Warming up

I enter the kitchen, scrubbing my hair with the driest of the towels, my wet clothes tucked under my arm. “How do I look in these old clothes?” I ask ruefully. “Completely ridiculous?” Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. Mindy looks me over with a bemused smile, her eyes trace my shoulders, arms, pecs, abs, thighs, down to my bare feet, I feel my cock, hanging in total freedom, start to stir. There is nothing but the bagginess of the thin shorts to hide what is growing underneath. I quickly sit at the table, hoping she doesn’t notice. It could be my imagination, but her cheeks look a little rosy.

“Oh, you look great. Don’t worry about it. I was covered in sweat, dirt and grass clippings when you came over last weekend.” She sees a shiver wash through me. “You still look chilled. Would you like more coffee, or a hot cocoa?“ They both sound good to me.

“How about adding cocoa to coffee?”

“That sounds pretty good. Lets try it.” She gets up, taking the wet towels and clothes from me and throws them into the laundry room, then grabs a soft blanket from the living room couch, drapes it over my shoulders and gives them a warming rub. I pull the blanket tighter, Enjoying feeling cared for. She mixes the powder into two coffees, then walks them to the table, spilling them when a loud thunderclap makes her jump. We look at each other mirrored cringes, both of us glad that I am not standing on a ladder anymore. She sets one in front of me and sits. Mindy is quietly working up to saying something. “So, what else do you have going on today?” She finally asks.

“Mostly just taking it easy. I have some chores to do and I need to update my resumé.”

“I... You know the roads are awful. If you don’t mind... You could hang out here with me for the day.”

“Sure, I could wait for a break in the storm,” I agree, taking a big sip.

Mindy’s eyebrows furrow and release. She tries again. “I mean... would you mind horribly staying until the storm is gone this evening?”

I blink. Is that what has her so upset? “Oh... Do you get freaked out by storms?”

She stares into her mug, her thumbs fretting on the rim as worry seeps back into her. “Sort of... They usually aren’t a problem for me, but the Lewis and Tonya aren’t here...”

“And you don’t want to be alone during the storm...?”

She gives a tiny nod.

“W-Well, it’s more than that... It is rare that I am alone, almost never, actually. My parent, my ex-husband, or my kids, my whole life I have always lived with people close to me. I’ve never really thought about it until after the divorce. That is when I started to realize how hard it is for me.” She takes a sip, then looks at me. I keep listening. “I dread it when I am home by myself. I can’t stop worrying. The storm just makes it a lot worse. It gives me more things to worry about... I’m sorry, this is embarrassing.”

“It shouldn’t be.” My mental picture of Mindy makes so much more sense now. No wonder she seems so out of character today. The panic she exhibited is some sort of overflow of insecurity—maybe even a phobia. I consider my weekend plans for a minute, then make a decision. “Well, in that case, I’d love to spend the whole day with you! I can do all my chores tomorrow.” As soon as I say it, I feel good.

Mindy holds back tears and smiles through a frown. “Thank you.” Her voice cracks, overcome with relief and gratitude. She must be hiding how difficult this is for her, even now. How could I possibly say no to this woman?

I project the most gentle and reassuring smile I can. “Of course. This is going to be fun!”

Mindy excuses herself to use the bathroom. She returns a few minutes later looking composed and relatively happy again. “So, what should we do?”