Jamie knocked on the door twice before he heard movement inside the house and even then it took Mrs Travers quite some time to get to the door.
'Ah hello dear, James isn't it?' said Mrs Travers, peering up at him. Just a quick word about Jamie, he was about 5'10, sandy hair, green eyes, and with some of the gym time taking its effect, he had got a decent physique. Alice seems to like it at least.
'Err...Jamie, yeah... Hi Mrs Travers, how are you?' Jamie replied, trying to hide his boredom at being there.
'Fine thanks, dear. Well come in, come in.' said Mrs Travers. She was the classic old lady in her early 70s, she had the look of possibly having been once beautiful, but this beauty, if it ever existed, had now faded. Her face was now neither attractive, nor unattractive, just, there was no other word for it, old. Her hair had long been snow-white, her face had as many wrinkles as you would expect of a woman her age and her body was a decidedly pear-shaped and flabby size 14. Her arms had some loose skin hanging from them, her breasts were an ample, but saggy 36 B/C and her legs were small tree trunks that moved slowly when she walked. She was wearing a faded pink blouse, with a cardigan on top, a knee-length skirt and slippers. Jamie looked at her with the same look that most 18 year olds would give a woman in her early 70s, one of barely concealed patience and incomprehension of ever reaching such an age.
'So, would you like a cup of tea, dear?' she quavered from the kitchen.
'Erm...no, I'm fine, thank you, Mrs Travers. Could I take a look at the garden, please?' said Jamie, desperately wanting to get this over and done with.
'Oh, of...of course, dear.' replied Mrs Travers, visibly put out by Jamie's abrupt, business-like tone.
Pushing down his swelling feeling of guilt, Jamie followed her out to the garden.
'So, dear, it shouldn't be too difficult for a young strapping man like yourself,' sighed Mrs Travers, briefly putting an hand on Jamie's arm, which sent a strange electric shock through him, making him frown. 'I just need a bit of weeding, some planting and general housekeeping, really. The tools are in Gerald's old shed, everything should be in there. Would you like a glass of fresh lemonade?'
Sticking to his abrupt manner, Jamie quickly replied 'No, thanks, Mrs Travers, I'll be fine.'
Catching onto his tone, the elderly lady sighed, saying, 'Okay dear, well I'll leave you to it then. Give me a hoot if you have any problems.' And, with that she walked back into the house, coming back out with a magazine a minute or two later.
Jamie took a deep breath and walked down to the shed to get the tools and started work. He had been weeding tirelessly for a good half hour when the heat started to hit him on the back of the neck and he paused, glancing over at Mrs Travers, whose face was behind her magazine. What he saw made him swallow; her legs were open not very wide, but far enough that he had a view through to the yellow knickers she wore under her skirt. Running down those knickers was a sight that made Jamie's cock jerk, a narrow line of moisture, whether it was sweat or urine he couldn't tell...but it was tucked between a delicate little ridge which outlined the lips of this old woman's vagina. The lewdness of this sight and the sexualisation of this old woman had Jamie rearranging his hard cock in his pants without being able to explain exactly why.
