The next morning

The following morning I wake up early and start down the street, walking the half a block to the Reynolds' house, whistling all the way. It's a beautiful day out, the sun is shining and I'm glad that I only put on an old t-shirt as the early morning sun is warming my face and arms. It only takes me a few minutes to get to Amanda's house and knock on her door.

"Coming," Amanda calls out from somewhere inside the house, the sound of hurrying footsteps barely audible thorugh the door. "Oh, Hi, Chris," my mother's hot friend greets me as she opens the door, a broad smile on her face. "I wasn't expecting you this early," she tells me as she lets the door swing open, waving me into the house. "I'm not quite ready for you yet. I was still finishing breakfast," she tells me as she gathers the short robe she's wearing tighter around her.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I apologize, the idea of calling before I arrived never crosing my mind. "I can come back later if you want," I assure her, taking the opportunity to steal a quick glance at her in her robe. She looked good in the morning, I think to myself. She's wearing a short black kimono style robe with large white flowers on it, the hem of the robe ending about mid-thigh. The silky material seems slippery as Amanda keeps having to pull it tighter around her, the lapels seeming to want to automatically gape open, giving me quick glimpses of her bare neck and just the briefest teasing peeks of her cleavage. She's wearing some sort of nightie under her robe, I see a black lace strap during one of the brief moments she struggles with her robe. Her long hair is down today, and I realize that this is perhaps the first time I've seen her when her hair wasn't pulled back in a ponytail.

"No, no, you're here now. It doesn't make any sense for you to leave and come back later," Amanda assures me with a laugh, "besides, I really should stop being lazy and get to work. It won't take me but a few moments to finish my breakfast," she tells me as she starts towards the back of the house.

"Okay, Mrs. Reynolds," I agree as I follow her, my eyes drawn to her shapely ass as she proceeded me into the large sunny kitchen.

"Chris, how many times do I have to tell you," Amanda says with a laugh, stopping and turning towards me so quickly that I barely have time to tear my eyes off her ass. "Call me Amanda," she insists, a strange thoughtful look in her eyes that makes me wonder if she just caught me checking her out. "Mrs. Reynolds just makes me feel old."

"You're not old, Amanda," I assure her, playing out our usual greeting, "you're just the right age."

"Yeah right," Amanda agree with a laugh, that thoughtful look never leaving her eyes as she regards me for a few seconds, "I'm old enough for you to know better." She says, completing our ritual greeting, although this time I kind of wonder at the strange stress she added to the words. 'Did she catch me checking her out?' I wonder as she stands there silently regarding me for a few seconds before turning her attention back to the small meal that was still on the table. "Would you like some coffee or juice, Chris?" She asked me politely as she sat down at the table, motioning towards the counter where a half-full coffee pot sat. "I always make too much coffee when Hector's out of town," she tells me needlessly.

"No, thank you," I assure her with a shrug as I take a seat next to her. "So I forgot to ask you yesterday, but what do you need me to do today?"

"Oh, silly me," Amanda giggles at my question, "I never thought of telling you either. I'm sorry, Chris," she apologizes, reaching out to pat my hand, her touch sending shivers down my back. "I need your help to paint our bedroom. I want to surprise Hector when he comes home. We've been talking about redesigning the room for years now, and I thought this would be nice surprise. I just don't think I can finish it up all by myself and the girls aren't any help at all."

"Where are Rachel and Elena?" I ask curiously, knowing that Amanda's two young daughters were almost always at their mother's side.

"They went to a slumber party last night and they're spending the rest of the weekend with their friends," Amanda tells me in a mock conspiratorial whisper, "so we're all alone."

"Really?" I reply with exaggerated surprise, although the idea of spending all day alone with Amanda has sent numerous fantasies racing through my mind. "So what should we do first?"

"Well, let me finish my toast and we can get started with the painting," Amanda tells me as she reaches for her remaining breakfast. She is so focused on her food that she doesn't notice that her silky robe has come untied again, the short kimono falling open to reveal her ripe mature body in a lacy black nightie. I try not to stare but can't help myself, my mouth dropping open slightly as I watch Amanda unwittingly expose herself to me. Her nightie has a lacy front, the lace formed into the pattern of a large butterfly, the wings forming the sheer cups that barely contain her ample breasts. I can see the dark pink circles of her nipples through the translucent fabric and find myself instinctively licking my lips. "Are you sure you don't want any...." Amanda starts to ask me, stopping as she looks up at me, seeing my face and glancing down to see what I'm staring at. "Aaah," she cries in embarassment, her hands grasping at her robe, pulling it tight around her, concealing her body from me. "Chris, I..." she starts to say, her words jumbled in her embarassment.