I can tell she is single, maybe a widower or a divorcee. I decide she isn't flirting during this time so my sexual thoughts just leave. I don't think ...he is doing intentional. I get her two liters unloaded and she is telling me where to put her stuff away. I walk back to the living room and she is sitting in her chair, her leg with the boot propped up, her dress is riding up, my eyes go straight to the nipples, which are still protruding. She is thanking me profusely, asks me if I could grab a. There were tears in her eyes too now. We stared at each other. Smiles were creeping into our faces, curling the corners of our mouths. I leaned in to kiss her.She shrunk back. “This isn’t going to work!” she wailed, distraught. I had forgotten her reaction to be touched. She looked trapped, crouching in the furthest corner of the bed with me between her and the door.I moved away from her so we were as apart as could be and still sitting on the same bed. “Sorry” I apologised; “We _can_ make this. More

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