It’s a cold Oklahoma day and this overworked lineman slowly works through the neighborhood. It's starting to get dark and he's considering going home for the night, well, actually for the first time in 23 hours. He wipes his eyes against the back of his rough leather glove just as he notices the lady walking toward him. She is quite beautiful, about 5’11” with long legs. She appears to be well off, judging by the elegant fur coat she grasps tightly to her to ward of the bitter cold. “Evening,” he calls down to her from his basket up by the pole.
“Hello,” she calls out cheerfully. “We gonna get power back tonight?” He glances down the darkened street back the direction she had come from. “I’m afraid not Ma’am. In fact, this is the last pole tonight,” he states tiredly. Her small pout doesn’t escape his notice as he turns back to make his final connection.
“Please, Mister? Just one more, my house is right next to it. I've been without power for two days and with no one else in the house I am sooooo bored!” she begs to him quite effectively.
“Lady, I haven’t slept in a day and a half. I am quite sure we’ll be back tomorrow to finish up,” he states as honestly as he can.
“Oh you poor thing. I’ll tell you what; get my power on and I'll feed you, bathe you, and give you a place to sleep. Then you can have more rest time without having to drive home and back!” she says excitedly.
The hydraulic whine of the basket descending fills the air and he raises his voice to be heard. “It’s a tempting offer Ma’am but it wouldn’t be very gentlemanly to take advantage of your situation or your hospitality.” The whine stops abruptly as he reaches the bottom. Looking up expecting to see more pouting lip, he states, “sweet Jesus!”
Before him stands Laurel, coat open to show her entire nakedness except for the arms, and a pair of sheer black thigh highs. Her nipples, like rocks in the cold air, stand proudly upon her firm luscious breasts. Her womanhood, stands neatly framed by the swell of her hips and the sexy stockings. “Who said I didn’t want to be taken advantage of?” she asks in a low sultry voice. “Get my power on Mister, and I will take care of your needs in return.” With that she turns and walks home.
Entering the house she throws her fur across the divan and slips on her sheer black nightgown. The fireplace has kept it moderately comfortable, thank god, and she marvels at the luck of installing the gas stove the year before. She turns on the kettle to boil and picking up a candle, makes her way through the darkened house to draw a bath. She adds some lavender bath oil, causing the water to foam and bubble. She shuts the water off and breathes deeply in the steamy perfumed air. She stands and walks toward the kitchen to catch the whistling kettle, when suddenly the lights flare to life. Laurel smiles to herself and quickly walks over to shut “Jeopardy” off the revived Television.