"Der Rosenkavalier, Part 4"
By: Melissa and Cathy
Kerry opened her door, then laughed. "Carter? What in the world..."
He quickly cut her off. "My boss sent me here to take care of those bookshelves for you, Ms. Weaver. I need to see the room where you want to put them." He pulled a tape measure out from one of the pockets of his tool belt. "I need to take some measurements to see if they'll fit."
Kerry licked her upper lip. She remembered mentioning her construction worker fantasy to John about a week or so ago. It was obvious that he had taken her seriously. "I see. Well, I don't think that will be a problem at all. What did you say your name was?"
"I'm John." He smiled warmly at her and she felt her insides melt. God help any unsuspecting woman who had him come to her house to build shelves.
"John. Well, come on in." She opened the door wide, still smiling, but no longer laughing. This was going to be an interesting afternoon.
John bent over and picked up the tool chest from the porch, then stepped into the coolness of the house. He looked around, nodding. "Nice place you have here, Ms. Weaver. Good, solid construction. They don't build them like this anymore."
"No, they don't." Kerry pushed the door closed. "But, being an old house, it does need some repairs and there are times when I could use a good handyman around. Are you good with your hands, John?"
He flashed her a wry smile. "So I've been told, Ms. Weaver."
"I don't suppose you have references?"
"Oh, yes, ma'am, I most certainly do. Now, about those bookshelves?"
"They're for my bedroom. It's this way."
She headed up the stairs, wondering just what he intended to measure once they reached her room. And where did he get those clothes and that tool belt? Not that she was complaining any. He looked pretty damn good in those tight jeans. His denim shirt hugged his body as well. He had rolled the sleeves up to just past his elbows, revealing his muscular forearms. The top three buttons of the shirt were undone, giving her a glimpse of his smooth and well-formed chest. He had bought a home exercise machine a few months ago and Kerry was becoming most appreciative of the results. Most appreciative indeed.
They stepped into the room and she noticed a critical look in his eyes as he gazed around the room.
"You live here alone, don't you, Ms. Weaver? Oh, I don't mean to be nosy or imply anything wrong. It's just that this is so obviously a lady's bedroom. All this lace and frills. Very romantic. Now, where did you want to put those shelves?"
"Under that window. Will it...I mean, will they fit?"
He carefully looked her over, then nodded. "I think so. I'll measure it to make sure, though."
"Oh, there's no need for that."
"There isn't?"
"No." She smiled up at him. "I already know how big it -- you ---they -- are."
"Really?" He was trying his best to keep from smiling down at her. "Well, how about if I measure anyway? Then we can see if your guess is right."
"Go right ahead. I'll just stand here and watch you."
"Suit yourself, ma'am."
Kerry watched as he carefully measured the space and made notes on a pad of paper that he had tucked into the pocket of his shirt. As he squatted to measure the distance between the floor and the bottom of the windowsill, the material of his pants was pulled taut across his thighs, molding itself to the hard muscles there -- and to the hardness nestled between those thighs.
"You look hot," she blurted.
He turned his head and looked at her over his shoulder, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "It is a little stuffy in here. Would it bother you if I took off my shirt?" He stood, then turned to face her as he waited for her answer.
"Oh, no. Anything to make you feel comfortable, John."
He pulled the shirt out from the waistband of his pants and quickly unbuttoned it, then laid it across the back of the chair to her dressing table.
"I was noticing your curtains, Ms. Weaver. It seems to me that whoever hung those curtains didn't do a good job. I can rehang them for you."
"Are you sure they're not hung properly?"
He nodded, then looked her straight in the eyes. "They're not well hung at all."
"Well, then by all means, you should take care of that for me. I'm quite insistent on only having well hung...drapes in my house."
"You won't be disappointed when I'm through with you, Ms. Weaver. I promise."
As he turned his attention back to the window and his measuring, Kerry could feel her face grow hot. Still, she couldn't keep from muttering, "I'm sure I won't be." After all, she had a part to play in this fantasy.
She watched his back muscles flex and ripple as he measured the top of the window, then made more notes in his little book. He turned around, a smile on his face.
"I've got all the measurements I need for in here. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"You were going to see if my guess for the measurements were correct, John."
"That's right, I was." He glanced down at his notebook and rattled off the measurements as she slowly shook her head.
"Ms. Weaver, the measuring tape does not lie."
"I'm not saying that it does. What I am disputing is what you measured. You see, I was referring to the rod."
"The rod? Oh. Well, the curtain rod is an even thirty-six inches long. No? Ms. Weaver, you come over here and watch while I measure it. I'm not wrong."
"John, it's a little over eight inches long."
"Excuse me?" He looked from the curtain rod and then back to her. "No, ma'am, that rod is well over eight inches in length. Ms. Weaver, why are you touching me like that?"
Kerry rubbed him through the pants, feeling the length of his hardness through the tough denim. "I was talking about this rod, John."
"Oh. But, Ms. Weaver, I don't see what that has to do with your curtains...Ms. Weaver, please don't undo my tool belt. You really shouldn't be touching..."
It fell to the floor with a loud thunk.
"Now, Ms. Weaver, I'm not sure that you really should be unbuttoning my pants like that. Won't your husband get upset?"
"You already noticed that I live alone."
"Ah, yes, so I did. Well, then, in that case, please help yourself, ma'am."
She smiled up at him as her hand slipped under the waistband of his undershorts and rested against his penis. "I most certainly will, John." She pushed his jeans and undershorts down, then ran her hand lightly up his penis. "Hand me your tape measure. Thank you. Hold this part right there. That's it. Not too cold is it?"
"As a matter of fact, it's very cold."
"Really? Well, this won't take long. Yes, it's just as I guessed. Eight and 1/4 inches long."
"You have a good eye. So, do you have place where it will fit?"
"I'm pretty sure I do. In fact, I just might have two places where that can go."
"Really? Care to show them to me? One of them might need some preparation before this can be put there."
"Of course. As a matter of fact, I would be delighted if you would allow me to assist you with the preparations." She pushed him down into her chair, then helped him take off his work boots and get out of his clothes.
He stood and helped her get to her feet, trying his best not to blush as she gave his body a long look. "Nope, they sure don't make them like they used to, do they, John?"
"No, ma'am, they sure don't." He cleared his throat. "But, I'm still feeling a little cold."
Her eyes twinkled as she sat down in the chair. "Well, come on over here and I'll see what I can do to warm you up."
"Yes, ma'am," he replied with a slow smile.
By the end of the weekend, her curtains were correctly hung and she was able to put her books on the new shelves that had been built under her window. John had even designed the shelves so that the top shelf could be used as a window seat, complete with cushions. Very comfortable cushions indeed, as he was now finding out in the darkness of her room.
As she settled herself down onto him, their soft moans were the only sounds in the room. Then she began to move upon him, teasing him as she slowly swiveled her hips, encircling his penis with her innermost body part. Driving him crazy, if the look on his face was any indication, she thought. Then she sat up straight, a smile on her face as she looked down at him.
He opened his eyes and looked up at her -- she looked so perfect there on top of him. More perfect than any other woman had ever looked. The moonlight falling softly through the window made her porcelain skin translucent, and her eyes were glowing. He grabbed her around her upper back, then pulled his body up so he could get a taste of her skin. He gently sucked a nipple into his mouth and was thrilled to hear her gasp of pleasure from that act.
"God, John, please..." her voice trailed off.
He slowly pulled back, keeping the nipple in his mouth, then suddenly releasing it. He grinned as she moaned.
"Please what?" he asked, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her pert nipple. He could feel the shudders that ran through her body from his touch and a rush of pride ran through him then. He, John Carter, was making her feel this way, was making her lose all decorum.
"Please don't ever stop," Kerry said as she lowered her head and kissed him passionately. It was the kiss that pushed them toward the edge, made them quicken the pace of their loving until one and then the other came, almost screaming from the intensity of their orgasms. And then spent, the two of them floated back to earth and the bedroom closed in around them once more. Getting up from the window seat, Kerry settled into bed while John disposed of the condom, then curled his long body around hers, holding her tightly.
"I love you, Kerry." John murmured as he nuzzled her neck.
Kerry smiled at hearing that and she tightened her grip on his arm. But, as she listened to his even breathing and knew he was falling asleep, her smile faded. This was wonderful. Each and every day of the past two weeks of their affair had been wonderful. And, truth be told, Kerry didn't want it to end. But, she knew it had to end. It was wrong. She was his supervisor. She was so much older than John. They had no future together and it wasn't right for her to allow him to attach himself to her. Which he was doing without hesitation. It amazed her at how easily he was doing so. He had been hurt so many times, was still so innocent and naïve as far as matters of the heart were concerned. And yet, he was still willing to give her his heart. And Kerry knew that his heart would be broken once again, this time by her when she broke things off with him. If only there was some way to get him to break things off, some way for him to be the one to make the decision to leave her, then his heart wouldn't be broken. He wouldn't be hurt.
She sighed and leaned back against his strong chest, delighting in the warmth of his skin. She would find someway to make him think that they should break things off, but not tonight. And probably not tomorrow. But, soon. Before it became too painful for her to think about living without him.