie, she'd hook her fingers into the bottom and adjust the wandering seam back down over those cheeks. When viewed from the front, the suit wasn't one of those thong things, but the contrast between the bright white fabric and her tanned skin made the triangle covering her sex stand out. She got her book and a cold drink, took off the wrap, and sat down stretching her legs in Charlie's direction. She began rubbing sunblock lotion all over her exposed skin. She fiddled with the triangles over each breast, thoroughly spreading lotion on any tender skin that could possibly get exposed to the sun. Charlie was distracted by the application. When done, she settled back on the angled lounge, raised one leg, bent it at the knee, her foot on the padded chaise. With seeming absentminded inattention, she waggled her upraised knee back and forth as she relaxed and took up her reading. Charlie clearly saw the flash of white as the gusset of her suit broadening toward her bottom was exposed then hidden between the plush curves of her thighs.

She had a big screen TV next to her outdoor kitchen in the lanai. Sometimes while Charlie worked, she would turn that on and do yoga poses along with one of those TV teachers. On those days, she wore a supportive sports bra that pressed her breasts into firmly confined round mounds and a pair of tight boy shorts. The top did nothing to mitigate her nippley exposure. Those days were very distracting for Charlie. Even though her woman's bits were covered, it had been a long while since he had seen that much of a woman so intimately displayed as she was in some of those poses. He could see the damp stain between her legs; he didn't think she was sweating. He knew she had caught him looking more than once. He hoped she hadn't also caught him making himself comfortable.

And then, early one day...

Charlie was on one of his favorite stretches of deserted beach for his morning walk. His phone buzzed. He had set it so the caller ID now displayed "Jill A."

"It's Charlie. Hello Jill. What can I do for you today?"

She hesitated, tempted, but Jill didn't say what she really wanted to say. Instead, "Charlie, that thunderstorm last night blew a bunch of leaves and stuff into my pool. I've got people coming for a party tomorrow, and my pool service can't get here. Do you have time today to come over and tidy up my pool?"

"Sure. Two o'clock, okay?"

"Yes."

"See you then."

At two o'clock, he let himself into the backyard and called, "Jill? I'm here."

"Up here!"

She appeared at the railing surrounding the sun porch off her bedroom. She leaned over and waved. She was wearing that flowing, gossamer cover up and her white string bikini again. Her barely contained breasts jiggled enticingly as she waved with one hand and held a goblet of pale-yellow wine in the other.

"Be sure to come up when you're done!" She said invitingly lifting her glass.

Charlie looked. She acknowledged him with a wink and smiled. He took off his hat and wiped his brow. Replacing the hat, he thought back on her sunbathing and yoga, "It's going to be one of those days." Little did he know.

He checked out the pool. It didn't have that much debris. Skimming was an easy job that would take no time. As he dipped the net, Jill came back and stood at the railing, unmoving, watching him until Charlie looked up. When she had his attention, she looked directly at him, she untied the cover up at her neck and shrugged it off. She reached behind her back. Charlie saw the strings securing the top of her bikini around her chest drop to her sides. When she raised her arms to reach behind her neck, the small fabric triangles over her breasts rode up, revealing her full pendant curves almost to her nipples. She pulled that bow tie loose. She crossed one arm to her chest, under her breasts. She let the top drop to drape over her arm, exposing the darker pink circles around her erect nipples. She tossed the top aside. Charlie followed the arc as it fell toward the pool; its progress didn't hold his attention for more than an instant. Looking back at her, she kneaded her breasts, pulling and rolling her prominent engorged nipples. Charlie was gobsmacked; his attention locked onto her. Jill kept direct eye contact and issued a mischievous silent invitation by lifting her breasts toward him seeming to say, "Do you want this?" She wanted Charlie to know that she knew he was looking and that she was putting on a show for him.

Her breasts swayed as Jill dropped one arm to her hip. She slowly pulled the bow resting there loose. She dropped that string, and the front corner of the white triangle of her suit bottom drooped over revealing the top and side of her neatly groomed mons. She slid her other hand across her stomach to the remaining bow and untied that one, too. She held that string up and spread her feet a bit wider opening herself to his view. She reached down and tugged the fabric from between her legs. She tossed the white bottom over the rail toward the pool. Completely surprised and aroused, Charlie watched its progress as it tumbled and fluttered in a similar arc to the discarded top. His attention snapped back to Jill on the balcony. Now, fully naked, she winked at him, turned to give him a good look at her derrière, and reached down to playfully tweak her round cheeks. She disappeared into her bedroom. She didn't have to say, "Take me."

Charlie shook his head in a full on cartoonish double take. As dense as he might be, he knew exactly what she meant when she had invited him up when he finished. Charlie was several years out of practice. Any hints a woman might give that she wanted more than a friendly flirt had been mostly lost on him or just embarrassed him. Today though, he realized the pool job was a setup. He was finished with skimming any of the few remaining leaves. They could just keep floating.

When he stepped into her bedroom, she was seated in a comfortable wing back chair with scroll arms. Her legs were crossed at the ankles. Her knees were slightly apart. She was delicately twirling her pubic hair, lifting and pulling it so her pussy peeked at Charlie. On a side table was a bottle of wine and a filled second glass. She saluted Charlie with her glass, sipped, and smiled.

"Well, are you going to partake?"

She didn't say "me" or "the wine," but Charlie had made up his mind and was going to have both. He picked up that second glass, said "Prost" and drained it, fully appreciating that wine wasn't the only thing she was offering. Jill opened her legs. Charlie dropped to his knees in front of her. For him, any foreplay was done. He traced his hands along the top of her legs, then to her sides, and grasped the flesh of her bottom. He looked into her eyes and scooted her forward until her dark pink glistening sex was poised on the edge of the chair. With hands on her knees, he pressed her legs apart, pushing them up and open to drape over the arms of the chair. His actions told her, I want this first. She closed her eyes, dropped her head back, and sighed. She finally had him and didn't care which part of him she was going to get. Or, what part of her he was going to start with.

With the back of his fingers, he lightly stroked along the plump folds of her outer labia. He teasingly explored her. His eyes and fingers pressing, sliding, twirling, and pulling her sparse and groomed nether fur, but not penetrating, yet. He gently spread her inner lips with his thumbs, exposing the increasingly moist dark passage that marked the opening of her most intimate depth. He bent his head closer to her junction and inhaled, smelling the heady musk of her arousal. He focused on intently watching his fingers as they dipped and stroked into her. Her sex became slicker as he distributed her delicious woman's essences. She could feel his breath on her wet center, warm as he exhaled then cool as he inhaled. Her little swollen button revealed itself, peeking out from under its pink hood. He spread the hood completely exposing the tumid bud. He circled the pink nub with his finger, then slipped down and pushed that finger into her passage, gathering and spreading the lubricating moisture now oozing from her. His hands were rough, but he touched her as lightly and gently as he could. He tried to gauge whether she prefered his finger circling her button, or pinching it between her outer lips, sliding two fingers, one on each side, or just mashing it in circles with his four fingers. He looked across her belly and breasts watching her responses. He listened to her breathing. With one hand resting on her belly, he felt her shuddering tight contractions as he felt for her pleasure. He watched as her eyes fluttered. He took his time learning to pleasure her. At opportune times, she inadvertently helped, her response being to explicitly moan a breathy and rapturous "Yes."

He slid two fingers into her and began slowly fucking her as he circled her swollen nub with his thumb. Knuckle deep inside her, he curled his fingers to stroke the spongy flesh behind her clit. He slipped his other hand along her flank and brushed the folds at her waist, not a critique, but anexploratory tactile appreciation of the warm expanses of the flesh of mature womanhood. His hand moved to her breast and he pinched her erect nipple until she inhaled sharply. He lifted her breast by that nipple, released it, placed his palm over it, and then kneaded the fleshy mound. She pressed her hand over his and, with her guiding touch, she implored him to squeeze harder. Jill shook, tensed, and began breathing shallowly and irregularly as her back arched up in the chair. She moved her other hand between her legs, placed it over his, and began guiding him as he rhythmically pressed his fingers into her. She shuddered, and her hot passage clamped around his fingers as they moved within her. She relaxed, closed her eyes, and exhaled deeply. Charlie smiled to himself as he felt the flush of her spend soaking his hand.

Charlie withdrew his hand, his fingers coated with her cream. He looked at her and brought his fingers to his nose and mouth savoring the smell and taste of her essence. He licked his fingers then pressed them to her lips, offering Jill a sample of her own mélange. She smiled naughtily as she inhaled and sucked on the offering, tasting her arousal. Charlie put his face between her legs and inhaled her heady scent. He kissed her first on the inside of each thigh. He alternated legs moving closer each time to her outer lips. He placed a gentle kiss at the top of her slit, above her swollen button. He blew a slow, warming breath up and down along her spread sex and again deeply inhaled her intoxicating aromas. Her short pubic hair just tickled his lips as he teased her with another breathy pass. He extended his tongue and touched its tip to her and slid it down, over her clit, to her vagina where he nudged her labia side to side, opening her lips with his tongue as his fingers had done before. With the flat of his tongue, he licked her like an ice cream cone. He curled his tongue so that at the apex, its tip nudged under the root of her clit. He took that bud between his lips and kissed. He suckled its firm flesh, his tongue lapping gently and repeatedly across it.

As he ministered to her clit, Charlie inserted his thumb into her passage, his purlicue against her as he slipped his index finger down along the cleft of her ass. He tasted and felt her dripping profusions; he massaged her crinkly little rosebud with his knuckle almost pushing that hole open. He spread her wetness to that other tight opening each time he pumped his thumb into her slick depths. She writhed in the chair, gripping her knees seeking to spread herself even more. She was clenching and her pelvis rose to meet each inward stroke of his thumb. Charlie felt her tight walls squeezing his thumb and her movements became ragged until again she shuddered, relaxed, and rewarded his efforts with her intimate discharge.

With a deep, sighing breath, Jill lifted his wet face from between her legs and smiled at him. She pushed Charlie back, and he stood up. She grabbed the front of his pants and reached for his belt. The buckle clinked as she hurried to unclasp it. Charlie pushed his pants and boxers to the floor and stepped out of the pile. Charlie wasn't big; he'd always considered himself average, but now he had no doubt that he was certainly up to the job at hand. Jill wrapped her fingers around his cock and stroked him as he unbuttoned and discarded his shirt. She cupped his balls gently lifting, massaging, and squeezing his sack. She looked up at him questioning when she noticed a jagged little scar. Charley just whispered "vasectomy." (Neither a worry nor a distraction under the circumstances.)

She pressed his engorged member up onto his belly and licked the underside, root to tip. When she reached the head, she took him into her warm mouth. She sucked him to the back of her throat. He felt himself growing bigger than he had been in a long time. He filled that warm, wet space with his own needy flesh and felt her tongue pressing him to the roof of her mouth. She slipped him out and circled his little head with her tongue. She fondled his sack and pulled him by his sack to her face. She swallowed his swollen member as she brought it deeper into her mouth.

Jill withdrew him from her mouth and placed a kiss on his reddened engorged head. She stood up and walked over to the bed. She patted the bed. "Lie down," she directed. Charlie did, with his stiff member laying along his stomach. Jill opened a drawer and withdrew a tube of lubricant. She squirted some into her hand and grasped his cock. It was a shocking slippery cold at first, but it soon warmed as she stroked him. She climbed astride him, leaned forward, and fed him the nipple of one of her dangling breasts. Charlie eagerly latched on. As he sucked, he slid his hands to her ass and up her sides. At her shoulders, he pulled her torso down, pressing her tit into his face. He lightly stroked his open-palmed hand up and down along her back. She pressed her sex onto his tumescent length, rubbing herself along it. She pushed up and back, reaching again for the lube. She leaned back and cupped her vulva, coating it and spreading lube inside herself. She grabbed Charlie's ready tool and nudged between her open lips. She circled the tip around her passage and then slowly sat back on him, letting him sink into her. She began making little thrusts with her hips, not rising, but rubbing herself against Charlie with him fully inside her.

Charlie began pushing up against her, his own body's rhythms and needs taking over their coupling. He hadn't been sure he could get an erection sufficient for penetration, the evidence of his infrequent masturbation notwithstanding. Now he knew. He slid easily within her warm sheath, felt the slightly dragging push and pull of her enclosing flesh as she clasped it around him. The feeling was so different than his hand. With a sharp inhale, he spasmed into her, holding himself as deep inside her as he could be and felt his hot ejaculate pulsing into the depths of the moist connection they shared.

From that day on, it became Jill's secret signal to Charlie to inquire whether he could come over to "skim her pool?" Their coupling became a regular occurrence, but not more than a couple of times a month. A satisfying afternoon repast for each but not an exhausting clingy relationship for either. Even Charlie's son remarked that Charlie smiled more often.

*****

It was another girl's day at Steph's and Charlie was working on his plant beds. Steph called over that Mattie had again had too much to drink for safe driving. By now, Charlie was wise to Steph and suspected that either Mattie really couldn't hold two glasses of wine, or the request was some kind of ploy. Again, he waited beside the truck and held the passenger door open for Mattie. He watched her as she sashayed across the lawn. Same as before, there was not a single sign of inebriation, no wobble or stumble in evidence, just a playful smile, but this time she wouldn't hold his gaze. She was wearing another mid-thigh length pleated tennis skirt with a tight white top that sported a deep scoop neckline. Her breasts were pushed together compressing them to display a straight-line cleavage. The fleshy curves that billowed out to each side of her exposed décolletage merrily jostled around as she walked. Charlie split his attention between watching her prominently erect nipples set in the barely detectable puckered circles of her surrounding areolas, that wobbly cleavage, and her impish smile. Given the size of her chest, Charlie couldn't imagine she would ever be comfortable playing tennis in that blouse. For her part, Mattie knew exactly what his eyes were tracking. Charlie saw vents on each side of the skirt. His first thought was that's where the opening to a ball pocket would be in a tennis skirt, but the slits were more forward over the front of her legs and there didn't seem to be any fabric that might serve as a pocket. Charlie watched, hoping she might do her teasing trick again, where she hiked her hip onto the seat, lifted one leg onto the running board, and flashed her delicate white underwear before swiveling onto the seat. She did.

During the drive, Mattie got more nervous the closer they got to her home; maybe the alcohol was wearing off. She was talking up a storm about things she wanted done on her patio, in her greenhouse. She wanted a lamp rewired. Little things. Charlie started to think that Jill and Steph had put her up to something. Charlie was sure the panty flash was intentional and figured she either really was in a giddy state of mild inebriation or was trying to tell him something.

Throughout the chatter, Charlie mostly watched the road, but he also couldn't ignore her left index finger circling the top of her leg, worrying at the top of the slit in her skirt, imperceptibly pushing it up and open to reveal more and more of the inside of her leg. When she reached the curve where the top of her leg and belly met, she just kept pushing the fabric open closer and closer to her mons, threatening again to reveal the panties disappearing down between her legs.

"Can you do that?"

"What? Yes. Just call me. Here we are."

"Thanks, Charlie," she said as she touched his arm. She brushed her skirt to a more orderly coverage and then hopped out. She turned and leaned into the window. "When I need your services, I'll be certain to call you."

Charlie adjusted his tumescent member to be more comfortable as he watched her ass jiggling enticingly as she walked away. She was swaying her hips a bit more to enhance her somewhat salacious stroll. She opened the front door, turned, and gave him a final smile and wave before going in. He didn't know what she, Steph, and Jill might have talked about. Something, maybe not, or what Mattie's game might be. Charlie thought she was shy and reserved. Her conversation during the drive, however, had a nervous, breathy timbre like she wasn't sure she could get the words out. Maybe she was just rambling on to keep a conversation going. But she wanted Charlie to notice she was almost exposing herself. Again, Charlie didn't have a lot of clues, but what he did know was he should just let what happens happen and not push anything, especially with Mattie. When she called him a couple of weeks later, he ended up figuring out her game.

In her backyard, Mattie had a pergola that provided dappled shade for a portion of her patio. In one corner was a little concrete cherub with a jug pouring water into a small scallop shell-shaped pool. She had some raised beds with heirloom tomatoes arranged around the edges, and ferns hung from the main support beams of the pergola. It made for a nice shady nook that was completely private. Mattie called with a request, "Charlie, can you install a drip irrigation system for the plants on my patio and around the pergola?"

"I've never done that. Let me check and call you back."

Charlie looked online and discovered it would be a simple thing to install. He searched and found out that there was a nearby box store with a garden center that had everything he'd need.

He called her back. "Yes. I can set you up with a customized drip system. If it's okay, I can come over tomorrow afternoon to discuss what you want and measure things. After lunch, 2 pm?"

Charlie made a quick trip to the garden center to check on the choices and prices for more expensive things like automatic valves and timers. He picked up a "How To" brochure to get basic ideas for layouts. The brochure explained not only layout options but what each of the little fiddly bits in the system did. He got a kick out of the fact they sold little packs of plugs to fix any mistakes he might accidentally make.

The next day, Charlie pulled up at 2 pm with his tape measure and little notepad. He rang the front doorbell. It was one of those camera things (he'd installed it a couple of weeks ago), and Mattie spoke through the little speaker, "I'm in the back, come on through." Charlie pushed open the door when the lock buzzed. He smiled and was happy about installing the Bluetooth smart lock that Mattie could control with an app she had on her phone. As he approached the big sliding glass doors that opened onto her patio, Charlie saw Mattie had moved a chaise lounge into the sun. She was reclining, then looked up from reading her book. She put it down and stood to greet him.

Her deliciously plump oiled body gleamed and was just barely decent. Two tiny triangles of bright chartreuse fabric were centered over her engorged nipples. The top and its strings simply flattened her breasts against her and were woefully inadequate to cover her side boob, under boob, or the apex of the distinct puffy curves that formed an open cleavage with a sharp peak at her sternum. His gaze diverted to her matching tiny bottom. The inverted triangle there was tucked under the curvy swell of her belly, exposing the little creases at the top of her thighs that seemed to originate at and point to her barely covered sex. He had no idea how the puffy outer lips of her vulva were covered by that tiny swath of cloth that disappeared between her shapely legs. Her boobs wobbled with lewd and carnal implications. As her breasts wobbled, her nipples threatened to escape their concealing confines. Charlie gulped. Mattie watched him as he unabashedly looked her over and she smiled.

"Hello Charlie! This is what I want..." As if her boobs and voluptuous backside weren't blatantly on erotic display, Mattie bent over, squatted, pointed, stretched, and showed Charlie what she wanted and what she wanted him to see. When he saw that that little string vanished between her butt cheeks, Charlie got ideas, but he reminded himself, he was there to figure out how and where to install sprinklers. He tried to maintain some modicum of composure as he sketched a plan, measured, counted plants to be hooked up, routes in plant beds for soaker hoses, and made notes. Several times, he hid his adjustments behind his sketch pad as he made himself more comfortable. He tried to do it when her back was turned. He was sure Mattie probably caught him a time or two, but she didn't say a thing.

"I think we've got a plan. I'll go and price out the stuff we need and come back tomorrow to finalize the layout. Once I do that, I'll get the system components and install it," said Charlie.

"Yes. Okay." Mattie sat down, looked down at her folded hands, and got quiet.

Again, Charlie was sure she might have something on her mind. He didn't want to push things any further than she might want to go.

"Charlie," she asked meekly, "can I come with you when you pick up the stuff?"

That's weird, he thought, but "Sure." Her tension disappeared with his answer.

"Thank you. Want some lemonade?"

"Sure. Thanks."

When Mattie went to the house, he watched her going and coming. She returned with two tall, iced glasses, a pitcher of lemonade, and a bottle of vodka on a tray. "I know you are driving so no vodka for you. I feel like spiking mine. Is that okay with you?"

He didn't know why she asked, but Charlie's brain was starting to work. Still, he could only repeat, "Sure."

She sat back on the chaise, and he settled into a nearby chair with the table and refreshments between them. Fresh-squeezed lemons, real sugar, and just the right amount of tart citrusy lemon bite. As she finished her spiked version, Charlie saw Mattie physically relax; any tension seemed to drift away as if something resolved had come to fruition.

On shopping day, Charlie called ahead to make sure Mattie was ready and still wanted to come along. When he pulled up and rang her doorbell, she was so quick to open the door, she must have been waiting there for him. She was wearing a deep V-neck wrap blouse tied at her hip and a short, pleated skirt, not as short as her tennis outfit, but well above her knee. Charlie noticed she was eager, bubbly, and smiling, and her unconfined chest was very bouncy. A bright cut topaz, the color and nearly the size of a Robin's egg, was suspended from a delicate silver necklace and focused Charlie's (and frankly any other observer's) eyes on the deep open crevice between her ample breasts. He couldn't help but think of that old trope: two puppies playing in a sack. He smiled back at her.

Maybe it was her nerves, but as they pulled into the box store parking lot, Charlie noticed she was playing with that topaz as it lay over the seat belt strap dividing her generous mounds. She was touching it, turning it, patting it. Was she giving herself a pep talk? She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, looked at Charlie, and said as she unbuckled her belt, "I'm ready. Let's get the stuff."

"Okay." Charlie wondered what was going on.

In the garden center, Charlie and Mattie found a sales associate and discussed the options and benefits of their proposed drip system. Charlie knew the sales associate was watching Mattie's topaz, but when the young man's eyes nearly bugged out of his head, Charlie glanced aside at Mattie, too. Charlie stuttered in his conversation with a couple of stunned "Uhmms." Mattie wasn't fiddling with her topaz; her hand was inside her blouse. He could tell her fingers were circling and lightly pinching her nipple. Otherwise, she was just smiling, nodding her head, and asking things like should her hanging plants have drip emitters or, since they are ferns, would it be better to have little misters in each basket?

Like the proverbial light bulb turning on in his head, Charlie realized what was going on and why she wanted to come shopping with him. He was her bodyguard, her chaperon. If he were around, she felt she could do whatever she wanted without getting into too much trouble. Well, maybe being asked to leave the store. But what 20-something male sales associate was going to object to watching a woman play with her nipple?

The associate haltingly answered that either the emitter or the mister would be fine.

Charlie didn't remember much more about picking out the rest of the irrigation supplies, he was too busy enjoying Mattie's exhibitionist antics. In a demonstration layout of a rock garden with white pea gravel and a large silver reflecting ball, Charlie discovered she wasn't wearing any panties. Even in the distorted reflection, her bare slit was obvious. She bent over to smell some of the flowers blooming in flats. When she did, she surreptitiously reached back as if to smooth her skirt down but instead pulled it up over one plump cheek, completely exposing her puffy sex. The swinging pendant topaz drew unabashed attention to her breasts, each one capped with its taut plump gumdrop pushing into the fabric, dangling and swaying freely, affording a lubricious scene to anyone not enjoying her wantonly exposed behind.

Charlie just pushed their cart around enjoying both her show and the expressions of shoppers and associates when they realized that Mattie was surreptitiously exhibiting her assets. A small group of people started furtively following them to see what the next act in her show might be. As they went down an aisle of garden statuary, Mattie happily squealed, her attention drawn to a cute little porcelain garden frog holding a toadstool over its shoulder like an umbrella. She kind of half-way knelt, one knee up and one nearly to the floor. "How cute," she said as she turned toward Charlie a bit. When she did so, her skirt rode up her naked flank and she spread her knees apart. She was openly exhibiting her now gaping and glistening sex for the pleasure of anyone in front of her. Her excitement was obvious. Her darker inner lips protruded below her swollen clitoris. Anyone with a close and clear enough sight line would have seen a drip of her creamy white essence sliding languidly down her leg. She picked up the frog, stood up, and added it to their cart.

She smiled at Charlie and winked. All she said was a whispered "Yoga," as if that were an explanation. "I'm through shopping. Let's check out."

When they got to the truck, as Charlie loaded their purchases, Mattie stood on her tiptoes and lightly bussed him on the cheek. She whispered, "Thank you."

Charlie sat in the truck, but Mattie was still standing outside the open door rummaging for something in her little clutch purse. She took out a white handkerchief. She looked at Charlie and pulled up the front of her dress, nonchalantly exposing her wet, dripping slit. She wiped and patted herself dry, hopped in, and buckled up. Under his breath, Charlie was unsure what to say or what might happen next. He just whispered, "Stunning." Mattie sheepishly looked down at her lap and started fidgeting with her necklace again.

As he reached for the ignition, she touched him on the arm. "We're not going to fuck should you be thinking that. Ever. But, when we get home, I do have a favor to ask of you. We'll discuss it then."

When they pulled into her drive, she said mysteriously, "You go ahead and unload things. I have something to do." She hurried into the house as Charlie unloaded the materials into his wheelbarrow. He pushed it through the gate and around back. As he finished stacking the supplies, Mattie came back onto the patio wearing a deep royal blue silk robe. She set a tray with a bottle of wine and two glasses on her round bistro table.

"This wine is best if allowed to breathe for a while before serving. Come on in. I have some things I want to show you."

Charlie wasn't much of a wine drinker, so he didn't think much about that. He had never been to her bedroom and that's where she led him. She stood beside a folded decorative screen. She looked down and started a monologue.

"This is hard for me, but now I'm sure I can trust you. Jill said you could be trusted completely, but didn't say anything else. That's okay. I believe in her. My Ex always thought I was some kind of deviant sex-deranged slut for wanting to do what I thought were simple, normal things. I wanted him to watch me touching myself. I wanted him to touch me, lick me, with the lights on. I wanted him in my mouth. I was young and naive when we married. Anyway, he divorced me for 'irreconcilable differences.' I never cheated on him or anything like that. I just didn't meet his rules for what an obedient, faithful, and Christian wife should be. I found out that he was having an affair only after he married his pregnant mistress a few weeks after our divorce was final. She must have been a 'fine Christian woman,' meaning unquestionably obedient to his needs and whims. That wasn't me and I thought for a long time something must be wrong with me. I was messed up and in therapy for years. When I started feeling better about myself, I didn't know what to do to get what I wanted. I started exploring, but dating apps, clubs, and bars just weren't right. Then I met Jill and Steph, and we began discussing things. Sex things. That older women have expectations and needs, too."

Charlie interrupted her, sympathetically shaking his head, and said, "No. You're not old." Even he knew it wasn't time to say, "You look good for your age."

Mattie raised her hand to silence him. "Please. Anyway, I want to show you a reproduction I commissioned from a local artist."

She opened the decorative folding screen that separated her bed from the bathroom and dressing area, dividing the bedroom into two private spaces. Charlie looked amazed at the explicit oriental art she revealed.

"This is an enlarged reproduction of Flying Cranes, a Japanese Shunga woodcut from the Meili Period. The original dates to 1899."

The screen depicted a Japanese woman slouched against a pillow, propped on one arm, fingers poking out of her sleeve. Behind her is a folding screen with three cranes in flight. She is intently looking at a shunga book, open on the floor before her. The red hem of her kimono is held brazenly open by her spread legs, bent at the knees and arranged like the unfolded wings of a butterfly. The fingers of one hand are intimately curled in the pubic hair surrounding her plump open lips and rest loosely at the apex of her sex. Her delicate digits are employed pressing at the juncture wherein lies her hooded clitoris. The wet dribble of her spend exudes from her passage and is pooled on the kimono, attesting to the profligacy of her emissions.

After he had looked at the stunningly explicit artwork for a while, he was startled when Mattie said, "Let's continue our discussion with some wine." Sometimes, he was oblivious, and it was only at this point that it sunk in; Mattie was wearing only a silk robe tied at the waist. Its creases and folds draped over her breasts, around her belly, and down along her hips, emphasizing the outlines of her body. Now that her body had his attention, he could tell she wasn't wearing a bra by the way the fabric draped across her mounds and how the erect pucker of her nipples sculpted and diverted the folds around them. Her belly smoothed the fabric around the depression of her navel above the knotted sash at her waist.

She headed down to the patio, and he followed, both completely surprised and aroused by her admissions.

She poured the wine and sat on her padded chaise.

"Charlie, that was the first thing I wanted to show you. The second thing is, I want to do for you what she was doing. I want to cum for you. I want you to watch me. The rule is, as I said, I'm not going to fuck you. Another rule is you don't talk about this. Don't worry. I'll take care of you after..."

Charlie wasn't sure he had been as stiffly erect in years, maybe not even with Jill. He didn't know what 'take care of you' might mean, but finding out was okay with him...

"Okay. Yes." Not knowing what was next, he cautiously sipped his wine while Mattie drained hers.

She stood beside the chaise. "So, this is the other thing I want you to see." She untied the sash and slipped the robe off her shoulders, dropping it to the ground where it puddled around her feet. Naked, her body on full frontal display, she sat back onto the chaise. It was barely audible, but Charlie heard, "Please watch me." He nodded.

Mattie sat on the edge of the chaise lounge and opened her legs, spread them wide like the woman on the screen. Her full outer lips were only sparsely covered by her neatly groomed pubic hair. She spread her labia opening the juncture at the apex of her slit that partly concealed her swollen bud. She tapped the bud with a finger of one hand as she dipped two fingers of the other into her already slick and glistening passage. A gossamer strand of her essence linked her fingertips and her sex as she withdrew her fingers. The thread parted as she reached to her breasts to circle her engorged nipples, one and then the other. She tasted and wet her fingers to better smear her profusions on her tits. She cupped, squeezed, rolled, and kneaded her breast as she slipped her middle and index finger in an inverted V to splay open her fleshy hood and pressed down to completely expose her engorged clit. She flicked the pink bud, tapping and rubbing it with persistent diligence. As she progressed closer to her release, her dripping essences collected in a moist puddle that darkened the fabric of the chaise. She covered her clit with all four fingers and worked her sex in tight circles, pressing, stretching with one hand, and fucking herself with two fingers of her other hand. She tensed and shuddered nearing her release. She switched to lightly pinching her exposed bud, letting it slip between her fingertips. She arched her body as her arousal mounted. Then she closed her eyes and dropped her head back. Her shallow pants changed to a long, deep breath. She shuddered with little "Ahh! Ahh! Ahh!" sounds coming from the back of her throat. She expelled a warm gush of nature's essence between her fingers as her sex quivered with pleasure.

Mattie opened her eyes and looked intently at Charlie's amazed and now hungry visage. She saw he was gripping and stroking his member over the fabric of his pants.

"Come here."

Charlie stood and took the short step forward that placed him between her sprawled legs. Mattie opened his belt, unzipped his fly, and pulled down his slacks and underwear together. His penis bounced upon release, and she wrapped her fingers around it. She began with a few short strokes. Then he felt her warm wet mouth engulf him. He let her set her own pace, her head bobbing and her hand stroking him. Before she took him too far over the edge, an idea about something she said flashed into what remained of Charlie's distracted mind.

He gently touched her cheek and held her back as he withdrew.

"Wait. I want to taste you. Is that okay?"

Mattie, surprised, meekly nodded her head and repositioned herself on the chaise. Charlie removed his shoes, socks, pants, and boxers, quickly abandoning them in a disheveled pile. He grabbed the seat cushion off his chair and placed it on the patio as a knee pad and knelt in front of her. She smelled intoxicatingly and wondrously of sex, and her taste was like electricity buzzing between his cock and his head. He mimicked the technique of her hand and circled his finger around her lips, manipulating her to another orgasm as he licked and sucked her. Her release soaked his mouth and chin. She lifted Charlie to her chest, and he suckled her breasts as he made his way to her face, where they shared their first real kiss.

She pushed him back and up until he was standing again. She took his member into her warm mouth and sucked it to the back of her throat. Her nose pressed against his pelvis. She withdrew him from her mouth, leaving him sticky and wet, and licked the head before she straightened and nestled him between her breasts. "This way. Fuck me like this."

He began rocking himself between her abundantly fat tits, dragging the flesh up and down as he thrust. She dribbled spit onto his little head as it appeared and disappeared, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, Charlie leaked his own pre-cum lubricant into her valley. He was mesmerized by how she alternated between looking up at him and licking the head as it emerged above her cleavage. All the while, she tugged and rolled her nipples as she squeezed her billowing flesh around his shaft.

"I'm going to..."

"I know. Just let go."

And Charlie did. His hot cum spurted and oozed over Mattie's expansive chest. She took his member in hand and stroked it, pulling it to her mouth where he felt her tongue tickling his urethra and brushing across the underside of his penis. He kept spasming, depositing his thick, hot spend onto her and into her mouth. She swallowed what cream she caught and massaged the remainder onto her expansive breasts.

Mattie looked up at Charlie, smiled, and said with a giggle, "Thank you. It's been a while since that was fixed."

*****

Charlie enjoyed skimming Jill's pool and adjusting the timer and pressure regulators on Mattie's drip irrigation system regularly. He found he certainly didn't mind the perks. His son noticed he wasn't as bored and maudlin as before, yet he didn't seem to be working quite as much. Charlie smiled and winked and said he had "semi-retired from his retirement, taking just a few special odd jobs now and then. "Repeat customers keep me busy."

One afternoon, Charlie took a shower after working some more on his lanai. He looked out his window and Steph was lying naked in her backyard again. Charlie dressed quickly. He crossed his yard to the gate at the gap in the hedge. He opened it without announcing himself and strode confidently over to Steph. He looked at her tanned body, smiled, and said, "For whatever you might have had to do with or know about what's happening to me, thanks for being a good neighbor." Steph just smiled as he walked away. She knew what he was talking about and knew Charlie was being discreet. He would never, ever, say anything else about what was going on.

*****

Epilogue: Mattie Is Fixed

"Charlie, I need to talk to you," Steph said as she looked at him over the gate between their yards. "Come on over." Steph sat beside her table on which there was a bottle of bourbon this time, not wine. She poured two fingers in a cocktail glass. It clicked on the tabletop as she set it in front of Charlie.

As he sipped, Steph talked and as she started, he knew it was his job to listen.

"Mattie. I need to talk to you about her. You don't have to tell me what you two are up to," she said because she already knew.

"What I'm going to say is way too much information, but you need to know it because I think you can help more than you already are. You should know that Mattie's ex-husband was a piece of work. He married her for her breeding potential and treated her as his mare. Mattie had discovered masturbation as a teen, but he didn't condone the practice and wouldn't allow it. Rubbing yourself was against God's law and couldn't produce a child. He didn't beat her physically but was verbally abusive. He was an evangelical nut job who cared only about using and impregnating her. Her comfort or needs didn't figure into the marriage vows he thought granted him unquestioned ownership over her and, well, he hurt her. She was a virgin when they married and had no idea fucking wasn't supposed to hurt. She just thought submitting to his rough treatment was a normal part of the whole wifely servitude deal. He isolated her so she didn't have anyone to talk to. Then she developed fibroids that caused her further pain. When her hysterectomy ended his chance for an heir by her, he divorced and discarded her. She got the house, and with a good lawyer, she kept all her own family's money."

Steph looked at Charlie and he nodded quietly. Yes, he knew what he had to do to fix things. He just had to be gentle and take it slowly. He wanted to switch things up during their conjugal visits and introduce new things gradually in as non-threatening a way as he could. When he was fixing and adjusting her irrigation system, he started watching her closely. When she masturbated for him, she spent a lot of time touching her clitoris. She fucked herself with her fingers but only shallow enough to gather and spread her fluids around. She always came whether by her fingers or his mouth.

Charlie was good at figuring out the tools he needed for a job. What he needed was a special tool kit for Mattie. He searched the internet and found several sites with reviews by women of toys and lubricants. The We-Vibe Rave was small, said to be quiet, well reviewed, and not at all like one of those gigantic intimidating realistic dildos. He found coconut oil and a water-based lubricant that were both odorless and tasteless. He choose those because a woman's smell and taste, her essence, were a big part of the pleasure he received from sex.

He completed his little kit with a small squeeze bottle and a pair of hand warmers with rechargeable batteries. When put together in his gray insulated bag, the kit consisted of the squeeze bottle filled with coconut oil and the tube of lube (both in a plastic zip bag should they leak), the vibrator in its satin bag, and one of the hand warmers to keep everything in the kit warm. Charlie knew from his own experience that anything cold and wet when applied generously to one's genitals can be a distracting shock even if expected.

Charlie brought his kit with him on the next service call for Mattie's irrigation system. As they had developed in their routine, he started disrobing while watching her masturbate. He would stroke himself, something for her to watch as she pleasured herself. Mattie came and invited him as always, "Come here. Let me take care of that."

Charlie then took the first step, possibly out of Mattie's comfort zone. He skipped the oral sex instead opening his little tool kit and produced the squeeze bottle. "Here, let me," he said looking at her dubious expression. He squirted warm oil onto her breasts. "Spread it around." As she did so, she relaxed enjoying the feel of the oil on her skin. She even smiled at him sheepishly as he dribbled more oil across her and into her cleavage. Having stroked and primed himself, Charlie finished quickly in the warm slickened valley of flesh pressed around his member. Mattie missed his oral ministrations but felt okay about the addition of the oil to their routine. She knew Charlie was eager and horny, too.

One day, as she fingered herself, Charlie again departed from their routine. He moved closer and sat, naked, between her splayed legs. He reached up and gently touched his fingertips to her circling fingers, following them and feeling the nuances she used to pleasure herself. He took the squeeze bottle and dribbled the warm oil onto her mons. It ran down to her slit and coated her fingers and lips as she manipulated herself in rapid circles. He gently moved her hand aside, exposing the swollen nub she was toying with. He bent forward and took it into his mouth, pressing it with his lips. Charlie was touching her out of their usual sequence, pushing her comfort zone a bit. He pulled back and watched her quivering sex.

Her eyes opened in fearful surprise when he produced the little vibrator. Without turning it on, he touched it to her mons and slipped it around her, pressing outside of her plump outer lips to her perineum and back to where he started. He circled her several times, each time looking up at her with a silent question, "Again? Or, should I stop?" She sheepishly nodded yes each time, choosing to trust him as he pushed her boundaries.

Charlie tapped the smooth pad of the vibrator gently against her clit and then slipped it down along the slick parting between her inner lips. He pressed her flesh open exposing her passage and dipped the toy shallowly into her. He moved the toy in circles, gently nudging her open more and more. He withdrew the toy and turned it on, its quiet hum interrupting the silence otherwise broken only by Mattie's nervous breathing. He looked up at her and she again nodded apprehensively, not sure of his intent. He eased the vibrating toy onto the apex of the hood at the top of her slit. Her head dropped back, and mouth flew open with a sharp intake of breath. She had no idea an electric buzz could feel like this, and she came almost immediately with a shuddering juicy contraction. Charlie placed the humming vibe on the threshold of her open passage and began licking some of her spent essence from the inside of her legs.

Charlie stood up in front of her. Her expression was one of both questioning and longing. Charlie took the tube of warm lube from his kit. He knew her sex was bathed in the tepid juices of her lust, but he didn't want to risk that that might not be enough for his planned conquest. He slathered some of the warm viscous fluid onto her spread sex, even dipping his fingers as deep into her as he could penetrate, as gently as possible stretching the sheath in which he was going to lodge himself. He coated himself with the lube as she watched him dubiously. Charlie then reached out his hand, beckoning her, "Over here, on the bed, it will be more comfortable." His tone of voice implied she could say no at this point and if she did, he was prepared to say, "Let's clean up and have some more wine."

But that didn't happen. She took his hand and lay on the bed, raising her knees and letting them fall open spreading herself in imitation of the Japanese woman on her screen, inviting him to try her. She looked at Charlie with a mixed look of anticipation that he would be taking her and apprehension that she was going to let him. He knelt between her legs and added another dollop of lube to her sex and his member. He pressed the head of his cock onto her and pushed her nether lips open with it. He could see and feel her tension. He began sliding himself back and forth across the channel of her slit. He made sure his ridges and fleshy crinkles rubbed over her clit. When he saw her begin to relax with pleasure, he pulled back to align his head with her hole. He popped it in and watched the play of emotions on her expressive face.

She nervously nodded a quiet and breathless, "Yes."

Charlie held himself above her, up on both arms, above her so he could watch her reactions to his penetration. He began to push into her, feeling her tight passage clasp and part ahead of the progress of his cock. He stopped as the head of his member slipped easily past her lips and retreated slightly, but not out. He advanced, his return deeper this time. He slowly probed and withdrew, deeper on each stroke until he was pressed fully against her, his sack resting next to her bottom. He stayed there, motionless, as she vacantly stared in wide-eyed contemplation. She had had an epiphany. It didn't hurt. In fact, it felt wonderful to take his entire length inside her, filling her.

All at once, she realized she had missed so much. She began rocking her pelvis rubbing her clit against the base of Charlie's cock, encouraging him to take her. Her instinct told her she wanted him to move inside her. It was a slow, easy fuck. When Mattie's excitement peaked, she let down another splash of fluid as she quivered through her release. Charlie hadn't expected it, but her orgasm triggered his own. They both felt his hot ejaculate seeping into her.

Mattie reached up and pulled Charlie tightly against her body. She kissed him then gave him a happy look of trust and gratitude combined.

Charlie whispered, "I hope that's fixed."

Mattie kissed him again and whispered into his ear, "Yes."