Jennie and the Handyman

by mattwatt

Copyright┬ę 2010 by mattwatt

Romantic Sex Story: She used to baby sit for him; now she has employed him to fix her house. It's fine until she unintentionally flashes him. Then the real story begins.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   .


Her glancing at the paper that early Tuesday, second cup of coffee in hand, was what finally moved Jennie Allen to do something about her 'old house." It wasn't exactly that she had 'let it go', as people tend to say. It's just that she normally never thought about having things done.

Old habits died hard; she was aware of that. The whole realm of dealing with house items, and needs was one of her Andy's main pleasures. She thought of the many, many times that she would scold him about working so hard at his practice and then working so hard around the house.

Andy Allen, Dr. Andrew Allen to be precise, was a proud and stubborn man. He loved being a children's doctor as much as he loved puttering around with their 'old house'. It fell to Jennie to be the 'grounds, plants, and shrubs' lady, and she took that job seriously.

As the years went by they had aged comfortably together until that terrible, terrible day, when the policeman at the door had stolen her heart and her youth and her love, telling her of the accident and Andy's death.

The years since then had been the difficult ones. Jennie struggled; she struggled constantly, since it seemed that everything became such a task suddenly. It was as though life had become leaden somehow, and simply weighed her down.

She never neglected the way she looked but it was never a priority afterwards. She looked into her drawer of fancy underwear, one day and simply thought that all those frilly, lacy, sexy things that Andy loved to see her wear, were silly for an older lady. She put them away in a box in the closet. She associated them too closely with Andy's memory to toss them out. So, in the closet they stayed.

For herself alone she went to common, but still what she thought was pretty, kinds of underwear. Not flashy, not breathtaking but pretty colors and fabrics. It was only important to her still because it had always been important to him.

There were those kinds of things that she invariably got around to. Her clothes were more sensible than fetching. She saw herself settling into the mode of an aging widow. Friends took her to task about that kind of mind set at only 38 but to her it fit. Her Andy was gone and she had no further expectations for such things.

One of the areas where she was displeased with herself, however, was the house, Andy's 'old house'. She loved it, of course, as much as he had but she hadn't the same instincts for keeping it up, tending to it, fixing it, seeing it in repair, as he had.

But she did notice the fact that the outside was getting a bit shabby. It no longer was the spectacular brick beauty with the brilliant white trim that it had once been. And even she began to notice that.

Over a time period she said to herself periodically:

"I really have to get that taken care of, and soon."

But for Jennie 'soon' didn't come right away. It was almost as if the lovely old house being a bit shabby around the edges matched her own personality, outlook and physical appearance exactly.

To herself she quipped:

"She's an old babe like me, and we're being weathered together."

Then she glanced at the paper that Tuesday and she noticed an advertisement in the local about a handyman to do any kind of work around. That in itself was not particularly outstanding but the fact that the handyman's name was John Stewart did catch her eye.

"I wonder if that's Johnnie Stewart from over on Finder's Lane," she asked herself.

She used to baby sit for Johnnie Stewart, when she was a middle teen. Her baby sitting for him went on for a number of years, when she was in high school.

She determined to call and see if it was that particular Johnnie Stewart.

The call turned out to be a treat. He said a loud and happy:

"Mrs. Allen! Mrs. Dr. Allen! What a treat to hear from you."

"I understand from the paper that you've set up a kind of handyman's business, Johnnie," she said.

"Yes," he answered, "I've just begun and am trying to drum up some business."

"Well," she answered, "I'll be one of your first customers then."

"Mrs. Allen, what a treat that'll be. Tell me when's a good time for me to see you?" he said enthusiastically

"Any time, sweetie," she said, lapsing into her old ways of dealing with him from those years ago, when she tried, often vainly, to curb his enthusiasm, while baby sitting.

"Still living in that lovely old brick beauty," he asked.

"Yes," she said, "Still living in Dr. Andy's love!"

"Well," he said, his voice obviously pleased, "I'll be right over."

"I'm afraid you'll find me dirty," she said, "I've been in the garden this morning and haven't cleaned off the dirt yet."

"Seeing you any way at all will be a treat, Mrs. Allen," he said.

"Jennie, please," she said.

"Jennie it is then," were his words, as he rang off the phone.

She made herself a cup of tea, after cleaning a bit and while she waited for him to arrive. He wasn't very long in getting there at all.

Jennie was smiling as soon as the doorbell rang. She hurried to the door to let him in, and had a hug for him, as he came into the house.

"My what a lovely man you've become, Johhnie," she said to him and then quickly:

"I guess I should apologize; one doesn't call a man 'lovely' these days, I suppose!"

"You certainly can call me that!" he said with a big grin on his face. "It's such a marvelous treat to see you, Mrs ... uh Jennie!"

"It had better be 'Jennie', young man!" she said with mock severity. She went on then:

"But tell me what have you been doing with yourself?"

"Well, I realized after a year of college that it wasn't what I wanted. I so love working with my hands. I decided that maybe the service would help me out, so I've spent the past12 years doing tours of duty with the Marines."

"My, my," she said wistfully, "I used to baby sit him and he turns out to be a hero!"

"Hardly a hero," he protested.

She held up a hand and said:

"No, no, Johnnie, you are all heroes to me; that's simply a fact!"

"Thank you for that," he said. Then:

"But anyway, I've mustered out and decided against another tour, so I came to the home town and decided to begin doing what I love the best. Now I'm the handyman, Johnnie the Handyman."

"And a good one I'll bet," was her comment.

"Well, that remains to be seen, Mrs ... Jennie!" he said.

"Hard to get used to?" she asked softly.

"Very," he said. "You have always been Dr Andy's wife in my mind."

"Yes, yes, I know," she said wistfully.

"And a wonderful thing it was to be," he went on, "Everyone thought that."

"Oh, Johnnie Steward, don't you make me cry now!" she said, dabbing her eyes.

"Sorry, Jennie," he said, putting his hand over hers.

Jennie sniffed and said:

"Well, let's look the old gal over and see what she needs."

He laughed suddenly a very rich laugh. He immediately apologized to her:

"Sorry, Jennie," he said, "That was impolite!"

But she was already grinning at that point and said:

"Well I was referring to the house!"

They ended both of them laughing about it.

They looked the house over and he indicated that it wasn't in bad shape but should be 'seen to' very soon. He mentioned tuck pointing and also said the wood trim needed to be painted, and in places scraped right away, as the first part of the job.

"There might be other things that we see need to be done but those things stand out right away. Shall I give you an estimate?"

"You just show up and begin to do the job, whether I'm here or not," she said. "You can tell me, when you get here about how much you think it's going to cost."

"Fair enough, Jennie," he said. "I'll likely be back tomorrow to begin with the windows and such. I'll start with the second floor windows in the back and do the uppers first; they'll be the more difficult ones."

"Fine," she said, "I might be out tomorrow, since it's my shopping morning. So, please just begin and I'll catch up with you, when I'm around."

"You've got it, Mrs A," he said and then a quick: "Oops! I mean, Jennie!" he grinned a huge winning smile at her, when he said this and, when he left she was smiling too.

"What a treat!" she said to herself, "To have old friends like that back in my life. What a lift!"

She then began laughing, when she thought of the wayward remark about 'looking the old gal over and seeing what she needs!'

"Old gal, indeed!" she said, "You should be ashamed of yourself, Johnnie Stewart!"

But then she sighed and said: "Come on, Jen, 'old gal' fits you to a tee these days."

After some reflection she said a soft:

"Yes, I guess it does."

The next day, Jennie was out early for her shopping. She liked to get to the big super market before there was a crowd out and shopping. She lingered just a little bit over the things that she wanted. As was her sometimes practice, she'd gotten up, combed her hair, cleaned her teeth, put on a pair of old jeans and a tee shirt and, after one cup of coffee, was off to the market. It was a routine that she used to get her up and going early. She always gave herself a lovely hot shower or a bath, when she got back.

When she got back to the house, Johnnie was already setting up his ladder and they waved. He seemed busy, so she decided that she'd wait and invite him for some coffee after a bit. She bought some croissants and a few apple fritters, to tempt him with. She got her things put away and, with another cup of coffee in hand, went upstairs.

At the very end of the hall way was the bathroom. It was a huge thing, a room which she really loved, and knew that it was one of Andy's favorites. Originally, the bathroom had a door from the landing and one from the big bedroom. They had changed that and now you got into the bathroom, a master bath, from their bedroom.

Jennie followed her normal practice of shedding her clothes in the bathroom. She took with her a clean pair of panties, pearl white, nylon. They were the 'full to the waist' kind. Some people referred to them as 'grannies', sarcastically, but Jennie didn't care much about what folks would say. She liked things like that to be pretty and saw no need at all for sexy.

The shower felt good, and she lingered in it. She did he hair and dried it. The noise of the dryer drowned out all the outside noises. This was a lovely, relaxing time for Jennie and she always gave herself up to it with a sensualness that she often felt was selfish.

"But it's my one true pleasure!" she said, and that was true. Jennie had never been one for masturbation, so she 'played with herself' only seldom, when the sexual pressure built up in her and she felt that she needed 'release'.

She hummed to herself as she finished with the hair dryer and put it away. She pulled the panties into place, having still the vanity to look at herself in the mirror.

Then she laughed and said: "Maybe 'the old gal' doesn't need all that much anyhow!"

Then she lectured herself: "Now, Jennie Allen, don't you go getting school girl notions in that head of yours."

She was almost talking to herself out loud and didn't notice or hear the noise that Johnnie was making. For he'd finished the first window and was now working on the window to her bedroom.

It happened, as soon as she stepped into the room. She was wearing only that pair of pearl white panties. They were nylon and fairly flimsy. The shadow of her rich dark pubic curls was clearly visible in front and the soft line of her butt crack was just as visible from behind.

As fate at that moment dictated, she'd forgotten something on the bathroom counter and turned, as soon as she entered the bedroom, to get it.

Johnnie Stewart almost fell off of his ladder, when, as he was scraping paint off of the window frame, he looked away from the scraping for an instant, just as Jennie entered the bedroom wearing only her panties. Then she turned to get whatever it was in the bathroom, having already treated Johnnie to a clear view, right through her almost transparent panties, of her pubic triangle, and just as clearly showed him her crack. She had in her hands a tee shirt and her bra.

They saw each other at the very same time, although they had very different reactions to what was taking place.

Johnnie got a major league grin on his face, as he was looking at the lovely, lovely woman in her underwear. Jennie simply dropped the bra and the tee shirt on the floor and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, wide eyed with surprise.

They both moved then at the same time. He began to get down off of the ladder, and Jennie quickly grabbed her bra and tee shirt from the floor and a clean pair of jeans and retreated, blushing furiously, to the sanctuary of the bathroom.

"Oh, my!" she said out loud. "I forgot Johnnie totally. He's going to think that I did that on purpose. Damn, damn!"

She quickly dressed and went hurrying down stairs. Just as she got into the kitchen, Johnnie was knocking on the back door.

She opened the door and he said, a grin on his face:

"My, you look different."

"Oh, Johnnie," she said, "I owe you such an apology; I forgot, silly woman that I am, totally that you were working on those windows. I know that you told me but I was lolly gagging in the bathroom and taking my good old time and ended up ... ended up, I guess, flashing is what they call it."

Johnnie laughed and said:

"Yep, Mrs. A, uh, Jennnie, that's what they call it."

Then he too was serious and said:

"Sorry that I was looking in the window just then; I really wasn't trying to invade your privacy."

"Johnnie, I'm not blaming you. I'm just a addle headed old woman!"

There were tears in her eyes then, and she wasn't sure exactly why. Thoughts swept through her mind, making her wonder if the tears were because she liked it, or she was upset that he'd seen her undressed or what. She guessed that it was the latter that was effecting her right then.

"Hey," he said, "No harm, no foul! It was the nicest thing that I've seen in a year of Sundays!"

"Johnnie Stewart," she said severely, but blushing all the while, "Don't you dare give me that blarney! You just got flashed by old Mrs. Allen, and I'll mind myself in the future and make sure that I behave."

He snorted!

It made her turn around and look at him.

He said, smiling, "I'll go back and finish that window, since the coast is clear!"

She shook her finger at him saying: "Johnnie Stewart, don't you play the fool with me!"

"Gorgeous!" he said softly. "Gorgeous is what I say!"

Then there was a deep silence; one that neither one of them seemed ready to break.

Finally he smiled then and walked to the door that led outside.

Jennie ceased her blushing finally and said to him:

"I'll have coffee and some goodies ready in about a half hour. Will that suit you?"

"Exactly, pretty lady!" he said.

"Johnnie Stewart!" she said sharply, and he left the kitchen laughing merrily.

"Scamp!' she said, shaking her head, and then realized that she was smiling also.

She stopped in her progress and leaned against the kitchen counter and said:

"Oh, Andy, he said gorgeous. He said gorgeous!"

She pushed it out of her mind and went back to the task of fixing coffee for them.

She was ready for him at about the time that she had said. She knew that she should say or do something to lighten the mood, which the accident had created.

She went out to where he was working on the ladder and said:

"Coffee time, Johnnie! You can come in now, I've got my pants on!"

He laughed and hung onto the ladder and said:

"Maybe I don't want to come then."

"Johnnie Stewart!" she said in a threatening voice.

He laughed again and said to her, looking down from his vantage point:

"I'd do almost anything to hear you bark out my name with such authority!"

"You are a devil, Johnnie Stewart!" she said, smiling back at him.

"It's the Marine in me, Mrs A, Jennie," he said.

"Well leave the Marine in you on the ladder and come into the kitchen for coffee and a roll."

"Yes, ma'am," he said actually saluting her.

"Johnnie!" she said in a threatening voice.

"I'm coming now," he said, still chuckling.

They sat down companionably and had the morning coffee that she'd prepared and the goodies that she bought at the store.

"This is a treat, Jennie," he said, and then, grinning began to say: "Almost as big a treat as..."

"Don't you dare!" she shot back at him, turning red.

"Gee, I'd do it, just to watch you blush!" he said. "It makes the prettiness that much more alive!"

"Johnnie, don't talk the fool," she said next, light heartedly.

He looked at her then, and with a straight face, making it obvious that he wasn't joking now said to her:

"I swear to you that I'm only telling the truth!"

She blushed again then, and he said a loud:


"Don't you 'aha' me, Johnnie Stewart," she said, but feebly now and she stopped once she'd said it.

He was looking at her with a kind of question mark on his face, waiting for what she was going to say next.

She said simply: "Thank you!"

He reached out his hand and put his hand over hers, a gesture to make her embarrassment less and comfort her.

"You're welcome," he said, "I'm a man who simply tells the truth."

She looked at him wistfully and said:

"Then it's a truth that I haven't faced or been reminded of for a long, long time!"

Her voice echoed with a kind of pain that he recognized right away.

Leaving his hand on top of hers he said softly:

"Jennie, Dr. Andy was the luckiest man alive!"

"Was he?" she asked, making it an open, seeking question, all of the raillery between them now set aside.

"On my honor as a Marine!" Johnnie said, "He surely was!"

"Oh," she said, sinking into herself a little bit, "I miss my old man. It's kind of less and less as the years go by. I know that. I ... I just don't know if I know how to live any more."

Then she brushed tears away from her cheeks and said:

"I'm sorry, Johnnie, you're such good company, lifting a girl's spirits and I respond with this downer. I apologize."

"You also responded with the greatest show on earth this morning!" he said, getting up to go back to work.

"Johnnie Stewart!" she barked at him.

He was grinning at the door and said to her:

"Yes, ma'am, I'm going, I'm going."

"Impossible!" she said. Then she smiled and said a soft:

"Thank you so much for what you said and for allowing me my little sadness."

"What the lady wants is my duty!" he said, and said it earnestly enough that she believe him and just smiled.

"Lunch will be at noon," she said, "Any preferences?"

"After Marine corps food, if its on the plate, I eat it!" he said, and the both laughed as he went back to work.

They had a very nice lunch. He appreciated the trouble that she took to cook for him, and said so. He also backed off on his kidding about the morning's 'flashing' incident, which she also appreciated.

He left that afternoon promising an early start tomorrow. She said she'd be ready for him, and blushed a bright scarlet, when she realized how it sounded.

He laughed and said quickly:

"Sorry! I promised myself that I was going to behave."

"I don't think you know how!" she said with a hoot.

He laughed again and said: "You might just be right, Jennie; only time will tell."

The rest of the day was a fairly restless one for her. She was pleased that she was having the needed things done on the house. She was also pleased to be in touch with Johnnie Stewart again. She liked him, his infectious good humor, his abundant smile and the loveliness of his manners, which shined through all of the good natured raillery that had been a part of the day.

"And it wouldn't have been so embarrassing," she said to herself severely, "If you had just been paying attention, instead of parading around like a floozy on a runway."

That image broke up her lecture altogether.

"Floozy on a runway!" she repeated and began to laugh and laughed until there were tears trickling down her face. She had to sit down after a bit, she was that weak from laughing.

It was almost as if a mood was on her at that point. She kept up kind of jabbing at herself with the same kinds of words:

"We showed him!" she said, and giggled harder.

"Almost knocked him off the damn ladder!" she said next and fairly choked with laughter.

"Jennie Allen, get a hold of yourself," she said harshly but the demand faded into giggles almost as soon as she'd made it.

"How about that for ingenuity," she crowed next, "There I was flashing a peeping tom on a ladder at my bedroom window."

"Jennie, stop it or you're gonna pee yourself," she said next and went to the kitchen to engage in some kind of chore to settle herself down.

After a bit, much calmer now, she reflected that indeed she'd not had this much fun for many and many a day-month-year!

"And I know you don't mind, Andy Old Man," she said softly. "Johnnie and I were just funning with each other."

"Yeah," came a voice from deep within her, "When you were parading in front of him in your undies!" That set her off laughing again.

Then the waggish voice continued: "And what did you do, as soon as you saw him? You dropped your only cover, the tee shirt, on the damn floor and put your hand to your mouth."

She was laughing by the end of the thought. "What was I thinking?" she reflected.

"That's easy," came the taunting voice: "Well, here's Jennie!"

She had laughing fits again at that and decided to go out to fetch something for dinner, just to get her mind off of it.

Jennie had long ago discovered that she could actually be good company for herself, when she allowed these kinds of personal dialogues to go on, sometimes in her head only and sometimes, like now partially out loud.

But she was left, as she was driving out to fetch some kind of fast food dinner, with the nagging question, the one that all the foolishness had allowed her to avoid:

"How do you feel about what happened? Your accidentally showing yourself to him almost naked?"

The posed question hung there in mid air. She had actually asked herself the question, in order to make it more real, more of a demand. She allowed the silence to stretch on a bit and finally said softly, to the evening, to any spirits listening, and, more than half intentionally to the spirit of her Andy:

"I liked it! That's frightening but I liked it."

After a brief pause, she asked: "Andy, what am I to do."

And she had the feeling right away that for now there was nothing to do. She set the thoughts aside for the moment and simply went on with her errand of getting something to eat.

She opened a bottle of merlot with her fast food bonanza, to make it seem a little more ritzy.

That entire evening Jennie was in an introspective mood. This was not unusual for her, only this time it was not brooding on the loss of Andy. This introspection was a kind of frightening brood on her whole day with Johnnie Stewart around.

She didn't like the way that her thoughts were going, so she shut them off, shut them down and watched a favorite movie on the tv for entertainment.

It worked for her. She got absorbed in the movie and thought no more about the day's little mishap. At least she didn't think of it any more until it was almost time for her to go to bed.

That night in the dark, in bed she did something that was unusual for her. She was in a mellow mood, and in the dark, giving it little forethought, she let her fingers creep across her stomach and to the waist band of her panties.

She hadn't worn a nightgown to bed, only the panties. She so rarely did this, allowed herself this kind of treat, that she was panting about it, almost from the very start.

The fingers of the invading hand crept down inside the waist band of her panties and across the plane of her stomach. They came to rest, she stopped them for a few seconds, just at the edge of her pubic hair. But she realized quickly that the stopping wasn't to halt the operation at all but only to let the anticipation build.

Then the fingers moved slowly lower and finally they were entwined in the curls of her pubic hair.

"Ohhhhhhhh!" she said and then she stopped for a long moment and gave utterance to the thought that was dominating her mind just then:

"He said 'gorgeous'; it's what he said!"

With those words, she worked her clever fingers into the wetness of her own pussy, past the pubic hair, past the lips, which seemed to be a bit swollen with the lust that had settled so heavily on Jennie right then. The fingers were exploring the inner crease of her vaginal lips, and Jennie had her head sunk into the pillow, her eyes closed and her head moving slowly from side to side making excited, soft noises.

She pushed another finger in to join the first one, and it create more of a fullness.

"Oh this is what I need, this fullness, is what I need, need, need!" she moaned to herself, and with one finger sought and found the button of her clitoris and began to stimulate it.

It had been indeed a long time, since Jennie had allowed herself such a lovely sexual outlet as this, and she was sinking deep into the enjoyment of it, her hands doing the work of a phantom lover, and doing it well.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" she moaned to the night, to the shadows, to the dark and to the silent contents of her own now somewhat conflicted heart.

I felt nice but really it felt much more than just nice. It was almost like her spirit being tugged in a new direction, and the shades of the past seemed to be urging her in that new direction also. She fought those thoughts and simply concentrated on the educated fingers that were plundering her pussy and doing it so very well.

Then she knew what was coming and grabbed the pillow with her free hand, wrenching the hand from playing with her nipple and put the pillow over her face and simply bellowing her orgasm's force, simply hollered!

She calmed down then and said a long, heart felt:


She lay her head back and said quietly: "I must do that more often!"

She thought about it, a smile wreathing her features and said as softly:

"Yep, more often!"

The little voice that was part of her inner dialogue so often spoke up then:

"Time to live Jennie!"

"Yes," was her simple reply, for she knew the truth of what had been expressed.

"And he'd want it, Jennie!" came next.

This also got the simple reply: "Yes," and fewer tears accompanied that realization than she might have thought, pushing her in the direction of thinking that maybe, after all it was time.

Then she had a notion. It was, she thought at first, a silly notion but the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to follow it out.

So, she was out of bed and at her closet in a few seconds, actually pleased to be padding around in the bedroom, even in the dark wearing, again, only panties. Without thinking, she cast a glance at the window half expecting or hoping for his face but of course it wasn't there.

She went on with her task. Pulling the curtains closed, she wasn't ready to expose herself to the world just yet, she put on the light. Then she went downstairs, after thinking for a moment, and came back soon bearing a glass of merlot for herself.

Then it was into the closet, get the box from the back of the closet and set it on the bed. She opened the lid and there it was. There was her finery! All her sexy underwear. She was almost overwhelmed by the variety of fabrics and colors, shapes and kinds of garments.

She giggled.

She sat on the bed then and thought a bit about the two things that she'd done. She loved the masturbation and how powerful it had been for her, and she was silly pleased with the possibility of wearing the sexy panties and sets again.

It even made her light headed. She finished her wine and lay down in bed, drifting off with lovely, sensuous thoughts.

She made sure the next day that she didn't get caught in the same way. She took her shower early, and was dressed immediately afterwards. She went to the kitchen and backed cinnamon rolls to have something for Johnnie, when he came to work on the house.

She was smiling, as he drove up. As he got out of the truck with a sporty:

"Hi, Jennie!"

She greeted him: "Johnnie, good morning; I have a surprise for you!"

"Good," he said, with a wide grin on his face, "Which window shall I put the ladder up to?"

She squealed in positive delight, covering her mouth again with her hand.

"You are such a pleasure to tease!" he said. "I'm sorry, Jennie, what's the surprise?"

"Well, it's not what you were thinking it would be, you devil!"

He grinned at her.

"I have home made cinnamon rolls for us this morning!" she said proudly.

"Then good for us, almost as good as the bedroom follies, as viewed from a ladder outside of the window! The classic stance of the ever seeking peeping tom."

She was giggling wildly at what he was saying.

"Stop it now, or you'll have me peeing myself!" she said tears from the laughter floating down her cheeks.

"Gee that's almost enough incentive to keep on until it happens," he said then.

"Johnnie Stewart!" she said sharply, through her laughter.

"I was wondering how long it would take you today for the first 'Johnnie Stewart'," he said, "Not bad either, within the first 10 minutes."

"Heathen!" she said.

"I am not," he replied, "I'm a Methodist."' Once again he had her laughing and met her for a morning hug, which seemed to be the most natural thing to do for both of them.

"Come on into the kitchen," she said.

"I love this old house," he said, as he sat at the table, watching her getting things ready for the two of them.

"It was Andy's pride," she said.

"I know," he said softly, "That makes it extra special to you, I realize."

She looked at him and said simply and earnestly:

"Yes, Johnnie, it does; he was a special man. He was ... he was my man!"

"It must be a terrible feeling," he said to her then.

She looked at him and said: "Thank you; it is, has been, and, I'm relieved to say, is kind of fading to a point where it can rest and not cloud my nights and days quite so much."

"Relief?" he asked.

"Definitely," she said, "Relief. But there'll always be a spot in my heart for my Andy."

"Wonderful woman!" he said simply, "Strong loves, intensely felt, always held onto."

He stopped then and said to her: "Sorry, I'm embarrassing you."

"Well, Johnnie," she said, "Surprising me, surely, but maybe not embarrassing me. I'm trying to kind of forge a new me."

"New you?" he asked, hastening to get away from the statement that he'd made, which was certainly heart felt, but, he was afraid, was exposing too much of himself.

"Yes, getting away from the mope, from the whole idea of burying myself in a middle age that maybe I shouldn't be ready for yet. I don't know. The ideas are only forming themselves right now but that's the way it feels, anyhow."

"A difficult but probably rewarding task," he said.

"Yes," she answered, "I suppose you'd know; I suspect that Marine training was like that for you."

He thought and said: "Yes, yes it was, and it too made a kind of an impression that isn't gone, won't be gone and will always be a part of me. I'm not trying to belittle your love for Dr. Andy by making a flip comparisons, it just feels like it's the same thing."

"I know that you're not being flip, Johnnie; I appreciate the sensitivity that you're giving me about the part of me where my Andy still can be found. It's a rare gift that you're giving."

He'd finished a cup of coffee and two cinnamon rolls and said to her:

"Hey, thanks for this, Mrs A, ... Jennie, sorry! I guess I'd better get to work before our discussion takes both of us into territory more morose than we want on so bright and sunny a morning."

"Johnnie Stewart," she said, reaching out to stroke his cheek, "You're a very caring man!"

"Thank you for noticing," he said and was off to work.

He told her of his plan for the day. It was his intention that day to scrape the rest of the windows, and then paint.

Jennie got a pixyish look on her face and promised to keep her clothes on, at least whenever she was in a room where he was ogling at the window.

"Ogling!" he almost shouted, "Ogling the lady says! I was doing work that I agreed to do; minding my own business and she prances into the room tits bouncing, and wearing panties that couldn't hide anything even if she wanted to hide it!"

Jennie squeaked, when he got to the part of his oration about 'tits'. It brought a huge grin to his face.

"It makes it worth it for me to engage in verbal battles with you just to see you turn red and make those, sexy noises!" he said, and held his hands up in the air, as she turned and was about to storm at him.

"I'm going, I'm going, I'm going! To work, just to work! Don't throw anything!"

"You devil!" she said to his retreating back, while both of them broke into laughter.

She sat down then to another cup of coffee, knowing that she would have to think this through a bit. It was certainly heady. She had no illusions about his intentions; he was being a brat to get a rise out of her, and it was working, she realized, much to her delight.

But then too there had been some interchanges that were among the most sensitive that were possible. It was these that she turned over in her mind, to look at, to feel and to try to figure out a bit. She wasn't sure that she was actually surprised because he'd always seemed to her to be sensitive. But some of what he had to say to her made a real impression. It gave her food for thought.

She moved to clean up and begin to plan some lunch, when the other thing that he'd said hit her. It was his big jest but it gave her a sense of heat that she was not used to feeling. She remembered what he said about her panties not hiding anything, even if she wanted to. The thought struck her and she was determined to see the truth of it. She certainly hadn't noticed but he obviously had.

She went to the bedroom, making sure that he was not working on one of those windows. Then she went into the bathroom and took her clothes off. She knew that she wanted this to look exactly like it looked then. She took her panties off, a pair of beige 'grannies' today, and put on the ones from yesterday, that she fished out of the hamper. She stood then in front of the mirror and gasped.

"He was right!" she said, eyes wide and staring.

The panties hid nothing. She turned around, as she knew she had inadvertently in the bedroom and checked it out.

"There they were," she thought, "On public display, at least public display if you're Johnnie Stewart and are right outside the window."

For she could readily see her pubic hair and, when turned around, her crack. Then Jennie surprised herself almost totally. She wasn't embarrassed; she wasn't abashed; she wasn't dismayed. Jennie Allen looked at herself, remembered that this is what he saw, and said he saw, with a quick hand movement, she flicked a nipple, which made her squeak, and she positively sat down on the lid of the toilet and giggled.

She hustled back into her clothes, and went to the kitchen. There was now a kind of perpetual smile plastered on her face, since she realized the truth of the matter: namely, that she really and truly had flashed Johnnie Stewart.

"Of course it was inadvertent," she reasoned with herself.

"But it sure as heck must have been impressive!" was her next idea.

Then she heard him clattering about and went on with the lunch that she was preparing. She went outside to call him to lunch, and found him around the other side of the house on the ladder working. He didn't notice her at first. He'd taken his shirt off because it was getting warm, and she noticed, at his waist, riding a little bit above the belt of his shorts, was an edge of what looked like royal purple nylon.

"That's his underwear!" she said to herself, rooted to the spot, as she stared and wondered to herself what kind of garment it cold be.

"Uh, Johnnie," she said, and he turned to look at her.

Then it was worse because he had a row of dark hair that began at his navel and disappeared into the royal purple band and into his shorts. Jennie blushed a deep scarlet.

If he noticed, he was being nice enough not to mention it. But it certainly made an impression on her. She pushed it to the back of her mind for later on.

He came soon afterwards, smiling at her. She realized that she could hardly look at him, now that she knew the way that she had actually looked from his window vantage point.

She also knew that she had to say something.

"What's wrong?" he asked her. "You're upset."

"Uh, yes," she said slowly, trying to think her way through this. "I, uh, have an apology to make, kind of."

"An apology 'kind of'?" he asked, not understanding.

She heaved a huge sigh and said: "I thought of what you said, you know, about the 'ogling' thing."

"Yes," he said, determined now not to give her any help but to let her struggle through whatever this was by herself.

"Well, I, uh, went upstairs and, uh, dressed again in what I had on then, you see," she said.

"No, I didn't this time, too bad," he said with a smirk.

"Johnnie!" she said with some exasperation, and he realized that she was serious about this and stopped fooling with her.

"Go on," he said, also serious now.

"Well, you were right; when I came out of the bathroom, I was really, I guess, on display, I mean all of me! Not necessarily a pretty sight!" Then she halted, she didn't know how to go on or what to say. There were tears on her cheeks and every one of her instincts was to run away.

He was up and over to her in a second. His arms around her, holding her close.

"Don't you say that; don't you think that. Accident, yes! I know that; you know that but gorgeous sight nevertheless. Siren! Beauty! Amazing."

"Oh, Johnnie," she said in a distressed voice, "I don't know why I'm carrying on this way about such a silly incident."

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