The senior citizen who was trying to keep the ladder steady was a tall and slender sliver haired woman who would have been hard-pressed to do much to stop it if the ladder tipped, but Martha Twigg wanted to help the lad who was putting boxes up into the attic for her.
The young fellow on the ladder was the grandson of Martha's best friend Priscilla, who had passed a few months ago. Martha knew Jimmy had been of great comfort to his grandmother, and when she decided she needed some work done around the house she thought of the student, and Martha was pleased when Jimmy said he would be happy to help.
Martha had met the lad a few years ago, but he didn't look much differently than he had. Jimmy was slight and since Martha was almost a head taller he couldn't be more than 5'3". Martha did remember her dear friend saying Jimmy was sensitive about his height so she said nothing, but it was hard to fathom that he was now a college student. Then again, some of the things the late Priscilla Miller had told her about the lad were also hard to believe.
"Do you have it, Jimmy?" Martha asked when the ladder wobbled a bit as the student reached up, and even though Jimmy said he was fine she had instinctively grabbed his calf.
The feel of the strawberry blonde hair on Jimmy's legs made the elderly woman's heart race a bit, and she found herself rubbing his calf softly until she looked up and saw him looking down at her.
"Sorry," she apologized. "Daydreaming a little I guess. My late husband, rest his soul, he had hairy legs too."
"It's okay," Jimmy replied, and when he saw that Mrs. Twigg's eyes had been diverted to his gym shorts which were unable to hide the effects of the senior's touch, he knew that his suspicions were correct. "I've pushed the boxes back as far as I can."
"That's splendid, honey," Martha announced as Jimmy came down from the ladder. "The next time my son comes east to visit he can go through the things and decide what he wants. I bet you could use a drink of something. Ginger ale maybe, or water?
"Water's fine Mrs. Twigg," Jimmy said as he followed the widow to the kitchen, and after she gave him the drink he leaned back against the sink.
"You must be tired," Martha sighed.
"No ma'am. I'm fine."
"I declare that when you first got here, I was afraid that the boxes I wanted you to move would be too heavy because you're rather..."
"Small. I know I'm 5'3".
"No, I was thinking of the word slight," Martha said quickly, "but once you started working and I saw how strong you are - you must work out a lot."
"Played soccer in school."
"That, plus having to chase the girls," Martha mused aloud. "Although I suspect the girls do most of the chasing because you're so cute. I wouldn't be too concerned about your height because you're probably still a growing boy."
"I'm going to be 19 soon."
Oh. That's right. Well, I so appreciate your help," Martha said as she reached on top of the refrigerator for her wallet.
"No thank you, Mrs. Twigg. That isn't necessary."
"Well I must give you something, Jimmy."
"I'll be glad to take what I came up for."
"Uh - what do you mean, honey?" Martha asked as Jimmy moved closer to her.
"I'm sure my Grandma told you about me," Jimmy said with a grin.
"Why, she always said how kind you were and how willing you were to help her."
"I have a feeling she told you more than that," Jimmy snickered as he moved closer, and the senior citizen found herself with her back to the refrigerator. as he put his hands up onto her slender shoulders. "It's okay. I have a feeling I know what she told you. It's probably why you called me."
"I..."
"It's okay. Tell me what she said," Jimmy pressed as he rubbed her shoulders, and as the lad kept his eyes locked onto hers she weakened.
"Your grandmother told me that you had - you enjoyed the company of older ladies," Martha admitted.
"True. Girls my age are silly and only care about rap music and the Kardashians. And what else?"
"She said that you were.," Martha said as she searched for words before blurting out, "she said you were an amazing lover."
"Anything else, Mrs. Twigg?"
"She had you were - very well endowed."
"My Grandma said that? Doesn't sound like her," Jimmy cracked as he looked up to Mrs. Twigg.
"No. What she said was that you had a very large penis," she corrected herself and after he raised an eyebrow she amended that statement as well. "Cock. She said you had a big cock."
"There. Now that wasn't too difficult, was it?"
"Didn't want you to think I was, you know," Martha said, gasping when Jimmy's hands slid down from her shoulders to her breasts which hung unsupported under her blouse.
"No bra. Didn't think so," he declared as he kneaded the pliant little hangers. "You didn't want me to think what? That you were just like my Grandma?"
"Yes," Martha said as her wobbly knees struggled to hold her up as her breasts were mauled. "I am like her. Worse even. I'm very nasty. When I got married even though my husband was older I was much more - experienced? My late husband used to say that there was nothing I wouldn't do."
"That's not a bad thing. You could have just told me why you wanted me to be here when you called."
"I was afraid you wouldn't find me attractive. I am 71."
"Quite the contrary. You look a little like Mrs. Brady from that old show. A taller version, and I think like her you're sexy too," Jimmy explained, and as he took one hand from her breast and brought her hand down he concluded, "But talk is cheap."