My name is Linda Blain. I am an established fashion designer in my mid forties. Alistair, my late husband, was a psychologist .he'd developed a very successful private practice. We lived in a charming Devon country home by the river Fen near Fenley in the early eighties, a beautiful unspoilt typically English village situated just three miles away from our home. Ben, my gardener and odd job man, kept everything in top notch. He knew exactly how I liked the flora. His work was impressive and, like the woman I am - giving credit where it is due - I complimented him - perhaps a little too much.
But he was rather yummy to say the least and have to admit that on the rare days I was at home and he was doing my gardening, I loved just to sit and watch, that hunk of a young male figure did everything for me and made me realise just how much I missed a man.
It had been two years since Alistair died in a car crash and I missed him terribly, Although to be honest our sex life was not all that exciting, come Saturday night, our 'night of love' it was the same old thing like making it by numbers. I generality looked up at the ceiling remembering that my Mum always said, look up at the ceiling and think of England.
It wasn't that I didn't love him, because I did, but you know the spark had worn off and I often found myself having the hots for young Ben. Sometimes I even imagined it was him instead of Alistair but that wasn't the same.
Now I was free my mind wondered to fresh thoughts and speaking to my pal Janice she came out with it that she had got herself a brand new toy boy and how divine he was. Just what she needed to be rid of the cobwebs of her former hubby who was well and truly rid of, she said.
"You feel happier now with a younger guy?"
"I feel absolutely in my element and really wanted again for the woman I am," she replied with a really happy glow on her face, a glow that said she was well and truly in a very torrid affair. So then there was me feeling somewhat envious.
"So what about you, Linda I know you like your young gardener" asked Janice knowing my feelings about Ben. I had told her about the time he did some decorating ion the kitchen and in a very gentle way tried it on with me, but I was a married woman then and as much as his searching hands excited me I did not encourage, but I guess he knows now that because I never scorned him, I must be up for a second chance.
I hoped so. I told Janice. She said that a jolly good seeing to would make the world of difference and it was about time I let myself go.
Well she certainly looked the better for it and she confided in me that it was an ongoing thing that meant several visits to Ann Summers; "if you know what I mean!" she added.
That night I just could not stop thinking of what Janice said and could not help thinking just how it would be with this very sexy gardener of mine. I don't mind admitting I had three orgasms just fantasising. But the time for imagining was over and I needed the real thing/ "So Linda Blain?" I said to myself. "Go for it."
Ben's next visit was Tuesday, he did two days a week generally maintaining my garden and he certainly had green fingers the way he made those rosés look. Just watching him tend to them was a sheer delight his fingers so delicately dead heading and removing dead growth, the times I had wondered just how he was in bed and how a shiver went up my spine just thinking about that - and when he saw me looking , that wonderful broad smile, now I was thinking poor guy, my having turned him away that time, he must have thought he was really onto something the way I kept looking.
Now was the time to remedy all that. If he still wanted me, maybe he has a girl friend now, gosh! I hope not, that would be my luck! "Keep thinking positive. Linda"
I arranged to take the following Tuesday off, it was a hot summer day so I but my shortest of shorts on and a sheer nylon top with a red laced bra just to help the maleness in Ben tingle. I'd lounge in the conservatory and invite Ben in for coffee after I'd enjoyed watching him bending on his knees hand weeding the flower bed. He looked absolutely riveting in his tight fitting torn jeans which did everything for him and me!
This time Ben quickly got the message that I was on for him, whether it was that certain chemical attraction I didn't know but he must have seen the lust in my eyes as I swayed provocatively when bringing his coffee out from the kitchen.
