Henrietta was her name.
Yes, I thought so too. What sort of a name is that? I am told it is the feminine of Henry. But I was yet see anything masculine about her.
I used to do her window cleaning. It was easy to do being just a small bungalow. That is how we got to know each other. I thought her name was so posh and she must have come from a very cultured background. If she did she never divulged it to me saying that she was yet to look into her genealogy, but was scared that maybe, like her ex. Sse would discover something horrible and not nice.
Over a period of about a year I never thought of Henrietta as more than a person I casually worked for, because later she had me doing her household chores and repairs as well as maintaining her huge garden.
For one thing she was old enough to be my mother, me being in my early twenties and she. I reckoned, was twenty years my senior and that was fine.
We got along great together and she was always more than generous with the refreshments, and sometimes she'd cook a dinner for me.
She was a sweet attractive older lady I liked very much and she had an approach always warming and pleasant
If she was lonely she never showed it. She was a local councillor so she had plenty on her plate to keep her in touch with people. In fact most often when I was working there, she was engrossed in her mail and replying to it, and a never ending pile of Council riffraff.
But of late, my feelings towards Henrietta became unwittingly amorous . Okay she was no spring chicken but for a woman her age she had all the elements enticing to the male sect.
She looked good in a skirt, looked ravishing in tight jeans and still had a wonderful tight bosom and what was nice too, she always smelt wonderful. She was undoubtedly the sort of woman that cared for herself and the way she looked and she hadn't made a bad job of it.
Often during our refreshment breaks, I secretly watched her movements as she did the washing up at the sink, the way her lovely tight bum wobbled was a sheer delight and very simulating for guy like me who hadn't enjoyed the warmth of a woman since Susan left me. Susan was a Jamaican who I just could net get aroused for. I don't know why. She was certainly up for it but I felt terrible letting her down and that was the finish of it. Immediately she dropped me though, I had hot dreams about her and wish I could have been given another chance, But that's life!
I did notice occasionally a glint in Henrietta's eye which I put down to natural interest in what was doing and the like. She always wanted to know what I was up to (her words) the moment I came to do anything for her.
I think, looking back, I must have been rather naive in picking up, which she later declared, were invitations to 'extend' ourselves to each other.
But that was how I was generally. I have often been told by mates that I am slow in picking up the 'come on and try me' signals from girls when we are out and about. But that is me, I have never thought of myself as anything special in looks or physique. But obviously Henrietta thought differently when one day she cornered me in the kitchen when I was doing bit of plumbing for her.
She'd already sounded me out with the 'have you got a girl friend' bit and when she found out I hadn't she declared that was positively sad because I was a lovely guy who needed some feminine attention.
Little then did I know she meant she was the one who would do that.
"Its okay, you don't have to be shy, Peter. We have known each other long enough and I simply adore you."
I swallowed some and contained myself to what was happening.
She closed to me so wonderfully and so softly. I began to realise what I had been missing in the touch and smell of a woman that close.
"Don't you like me?" she asked with that sheepish sorrowful look on her face.
"Of course I do, but not exactly this way, I never imagined you would want more than our friendship."
She smiled delightfully. "Are you saying you do not like me like this, peter?"
Struggling with my words I told her of course did, that I respected her and never wanted to spoil that friendship by coming on to her.
She looked up into my eyes as we stood there. Me with spanner in hand. She took it away and placed it on the draining board.
"You could never spoil that" she replied softly. "It is you who has brought back feelings I thought I had lost since my ex did the dirty on me and dumped me for a girl twenty years younger than me. A Jamaican girl she was. You have no idea what that does to the confidence of a woman who has put so much into keeping her man happy.
Some things that I would never mention to you that were abhorrent to me, yet I did what he wanted because I loved him that much."
I was still hesitant. Going through my mind was am I ready for a commitment yet, and with an older woman at that, what would my friends think?
But it was as if Henrietta could read my thoughts; "Don't look so worried Peter. I won't eat you. Although I'd like to try. I simply want to be closer that's all. Nothing strong you'll see. I simply adore you and want to make you happy. But that's not all, yes I am being selfish in saying I want you to make me happy too."
"I never thought you would be interested?" I asked.
