“Why don’t I have any water?” I yelled at the man holding a wrench in my backyard.   

He didn’t respond right away—not that he didn’t have an answer, I assumed, but because he was gawking at my naked body, still lathered up from my interrupted shower.  

I had just finished soaping up my entire torso in the shower—it’s a bathing ritual I love, letting my expensive, perfumed body soap soak into my wet skin while the water is off—and tried turning it back on for the rinse.  

But I got nothing. Not a drop.  

Shit. I recalled that the city was set to do some maintenance on the plumbing on my block. There’s a junction of municipal pipes just behind my property near the alleyway—my house is not in the fanciest of neighborhoods—so I  stormed right out to complain.  

The man I found there—not the cutest guy in the world, but a well-built young guy, maybe in his early twenties—took his eyes off my shapely form after a few seconds of staring, and politely looked up to the sky.  

“S-s-sorry, ma’am,” he finally spit out. “We left a note earlier this week saying that we needed to shut the water off for a while today.” 

“Not until noon,” I shot back.  

“Ma’am, it’s twelve-fifteen.”  

Crap, I didn’t realize it was so late.  I didn’t get home until three o’clock from the strip club where I recently started dancing. My bastard boyfriend of several years had ditched me for a younger model and I was desperate to make ends meet. 

The plumber raised the municipal badge on his lanyard in front of his face, both to show me who he was and to politely block his view of my body clothed only in soap bubbles.

Well, he used it to partially block his view. I have a tanned and toned body and he couldn't ignore it completely. Plus, he needed to keep at least one eye on me as I slowly advanced toward him. I’m sure he thought I was a crazy woman about to attack.

“And maybe you should put something on, ma’am” he added.

Great, a shy one, I thought sarcastically.  

“I will do no such thing,” I replied, somewhat harshly, putting my hands on my hips as I stood before him. “Not until this very expensive French lotion soap is properly rinsed off.”  

By now I could read the name on his ID. 

“Jeremy, I worked hard for this body, I make my living with this body, I have a very specific ritual to care for this body.”  

I struck a pose: one leg bent, one hand on a hip, another on my thigh. “It’s worth taking a little extra time and money on, don’t you think?”  

Jeremy looked around and saw that no one was watching. He was on this job alone, and his nearby panel truck, along with the fences and trees around us, blocked the view from my neighbor’s houses. 

He relaxed a little, and I could tell by the look in his eyes that he realized that he was not going to get in trouble for talking to a naked woman, as long as he kept it professional. 

I could also tell by the bulge in his tan work pants that “professional” was not the status he would have preferred. I smiled and came closer.  

“And Jeremy,” I continued, “if you call me ‘ma’am’ one more time, I’m going to have to report you to your superiors for being … overly formal. I’m not that much older than you. They call me 'Cashmere.'"

I touched his strong left arm. "So, what are we going to use to rinse this off, Jeremy? I don’t have any jugs of water in the house, and I’m not using the stuff from the toilet.” 

He thought for a second, pulled off his work gloves, reached into his truck, and took out two bottles of mineral water from a cooler. It was a warm summer day. 

“I have these,” he said. “They’re not ice-cold, which is probably a good thing.” He handed them to me. I took only one and turned around.  

“Thanks for the offer, Jeremy. You can start with my back.” 

There was a pause as he figured out my meaning. I couldn’t see his face, but I imagined he was wrestling with the implications, and the propriety, of what I was asking. 

“Oh, come on, nobody is around this time of day,” I told him. “They’re all at work. And remember, you’re a public servant, Jeremy. I’m just looking for a little ... service. In public.” 

I heard him exhale nervously through pursed lips, followed by the ‘snick’ of the seal breaking on the bottle cap. Cool water started drizzling down my neck and onto my back and butt.  

“Could you use your other hand to kind of swish it around and squeegee it off?” I asked him. After a slight pause, he did so. Gingerly, respectfully, not crudely.  

Ah, a gentleman. This should be fun. 

When his bottle was empty, I turned around with mine and broke the seal. His eyes were wide, but beginning to cloud over with arousal.  

I stepped back a bit and gave him a show, slowly pouring the contents of the second bottle on my upper chest, letting the water flow over my perky B-cups, down my flat belly, and over my pelvis.  

 I used my hands the same way as he used his, except far more intimately, squeezing my breasts and briefly touching my pussy lips with a finger. He blushed, but couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

When the container was empty, I saw that the front of his slacks was even more swollen and a little damp. I lightly—very lightly—drew a finger over his zipper. 

“It looks like I splashed some water on you, Jeremy, Sorry about that. Do you have any more?” I asked.  

“Uh, n-n-no,” he stuttered.  

Holding up my empty bottle, I said “Then this have to make do until you finish your work here.” I turned and started back to the house.  

“Uh, C-C-Cashmere,” he started to softly stammer. I turned around.  Jeremy was looking down in misery and confusion, trying to work up the courage to say something.  

Perhaps to ask me out. Perhaps to curse me out. 

Fuck me, I deserved the latter more than the former.  

Most of the women I danced alongside of at the club were disillusioned broads who had been at the game for too long; I wasn't there yet. They would have laughed at the kind of cock-teasing I just gave this nice guy. A young man who was just trying to be decent in a difficult situation.

I came up to him and took his hands in mine. 

“Do you have a wife or a steady girlfriend, Jeremy?” I asked, softly.  

“No,” he replied, still staring at the ground.  

“Jeremy, I am sorry about the way I acted. I should not have taunted you like that. That was … unkind.” 

“No, it’s alright, Miss Cashmere.” 

“That’s my stage name,” I told him. “A stupid one, and not my idea. My real name is Alice. If you would like to make love to me, Jeremy, I would like that very much.” 

“Really?” he asked, finally raising his eyes to meet mine. “You’re not putting me on?” 

I ran a finger along the admirable swelling in his pants.  

“No, I’m pretty sure we’d have a great time. I’d just need you to take a shower first because you’ve gotten a little ripe out here in the sun. So when you’re done here with the pipes ...” 

With a smile, I motioned towards the house with my head. 

Jeremy grinned and pulled out his phone. 

“Larry? This is Jeremy. I’m at Parkhurst Avenue and I’m going to turn the water back on. I really haven't started because I’m going to need a couple of parts from the shop to complete the upgrade. (Pause) And I need to knock off for the day. Something personal has come up. (Pause) Yeah, it’s urgent. You owe me a favor, Larry. (Pause) Thanks, see you tomorrow.” 

Grinning, he put the phone away, took out his wrench, and turned some valves on the tangle of pipes sticking out of the ground. 

“Your water is back on, Alice. Now, about that shower...” 

“Do you want to take it alone, or with me?” I asked as I took his hand and led him to the house. 

“Well,” he replied. “Considering the levels of the reservoirs in this region, we should probably do it together.” 

We didn’t exactly conserve any water with that particular shower. it was slow and sensuous and went on for quite some time before we actually got horizontal and tangled up in the sheets.

It was similar to our seven or eight other showers together over the next twenty-some hours.

(I skipped work that night, and he skipped work the following day. Lord, that plumber could lay pipe.)

---------------- 

That was ten years ago. Needless to say, we’ve never told our two kids exactly how their parents got together.