[prompt from http://daily-writing.blogspot.com/ ]
“Hello, I’m here with…“ The tall, bearded man trailed off. He visibly swallowed and cleared his throat. “What seems to be the problem, ma’am?”
She smiled her bright red painted lips and began to bat her eyelashes. “My kitchen table squeaks whenever I use it and my husband is away on a business trip. Think you can help me?”
He nodded vigorously.
“The table’s in here.” She opened the front door wide enough so he could see her bare, freshly shaven legs peeking out from under her robe. “Follow me.”
And he did just that, trailing behind her like a faithful lapdog. When they approached the table, she deftly hopped onto the edge and crossed her legs, revealing more of her thigh. She moved her hips slightly and the table squeaked.
“See what I mean?” Uncrossing her legs, she leaned towards him. “You think you could fix this?”
Again he nodded and began to unbuckle his pants.
She smiled but this time it was more for herself than for him. He might not have been the milkman, but he would have to do.