| Straight: Couples Get Together: Cottage Handyman (1/4) |
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Bob enjoyed his job. He enjoyed working with his hands and knew he was good at what he did. He’d turned down many offers to go and work for large local and national firms, but in his simple world, he had decided that the perks of the job outweighed the potential to generate a bit more income. Today was a good example of one of these perks - he had spent the morning fixing the leaking roof on the 19th century worker’s cottage, which was one of the 11 cottages he was retained to maintain by their owners. The sun had been hot on his back, so he had removed his shirt whilst he worked on the roof, admiring the view across the lake with the rugged hills of Northern Ireland in the distance. His body, even at 41, was fit; Bob had always looked after himself. He was 6’5, well built, with a nice tan built up over years of working outside. His blue-grey eyes had seen a lot in their time and had melted many a woman’s heart. His boyish smile, square chin and short blonde-brown hair had led to numerous flings with the local women, but none had yet managed to tame him. Another of the key perks was the “eye candy” that occasionally took over the holiday cottages for a week or two of rest and relaxation. Most had their hubbies in tow, but not the beauty that had called him out this morning to fix the roof after last night’s heavy and prolonged thunderstorm. She had said her name was Amy, and Bob had twice, during the initial conversation, had to concentrate on not letting his jaw drop and start drooling like an imbecile. Amy was quite simply stunning. He estimated her to be about 5’4”, slim with long brown hair down below her shoulders. She had the most amazing brown eyes, a ready smile and a sense of humour that shone through even in the initial discussion about the roof! The joke about the sheep, having 10,000 volts going through its bum and turning its wool to nylon had actually raised a genuine easy laugh from Bob. At about 40, she still had nice boobs, probably about a “B” cup – size 34 if Bob was any judge, from his clandestine appraisal during their initial chat. Her tight bum looked like it could crack walnuts it was so firm. She had dressed in a casual white t-shirt, with her nipples giving evidence to the lack of a bra, as well as some skimpy cut-off denim shorts, which showed off her tanned, shapely legs. Amy had been kind enough to ply him with a couple of cans of cold Stella during the hot morning work, and Bob was convinced she had cast a couple of lingering glances over his sweating torso as the beer was delivered. She had then spent the morning topping up her tan in the garden, wearing the skimpiest of bikinis. Carefully descending the ladder, Bob went in to the cottage looking for Amy to confirm that the roof was fixed and that he would be on his way. He heard the sound of running water from the large power shower he had fitted into the cottage at the owner’s request over the previous winter, and also thought he could hear gasps and low moans over the thrum of the water on the tiles. Knocking on the bathroom door, he called out “Amy – sorry to trouble you, but the roof is |
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sexy!
