Chapter 2

A week after Sarah moved in, an ad appeared in the local rag and at Johnny's Hardware and Grocery on the community bulletin board:

Wanted:
Boy to help with general handyman work. Good
pay if you do good work. Call Sarah at 4237.

With a local population of nearly a thousand spread around half a dozen tiny communities, Sarah figured she'd get maybe three or four calls. There wasn't any rush. She was a patient and careful woman and she had plenty to do to keep herself occupied.

From the time she was in her mid-teens, Sarah had been pursuing a pastime she found very entertaining and rewarding, though not in any really profitable way. She loved to write. She wrote all kinds of stories and poems but she had a special interest at which she excelled and could easily spent hours every day. Erotic stories. She started writing them because it was so hard to find erotic literature of any quality. Most of the stuff she found online seemed to be aimed at how much fucking could be written onto a single page. In her opinion, there was a distinct line between raw porn and sensual, erotic stories. In frustration, she sat thinking to herself that she could certainly do better than that. On her very first attempt, she found that she could write stories that were exquisitely sensual yet gentle, tender and thought provoking. She published several of her early works on the Internet and got very positive responses, encouraging her to work even harder, eventually attracting the interest of a book publisher. Since her late teens, Sarah had actually published four books of erotic short stories under the pen name 'Willow'. Her boys provided much of the inspiration for her work.

The first response to her ad came three days after it was posted. Even on the telephone, Sarah could tell two things right away; the caller was a man, not a boy and he sounded about half stewed.

She asked him outright, "How old are you?"

There was a hesitation. "Well, I'm forty-four, but I need the work."

"Mister, this ain't no reg'lar job fer a man. It's to give some kid some extry pocket-money." This in her best uneducated colloquial vernacular.

"Well, but I need the work more'n some snot-nose kid. I got kids o' my own to feed!"

"You know what? You sound drunk to me."

"Yeah, well, I recon I might'a had a few. So what?"

Sarah lost patience with the man. "If you got kids to feed, why in hell are you drinkin' up their lunch money. Now you go out and get you a proper job so you can take proper care of them kids, you hear?" She cut the connection to emphasize the point. His call was no surprise. She usually had to wade through several interviews to find the boys she wanted. A second call later that morning sounded more promising.

"Hello," she answered.

"Uh, hi! Is this Sarah?"

"It is. Who are you?"

"Oh, uh, my name's Wendell Chaffin and I'm calling about the notice on the bulletin board down at Johnny's. You know, about the job?"

"Yeah, I know. How old are you, Wendell?"

"Well, I'm fifteen but I'll be sixteen in a couple of months."

"Can you handle hard work, Wendell?"

"Yes Ma'am, I sure can."

"You come up and we'll talk. You know where Bert Wilson used to live?"

"Yes, Ma'am; up on the mountain."

"That's right. Well, I bought that place. When can you be here?"

"I can come up now if you want. It'll take me about a half hour to get there."

"Come ready to work, Wendell!"

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm on my way."

Nice manners. She liked the kid already and hoped he'd fit the bill. Sarah began getting ready for her first personal interview. Before putting on the frumpy old dress, she strapped on a latex mass in the shape of oversized, pendulous boobs, big belly and ginormous ass. The gray wig was next. Sitting at her dressing table, she carefully applied facial lines and wrinkles with practiced expertise. He'd be looking at her through the screen door so he wouldn't be able to see that her age was painted on. She smiled as she slipped her feet into some floppy house shoes and stood sipping tea at the door as she awaited his arrival.

In a few minutes, the motion detector picked him up and turned on the camera. She checked the monitor when it beeped and saw him trudging up the steep road toward the house. When he appeared from behind the trees, she could see he wasn't very big. That wasn't a barrier, though, as long as he could handle the 'work'. When he climbed the steps and knocked on her screen door, she was standing back a couple of feet so he couldn't see her clearly.

"You Wendell?"

"Yes, Ma'am." He appeared to be about five foot six, maybe an inch or two shorter than she was. He was a good-looking kid, though. He had auburn hair that flopped over his eyes, clear skin with no zits that she could see and his arms already had the wiry muscles of someone who was no stranger to physical labor.

"What grade are you in, Wendell?"

"I'll be in eleventh grade startin' September."

"You make good grades?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm hopin' to go to college. I'm savin' up money for that"

"Good for you, Wendell. How much money do you want to cut and split wood?"

"Well, Ma'am, that's pretty hard work. I think maybe ten an hour would be about right, don't you?"

"Sounds fair to me. You get the chain saw and the axe and some gasoline out of the shed on the side of the house and take them with you. If you go over the top of the mountain, you'll see a cabin. There's two dead trees in front of it that are already cut down and waiting for someone to cut 'em up into fire wood."

"You want me to start now?"

"Unless you got somethin' better to do."

"No, Ma'am. I'll get right on it. I thank you for the work." He turned to go find the tools.

"Oh, one thing, Wendell. My niece is stayin' in that cabin for a spell. She's a little strange but she's harmless. She gets kind of flirty sometimes but don't pay her no mind. Bring the tools back to the house when you're done and I'll pay you for your work."

"Yes, Ma'am. And thanks again."

When she saw him heading up the hill lugging the tools and gasoline, she hurried into the bedroom to change. The makeup came off with a warm, damp washcloth. She stripped bare and slipped into a short, very form-fitting dress with a V-cut front that displayed her ample breasts nicely and came down to halfway between her butt and her knees. No underwear. A little spritz of some expensive and evocative perfume and she was ready. She slid her feet into a pair of ratty-looking sneakers and pushed the button on the remote to open the tunnel, taking a quick glance at her reflection in the full-length mirror before heading for the cabin. By the time the false wall in the cabin closed behind her, she could see him walking down the mountain toward the downed trees.

There was no rush. She'd let him get started and work up a sweat before she made herself known. God, she loved this game! Wendell kept glancing suspiciously at the cabin, obviously concerned about the 'strange' niece supposedly in residence. It was a bright, sunny day and dark inside the cabin so she could watch him without being seen.

He took off his T-shirt and laid it on one of the trees, then checked the gas and chain-oil levels before cranking up the saw and attacking the limbs. For a boy, he showed remarkable skill and he obviously knew what he was doing. By the time he had the first tree stripped of limbs and cut into logs ready for splitting, he was dripping with sweat. It was time for Sarah to go into action.

She took several deep breaths, getting into her persona. Reaching under the sink into the tiny refrigerator, she took out an ice-cold bottle of water and headed out to introduce herself. His back was to her when she opened the door and he didn't hear her coming as she walked up and stood directly behind him.

"Hi!" she said, nearly causing him to jump out of his skin. He spun around and backed up a couple of steps and stood looking at her, unable to keep his eyes from drifting to the boobs practically falling out of her dress.

She put on her prettiest smile and continued, "My name is Mona. What's yours?"

"It's uh, it's Wendell. Are you Sarah's niece?"

"I sure am. I guess she told you abut me, huh?" The boy was slim, well proportioned and fit with a well-developed chest for his age and a prominent six-pack for a belly. His jeans were loose fitting so she couldn't guess what he was hiding in his shorts but it really didn't matter much. She was more interested in the skill of the operator than she was in the size of the tool.

Wendell just nodded his head in response to her question. He caught her eyes looking at him looking at her boobs again and blushed, shifting his gaze to his feet. He couldn't think of a single thing to say.

Holding the bottle of water out, she said, "Here! I was watching you work and figured you could use a little break."

He gave her a little smile and took the bottle, opening it and sucking down nearly half. "Thank you, Ma'am. I appreciate your kindness."

"I'm Mona, Wendell. I'm not a ma'am."

"Sorry, Ma – Mona. I'll try to remember."

Sarah/Mona began her well-practiced and usually successful seduction program in earnest. Moving to where the sun was directly behind her and shining between her legs through the thin dress, she stood with her feet apart presenting him with a view no straight male worth his hormones could resist looking at. It was for sure the kid was no poker player: She knew he could see a clear outline of her crotch because his eyes fixed on it and grew wide for a moment before he could make himself look away in embarrassment. "You're kind of cute, Wendell. You got a girlfriend?"

"Well, nobody steady yet but I've gone out with this one girl a few times."

"I think a girl would be lucky to get a good-lookin' guy like you. Hey, could I show you something in my cabin?"

The poor boy visibly blanched. "Well, uh, I should probably get back to work 'cause I still have a lot to do. But thank you for the invitation, anyhow."

He started to turn away and reach for the chainsaw but she grabbed his hand and said, "Oh, come on, Wendell. It'll only take a minute. I think you need a little rest anyhow. I don't bite, at least not hard enough to hurt." She laughed and pulled him toward the open door of the cabin.

Once inside, she put her arm over his bare shoulder, pressing a firm breast against his arm and asked, "So what do you think?"

It was designed to look rustic, of course but it was also clean and neat. Wendell took a quick look around and nodded his head, "It's really nice, Mona. I guess I should get back to work now." He started to pull away but she kept a firm grip on his shoulder.

"In a minute. I was wondering if you could help me with a problem. Do you know a lot about computers?"