Jae the Handyman

"Excuse me, can you reach that for me?"

"Oh, sure!" I turned, and she smiled. "That faucet, number B24, up on top. I don't see any down below."

Easy for me to grab at 6 foot, no way for her at just over five, I handed it to her, and she opened it to make sure the contents matched the one mounted on the wall. "Yes, that's it, thank you, it's so hard to find sales help here."

"No problem. Glad I could help," and I turned to go.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I know I'm being a bother, but do you know anything about plumbing?"

Being a jack of all trades, including handyman, I said, "Some, what do you need to know?"

She stood next to me, and I smelled her perfume, not what you'd expect from a woman in her sixties. A light scent, like younger girls wear, fresh, not overwhelming. I was also aware of her cleavage, just below the list she had.

"Well, do I need any special tools, or anything to put it in? I just have a few screw drivers and maybe pliers."

"You're doing this yourself? No offense, but pipes and nuts tend to stick after so many years, and can be hard to get off."

She smiled. "Well, I have a friend, Jeffrey, who volunteered, but truthfully, I'm afraid he may hurt himself, the poor dear!"

I smiled back, not knowing why. She was petite but with an ample bust, wearing a full length dress, what I think they called a tutu, like a thin gown, just hanging but showing her curves. Jet black hair, green eyes, with eye shadow, red lips, hoop earrings, and a pearl necklace. All dressed up for the hardware store, and I imagined she never saw the light of day without making sure everything was just so.

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you replacing it?" I asked.

"Oh, the old one is leaking, And I'd hate for it to go in the middle of the night, or winter!"

"Well, it may just be a gasket. You should have that checked first. It costs maybe a buck instead of what... $150 for this thing."

"Oh, really? Oh, I'm so lucky for your help. The clerk would have run my card before I caught my breath! A gasket, you said?"

"Yes, it's... How far do you live from here?"

"Not far, maybe a mile, why?"

I smiled. "Look, I know you don't know me, but if you like, I can take a look at it. I'm done for the day, anyway. But, it's up to you, I know you don't know me. Or else, at least call a handyman. Use the PennySaver. He'll just charge you a reasonable fee."

She looked up at me, through those green eyes, sizing me up. "No, you have a good face. I trust you. If you're offering, I'm taking." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Betty, and you are...?"

"Jake, Jake Butler."

"Like Rhett! 'Oh, Rhett! Tara is burning!' Gone with the Wind? Oh, you're too young to remember that!"

I smiled. "I've seen it. You do a wonderful Scarlett!"

She laughed, gaily. "But my heart belongs to Ashley!"

She bought the faucet, just in case, but held the receipt to return it. I was pretty sure that a new gasket would do it, and I had some in my tool box. Out in the parking lot, I saw a 1965 Chrysler New Yorker covering 2 spots. It was huge! Black, with white interior. People stopping to look would check the sticker to see the year, speaking in whispers as if in church. Sure enough, it was Betty's.

"You will follow me?"

"Anywhere, to get a better look at that!" I replied.

"Why are boys attracted to cars more than women?"

"Well, I like both, but she (nodding to the car) won't steal the sheets at night!"

"You can have the sheets, Jake, I sleep in the nude! Oops! Now why did I say that?" and she gave a hearty laugh.

I followed as she maneuvered the QE II through the side roads, finally pulling into the yard of a white stucco house that could only be called a mansion. Three stories, half-moon drive, a garage that was more like a barn, with a vacant apartment upstairs. Once inside, it was dusty, but not dirty. Pretty sparse on furniture in the foyer and main hall.

"I stay mostly on the main floor now, saves on heating, and it's so big for just me. I use the servants quarters for myself. It's right off the kitchen."

I followed her through the den, then a huge kitchen, and finally the servants rooms which was basically a 2 bedroom apartment. Off the master bedroom was the bath, with the faucet.

Sure enough, it was a gasket. In ten minutes, I had the old one replaced, along with the cold water side, just in case.

Betty was thrilled. "Today was my lucky day! You saved me so much money, and you even did the job! How much do I owe you?" "Nothing, like I said, gaskets are cheap, and I hate to see people get ripped off for nothing jobs." I wiped the basin as I looked at her in the mirror.

"Well, I can't tell you how much I appreciate it, Jake, really. It's funny, in my younger days, young men fell all over themselves to help me, hoping for a date, or a kiss. Oh, how times have changed!"

I smiled, wondering just how hot she was back in the day. Pretty hot, I concluded, based on the chest she was still carrying. And her face was attractive in the ways of older movie stars, with the high cheek bones and bright eyes.

"Well, Jeffrey was ready to help, and I'm here too," I said.

"Yes, poor Jeffrey would have bumped his head, or cut his finger, somehow becoming more helpless than he already is! And you, my Dear..." I felt her hand on my back. "In my younger days, I'd have my most seductive outfit on, for a young hunk like you!"

I stood up and turned to her. "You mean more seductive than that?"

She laughed. "Hey, I'm not that old! I still have some sexy items I like to wear. But I think I may be corrupting a minor!"

"Oh ho! Really, a minor? I'm a very old 25, I'll have you know. I'm the perfect age for corrupting."

"Oh, Jake! So young! I have nighties older than you."

Getting bolder, and enjoying the repartee, I said, "I'd sure like to see those."

She gave me that evaluating look again, the smile frozen. "Don't tempt me, sweetie."

"I...I didn't mean to offend you."

"I'm not offended at all! I just don't want to send you running."

"Oh, I promise, I won't run. I promise to sit on both my hands."

"That won't be fun, then, would it? Would you really like to see how I used to look?"

"I'd love to."

From the bedside table, she pulled a scrap book. She opened it randomly, and it was full of photos, studio shots, of Betty, many years ago. She wore swimsuits in some, garters and bras in others, negligees also. And she was glorious! Those tits were originals, and the heels accentuated her ass, tight and high. That cat-who-ate-the-canary smile was there back then, too.

"So?" she said from my side. "I wasn't so bad, back then, huh?"

I looked at her. "You know, as soon as I saw you, I knew that you were a knock-out back when, because you still look so great! Which one of these nighties do you still have?"

"Jake, Sweetie, I would hate to bring you crashing down after that lovely thought! Then you'd go running."

"Try me."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I have this thing for black."

Her hand came up, patted my cheek. "Okay, honey, you're on. You deserve it. I'll be right back."

She went into the other bedroom and I amused myself with more pictures. This was better than porn!

The door opened and she said, "Ready?"

"Born ready."

In she stepped, in four inch heels, which made her seem slimmer, except for those boobs. She had fishnet stockings, garter, lace panties, and bra, all black, the color I asked for. She stepped in closer to where I sat, turning side to side as she walked. "So, ready to run?"

If you took your eyes out of focus, it was like you were back in a cat-house in the fifties. The makeup, hair, necklace, her whole demeanor reeked of sexuality. The scrapbook was covering my growing interest.

"You look awesome," was all I could get out. She smiled broadly and said, "Oh My God, you really mean it! I can see that look I haven't seen in a man in a while! This is so flattering and ego building!"

I'm glad she's flattered, I'm sitting here with a woody! How do I tell this woman who may be forty years older than me, than I'm hot for her?

She came closer, and put her fingers through my hair, saying, "What shall I do now, sweet Jake? Do I give in to these urges you've provoked? It's been so long for me."

I caught her hand and kissed the palm. I closed the book and slid it to one side and stood, and she looked up at me.

"Oh, Jake, I really could use a hug."

I held her to me, and she smiled. I kissed her, not sure how they kissed back then. She seemed tentative, feeling me out, letting me lead. We kissed again, firmer, and I allowed my tongue to brush her lips as we broke, and her tongue darted out and caught mine.

She began unbuttoning my shirt and I unhooked the bra. They tumbled free and my shirt slid off, and her nipples pressed against my belly, and I reached and teased one nipple. She smiled, told me it felt good, and we kissed again.

She was clutching my buns and I slid my hand into her panties, which were over the garter. They gave way, easily, and my fingers swirled through her bush, finding her wet spot and a finger slid in as she moaned.

I felt her hand caressing my pecker through the jeans, and she whispered how hard and large I was. (An exaggeration at 7 inches.)

She began fumbling with my belt and I stopped to help, and she seemed eager to get going, almost antsy. I got them open and we both pushed them down and I stepped out and she had my jockeys down too, wrapping her hand around my shaft, trying to brush it against her pussy as we stood, but she was too short. She turned and hopped on the bed, spreading her legs for me.

The fishnet stockings and garter felt like time travel, along with her hairy bush. She called for me to enter and I approached, holding the head against her pussy, and her fingers went down and spread her lips, revealing that pink softness, and my cock took over, sniffing the hole and scurrying in. At first just a dip, then a push, then a thrust, and her eyes were wide as she felt me press harder, her big breasts heaving from her breathing.

"Yes, so long! Harder" she called, and I felt her legs flex behind me, still nimble at her age, and she was pulling me in with each thrust and clutching to my neck, kissing it, urging me on.

I pounded away, feeling her move beneath me, grunting against my thrusts, until she built up to a powerful groan, shrieking into my ear as she came, holding me tight until her spasms subsided.

Then she whispered, "Okay, baby, let's finish you off, too" and she began bouncing again, like a teenager, hips slapping mine, telling me to fuck her harder, that she needed my cum, she wanted my cum!

I shot, and felt the stream move through us, and she whimpered and bit at me as I spasmed again, shooting more into her.

After a moment, we kissed again and I felt myself slide out, along with our mixed juices, and she laughed.

"Is something funny?"

"Oh, no, Baby, not like that! I just thought I went out for a faucet and wound up with a plunger!"

We laughed, kissed, and did it again, twice for good measure. She has my number, and has referred me to a few lady-friends, who could use a hard plunger now and then.