An interesting request for my services showed up in my mailbox. So far, in my somewhat fledgling business, all my new customers had called me on the phone to request an estimate or make an appointment for me to work for them. This was the first letter I'd received . . .
Dear sir,
I live off the grid in the far north-eastern
part of the County. If you are willing to work
this far from the city, please write back to me.
I have no electric, phone or email.
Thank you,
Jeanie Wills
I was intrigued, and work was a little slow around town, so I wrote back telling her I'd be happy to drive up and see her. I told her my labor rate, gave her a few dates and times to pick from, and after receiving another note from her I was off, driving into a deeply forested area about thirty miles from the city.
I located the mailbox with her name on it and turned onto a rutted dirt driveway. It rose gradually through the dense forest to a large clearing on the top of a hill, with beautiful views in all directions. The Wills homestead looked like it was right out of nineteenth century Appalachia — a small cabin with unstained rough-cut siding, a rusty metal roof, even the doors and windows looked like they were hand made long ago. The cabin was surrounded by homemade fences corralling a shaggy old horse, two goats, and some pigs. There was a small barn, and gardens on either side of the driveway — a massive vegetable garden on one side, and a huge field filled with flowers on the other. Chickens were running around everywhere. They scattered as I drove in.
I parked next to a rusty thirty-year-old pickup truck, and a scraggly looking but friendly cat greeted me as I stepped out of my truck. It was a beautiful sunny day, and the air was perfumed with a mix of flowers and manure. It was strangely intoxicating.
"You must be Steve. I'm Jeanie Wills," I heard a woman's voice behind me say.
Jeanie had emerged from the flower garden with a wheelbarrow piled high weeds. She parked it next to me and extended her hand.
"I see you've met George," she said, looking at the cat rubbing all around my ankles.
Jeanie looked serious, but had a kind looking face, with big ice-blue eyes set off by sun-bleached blonde hair and a dark tan. There were prominent streaks of grey in her long hair, and she had it pulled back behind her ears. She was wearing a halter style top that looked a bit like a bikini, an ankle length skirt, and old sandals. The clothes looked homemade but fit her well, and she was adorned with an interesting looking beaded necklace and silver rings on several on her fingers.
"It's nice to meet you Jeanie," I said as I shook her strong hand.
"Well it's awfully nice to meet you too. I've had a heck of a time gettin' anybody to come out here to work for me," she said. I detected a down-state accent, or maybe New Jersey. "Ever since my arm started acting up, I've had trouble doing everything around here," she said, holding up her bandaged left wrist. "I hired a couple different local guys to do a few things, but they turned out to be dumb rednecks, just tryin' to get in my pants the whole time they were here. If they were good lookin' I wouldn't have minded so much, but...they weren't." She laughed, and it lit up her tired face.
"Well, I'll be glad to help you out with whatever I can," I said. "Work around town's kinda slow at the moment, so this is a nice change of pace."
"I don't want to waste too much of your time, so let's get right to it," she said.
Jeanie brought me into her cozy home and showed me some plumbing issues. She had a solar heated rainwater collection system piped into the kitchen and bathroom, and she had some leaks and the drains had never worked properly, due to some venting issues. She also mentioned a problem with the big gate on the horse corral that was to much for her to handle by herself. As I worked she helped me out and chatted.
"I sent out letters to every handyman in the city phonebook, and you're the only one who responded," she said. "I'm awful glad you did . . . my wrist has been acting up for months and I finally had surgery on it three weeks ago. It's been rough keeping up with the old place. I just need another set of hands once in a while. I wish I could find a local kid to help out, but the young one's parents think I'm a sex crazed hippie, and the older ones are all goin' to college these days."
"So are you?" I asked.
"What...a sex crazed hippie?" she laughed. "I used to be, I guess. Long time ago though."
She proceeded to tell me the story of how she ended up there, on that beautiful hilltop in the middle of nowhere. She grew up on Long Island, within sight of Manhattan, and went to art school at Syracuse. She was already a Dead Head before she got there, and hooked up with a boyfriend who was into the same scene. When she turned 21 she inherited a bunch of money and the two of them followed the band for a few years. Eventually they decided to try their hand at homesteading and somehow found this land. That was twenty-five years ago, which would put her in her mid-forties I guess. She didn't look it — except for the smile lines on her face and the streaks of grey in her hair she looked more like mid-thirties. About five years ago her man died of lung cancer. Probably smoked too much reefer, she said sadly. These days she sells vegetables and eggs and flowers at the farmers market, and still has some investments that keep her going.
"So I think you skipped over the sex crazed part," I said with a wink.
"Ah, so you're one of them detail oriented guys, huh?" she laughed. "Okay, well, let's see. A bunch of our friends lived here with us in tents when we were building the cabin and the barn. Lets just say it was a bit of a 'free love' situation that summer, and I guess word got out to the locals. Oh, and I worked my way through college as a dancer. That club on the North side. It was still there last time I looked."
"Yup, it's still there. Pretty nice place compared to some of 'em," I said.
"It sounds like you're a connoisseur of the naked arts," she said with a grin.
"Let's just say I appreciate the female form, in all stages of dress," I said.
"Or undress," she added, and we laughed.
—————————
I spent a few hours troubleshooting the plumbing system and fixing leaks. In order to reconfigure the drain venting I would need more supplies, but I was glad I would need to return — Jeanie had quickly captivated me with her glowing back-to-the-earth personality and lifestyle.
"You'll stay for supper won't you?" Jeanie asked as I worked on the big gate outside. "I love having company at my table, and it doesn't happen very often."
"I'd love too," I said with a smile.
Jeanie went to work in the kitchen while I fixed the gate. After I finished up and put the last of the tools away in my truck I went into the cabin and saw the wonderful spread of food Jeanie had laid out on the table — fresh cheeses, sun-dried tomatoes, hard-boiled eggs, cured meats, a homemade loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and the most beautiful bowl of salad I've ever seen, fresh from the garden.
Jeanie was nowhere to be seen. I heard the sound of water running outside the kitchen window, and walked over to have a look. I expected to see Jeanie giving water to the animals or something like that, but instead I was greeted with the sight of Jeanie taking a shower in a small outdoor enclosure, a few steps from the back door.
The enclosure, if you could call it that, was thin, rough-cut strips of wood, with a gap of at least an inch or two between each of them. The space was well lit in the late afternoon sun, and Jeanie was quite visible. It was just a quick soap-up and rinse, no more than two or three minutes, and I stood transfixed for every second of it.
Jeanie was petite but well toned and muscular. Her tits were particularly lovely for a woman her age, her physical fitness seemed to be holding gravity at bay. As she washed herself I could clearly see that she was a 'natural' woman, with blonde hair on her armpits, a prominent blonde bush, and soft hair on her legs. As she shut the water off I retreated from the window, hoping she hadn't seen me. As she entered the back kitchen door, wrapped in a big towel, I pretended to be just entering from the front.
"It's such a sticky day, a shower feels wonderful," she said, her eyes twinkling. She had a little smirk and I had a feeling she knew I had been watching. "Help yourself if you'd like. There's a fresh towel out there."
She wouldn't have had such a mischievous look on her face if she hadn't seen me watching, I thought, and I was delighted with were the day seemed to be taking us.
"Oh, that'd feel great right about now," I said, "and that food you put out looks fantastic."
Jeanie went into her bedroom to dress, and I went out to the shower. Her bedroom window was next to the kitchen one I had been looking out of, and I could easily see in as she dropped her towel and stepped into a summer dress and fastened up the front. She was facing sideways, but I'm sure she could see me in her peripheral vision.
I've always found it a turn-on to be watched, and from the look of things Jeanie did too. Not too surprising I guess, since she worked her way through school as a stripper. I played my part in our little courtship dance, and undressed on the little patio next to the shower before stepping in. The warm water felt wonderful, and I soaped up facing the house. I couldn't see Jeanie in either of the windows, but I was pretty sure she was watching. It was quite a turn-on, and I had a half a hard-on when I dried off and got dressed.
When I went back into the cabin Jeanie had music playing. She had a twelve volt electric system, with a solar panel on the roof, and the sound of Dizzy Gillespie's trumpet was drifting through the warm evening air.
"So do you still listen to the Dead?" I said, admiring the simple homemade sun dress Jeanie was wearing. It was pale yellow, had narrow straps over her shoulders to hold it up, and had six simple cloth ties holding it closed, from the waist to the scoop neck. It wasn't exactly 'closed' though — the ties were done loosely, and her deeply tanned skin showed through the gaps, which got progressively wider towards the top. There was no bra, and her ample bosom was cradled beautifully by the soft fabric. The dress fell to just above her knees, and she was barefoot. She looked sexy as hell.
"Sometimes it's too sad for me if I'm alone, but I do listen to them on special occasions," she said as she poured some wine. "We can put some on if you'd like."
