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Bridget's Gardener

Bridget could feel herself shaking as she let go of his hand.

   "Well, Mike, I guess I'll let you get to work," she said lamely.

   "Right, Mrs, um, Bridget, right? Yeah, I'll probably be three or four hours. Don't let me bother you." They smiled at each other, and he went out to his truck to get his tools. Bridget ducked back in the house and went and stood behind the bar.

   'Christ,' she thought. 'I don't believe this. Standing there totally naked, my pussy drooling, and Adonis walks up.'  The ice cubes were shaking in the glass as she finished her drink. She thought she should put some clothes on, but then decided  'screw it,'  he's seen everything already anyway. She fixed another drink and took it upstairs. She stood in the full-length picture window of her bedroom and watched as Mike carried in his tools.

   Bridget was almost drooling. The kid's Levis were skin tight, and she could see that he didn't have an ounce of fat on him, he was all muscle. She saw him glance at the house a few times, and she smiled; he hadn't spotted her standing up here. She watched him work for awhile, his shirt staining dark with sweat. When he slipped his shirt off, Bridget gave out a low moan. The kid was built like she thought, and his chest and stomach were tightly muscled.

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