It was late in the day when someone knocked on my cubicle. I cringed and hoped it wasn't another work request.

I looked up from my keyboard and slowly turned around. Theresa stuck her head in sideways. She smiled and walked in. She's a short girl-- no, give her credit-- a woman, wide hipped and small boobed, mid 30s.

"What's up? Heading home?" I asked.

"You got a minute?" she asked in her cute twangy accent.

She rested her head against a metal filing cabinet and reclined her body. She wore a lime-green light flannel shirt with small flowers, and a pair of cheap jeans. A little drab. She should have tried a little harder.

She looked down at me. "I gotta ask you something."

She has a pretty face, her long brown hair fell straight down.

"Sure." I sat back on my chair and pushed off my desk. "What's up?"

"You know I'm new in town. I wouldn't ask if I didn't really need the help. There's pizza in it..."

"Is it a party? I can bring a gift. Who's having the birthday?"

"You're funny." She laughed. "No, I was wondering if you had some time, maybe a few hours. I need help moving some boxes. I'm moving apartments. You know how these things work. End of the month, you have to get out. I'm almost done. Just need a little help finishing up. Celia's not very helpful." Celia's her daughter, 8 or 9 years old.

"Sure, I can help. Nothing too heavy, I hope. Where do you live?"

"North Seattle."

"I can help anytime. I'm not doing anything all weekend. So let me know." She glanced quickly at some pictures on my desk.

I said, "I'm there when you need me. Anyone else helping?"

"Just you and me. You're the first one I asked." She turned away, a little embarrassed.

"Anytime." I said.

She looked at me, "What about today?"

I nodded my head up and down, thinking. "I'll have to make a phone call. But I think it'll be okay." She walked out of my cubicle. Her ass filled out nice.

I spoke into the phone. "Hi."

We rode the bus to her place in North Seattle.

"It's going to be about an hour," she said. "Rush hour makes a mess of I-5."

We sat across the isle from one another. I read, and when I had the chance, took long glances at her. Our eyes met every once in a while. I'd wave and look away.

The bus roared.

"We're next," she said. We got off the bus.

"Let me help you with your backpack," I said, getting down from the bus.

We walked side by side. The streets were lined with cherry blossoms on all sides. It was about six o'clock, late in the summer. The sun was still out and the air was warm.

"So, why did you move to Seattle?" I asked. She was from Kentucky.

"I always wanted to live in a big city," she said. "Small towns don't treat divorced women very well. Everyone knows everyone's business, and they like to talk about it."

"Sounds awful."

"You get crucified, you do anything someone thinks is against religion."

I nodded. "So, you're telling me, they ran you out of town?"

"I left" she said. "I left her father. Got a fresh start. Just her and me."

"Made any friends?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"It's a full-time job taking care of a daughter by yourself. Friends become less important."

"I'll take your word for that," I said, and changed the topic. "Nice time of year."

She smiled. The sun shine reflected on her fine brown hair.

Her place was a guest-house in the back of a worn down lot. I greeted her daughter, a cute little blond, and got down to work. Teresa was moving into the back of an apartment house in a nicer part of town.

We did good time loading the station wagon. We made runs back and forth, loading and unloading, stacking boxes in the new place

On one occasion, she lifted a small but heavy box of books over her shoulders. Her pants fell below her hips, and gave me all sort of things to admire, her purple Hanes panties, her smooth stomach and bare hips. She adjusted her pants with a tug, but it wouldn't work. Her pants just kept sliding down over and over again. When she walked away, I took in the rhythmic sway of her behind.

"Hey, it's time to eat," she said. "There's a few boxes left, but I can handle that myself."

I panted.

"You should stay here and relax. We'll be right back."

The sun was still out, but it was getting dark. A few people still walked their dogs. You could hear kids playing in the neighborhood. I lit a cigarette and waited on the cement steps in the back.

I thought about her ass, and how cute she was. Cuter when she was sweaty, breathing hard, not quite so uptight. Shame about the kid. She interfered with my fantasies. Too bad her dad wasn't there to take her on the week-ends.

After half an hour, Teresa came back with a pizza box and a Pepsi 2-liter.

She got out of the car smiling. Damn she was beautiful.Her daughter ran up the cement steps and we all followed.

We sat on a cheap wooden table under a bright light bulb in her yellow kitchen. Teresa fumbled through a grocery bag. She grabbed disposable plates and paper cups.

"Eat, guys," she said.

We ate, exchanged some 'thank-yous' and 'any-times'. When we were half done, she looked at her watch and realized it was getting late.

"Little girl, it's time for you to go to bed. Excuse me. Come on finish up, you're time's up." They walked into the kid's bedroom.

The 'mom' came out minutes later with a bundle of clothes.

"I'll leave any time you want to kick me out." I kept eating.

"Mind if I do some laundry?" she asked. Work was never done. "Moving's messed up my schedule. You're be surprised how much dirty clothing two women make."

Her washing machine was in the split level below, past the kitchen. The rest of her apartment was down there.

"I like your new place better," I complimented her.

"Yeah. It's going to be better for us here."

She busied herself with the dryer. "I'm paying more, but it's a better school-- a better place to raise a kid."

I nodded.

"Give me a minute." She went in to check on her kid. On her way out, she stopped by the bathroom. She came out in a black tank top. Her small tits hung lower -- sexy without a bra. Her hair was pulled up.

I grabbed my jacket and stood by the door.

On her way to the other side of the kitchen table, she brushed her ass against me. I felt its firmness, and her warmth. I had a good whiff of her sweet musky sweat. Damn it.

"Want the pizza? I know where it's heading." She puffed her cheeks and poked her thigh with her finger.

She wrapped the pizza in aluminum and threw it into a plastic bag. "Here you go."

"Thanks."

"No, thank you. I was kind of running out of time. Remind me no to pack so much next time," she said.

She walked by again. This time, I stepped back to let her pass. But she still grazed me. She looked behind her shoulder at me. Then she turned around. She jumped and planted a kiss on my mouth. I dropped my hand down on the edge of a small shelf and almost tipped it over.

She put her hands on her hips. "What's wrong with you? How much do I have to grind on you, before you pay attention?"

"I pay attention."

I bent over and kissed her on the lips. I kept my face there. She moved her small mouth over mine. Her eyes were closed and she wrapped her arms around me.

I blurted out, "I'm not going anywhere, am I?"

"I think you may want to run." She looked at me with eager eyes. "I'm looking for a guy. You that guy?"

She resumed kissing me, pecking at my mouth. I took her by her shoulders and moved my hands down to her wrists. I felt her shiver. She grabbed for my fingers. Her hands were small but not delicate. She moved mine to her back.

"You like that?" She guided me to her ass. " I see you peeking all the time. Like today on the bus, and when we were moving." She gripped my hands firmly. I gritted my teeth and snickered.

She whispered into my ear, "Come on, touch it."