"Now this is a check for the 'paper," she said, bending it and ripping it from the pad. She held it between fingers, though, and rummaged in her purse rather than handing it to him, so he waited. "And this," she went on, "this is another twenty for you, for doing such a good job. All right?" Both the twenty and the check passed to his hand.
"Wow, thanks."
"No, thank you!" She flashed a brilliant smile. "It's so cold out there in the morning all the time. Now, before you go, I have to show you something; come on." She led briskly to the front door, where he delivered the News. For Mrs. Gilbert, he put it between the doors, shutting it behind the screen door every morning. She was demonstrating.
"I get the door open, like this, and then look!" Mrs. Gilbert bent down and stretched an arm in on the jamb by the screen door. Her housecoat, pale pink and featureless, shrouded her bottom, which was up in the air. So there was nothing to see but pink cloth and a pair of feet at the base of the structure. "Do you see?" came her voice from behind the pink mass.
"I guess I don't; what's the problem?"
She straightened up, puffing air to lift a strand of hair off her face. "Well, for one thing, it's always cold and, ah..." she fluttered a hand at her chest, "you know." Mrs. Gilbert grinned at him as though they were sharing a little joke. "I'm still in my nightie, and the chill hits, you know?" His blank look told her plainly that he did not.
"Never mind, then, um, look! You do it! Open the door and go down to get the 'paper." He hesitated. "Just do it, it can't hurt or anything! Bend down and when you get down all the way, stop."
Mrs. Gilbert came up behind him and placed a hand on top of his hips, which made him jump a little. "My legs are longer than yours," she remarked, "even though I'm shorter. So I probably have to bend more. Don't you feel it, the stretch right back here and just there, excuse me, right there at the top of the thigh?"
She illustrated, pushing fingers over the small of his back and then tracing a line between his buttock and thigh. He straightened again, pretty fast, a little pink in the face.
She turned her bottom to him and traced the same line on her own body with a slow fingertip, pushing her hip out. "Right along there, just at the very top of my leg..."
Now I got him looking!
she exulted. "Here, let me show you again."
Down she went again. "Come over and compare, I bet my legs are taller than yours."
He stepped in next to her. "Yep."
"Now feel right where I showed you. Put both hands on! Good, now I'm going to bend over again, and you hold on right there. Feel it? Feel the muscle stretching?"
"Uh..."
"Grab right on firm so you can feel, and I'll go again. Feel it?"
"...Yeah."
"Want me to do it some more?"
"What? Sure..."
"Spread your hands out and cover the whole area. Now hold on, here I go."
As she bent her hips seemed to open and her pussy pushed bluntly out against his hand. He pulled his hand away so as not to be handling her there, but she reached behind and held his hand in against it with a cool palm.
"The whole area stretches," she said. "Moosh it."
"What?"
"Moosh it, move the flesh around. Good, one more time... Okay, now stay right there while I stand up some. There, that's about halfway, moosh it again."
"Like that?"
"Great, yeah, feel how it's soft now?"
"It was soft before, too."
"But it was taut when I was bent down, firmer than it is now. I'll do it again, moosh everything and feel the difference." A whole minute passed while she bent and came up a few times with the boy's hands all over her, probing and feeling carefully.
"Anyway! You see what I mean, right?"
She stood and turned and he withdrew. He was agreeing, but in truth his brain had put out a sign, BUSY NOW, TRY AGAIN LATER. She concluded by requesting the 'paper be put entirely inside the house on the little table by the door, and eased him out the door and away.
Mary skipped upstairs to masturbate right then, not wanting to wait even a second. Poor Glenn had to wait until he got home. But there would be a next time, when he came around to collect again, and they both were looking forward to it.
__________
Glenn was eighteen, a little old to be a paperboy, but his little sister had scarletina and he was being a hero. There were some creepy characters on the route, some strange smells, and some hostility. But Mrs. Gilbert was in a class by herself.
Mary Gilbert heard the knock and recognized the shape in the doorway when Sunday arrived. Glenn was red-faced and tongue-tied, so sweet! She took her time fetching the money for him, basking in his avid gaze, conscious of his concupiscent attention. It was easy to feel that she could ask him to do anything, no matter what.
"Do you have something to say to me, Glenn?" she asked innocently as she passed over the money, but he denied it. "I'm sorry I confused you last time--"
"Oh, that's all right, Mrs. Gilbert!"
"Did you ever figure it out, what I said about the cold air down between the doors?"
"The cold air...?"
"Remember? I said it was always cold and the chill hit my chest?"
Something of the sort percolated up from the welter of emotion; Glenn was imagining he might be able to remember what she was asking about if he could only think a little better. "Mm." he said.
"Let me show you the nightie, you'll see what I mean. Come on upstairs, it'll only take a second." She chatted about the paper route as she led him up to her room.
On the way up, he finally formed a good memory of her talk the week before about the chill hitting. At the top of the stair he told her he remembered, but he never did figure out what she had been talking about.
"Well, this will show you. My bedroom! And here on the chair is the nightie. See, this sort of thing is all I have on," she held the filmy gauze up to her chest, "when I come down in the morning. I was wearing this very one, the last time I talked to you! Just this and a little gauze panty to match, nothing else, under the housecoat...
"Anyway, you see," she ran a hand inside it, "it doesn't cover much, and I don't have a bra on, of course, when I'm in bed. Understand?"
"I see, but what about the cold?"
"Well, it always makes my nipples stand up!" She laughed to see his face. "Don't you ever watch, in the frozen foods aisle at the supermarket? I thought all boys knew that trick! All the ladies bend down and their nipples get hard!"
"I didn't know..." he blurted.
"Well, you do now! I'm sorry, don't be upset--"
"Oh, I'm not!"
"Oh, good." She beamed on him. His eyes kept sliding away from her.
What could he be looking at?,
she wondered. She turned her head to follow his gaze. On the floor next to the bed lay her dildo! "Oh!" she exclaimed. But inwardly she was delighted.
He'll be a while getting to sleep tonight, I bet! I'll tell him what it's for, it'll drive him nuts!
With an evil joy in her breast she bent down and plucked it up, holding it to her chest along with the nightgown. "I'm alone now, since my husband died, so I use this quite a bit; I'll put it away. It goes here in the nightstand, where I can always reach it if I want it." She spoke as calmly as she could, but he was shaken. He could only nod, not speak. She shut it in the drawer. "Haven't you ever seen one?"
He shook his head, eyes wide.
"They're called vibrators, they have a little motor that hums and makes them vibrate. Well! That's it, I guess! You have anything you want to ask me, now?"
With a sweet smile she took in the spectacle. Glenn was speechless. Looking at him, so disoriented and malleable, pushed her on to the next step.
"Poor boy, I've been talking over your head, haven't I?"
"No, I.. I get ya."
"So you know what I do with the vibrator?"
"Yeah."
"So where do I put it?" He made a strangled noise. "When I use it, what do I do?"
"Jeez, Mrs. Gilbert..."
"Go ahead! I take it in my hand, turn it on, and then..?"
