So, that morning, it was my week to drive, and I arrived at his house early, as usual, parked, and read the text that had dinged in to my phone a couple of minutes before. “John here, running a bit late. Pam’s still sleeping. Coffee’s in the pot in the kitchen. Door’s unlocked. Have a cup. I’ll join asap.”
Typical. Usually I just wait in the car for 10 minutes or so. At least this time there would be coffee. Oh well. Fortunately for the whole situation, John’s work hours start 30 minutes before mine, so if he’s on time, I’m early. He can run late and I’m still good. I’d never been in their house, but figured, ok, and let myself in quietly. The path to the kitchen was obvious, and so I found the coffee, and the cups, and poured myself a dose. I was leaning up against the counter, sipping, when Pam appeared, not noticing me, went straight to the coffee, poured a cup, and managed to spill only a bit of it in surprise when she turned and saw me there.
“Yow!” she cried out, otherwise speechless.
“I’m so sorry – I’m Rob. John texted me to let myself in, said he was running late and I should help myself to coffee. I take it you’re Pam. I’m really sorry to have surprised you like that – I didn’t mean to!”
“Oh!… Rob – yes, the carpool mate guy. No, I’m sorry – I should have paid more attention. Then at least I’d have jumped before getting the coffee!” she laughed, thankfully.
Her immediate acceptance broke the tension, and gave me a chance to look at her, all this a whole 5 seconds or so after she’d turned around. She was barefoot, wearing just a man’s white t-shirt, and it came down just far enough on her slight – 5’3″ or so, I guessed – build. Probably mid-30s, like John and I. Nice legs, tanned, as were her arms. I couldn’t tell, but she seemed compact and fit, with dirty blonde hair, in a morning-just-out-of-bed-tousled arrangement, no makeup, and some breasts pushing out at the shirt enticingly, but of indeterminate size – I guessed medium – B, maybe C.
The moment I took to check her out led my eyes back to her face, and I saw that she was well aware of my evaluation, and was now enjoying having busted me at it. She smiled a teasing smile and said, “Like what you see?”
“Oops – busted. Yes, but…. Sorry, I didn’t mean to… ”
“No worries. Flattering, I suppose. I guess I should be relieved that John’s around somewhere, since who knows what might happen to an unsuspecting helpless female with a strange man in her home, and her in only – oh my! – only this old shirt thing!” She fluttered her eyes and vamped a convincing Blanche DuBois helpless female pose, one arm over her forehead, which just raised one breast enough to convince me there was indeed no bra, and I glanced down to see if the t-shirt was pulled up enough to reveal – it was close, and I could see the bottom edge of a nice bottom indeed, no sign of panties yet, before she dropped it, realizing I was checking that out now.
“Do you mean you think I might engage in some inappropriate behavior if John weren’t?” I picked up on the tease and sent it back to her.
“That you might…. or that I might,” she said, the flirt now right out there – whoa, this lady was fast, and I had no idea what was going on with the game, but was between enjoying it and being downright intimidated by her forwardness.
But, never one to let down a challenge, I said back, “Or that we might,” my now flirting smile meeting hers. Her I realized green eyes were downright flashing, I thought.
“We might what?” I heard John say, as he entered the kitchen, in a rush, as usual catching up to whatever was going on.
“Might wonder where you are, dear,” she quickly tossed back. “You’re late again – get going! Rob and I were just chatting, waiting for you to get it together!” She reached up to give him a kiss goodbye, and in the process, on her tiptoes, her arms quickly around his neck, she managed to raise that t-shirt in back to where I got a clear shot of her bare, panty-less, and very nice, and tanned, with no lines, buns. Wow, what a nice ass, I got to observe in the instant, then she grinned, looking back at me across her shoulder as she exited, “Nice to meet you, Rob – I’ll try not to spill the coffee next time!” and she was gone.
It was my fault, so I grabbed a sponge from next to the sink and wiped up the drops of coffee on the counter, taking time to just enjoy what I’d just glimpsed. And with that, John and I exited, leaving my barely touched coffee and launching back into the mundane modern world of work.
Once on the freeway, cruising down in the carpool lane, John said, “So, ‘glad you got to meet Pam. What did you think?”
“She’s something – she was teasing me a bit after being surprised that I was in her house, having coffee, unannounced. I think she enjoyed my embarrassment. Seems like a nice, vivacious – and very attractive lady – you’re a lucky guy, John.”
“Yeah, I know. Sometimes I have a hard time keeping up with her, but she makes life an adventure, and somehow she puts up with me, so it’s all good. Someday, I think she’ll make a great mom, but we’re putting that off for a couple more years.” I was glad to hear that from him, and thought not much more about it.
After a lull in the conversation, I continued. I knew from our carpool conversations that John had recently had a pool put in, and asked him how it was going.
“Oh, the pool’s in,” he said. “all plumbed and working great as of a couple of weeks ago. Pam loves it, and we’re enjoying the new addition. But the guy wanted a ridiculous amount to do the landscaping around it, so I told him to just deliver the materials and I’d take care of that. We’ve got the long weekend starting tomorrow, so I’ll finally get to the hard part of it – out setting paving stones around the pool. I’ll be lucky to get the stones in by the end of the weekend – it’ll probably take weeks on end until the whole thing’s really done. Oh well, a bit at a time, I guess.”
“That sounds hard – can I help? I don’t have plans this weekend – we divorcees get a lot of free time, you know. Or, I guess you don’t know – good for you. Anyway, for me it would be gym or your back yard. Your back yard sounds fine to me”
“Really? Hey, that would be great!”
“Sure, just the neighborly thing to do – even if we’re not exactly neighbors.”
“Terrific, and thanks! Hey, consider yourself a neighbor now, and help yourself to the pool anytime! Saturday morning ok? Get an early start – say 8 or so? We don’t have anything going on until late afternoon, so we could get in a half day’s work at least!”
“Can you manage to get out of bed that early?” I joked.
“I’ll try. Maybe I can get Pam to wear that t-shirt and greet you again. I could see that you appreciated that!”
I wasn’t sure how to take that, but could see John was smiling, so just said, “No need, but, hey, that made my day – please thank her.” We both laughed, and I mentally scratched my head over his response to his wife’s flagrant flirtation – I realized I wouldn’t have been so generous.
And then we were at work, and nothing more was said. I dropped him off later at his house, and he invited me in to see the pool. Pam was nowhere to be seen, out shopping or still at her own job, I supposed. Sure enough, there was a stack of flat stones, each piece looking to weigh maybe 30 pounds, irregular sizes. I was impressed to see that John had already done some other landscaping of the area (maybe he wasn’t quite the loafer I’d thought, just late to work?), so it wouldn’t be that challenging, just some weightlifting exercise to dig each stone’s place, then set and backfill as needed, with associated tamping down and measuring all along the way. He invited me to stay for a beer, but I declined and went on my way.
The next morning, I was at his place at 8. I rang the bell, and waited. Sure enough, John appeared to be running late again. Oh well. I waited. Soon, Pam answered the door, in another t-shirt – this one a “wife-beater” style, white, ribbed, and thin enough that I could see, barely, the darker nipples pressing against it, and that the pointed tips were pushing it outward, enticingly. Plus, there was some side boob action, and I’m a voyeuristic fish for a side boob shot. She knew I was coming, she’d definitely stepped up her act, and I was unsure just how to deal with it all, other than appreciating the view. Hmm… helping out a friend, but whose wife sure seemed like she wanted to play, and whose wife sure made playtime an enticement. OK, I would play the flirtation thing, but that was it. The last thing I wanted on my plate was a tryst with a married woman, whose husband I sat in the same small space with (the car), almost every day. Nope, not going there, thank you very much. So, keep it together, Rob, I thought to myself, and just enjoy the sights.
“Oh my,” she said, opening the door and stepping back to let me in. “You’re going to think we’re both useless latecomers! Come on in, and get a cup – John’s behind schedule as usual.”
“And I’m just a mess,” she continued as we got to the kitchen, coffee prepared, and a plate of muffins on the table, their wonderful fresh out of the oven smell wafting through the room. She certainly had been up for some time, and no doubt had plenty of time to get dressed in more than that almost R rated undershirt – not that I was complaining, just keeping track.
“You are anything but a mess,” I countered. “You look great, and this place smells terrific!”