More plumbing help

The next day, late in the morning, Mrs. . . . Lauren calls my mom to ask if she can borrow me again. Apparently I was so helpful with the shower in her master bath, she wants my help in their guest bathroom. Mom agrees to send me along. I’m surprised at the request, but I’m not going to argue. Why miss the chance to check her out a little more? Then another thought strikes me: I wonder if she wants the chance to check me out a little more, too.

I walk down to her house. Lauren answers the door in a really tight white crop top and jean shorts that hug her slim hips close. Her top shows off her flat stomach and slender waist, and it makes nice bumps of her breasts, too. Either her nipples are really hard or else they always stick out, because they’re sharp little cones in the fabric. “Hi, Chris, thanks for your willingness to help,” she says. “It’s down in the basement.” She turns, and I think, I swear I can see every flex of her ass cheeks through those shorts. I watch closely all the way down just to make sure. As she turns to open the basement door, she gives me a little smirk that tells me she knows what I was doing. I flush, but she doesn’t seem to mind at all.

She turns the light on and holds the door open for me, then closes it behind us. “The people who built this house planned this as a mother-in-law suite; it only occurred to them later that the steps would be a problem. Our parents are all still young, so that’s no problem for us. They like having a space of their own when they visit. I want to replace the showerhead down here, too. Replacing ours was a luxury, but this one’s old, and our folks have started complaining about it.”

As I walk into the bathroom, I see another large shower stall with several grab bars. Those must have been put in by the original builders, I think. They probably installed the ones in the master bath as well. Mystery solved.

The new showerhead is one of those two-in-one jobs where there’s a big showerhead mounted on the wall, but the middle part is a handheld showerhead that comes out. It’s pretty nice. It doesn’t take long to install it, but Mrs.—Lauren and I are deep in conversation when I finish. She invites me to stay for lunch; I’m ****, but she presses me, so I accept. I don’t really want to leave, I just want to be sure I’m not overstaying my welcome. It’s not long before we’re talking about sex again. It still feels awkward, but more natural than yesterday. After a while, Lauren gets me talking about my limited sexual experience, partly by telling me some stories of her own. She tells me funny stories, mostly, but they’re still pretty hot. At one point, she says, “Sex is my favorite form of exercise. It’s like gymnastics, only it’s a contact sport.” I have no idea what to say to that, so I say nothing. She watches my face closely, then gives me a little smile and begins another story.

Am I just imagining things, I ask myself as I walk home, or is Mrs. Sanders coming on to me?