9:30 a.m. My third day home, on vacation, nowhere to go. Dressed in sweat pants and tee shirt and nothing else. Nearly a month since the last time I fucked and wondering who I could call and see. The doorbell rings. I open it. It's a girl. Actually, it's a young woman with a brief case and a clipboard. She's in her early twenties, I guess. She stands about five-seven. She has a heart-shaped face crowned with glowing reddish-blonde hair in curls all over her head. Her face has a scrubbed look, with shining bright green eyes and a gorgeous smile formed by naturally red lips, no make up at all. She's wearing a blouse and skirt, and a sweater over the blouse so I don't get a great look at her body, but I know it's nice. There's no sign of fat even though I can't tell about her curves.
"Yes?" I say clumsily. What a dodo, I think of myself.
"Oh, wow!" she says, her eyes widening as she looks at me. She just stands there, staring. I don't know why she's staring at me like that. I'm not a sex idol. I stand six-two and weigh 205 pounds, I'm fit, 27 years old, and I don't do drugs or anything that will make me look weird.
"Can I help you?" I do better on this second utterance.
"Oh, yes, I'm sure you can!" she says. "I'm taking a survey about recycling, but I think I want to do a survey of a different kind. Maybe I can combine them. My name is Lila Rutherford. May I come in, if you have the time?"
"Uh, sure," I say, feeling a moment of panic. It quickly subsides. After all, this is my house, and it really isn't all that bad. "I'm Chuck. The place needs picking up, but I guess it's okay."
"I'm sure it will be fine," she says. "The survey is supposed to take about ten minutes, but in your case it might take a half hour or more. Is that all right?"
"That sounds like a lot of questions," I smile mischievously.
"Oh, yes, and a demonstration or two," she breathes. I notice she's sounding short of breath and her eyes are glazing over. She lays the clipboard on her lap as she sits down on the couch.
"Are you all right?" I ask.
"Oh, I'll be better a little later, I hope," she says. "Do you live here by yourself?"
"Yep," I say.
"Employed?"
"Yep."
"Kids? Pets?"
"Nope."
"Girl friend?"
"Not at the moment."
She glances down at the clipboard. Until then, her eyes have been fixed on me. She's been ogling my body, kind of like what I do when I see a pretty girl.
"So, let me ask you about recycling, for a start. Do you throw everything in the trash, or do you separate things for reuse?"
"I separate some things," I say. "Depends on what the trash hauler will take at the moment."
"Yes, I see. What are you separating now?"
"Well, mainly I keep newspapers separate. I collect household paper, like mail, envelopes, scrap paper, flyers, that kind of stuff, I keep that all separate. I keep plastic bags form the stores. I don't buy anything in cans so I don't have that."
"Do you do anything with worn out clothes?"
"Uh, yeah, if they're in usable condition I give them to one of the missions or Goodwill."
"It's warm in here," she says. "Would you mind if I took off my sweater?"
"That's fine," I respond with interest.
Lila sits up straight and throws her shoulders back. She undoes the sweater and pulls her arms out of it. Her chest is thrown forward, giving me a hint of nicely developed breasts. She holds the sweater up as she folds it and then lays it down on the seat of the sofa next to her. She seems a little flustered, still sort of out of breath. Her arms are now bare, and her blouse has no sleeves. It buttons in the front, and the top two buttons are modestly undone. Her arms have a nice shape. So do her legs, what I can see of them. I notice she's wearing slip-on flats and no stockings.
"Would you like a cup of coffee or tea?" I ask, remembering my manners.
"Oh, thank you!" she exclaims, looking at me brightly. "Tea would be nice, I think."
I get up and go to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Lila gets up and follows me.
"You keep your place nice," she remarks. She sounds sincere.
"Yeah, my Mom taught me how to do what's necessary to keep the place right. I don't like living in garbage, either." I get out two cups.
"I have several different kinds of tea, if you'd like to choose," I say. "You can come over here and look, if you want."
She comes and stands by me and looks into the cupboard I opened.
"Oh, you do have a pretty good variety," she says. "Do you use all those yourself?"
"Some are my Mom's favorites. Some are for when friends come over. The women especially like some of those different teas. I'm pretty much using only black tea or green tea myself."
"I like green tea," she says. "It's supposed to be very healthy."
"Yeah." The kettle begins to make sounds like it's nearly ready. I pull down the box with green tea bags, put one in each of the cups, return the box and close the cupboard door just as the whistle on the kettle spout sounds. I reach to turn off the stove. Lila is still standing there, next to me. I like that, but I wonder if something is wrong.
"Are you okay?" I ask again.
"Oh. Oh, yes, I'm fine, it's just that I like it here. You do have a nice place, and you're very nice, and besides if I stand here until you pour then you don't have to carry it to me."
I laughed.
"It's okay," I say. "I don't mind carrying it in, and I don't mind you standing here by me, either."
We each carry a cup of tea to the table. We squeeze the bags when we think they're ready and then carry the cups back to the living room. Lila sits back down on the sofa and picks up the clipboard. She sets her cup down on the end table. I notice that one more button on her blouse is open. I can't quite see inside, but it is a tease.
"Now, let's see," she says. "Where were we? Oh, do you compost?"
"No I don't, because I don't garden," I say. I keep the yard as simple as possible, mainly grass to mow and a very few bushes and trees. There is a small grove of trees out back that I don't do anything with."
"How often is garbage service?" she asks.
"Once a week. I don't have much, ever. I usually only put the can out every other week."
Lila lifts the cup of tea to her mouth. I don't see what happens, but suddenly she has a cascade of tea water in her lap. Her skirt has a huge wet spot on it. She jumps up.
"Ow!" she says. "That's hot! Oh, look at me, how clumsy I am! Can I use your bathroom?"