Uncle Buck

Picking up laundry laying on the floor she'd toss them into a basket and have me take it to the kitchen, dump them in a pile on the floor, then have me come back for more. She told me she'd sort them as she did more washing. When we were no longer ankle deep in clothes, she was ready to attack the bed. As she took hold of the pillow she noticed the panties.

"Still smell her perfume don't you? I did the same with Gilberts t-shirts, I could still smell him. Somehow he didn't seem so far away."

She handed them to me and told me to put them back in the drawer, so they didn't lose all her smell. To take out a different pair each night and the fragrance would last longer. It was after 7 when we finished folding the last of the laundry. I asked if she'd allow me to take her for supper. She was fine with that, asking if pizza was okay with me. She loved it but didn't have it often.

Over a pizza and a few beers, we chatted until well after 9. I'd asked her why she wasn't working and had time to help me.

"I found out I'm too old to cover the receptionist desk at the dental clinic any longer. Of course, they didn't call it that when they informed me last Friday that I was being terminated in two weeks, with a nice severance package. I was told they were making administrative changes."

"What? You're shittin me Ethel. You've been there since your senior year in high school. That's what, 43 years?"

"44 actually, started when I was 19, I'm 63 now. I had over six weeks vacation on the book's, so I told them I was taking two of them immediately, to send my last pay and the severance check to my home. When I went in Monday to get the last of my personal things, I noticed a new girl on the desk, the new dentist's wife. I knew he was trouble first time I saw him, damn city slicker from Philly."

"That sucks. Maybe I can get you in somewhere at the vet clinic."

"Nah, never mind. I've got enough money put away with Gilberts life insurance and what I've saved through the years. I'll start drawing SS in a few years and I have my 401K if I need it. I don't mean um no harm, but damn their hides."

"Would you entertain the thought of working for me a couple days a week? I don't do well keeping up with laundry or dusting. I'd happily pay you whatever you want to help me out."

"When would you want me to start? Today's Thursday, I have plans for the rest of this week."

We agreed on Monday, she could work as much as she felt she needed to until things were back to normal and then two or three days a week. I called Bill and let him know I'd be back to work Monday, he told me he'd put me back into the service roster. I hadn't started my service vehicle in almost two months, figured I'd better give the old girl a try. It fired right off, I took it for an oil change and washed it before returning home.

The next three days went fast and slow at the same time. When I dwelled on Sheila they went slow, when I paid attention to getting things in the house and yard back in order they went fast. I was walking out of the shower about 6 Monday morning when I thought I saw a shadow. Wrapping a towel around me I walked into the bedroom to find Ethel putting clothes away.

"Ethel, why are you here so early? How long have you been here anyway?"

"Got here at 6, you should really close the bathroom door when you shower, that's quite a johnson you got hangin there Bucky. Wasn't gonna waste half my day waiting for you to get outa bed and off to work. Coffee's on, waffles are hot in the oven, sausage patties are in the pan. Sooner you get to the table the hotter the food will be."

With that she spun and headed toward the kitchen. I wondered what I'd gotten myself into. Quite a johnson hanging there? Just how much did she see? I mentally reminded myself I would need to be more careful in the future. The smell of breakfast was certainly a welcoming gesture. Sheila had always made breakfast before she was to ill.

I fit back into the roster with ease. Bill was trying to give me some of the easier calls to start with. After several days I told him I needed something challenging and to stop filtering my calls.

"Okay, the Silverman's have a cow off her feed and one that needs to be treated for mastitis. They tried treating her themselves but aren't having any luck."

After you've been to peoples farms enough times you get to know them fairly well. The Silvermans were nice folk, always friendly, didn't argue with you about everything, but also didn't call unless they really needed help. I treated the fresh cow with mastitis first, then moved on to the one off her feed. She wasn't hunched which is a telltale sign of hardware. (something metal in her stomach causing irritation, piece of barbed wire, fence staple, nail, any number of things that could have been in her feed, not real common, but still happens).

The more I listened with my stethoscope the more I feared she had a displaced abomasum, (twisted stomach), which meant on site surgery. Cows have four stomachs, sometimes one will flip causing blockage from one to the next. The answer is to numb her heavily, shave her side, open her up, re-position her stomach and put a few stitches inside to prevent it from becoming displaced again. Sounds simple on paper, but it actually takes several hours. When I began cleaning up and putting my gear away it was already after one o'clock.

The cow was standing in her tie-stall, side all stitched and bandaged up. She'd be staying there for several days, no barnyard time for her. She was chewing her cud though, which was a good sign. As I was getting ready to drive off Mrs. Silverman brought a sandwich and some cookies to eat on the way to my next call. Leaning in she relayed her condolences and asked how I was doing. I gave her the same old empty comments I'd given everyone else. "Doing okay."

She put her hand on my arm looking at me.

"That's bullshit Buck and you know it as well as I do. When Henry died in that tractor rollover, I thought I was going to die, I imagine you feel about the same. I've got the boys here with me working the farm, but they got families and at times it gets lonesome as hell. When you get your emotions healed and you need some company, you come see me Buck. Stay away from them young ones with three kids, no husband and no brains."

She slapped my arm, gave me a wink and stepped back toward the house. She was a fine specimen of the female gender. Grew up on and lived on a farm all her life. Married Henry Silverman right out of high school, after college they took over his dad's dairy operation, had 3 kids, and if it weren't for the grey streaks in her hair you'd swear she was 35. I watched that tight ass move in those snug blue jeans as she strutted to the house. I was sure she knew I was watching her ass cuz she sure made it wiggle perfectly. The truck hadn't moved as I stared, at the house she turned and waved, it was then I knew I'd been caught. I smiled and waved back. Her oldest son was walking from the mailbox as I drove out, I stopped and asked how old his mom was.

"She's 47, but you'd never know it to look at her, would you? A lot of guys have tried to date her since Pa died, she's turned every one of um down. You on the other hand she might take a liking to. See you soon doc."

On my way to the Petersons I contemplated what Eric had told me. I felt guilty knowing Sheila had only been dead a few months. Shouldn't I be grieving more? Wear sack cloths with ashes or some shit like that? The fact that Sheila had been dying for so long helped in its own way. I wasn't surprised when it happened, I was empty and sad, lonely and confused, but I had been ready for her to leave. I was more thankful I'd had her as long as I did before she couldn't fight any longer. It was more a relief than an agony, she would no longer have to fight for breath, or struggle to do something as mundane as use the commode.

The Petersons was a simple call to end my day. A cow had freshened and hadn't gotten rid of her placenta. It was a matter of me reaching inside, removing the afterbirth and then placing a bolus (a big ass pill) in her vagina to help defeat any infection. I also left some antibiotics to give her in the days to follow.

I called in, no more service calls for today, they'd see me bright and early tomorrow. As I drove I daydreamed. What would it be like to be romantically involved with a woman again? Was it too soon? Why was everyone over the age of 40 telling me to avoid those under 30? As I pulled in the driveway something wasn't right, the lights were on in the kitchen and dining room. Walking in I smelled something delicious cooking. Walking into the kitchen I found Ethel, pulling out dishes to set the table.

"Hi, I made a stroganoff, I'm gonna eat with you, wanted to wait til you got home though. Go wash up, I'll have supper on the table in a jiff."

I hadn't had a decent home cooked meal in close to a year. Sheila was to sick to cook and what I made for us wasn't always what it looked like in the picture. I sat in my regular chair, Ethel across from me as Sheila had done ... well, forever. It took me a minute to accept someone else in her chair, but Ethels smile told me she knew exactly what she was doing, and I let it go. Weeks turned into months, Ethel was at the house three days a week officially, more often if she decided she was going to bake bread or make cookies. Cookies are my downfall.

Over time I noticed Ethels appearance had changed. Her hair was almost always done up, she was wearing a bit of make up now, her dresses were more than a simple house dress, they were flowery and bright. They were also an inch or two higher than I remembered. What gathered my attention the most though were the nylons, she wore them every time she came to the house. Not just pantyhose nylons, stockings, hose as Sheila called them. I had seen enough of them on my wife to know they weren't cheap, and they typically were attached to a garter belt.

My mind was whirling. Could Ethel next door be wearing hose and straps? 64 year old Ethel. Is she flirting with me? Nah, she must have a boyfriend. One evening as Ethel shared supper with me, I mentioned I was going to La Crosse over the weekend to get staples at Sam's. Ethel wondered if she might ride along. I told her I was staying overnight.

"So what, we can share a room. I've already seen your hardware, isn't like these things are a big secret you know."

"Yes, but I've never seen your hardware. You might be uncomfortable sleeping in the same room with a man after all these years."

"I'm going with if that's okay, and who knows, maybe you will see my hardware. As long as you aren't farting all night we'll be fine." She laughed as she opened the door heading home. "Oh, it's your turn to do dishes. Bye."

Saturday we piled in the truck and headed up hwy 14. As we drove through Coon Valley we both commented how the very last creamery in the state to accept milk cans was in Coon and it had shut down only a few years ago. The main customers were the Amish, until the state wisely passed a law saying all milk for consumption as milk or cheese products had to be refrigerated before shipping. That meant a lot of Amish farms had to get electricity at least to the milk house. Most of the bishops weren't happy and cried foul, until it was pointed out it had nothing to do with religion and everything to do with health.

We walked through the mall in Onalaska prior to Sam's. I was taken aback when Ethel stopped in front of the Victoria Secret, peering in the windows. She motioned me to sit on the bench as she walked into the store. I really didn't mind, my feet hurt, besides, it was what Sheila always did if she didn't want me to see what lingerie she'd purchased. At least until she could do a proper reveal in our bedroom with me salivating and ready to pounce.

"What did you get Ethel?"

"Oh, you'd never guess Bucky boy. Maybe I'll show you if you ever get that lucky."

She giggled and swished her ass from side to side looking over her shoulder at me with a huge smile. Ethel may have been 64, but she was still put together quite well. There was grey in her hair and probably some droop to her pointy average size breasts, I figured they were about like Sheila, a C-cup, her waist was still slim, her hips blended into a shapely ass with legs as lovely to look at as any models. I watched as her dress swished from side to side, mesmerized by the flow of her hips, her gait was steady and smooth.

At Sam's we stocked up on toilet paper, paper towels, coffee beans, (we ground our own) cereal, some fruits and last but not least, bottled water. There was a new rib place not far from there called Famous Daves, we figured it was worth a shot. The meal was good, nothing to write home about, but good none the less. I had reservations at the Best Western by the river, after we checked in we decided to walk down by the docks for a while. As we drifted back to the motel I reached for Ethels hand climbing up a short embankment, at the top she never let go.

We walked to the motel hand in hand, me wondering what the hell I was doing. This is my housekeeper, my 64 year old housekeeper, what am I doing leading her on? I'm going to hell I just know it. In the room she plopped on the bed, her dress riding up enough that my suspicions were conformed, Ethel was indeed wearing a garter belt and stockings. She saw my glance and smiled.

"Not bad for an old broad hey? Just because I'm old doesn't mean I can't dress and feel sexy."

We chatted about my year without Sheila, her years without Gilbert. She asked if I still got lonely. She confessed she still felt empty at times. I enquired how it was that Gilbert was in the military so late in life. She told me she was 12 years his senior, it all made sense then.

Ethel cocked her head at me. "Did you and Sheila have a good love life? Gilbert and I sure did, he would bed me four or five times every week. I miss that, I miss it terribly. Did you guys make love often?"

"When we were younger and her heart was stronger it wasn't unusual for us to make love 3 or 4 times a week. During her last two years I think we made love no more than ten times, it just wore her out. In fact, she demanded I make love to her the night she died. I think she knew Ethel. It wasn't a romp and stomp session, just slow and gentle. Guilt wants to tell me I killed her, but I know I didn't."

Ethel had moved next to me on my bed, my hand in hers. Trying to console me in any way she could.

"Buck. I know I'm an old lady, but would you consider making love to me? I don't know of another man I trust this much, but I want to make love at least once before my life ends."

"What do you mean your life ends? Ethel if we do this it will change our relationship in ways we can't imagine. You'll no longer be my housekeeper, you'll be my lover and I'll be your boy toy. You might be able to live with that, but I can't, I have too much respect for you."

"Well, I guess now is as good a time as any to tell you. Next Friday will be my last day, was gonna tell you Monday, but here we are. I'm moving to Missouri to be by my kids. My land is sold to the Conover's, the moving van will be here a week Monday."

"What will I do for a housekeeper Ethel? Who can possibly take your place?"

"Call Brenda Hanson. She's cleaning four different homes a week just to make ends meet. She'd give her eye teeth for a position with you. I don't have all the details, but I know she's taking classes at the UW extension in town."

"Doesn't she live in Avoka? That's a fair jaunt to drive 3 or 4 times a week."

"I've given that some thought Buck. You have three unused bedrooms in that big old house, one with its own bath. She has a steady boyfriend, so she isn't looking for a shag partner. You could include room and board as part of her salary. Only reason she's in Avoka is because she can't afford an apartment in Richland."

"Will you call her for me, maybe have her come by early in the week? If she's everything you say, I'll hire her right away."

"Now that we have that detail settled, can we get back to the question at hand? Will you make love to me? You don't have to kiss me, we can turn out the lights so you don't have to look at my old body, but if you're willing, I'd really like to make love with you. Oh, and no worries about me getting pregnant, you can let it fly inside me when the time comes."

She was snickering, "When the time comes, oh shit, that's rich."

I scooted her closer to me, tilted her chin up and planted a barn burner of a kiss on her soft lips. I moved my hand up the front of her dress stopping at her breast. As I cupped it she sucked her breath in and stiffened slightly. I dropped my hand to her lap, finding her V through the dress, I played a little and gently pushed her legs open. Through her dress I cupped her entire mound. She had a protruding mons, just like Sheila, a lovely hand full of pussy.

"Are you sure this is what you want Ethel? Once I have your panties off I'm not turning back."

She reached beneath her dress, raised her butt and took her panties off. Tossing them across the room.

"The panties are gone, get busy. It's been a long time Bucky, but once we're moving together, I'd like you to give it to me hard. That's the way Gilbert always ended, hard, deep, and from behind."

I moved off the bed and stood her up turning her around. As I unzipped her dress I nibbled on her neck, thinking to myself, I'm going to make this a night she'll always remember. As her dress slid off her shoulders I was surprised by the almost nothing material her bra was constructed of.

"Mrs. Smith, you naughty girl. I love this bra."

"Wait until you see what's under the bottom half."

Choosing to string this out as long as possible I lovingly cupped her breasts, squeezing them lightly, working them tenderly through her bra. She reached behind unclipping the bra and told me to do it right. As the bra fell I put my hands on her tits. I was massaging them, rolling the nipples, pulling them out a bit, letting them go. They were taught, not droopy as I had imagined, the nipples poking out. As I played with them I continued kissing and softly biting her neck. I felt her shudder, but I think it was more from excitement and not an orgasm.

"Ethel, your breasts are lovely. Firm, soft and tender. They look very suckable to me."

"Please, call them tits. Gilbert always did. I want to imagine it's Gilbert playing with them and not another man. Is that okay Bucky?"

"Just fine Ethel. I can be Gilbert if you like."

Sliding my right hand down I pushed the dress off her hips, watching it fall at her feet. My hand descended further, being met by a soft, silky, curly muff. I twiddled my fingers through it, tugging playfully. Then slid the middle finger further down, as I did so she opened her legs enough to snake my finger into her slit. I rubbed across the clit hood and then went for her vagina opening. She opened more as I made contact, dipping my finger into her honey pot.

"Oh God Gilbert, you know exactly what to do to send me over the edge. Please baby, finger me nice, make me cum."

I spun to her side placing my lips on hers and sinking my finger all the way. I found her G-spot and proceeded bringing her to a very quick climax. Her body shook, her hips were rocking back and forth as my finger went in and out. I was keeping time with her movements and in no time she was moaning loudly, whispering Gilberts name again and again. As I lay her down I saw what she meant by the surprise under her dress. She was wearing a bright red garter belt and sheer silk stocking. Her pussy was perfectly framed for fucking with the belt and straps.

As she recovered I took my clothes off. I was about to get on the bed and fuck her when she stopped me. Grabbing my dick like some kind of pull toy she drew me to her face and placed my cock in her mouth. After licking and sucking a minute she pulled off and looked up at me.