The State of Mind Called Age

Whatever Sandy was trying to do, he liked it, both the innuendo she seemed to enjoy as well as the way she'd been dressing. There was also what she'd said after they'd nailed the last joist in place and Walt said he wasn't going to do anymore until the next day and was going to take a shower and then relax with dinner and a movie on TV.

Sandy said she was ready to stop too, and then grinned that same grin.

"I'm gonna go home and stand in the shower for half an hour. They have one of those showers that you can change how the water comes out. I tried them all, but I like the massage one the best. It's like standing there and having little fingers touch me everywhere."

Sandy had said she'd see him the next morning and then walked back to her house. As Walt watched her hips moving up and down as she walked, he got a mental picture of Sandy standing naked in her shower. It surprised him a little when that picture changed to them both in her shower, except it wasn't the shower touching Sandy everywhere. It was him.

The next morning Walt cut and nailed on the bands around the joists. He'd start at one end while Sandy held up the other. When she asked him what the bands did, he explained that the bands kept the ends of the joist from rolling just like the blocking would do that down the rest of the length of the joists.

Lunch was sliced ham sandwiches and more potato salad from Sandy's kitchen. Walt liked the sandwiches, but not as much as he'd liked Sandy that morning. She'd worn another tank top and different shorts. The shorts were about the same as she always wore, but the tank top was cut lower at the neck, low enough she was showing some cleavage. He'd wondered about that until the first time Sandy bent over.

The day before, her bra had been one like Betty usually wore, a bra with full cups and straps that hooked onto the cups at about in the center. The bra Sandy had on that day had the straps on the sides of her breasts. That forced her breasts together and because the cups weren't nearly as big, the top of her breasts sort of pushed out over the cups. The first time, Walt thought he saw some darker pink skin just at the top or the cup. The second time, Sandy bent over further and he knew because it looked like her breasts almost fell out of the bra.

That afternoon was different too. Walt cut a piece of blocking and Sandy held it in place while he put three nails through the joist and into the blocking on each side. Walt would drive in three nails and then have to duck under the joists to reach the other side. When he stooped down, he was only inches from Sandy's bare thighs and legs.

That wouldn't have affected him too much. What did affect him were the times Sandy reached down to scratch her thigh while he was ducking under the joists. She did that several times, and each time she pulled up the leg of her shorts up far enough he could see the lace edge of her blue panties.

She didn't say anything when she did that, but Walt was pretty sure she did it so he'd look. She never did it except when he was ducking between the joists. As soon as he started to rise up between the joists, she moved her hand up to the blocking she was holding. She did grin that same grin though.

At the end of that day, Sandy asked him if they'd start putting on the deck boards next and Walt said they had to put on the posts for the railing first.

"The posts have to be bolted through the band and joist so they'll be strong enough to stop a person if they fall against them. We'll put them all in and when we put on the deck boards, we'll cut the deck boards to fit around the posts."

The next morning, Walt started by cutting a four by four post to the right length and then put it in place next to the house so one face of the post was against the band and the face next to it was against a joist. Then he'd drill two holes through the band and the joist and then two more through the joist and the post.

The problem arose because Walt needed a way to keep the post in place while he drilled the holes. He temporarily nailed a short two by four under the joists to keep the post from sliding down, but he still had to keep the post plumb. His post level told him when the post was plumb, but he was having trouble holding the post in place with one hand and holding his drill in the other.

Sandy saw him struggling, climbed up on the joists and walked down them until she was standing over Walt.

"I'll hold it while you drill, but how will I know if it's right?"

Walt showed Sandy the two vial levels on the post level.

"Just keep the bubbles between the two lines and it'll be fine."

Sandy grabbed the post with both hands and moved it around, but then got off balance because she'd been standing with one foot on each of two adjacent joists.

"Hold on a second", she said, and then carefully lifted her left foot and moved it to the next joist over.

"OK, I won't fall over now. Let me get it lined up again."

Well, Sandy didn't fall over, but Walt almost did. He'd looked up to make sure both bubbles on the post level were where they were supposed to be. That's when he realized two things.

Sandy was wearing different shorts, and the legs of these shorts were cut pretty full. With Sandy's legs spread apart like they were, he could see all the way up to her panties. They were red and cut high enough at the leg he could see some dark brown hair sticking out between the edge and her thigh.

The other thing he saw was that Sandy was wearing a T-shirt again, but it was pretty big. When he looked up higher, he was looking at Sandy's bare belly and the bottom of her bra cups.

It didn't help at all when after Walt had drilled that post, put in the bolts, and then tightened them up that Sandy started shaking the post.

She gave the post a hard shake and then looked down and grinned.

"This is stiffer than I thought it would be."

That post wasn't the only thing that was stiff. Evidently Sandy's bra didn't give her much support because when she shook the post her breasts swayed up and down and from side to side. The legs of her shorts also gaped open enough he could follow the leg of her panties from where the dark hair stuck out and up until they curved around her hips. Walt's cock was taking notice.

"Well, it has to be that way. Let's go on to the next one."

Sandy didn't scratch her thighs at all that morning, but by the time they had all the railing posts bolted into place, Walt's cock was half-hard and Sandy grinned at him every time she looked down.

She was still grinning when she told him she had used the last of her fried chicken to make some chicken salad and would make them a sandwich if he wanted.

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Sandy was grinning because she'd been able to do what she'd hoped she could do. Walt said he had something to do but that he'd be over in a couple minutes. Sandy knew what he had to do. He had to either make his stiff cock lay down or at least move it so it wasn't pushing out the front of his jeans like she'd seen it doing.

It felt good that it was her that had caused it. Those men at the grocery store could look at young girls all they wanted and she wouldn't feel so self-conscious anymore. She could make Walt at least think about sex.

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That afternoon, they started laying down the boards that made up the surface of the deck. There wasn't much Sandy could do to help Walt do that, though he wished there was.

They carried a dozen or so deck boards to the deck. Sandy just watched while Walt marked and cut each one for length with his power hand saw. That part went well. It was after that that he got distracted again.

He's screwed six of the boards in place and was putting the next one down when Sandy sat down on the first six, faced him, and then spread her thighs. There were those red panties again, but this time, instead of looking up the front, Walt was looking a where the underside of Sandy's thighs slipped under the panties.

He felt his cock starting to get stiff again, but it got worse. Sandy let her right leg move to the side while she kept the other almost vertical. That pulled her shorts to one side and then Walt was looking at the start of the lips nestled inside those red panties.

Before, Walt could consider what Sandy had done to be just accidental, but this wasn't an accident. This had to be intentional. He put down his screwgun.

"Sandy, why are you doing this?"

"What?"

"You know what you're doing. You're driving me crazy. Pretty much have been since you started helping me."

Sandy laughed.

"It took you long enough to notice."

Walt frowned.

"Sandy, this isn't funny and you didn't answer my question. Why have you been doing this?"

Sandy frowned then and stood up.

"I'm sorry. I thought you might be a little interested in me. I guess I was wrong about that, just like I've been wrong about other things in my life. I'll go home now so you won't have to look at me. At least I had some fun for a couple days."

She slipped off the deck then and started across Walt's lawn. He climbed over the joists and was able to catch her by the shoulder before she got to her house.

"Sandy, don't leave like this. I'm not mad at you. It's just that this has never happened to me before and I want to know why you decided to do what you've been doing."

Sandy looked up at Walt's face.

"You probably won't understand the reason. I should just go home."

Walt smiled then.

"How can I even start to understand if you don't tell me?"

Sandy put her hand on his arm.

"I need to think some more before I understand it all myself. You go on and work on your deck. I'll let you know if I figure it all out."

Walt let Sandy go and went back to his deck, but he didn't get many deck boards laid. He'd started out curious about what Sandy had been doing, then was surprised that she'd started to make him think about before when Betty had been alive, and after that day, his curiosity had become almost an obsession.

It wasn't just seeing Sandy's underwear and then imagining what was under it. It was the fact that she had intentionally let him see her in such a personal manner. There had to be at least one reason, and he was sure it wasn't because he was some great catch because he knew he wasn't.

Walt went to bed that night wondering if Sandy would figure it out or if he'd seen the last of her.

The next morning, Walt carried most of the deck boards out to the deck and then started the process of measuring and cutting one to length and then driving two screws into the deck board and down into each joist. He'd finished four when her heard Sandy's voice.

"Do you still want to know?"

Sandy was back to a well-fitting T-shirt and conservative shorts again.

"Yes, if you'll tell me."

"Let's go sit on my patio. I can't do this out here in the open. It's too hot out in the sun. I'll get us some iced tea too."

When Walt walked over to Sandy's patio, he saw that she'd pulled two lawn chairs up together with a small table between them. She came out of the house with two glasses, sat them on the table, and then sat down in the right lawn chair.

"I think I figured it out. I'm still a little ashamed about it, but I figured it out."

Walt sat down and then looked at Sandy.

"OK, what did you figure out?"

Sandy looked at her lap and then started talking.

"When Willie died, I had to take a good look at myself to decide what I was going to do with the rest of my life. I didn't have to work because the house and both our cars were paid for and Willie had good insurance and we had a lot in savings. I spent the first year feeling sorry for myself. After that, Mandy sat me down and said I needed to find another husband.

"Well, I knew that wasn't going to happen. I was fifty-seven when Willie died and I'd had two kids. I was seeing white hairs in my hair, and everything was starting to sag. I did try dressing up when I went shopping, but that didn't work. Most of the men I saw were young enough to be my son, and even if they were older, they were looking at the young girls instead of at me.

"I spent six years being bored and feeling sorry for myself until Mandy convinced me to move in with her. I think living with her just made things worse. About three times a week, I could hear Mandy and her husband at night, and like I told you, sometimes during the day on Saturday or Sunday. I was jealous of my own daughter, not because of what they were doing, but because she still had at least one man who wanted to. I know there were more because when we went shopping together, I'd see them looking. They'd look at Mandy and grin, and then look at me and frown.

"When Brad asked if I'd watch their house while they were in Scotland, it seemed like a way to get away from Mandy for a while. I'd still be alone, but at least I wouldn't have men comparing us. I asked Brad about his neighbors and he said you looked to be about my age and you were retired. I thought maybe there was a chance you'd be a man I could at least talk to.

"That first day, I saw you looking at me and you weren't frowning. I had some more hopes until you said your wife had been gone for ten years. You were a good looking man and I figured if you hadn't found another woman after ten years, you were either still grieving or you'd decided you didn't want another woman in your life.

"The only way I could see to find out was to give you more to look at. That's why I dressed the way I did the first day I helped you.

"You looked down my top and you smiled, so that made me feel better about myself. I kept dressing like that in hopes you'd say something. I know I was probably rushing things yesterday, but I was going crazy not knowing how you felt about me. I figured if yesterday didn't do it, I'd probably have to strip naked and I wasn't going to do that.

"When I saw that it looked like you were getting aroused, I hoped you'd say something. When you did, it wasn't what I was hoping for. You sounded like you didn't like me. That made me feel bad again, and that's why I wanted to leave.

"I called Mandy last night and told her what I'd been doing. She wasn't any help. She said I was too old to be throwing myself at a man like that and I should be ashamed of myself. The problem is I don't feel old. I don't feel much different from when I was forty except my clothes are bigger now and things aren't as tight was they were back then.

"What I decided is I'm probably crazy for thinking like I did and that I probably should just stay home and watch TV and wash my underwear once a week."

Walt smiled because she'd just told him what he wanted to know. He hadn't hoped for anything like Sandy had, but it told him he wasn't the old man he thought most people saw when they looked at him, at least to one woman.

"If you do that, who's going to help me finish my deck?"

"You still want me to do that?"

Walt grinned.

"Well, I don't need to see your underwear all the time, but it was nice having someone my age to hold things and to talk to. You make some really good iced tea too. Let's finish my deck and get to know each other better, OK."

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A week later, Walt's deck was built, stained with redwood stain, and dry enough he moved the chairs and deck table onto it. Sandy was there helping as usual, though she wasn't tempting him by the way she dressed. She knew she didn't have to do that again. Walt was still looking at her and he was still smiling. He'd also given her a hug when they finished staining the deck. It wasn't a hug that would have resulted in anything else, just an arm around her shoulders, but it told Sandy that Walt liked her.

Sandy was really surprised after they carried the last chair up the steps and onto the deck. Walt put his side of the chair down and then smiled.

"You know, Sandy, you've fixed lunch for us every day and I haven't done anything for you. How about if I take you out for dinner tonight?"

Sandy put her hand on her breasts.

"You mean like a pizza place, don't you?"

Walt shook his head.

"Well, I was thinking Barnaby's. They don't have pizza, but the steaks are really good. I always have the rib eye, but they have chicken and fish too."

"I've never been there. How dressy is it -- jeans and a top or a dress and heels?"

Walt chuckled.

"You haven't been out in a while, have you? Nobody dresses up much anymore just to go to a restaurant. Whatever you wear will be fine. I'm just going to wear pants and a dress shirt. What say you meet me here about five thirty? That'll get us there by six before the young, dating crowd fills up the place."

Walt was standing on his new deck when Sandy walked out her back door, but he had to look twice before he knew it was Sandy. She was wearing a black dress that just had little spaghetti straps over her bare shoulders to hold it up. The hem was just above her knee and she was wearing black stockings and black heels.

She walked up to the deck and smiled.

"I think I'm about as ready as I can get. Does this look OK?"

Up close, Walt could see that not only had she done something with her hair, she'd also used a little makeup, not enough to hide much of anything, but enough to give her a soft face with arching eyebrows, accented eyes, and shining pink lips.

"Sandy, you look a lot more than just OK. I think there are more than a few men who'll be jealous of me tonight."

Dinner had gone pretty well, thought Walt, even though he hadn't been out socially with a woman in very long time. It felt right, somehow, to have Sandy sitting across the table from him. It wasn't their conversation over the meal. That was mostly about what Walt had done for a career and about their kids. It was just that Walt hadn't eaten in an actual restaurant since Betty died. Eating alone was lonely. Being with Sandy wasn't lonely at all.

After Sandy said she didn't have room for dessert, Walt paid the check and then held the door open for Sandy. As soon as he walked outside, Sandy slipped her arm in his. That felt good to Walt too, just as it felt when she stopped and waited for him to open his car door for her.

Sandy didn't say much as Walt drove them home, but when he pulled into her drive, she asked him if he'd like a cup of coffee. Walt said that would be great. After he opened his car door for Sandy, she led him up the walk and used her key to let them inside.

Walt had never been inside the house before, and he was surprised at the furniture and decorations. The living room looked like they'd copied it out of some architectural magazine. When he said that to Sandy, she just laughed.

"They have more money than they can spend, so they spent it on furniture. Me, I'd rather have some grandchildren, but they don't seem to be thinking about that. I suppose I'll have to wait. I just hope they don't wait too long. I'll go start the coffeepot now and you can have a seat at the kitchen table. That's about all of the house I use -- the kitchen and my bedroom."

Sandy started the coffee maker and then sat down across the table from Walt. She smiled a funny smile.

"Walt, why didn't ask me to do anything with you. I know you were thinking about it. I saw how you...well, I thought you liked me."

Walt thought for a second. He did like Sandy and he did have the same thoughts she was talking about. He just didn't know how to tell her in a way that she wouldn't be offended. He decided to make an excuse that she might believe.

"Sandy, I didn't say anything because I didn't want to upset you. I spent too much time in workshops telling us men that we shouldn't say anything to a woman that they could misunderstand as sexual harassment. I guess it just became a habit that's hard to break."

Sandy smiled.

"We're not at your work now, so I don't believe that's the real reason. What is?"