Unexpected Interlude
A Spray Fantasy
by Adamantine_Jellyfish
I pull up to the right address and set the parking brake. With my hazards on, I exit the vehicle. After setting the chocks and laying out cones, I look up at the two maples in the front yard. The maples are the target of this visit and I gauge the wind and size of the trees as I walk up the bluestone path to the front door.
I've been to this house before and vaguely recall the client, a bubbly housewife that seems overly enthusiastic in an endearing sort of way. A little thick in the hips maybe, but definitely something worth thinking about in the shower after work. I certainly have.
Fantasies like that are just fantasy though — they never
actually
happen.
I knock on the door and ring the bell. In response I hear far-off bumps and thumps getting louder as someone approaches the door. It opens on the woman I remember. She is wearing yoga pants and a loose orange tank top, sans bra, that is stretched tight over her ample bosom. She flashes a radiant smile and looks at me expectantly.
"Hey there, I'm Frank with Hometown Tree. I'm here to spray your trees for-"
"Oh yes! I'm so glad you're here." She smiles again, "I've been wondering when you would show up. You're the same guy from last year right?"
"Yes I-"
"Of course you are. I remember now," she says as she tucks her chestnut brown hair behind her ear.
"Yeah, I remember you too. What was your name again?" I ask, trying not to look at her large, barely clothed breasts.
"My name's Lynn." She smiles warmly, looking me up and down.
"OK, great. Well, Lynn, if you could-"
"Hey, while I have you right here, can you help me inside? I need some strong hands, but my husband is golfing again," she says with a sigh of exasperation.
"Umm, yeah, I-I guess I could. Sure," I say uncertainly, with a quick smile. It's not often I have call to be in a client's home.
"It'll just take a second. Come on in."
As she disappears down the hallway, I step into the foyer and close the door. I slip off my muck boots, not wanting to dirty the hardwood floor. It looks like a nice place from what I can see.
"In here!" she calls.
I follow the sound of her voice into the living room. She is bent over at the waist, rummaging around in a bucket of cleaning stuff. The outlines of her panties are well defined beneath her black yoga pants. "So Lynn, doing some cleaning?" I say, as I stare at her shapely middle-aged ass.
"Yeah, I'm pretty much always cleaning, cooking, and just housewifing," she says with a slightly bitter note.
"Well, how can I help?" I ask.
"Hmm, I wish I heard those words around here more often," she says. She points at a step ladder in the corner. "Can you grab that ladder and set it under the ceiling fan? I've got to get up there and dust."
"Sure can," I say, as I get the ladder and set it up.
"Thanks. Can you hold it for me? I'm always afraid of falling when I'm here all alone."
All alone, huh? I wonder if she is coming on to me a bit? The ladder is short and I don't think she actually needs my help. She keeps complaining about her husband too.... "No kids to help you out?" I ask.
"Ha. Nope. Another thing my husband can't help me with," she says.
"Oh," I say, my eyes widening at the personal revelation,"I'm sorry to hear that."
"No. I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you that. Anyway, let's get me up there and you back to work."