An Acquired Taste

by Mason, Jude

  Dinner came and went; Ginger batted at her arm for his share of the chicken she cooked. Dishes out of the way, she read for a while and watched an hour of television before going to bed. It took some time, but finally, with her cat snuggled and purring beside her, she drifted into a restful sleep.

  On Tuesday, Caleb got the rest of the drywall up and insulated the ceiling. Wednesday, he mudded the ceiling and walls, and went for paint and wood trim. The ceiling took a full day all by itself. He arrived early and after dressing in his coveralls and mask, he blew acoustic mud onto the ceiling. Next, he primed the trim, then painting it when it dried. Sanding, measuring, and cutting—the hours flew by. A soothing shade of cream took a full morning to apply to the walls. The floor, dark oak around the outer edge, with an inlay of gold, burgundy, and green patterned carpet in the center, looked magnificent when he finally finished laying it.

  All week, she spent her mornings in the office; her afternoons at home as usual. Thursday was the exception when she had to work a large wedding. That day, she was up early and worked until long after Caleb had gone home. It was how she'd begun her career and she still loved the pressure and excitement of doing a job well, feeding the partygoers delicacies they may never have had before, or preparing the mundane in such a way as to bring a smile of appreciation. The bride and groom were impressed, and the large tip they gave her, she shared among her crew. It was the only day she didn't check on Caleb's progress. Exhausted, she'd fed Ginger and crawled into bedwithout a thought of the construction.

  Her alarm went off at the usual time and she groaned, and then slapped it into silence. Stretching, yawning, she cocked her head when she heard noises coming from the new room. Her heart suddenly raced. He'd be out there, Caleb, and he'd probably be thinking about what was going to happen tomorrow. She hoped that's what he was thinking anyway.

  Pushing the blankets off, she rolled out of bed and groaned. Yesterday had been a long day and her muscles were stiff and ached. She rubbed the back of her neck, her shoulders, easing some of the discomfort away. "Come on, girl, get moving or you'll be late," she mumbled.

  She reached for her white terrycloth robe, smiled, and decided against it. Instead, she went to the dresser, pulled open the top drawer, and found a deep blue, satin teddy she'd bought months ago, and never worn. Shaking out the wispy lingerie, she felt her cheeks grow warm and her nipples perk with excitement. Slipping into the loose fitting garment, she adjusted the lacy bodice to cover her nipples. Cover, yes, she thought when she looked down, but not conceal. The dark tips protruded like tiny beacons through the lace. She shook her shoulders a little and watched her breasts jiggle from side to side. Goosebumps raced up her arms and across her chest. She felt naughty and excited.

  Taking a breath, she left her bedroom and sauntered towards the kitchen first, to get a pot of coffee on. Was he watching? She fervently hoped he was. He deserved a treat as well as a tease. She glanced through the newly framed-in doorway and saw him on the other side, dressed in his usual cut-offs, and T-shirt, nailing a strip of trim along the side of one of the large picture windows. Behind him, in the middle of the room, were two sawhorses laden with more trim that looked as if he'd cut to fit the rest of the windows.

  When he turned, he glanced up, then down towards the next piece of trim. Then, he did a double take. His mouth dropped open, and he stared wide-eyed at her. She pretended not to see him, although her heart beat wildly with pleasure. She added water to the coffee maker and coffee grounds to the filter. Punching the ON button, she innocently raised her hands over her head and stretched. Slowly, she spun around, back arched, breasts thrust forward and barely covered by the lace.

  She blinked, pretending to notice him for the first time and dropped her arms. One crossed over her chest, the other she draped over her pussy, posing for him.Her stance was much more erotic than any attempt at covering herself, and from the look on his face, it was working.

  "Oh my," she said, breathlessly, "I didn't realize you were here already."

  Caleb tore his eyes from her body and met her gaze. Stammering, he said, "Uh, I'm sorry. I thought I'd made enough noise to let you know I'd started work."

  "Guess not," she replied. She shifted the hand covering her breast, making sure the nipple peeked out from between her fingers. "I should go shower and get some clothes on."

  He nodded. His eyes had moved down to her chest. She tweaked her nipple. She had to bite her inner lip to keep from laughing when he licked his lips, as if preparing to dine, on her. With an exaggerated sway to her hips, she walked out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. Closing the door, she leaned against it and shut her eyes. Visions of him, standing there dumbfounded while she tormented him filled her mind. She stifled a groan, but didn't stop her fingers from pressing against her pussy.

  She knew she didn't have time, but the sensations were so wonderful she didn't want to stop. A quick rub across her sensitive lips and she was close. Images of him watching her, wanting her, sent her careening towards a harsh, quick climax. She stiffened her fingers and found the hard nub that would send her over, and pinched. Gulping back a cry of bliss, her world exploded. Unable to get her breath, she shuddered and twitched. Her blood roared in her ears. Finally, she dragged in a ragged breath. A whimpered exhale followed a moment later.

  "Damn!" she exclaimed. She took a few deep breaths and slipped out of the teddy. The shower cleared her head, and when she stepped out a few minutes later, her thoughts were focused on the day ahead. Towel rapped around her, teddy in hand, she left the bathroom. He was nowhere in sight, which made her smile.

  She dressed in a fashionable skirt and blouse, her bra just visible through the soft purple material. Emerging from her room, she again looked into the nearly completed sunroom, but couldn't see Caleb. She heard his truck then, and turned towards the living room window, just in time to see him pull out. He didn't go far, just parked on the street, and walked back into the yard.

  For a moment, she was confused. But then a light dawned; he'd parked behind her and was just moving his truck so she could get her car out. She went for her coffee—had just poured it when he poked his head in. His voice was soft as he said, "Good morning. I…uh," he stammered, lowered his eyes and tried again. "I'm really sorry for staring at you."

  "That's not the first time, is it?" she asked seriously. "I seem to recall you looking in my bedroom."

  His head shot up, eyes wide, and he gulped. "Yes. I mean I'm sorry. Damn, you're doing it again."

  Laughing, she said, "Yeah, I know. Apology accepted. Would you like some coffee?" "I'd love some." She poured him a cup and handed it to him. Her fingers brushed his when she passed it over. Glancing at his hand, she saw that he was trembling, and wondered. Was it because of what he'd seen, or was he thinking of tomorrow?

  She too a sip of the scalding coffee, then said, "I can't stop to chat this morning. I've got a meeting at eight." Her mind shifted into gear. "I should be home by one, at least I hope so. I'll shoot Sammy if he's got me scheduled for later meetings." Caleb nodded. "I'll see you later then." She placed her cup into the sink and grabbed her bag and purse. Slipping into her sandals, she made sure her ass faced him and gave it an extra wiggle or two.

  By the time she got to the office, she was worked up again and dying to get through the morning so that she could begin her weekend. She strode into her office to find a less than spectacularly dressed Sammy, in deep green slacks and matching button down shirt, already there and sorting through a pile of paperwork he'd obviously just put on her desk. "Hey, sexy, are we ready for that meeting?" Sammy jumped and spun around. "Lord, woman, you scared me witless," he cried and flapped his hands, as only he seemed to be able to do. "Yes, we're ready." He sifted through the pile and pulled out two thirds of the paperwork and handed it to her, "This is everything you'll need—from receipts to the shopping lists. I even tossed in the lunch receipt from that meeting John, Jr. insisted on the last time he scheduled a meeting."

  Cynt
hia took the papers from him, and after dropping her bag and purse on the corner of her desk, she sat down to skim through it all. Fargo Realtors, as one of their oldest clients, who, under contract, had arranged to meet with her once every three months to go over meals and numbers. There were usually three of their top people at each meeting, John, Jr. being one of the less savory. But, she loved his father and knew the old man would one day retire and leave it all to his son. John, Sr. was always one of the three, and the last was a rotating senior agent who had brought in the most profit during the preceding quarter.

  Flipping through the papers, Cynthia's mind wandered—Caleb, again watching her, only this time in her vision, he was naked. Her heart rate increased, and she felt a bead of sweat trickle down her spine. Suddenly, her office was much too warm, and her face felt flushed.

  "Ahem," Sammy cleared his throat, and then in a playful voice, added,"Earth to Cyn, come in, Cyn." "Oh shush," she laughed. "That construction guy really has got you going, girlfriend." He perched his butt on the corner of her desk and looked down at her, a bemused smile on his face.

  "Yeah, I guess he has," she admitted, then blurted, "he's strong and capable, and works hard and…and, I'm sorry he's almost finished the work he's doing for me." "So, you've finally come out of your shell. It's about time." She looked up, ready to yell at him if he was making fun of her. But, he wasn't. His face was soft and his eyes showed nothing but care and concern for her.

  Leaning back in her chair, she said, "Yes, I think it's time, too..." She let the sentence trail off and they sat in silence for a few moments. Finally, she shook herself. "Okay, let's get this show on the road. Coffee's made, and I'll assume you have a platter of pastries made up and ready to serve, right?"

  "You know it, baby. We're all ready to make nice for the customers."

  She laughed. "Good, you're a peach, now go see if anyone's here yet.It'd be great if we were ready and they were left waiting."

  Sammy bounced to his feet, and with a swish of his hand, mock saluted her. Then, in his usual flamboyant manner, he turned and flounced out of the office.

  An hour later, she was deep in conversation with John, Sr., his son, and a rotund, middle-aged man who, after mumbling a greeting, said nothing other than the odd grunt of approval. The meeting went as smoothly as they usually did, and his son, John, Jr., was behaving himself for a change.

  "So, let me see if I got this right. You want to keep all the salads the same, but you'd like a choice of two hot lunch items."

  "Yeah," said the white haired John, Sr. "Last fall you had cabbage rolls. Everyone raved over them, so add them to the menu. Maybe a meat pie, salad combo for the other."

  "You're in luck. I've just started with the meat pie production again. How about each week, I'll offer a different filling: chicken, beef, turkey, whatever's good?" "That sounds perfect." Cynthia made notes and added some changes to the document she had open on her computer. She switched to her spreadsheet and revised prices as well as quantities, then asked, "John, have a look at these numbers, do they seem fair to you?"

  John rolled his chair over and peered at the monitor. After a minute of silent calculation, he nodded. "Fair as usual, Cynthia. This is why I love doing business with you." He sat back in his chair and reached for his coffee, and an éclair he'd been eying since Sammy had brought them in.

  Cynthia hit save, added a date and her initials, then saved the file as a different name for a backup copy. She had Sammy make copies of the menu and pricing list, giving each of the three men a copy. The final chitchat between John, Sr. and her lasted another half hour and, she was sure, was what cemented their business relationship so well. John, Jr. added a comment or two, mostly inane remarks about how women made excellent cooks or secretaries, but it took a real man, or a dyke, to run a business. His father shot him a vicious look, then proceeded to ignore him completely, much to the younger man's embarrassment.

  When they left, Cynthia let out a huge sigh of relief. The tension between father and son had become almost unbearable. She liked the old man, and hoped his son smartened up soon.

  She closed the files on her computer and went to work on another document. It wasn't long and she was lost in spreadsheets, customer files, and numbers. She didn't come up for air until Sammy poked his head in the door and said, "Hey you, you've been at it for hours. It's nearly two and I thought you planned on being out of here at noon."

  She peered up at him, feeling thick-headed from work. It took a second to figure out what he'd said. She checked the clock and sighed. "Yeah, I'm out of here. Just give me a minute to finish up with this one document. I'll need copies for the files, but that can wait until I get in on Monday."

  "Okay, hun. I'm glad I popped in." He tapped his fingers on the door, then said, "If you want, just leave me a list of what you need me to copy and I'll make sure they're done and on your desk first thing Monday morning."

  "I don't know what I'd do without you." She smiled up at him. "I'll leave a list. Thanks."

  Not long afterwards, she was on her way home. Traffic was light, and her thoughts shifted easily from office, to Caleb.

  Chapter Nine

  Pulling to a stop in the driveway, Cynthia sat in the car for just a few moments. His truck sat off to the right side. She wondered how much he had left to do. Would he finish today, or would she have to add more to the punishment he'd already earned? Was he looking forward to that punishment? Just the thought of him, and what she had planned, made her tremble with excitement.

  "Come on, girl, get moving before you gush all over the car seat," she murmured and pushed open the door. She grabbed her bag and her purse. Even just scooting across the seat made her aware of her wet panties, dragging across her pussy. Walking towards the house, her thighs rubbed together in just the right way. She felt as if the slightest friction would send her soaring.

  Inside, she dropped her bags by the door and kicked off her sandals. It was quiet and she wondered what he was doing. Was he still working or was he finished? Barefoot, she padded through the living room, dining room and out into the sunroom.

  He was there, stripped from the waist up and sweating as usual. Thank heavens for hot summer days, she thought. She walked towards him, his back to her as he knelt, sanding the trim. "How's it going?"

  He jerked and spun his head around. "Damn!" He smiled, perhaps embarrassed by how easily she'd surprised him. "Cynthia, you need bells on or something. I just about jumped out of my skin."

  Chuckling, she moved around so she could see what he was doing. On the floor beside him was a small tub of putty and a putty knife. In his hand, he held a small square of sandpaper. "I thought all the sanding was done?"

  "Most of it is," he admitted. He seemed distracted, and when she glanced down between his thighs, she saw a large bump in his cut-offs. "Wherever I put in a finishing nail, I putty, and then I have to sand off the excess and paint it again."

  "Ah, that makes sense." She glanced around at all the floorboards and saw the tiny smudges where he'd already puttied. "I'll leave you to it then. I want to get out of these clothes and into something more comfortable."

  He scanned her body, as if noticing what she wore for the first time. "Okay, see you later."

  "A couple of hours and you're supposed to be done. You going to make it?" "I think so. It's just small stuff now, but it all takes time." She went into her room, and changed into a pair of shorts and a tube top. The shorts felt too tight, the tube top, not tight enough. Deftly, she ran her hand over her breasts, imagining how it would feel if it were Caleb's hands instead. They'd bantered back and forth all week, and knowing she'd have him at her mercy tomorrow drove her crazy. From the size of the bulge she'd seen in his shorts, he was obviously having a similar problem.

  She gave her nipple a hard pinch, then reluctantly pulled her hand away. She had work to do, and really wanted to get that out of the way before his day was finished. In her gut, she had a feeling that the coming weekend was going to be somethi
ng special. She didn't want work to get in the way.

  In the dining room, she first took a look into the sunroom and watched Caleb moving slowly along the floor. She watched his shoulder and back muscles flex as he sanded each spot carefully, and moved to the next. Looking around the room, she saw very little finish work left to be done. Pearl white sconces hung along two walls, the windowsills had all been cleaned; even the floor looked as if he'd spent some time polishing it.All that seemed missing were the switch covers and the touchup paint.

  Shaking her head, she moved to the table and started her laptop. She quickly became immersed in her work. It wasn't until she saw him standing in the doorway that she realized she'd been working for two hours without a break. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was quitting time, and he looked nervous.

  "Are you finished?" she asked. Her throat felt dry, and she ran her tongue over her lips trying to moisten them.

  "I think you better come and have a look." He ducked back into the room and stood facing the far wall.

  She saved her work, and pushed her chair away from the table. He seemed jumpy, nervous, and she wondered why. When she stood at the entrance to the new room, she smiled. It was perfect. She'd need to get drapes for the winter, but for the time being, she loved having it all open. Around the perimeter, the hardwood floor gleamed and the Persian rug in the center looked plush and soft. She stepped inside and did a slow spin, checking all the light fixtures and inhaling the smell of fresh paint. It was then that she spotted the plug in the far corner, and the lack of a cover. She turned and faced him, confused. From behind his back, he pulled out the cover and, while holding it

  out towards her, he said, "I didn't quite get it finished." She blinked, and smiled again. Taking the cover, she said, "You

  know I'll have to add this to the punishment you've already earned." "Yes, I know." He lowered his eyes, and asked, "What time would

  you like me here?" "Ten," her voice had grown husky. "Yes, ma'am. I'll be here." He walked towards the door, but before he left, she said, "Don't