“Oh, yes,” I murmured. “I saw him looking – so did the removal guys!”
Her eyes dropped to the tablecloth.
“Then he watched your butt swaying, as you walked away from him,” I continued, relentlessly. “And so did I! It gave me a hard-on. I bet he had one, too!”
“Oh, he did!” Her voice was so low, I could hardly hear her.
“What?” I said, not sure I had heard right.
“He had a hard-on when he was looking down my blouse,” said Joan. “What did you think I was looking at?”
I said nothing. My heart was pounding furiously. This was the first time, since that day, I had got Joan to talk this way. I leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth. Her lips mashed against mine and her tongue darted into my mouth. I slipped a hand down the front of her blouse and cupped a bare tit in my palm. I could feel her nipple, hard and erect. She let out a little purr of pleasure.
We stood up and I led her into the den, pulling her down onto the couch, beside me.
“Tell me about him – what’s been happening,” I asked, pulling her hand across and placing it over my erection.
“It’s not really – very much at all,” she said, hesitantly. “Just – well – one or two little things.”
“Tell me,” I insisted.
“Well,” said Joan. “The first time Donald came back with a load of clean laundry, I was so pleased with the job he’d done – I, well, I gave him a kiss – nothing sexy, just a peck on the cheek, and a little hug.”
I had seen Joan’s ‘little hugs’ before. She didn’t mean anything by it, but she is very affectionate, and I just knew Donald would have felt her tits pressed against his chest.
“Well, the next time,” she went on, “he seemed to expect the same again, so – well, it became a habit with us. He delivers the laundry – I pay him – then I give him a kiss.”
“Is it still on the cheek?” I asked.
“Well, not always,” said Joan. “Once, he turned his head by accident, and our lips met – so, now, I suppose we usually kiss each other on the mouth – but only a short one!”
I thought about this. “So, is that all?” I asked, convinced there was more.
Joan took a deep breath. “Look, Kyle,” she said, “you’re not to get mad if I tell you. Nothing terrible’s happened, and there’s nothing I can’t handle.”
I decided not to pick up on the latest ‘double-meaning’ and, my excitement growing at the thought of what she might have to tell me, promised not to ‘get mad’. Joan went on.
“One day, Donald arrived very early Thursday morning. You and the boys had not long left, and I had just got dressed after my shower, and I was busy in the kitchen. I asked Donald if he would mind taking the clean clothes upstairs and putting them away in the walk-in closet in our bedroom. He said ‘no problem’ and he went upstairs. He seemed to be quite a while and, while he was upstairs, I heard the toilet flush.”
“Then he came down again and I paid him and – well, he left.”
I knew the ‘well’ covered the ‘thank you’ kiss, but I let it alone, this time.
“So – what then?” I asked.
“Well, when I had finished in the kitchen, I went up to check the clothes had been put away OK, and then I remembered I hadn’t tidied the bathroom after my shower.”