The Widow
Everyone knew her as the wealthy widow who moved to town six months ago and built a large mansion in the best part of the city.
Madeline Simpson was an influential but mysterious figure in the community. Her limited public appearances were related to philanthropic projects, as she presided over a foundation that supported a number of charities.
The wealthy widow was a favorite discussion topic, not only because of her business acumen, but also her looks. She was 40 years old, but looked like she was 30.
Madeline kept in shape and took care of herself. It was rumored that she was available. However, no one in town was lucky enough to catch her attention.
* * * * *
It was during a rainy afternoon that Matthew crossed paths with the wealthy widow. He was tasked by his employer to deliver an assortment of freshly-baked pies to the mansion.
Madeline had gone on a morning run, but sprained her ankle midway. She had also left her mobile phone at home, so she wasn’t able to call for help.
Matthew was running late and in a hurry when he drove by. Not only did he not see Madeline, but he rushed through a muddy dip in the road and unintentionally splashed the wealthy widow.
On his way back, Matthew drove a bit slower and noticed an upset young woman limping in the opposite direction. When he stopped to help, she was fuming and told him off.
"Took you long enough to come back! Were you in such a rush the first time?"
"Whoa … come again, lady? I stopped to help, but if you don't need it then I can leave."
Matthew was pissed at Madeline's negativity and lack of gratitude.
"You son of a bitch!"
"You're the one behaving like one."
Madeline was more surprised by the kid's courage than his looks. She was used to getting her way, and very few ever challenged her. However, as she got a better look at Matthew, she was surprised by how handsome he was.
"I’m sorry if I missed you earlier. I had an urgent delivery to make and didn't see you. Can you at least let me give you a ride?"
Madeline got into the kid's truck without saying anything. Matthew stole furtive glances at her during the drive. She was actually pretty attractive. Madeline refused to talk to him, even though he tried to make conversation with her.
When he stopped at the back of the mansion, Matthew was relieved to know that she wasn't Mrs. Simpson, as the owner would have asked to enter through the front. However, she might tell Mrs. Simpson and he didn't want his employer to get in trouble.
"You do realize you're the reason why I'm all wet?"
"No, but if I am then I’m sorry. I was in a hurry and didn’t see you. I know that doesn’t excuse me, but it's the truth. Miss … it sounds like you work here. I don't mind getting in trouble and losing my job. In fact, I’ll quit if you want me to, but it's not the owner’s fault that I screwed up. Please don't tell Mrs. Simpson. The owner has been good to me. I don't want my mistake to hurt his business."
As the kid explained, Madeline looked him over. Matthew was having a difficult time getting out of the mess that he had created. Given his good looks, Madeline reasoned that the kid probably got away with a lot of things. Hence, she didn’t have much sympathy. Although he did eventually stop to help, she thought he deserved to be punished for calling her a bitch.
Madeline had met a lot of beautiful men in her life, but she was never attracted to one so young. She had worked with the best fashion designers and had slept with countless male models. But this kid was different. He had a natural sex appeal that makeup and designer clothes couldn't imitate.
“Oh my god! Mrs. Simpson! What happened?” interrupted her personal assistant. “Did Matthew drive you back? Thank goodness he was just here."
"Yes, Emily. The boy rescued me. Please give him a nice tip.”
“Matthew, don't forget what we talked about …” added Madeline, who turned to face him. “My gardener is on vacation and we're in need of someone to help with the yardwork. See you on Saturday at 8AM."
As he drove away, Matthew felt like a fool. When he reflected on what had happened, he remembered the hunger in Mrs. Simpson’s eyes. He had dealt with her kind before, the rich who were used to getting their way no matter who got hurt in the process. However, he had never dealt with someone as powerful as Mrs. Simpson before. At least she was attractive.
* * * * *
Early Saturday morning, Matthew drove to Madeline’s place and found the toolshed. Although he had all the fancy equipment in the world, the sheer size of her estate was intimidating.
While the kid mowed the lawn and trimmed the bushes, Madeline had coffee, read her paper, and made phone calls. During this time, the late-morning sun beat down furiously. By the time she waved him over, Matthew’s wet T-shirt was already plastered to his chest.
Madeline didn't speak right away and Matthew didn't seem to be in a hurry to engage either. But when he took the hem of his shirt to wipe away the sweat from his brow, Madeline caught a glimpse of something that she did not expect to see. The kid was ripped. In fact, there was not an ounce of fat on his body.
Madeline liked what she saw. The kid was even more attractive than her initial assessment, which was already pretty high.
"Do you want some iced tea?"
Matthew grabbed the pitcher and poured himself a tall glass, which he eagerly gulped down.
"When is your gardener back?" inquired Matthew.
"Whenever I want. He could be back next week if I asked him to.”
"Mrs. Simpson, about the other day ...."
"Don't worry about it. I won't hold it against you. However, after you finish with the yard, I have some other things you could help with."
"Mrs. Simpson, what do you really want …?"
Matthew chose to be blunt. He could tell that Madeline was testing him. She wanted something and he was willing to negotiate.
"Please call me Madeline. I think you know what I want …."
Matthew: “...”
“And don't tell me you don't want it. At your age, you should be thinking about it every 30 minutes."
Matthew began to rationalize his predicament. Perhaps having sex with someone as attractive as Madeline wasn't such a bad problem to have.
“By the way, who do you think sponsored your scholarship?"
Matthew froze. This was much more serious than a complaint or bad review. Even his athletic scholarship was at stake.
“You’re … my benefactor?”
Madeline nodded. She knew she had him by the balls.
“What else … can I do for you?"
“Lots of things. In addition to the yardwork, the pool could use some cleaning and so can the house. However, I’m not satisfied with what you’re wearing.”
“What … do you suggest?”
“For starters, you can mow the lawn shirtless. After that, you can clean the pool in shorts. For the house cleaning, you should be in your underwear.”
Matthew knew Madeline wasn’t going to let him off that easily. She wanted to humiliate him.
"After I do that, will you be satisfied that I have adequately repaid you for our bad start?"
"That’ll depend on your performance. I'll even pay you for your time, as long as you wear what I want you to.”
Matthew couldn’t afford to offend the wealthy widow, so he reached down and pulled his shirt off.
Madeline paused to admire the kid. Her eyes took in every inch, his broad shoulders, his small waist, his killer abs, every inch.
* * * * *
After two hours in the front yard, Matthew spent another two hours mowing and trimming the back.
"Good work. Now take off your pants and put these trunks on."
Madeline’s assistant had procured a pair of skimpy red trunks for him.
With his dark tan and recently-dyed blonde hair, Matthew looked like the typical pool boy. The sheen of sweat on his torso glistened as he worked his way across her view. At one point, Madeline even suggested that the kid take off his swim trunks, but he refused. She laughed at his determination to resist her.
While the teenager cleaned her pool, Madeline admired his body. Though she was pleased by the size of his bulge, she wondered how gifted he was exactly. Madeline was also impressed with the shape and firmness of his bubble butt, which she planned to eventually grab.
"Time’s up. I have a lunch appointment to get to now. You'll have to come back next Saturday. Drop by at 9AM."
* * * * *
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