"Do you think it will hold?" she says.  She is putting plywood over her windows wanting to protect them from Hurricane Ivan.   

"Absolutely," I say.  I'm lying.  145 mile an hour winds will probably level her home but at least her windows will be unbroken.   

She hands me the Black & Decker cordless screwdriver and then says:

"Gimme the spray can, honey."

In Florida it's customary to put messages onto plywood put over windows during times of hurricanes (directed to the hurricane itself).  When she shakes the spray can her panty clad ass, jiggles.

After 14 and a half jiggles she says:

"Whatchathink honey?"

I want her to shake the stinkin' can some more. 

"Norm?" she says.

Off course, I'm looking up her sundress and when I stop looking up her sundress I look up and into her eyes and she's looking into my eyes and she's barefoot and she's standing on a ladder and I'm pretty sure she was watching me while I was looking up (her dress).  After a pause I smile then say:

"You had a bug on your leg."

"Whatchathink?" she says, pointing.

"Ivan the Terrible?"  I say.

"Good one, huh?" she says.

"Real good," I say.   

I'm wanting to behave like a normal, well-adjusted male so I make an effort to show interest and I smile and I steady the ladder and I wave at her neighbors (even the homeowners association president) but what I'd really like to be doing is sucking on her sweet-smelling female ankles.

"Ready to do the next window?" she says.

"Absolutely," I say.  Ten windows, 14 and a half jingles each equals 145 panty clad ass jiggles from my Nordstrom sundress wearing woman.

"Your attitude has really changed," she says as she descends down the ladder.

"Hurricanes can't be taken lightly," I say then putting my hands just above her delicate hips (to help steady her descent).

When she steps off the ladder she pushes her lips onto mine and then says:

"You're a special person, Norm."

Jeez.  I get to see panties (with a good female ass in them) and shaven legs and smell sweet-smelling ankles and I'm getting compliments and kisses even as a category four hurricane approaches.  Maybe fear really is an aphrodisiac.

Though I'd never say something like this, I say:

"You're a special person, too, honey."       


Later on, when the job was done, we ate at a small Greek restaurant.  In the end, I didn't get 145 panty clad ass jiggles as she didn't spray paint a message onto each plywood covered window.  I figure I got around 90 panty clad ass jiggles and that's 90 more than I ever thought I'd get.

Of course, storms come and go.  Eventually she'll need to remove the boards from the windows and your correspondent will be there. 

Because I'm a, special person. 


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