Idle hands and idle bodies can bring havoc to the most quite town
From the back:
Sylvia Had Finished Her Shower
… and had just slipped into a translucent, white negligee when she heard the clack of the front-door knocker. She knew it must be the young man she had watched cutting the grass. She hurried down-stairs, pausing to fluff her hair before opening the door.
He stood there grinning at her, his eyes moving to her breasts which were clearly visible through the filmy material. “The lawn’s all done, Mrs. Thompson.”
“Come in,” Sylvia said evenly. She closed the door and went for her purse. “How much is it?”
“Four dollars, mam.”
“Four dollars! That’s not very much considering how hard you worked. I think you earned a tip.” She handed him the money, and as he stuffed it in his pocket, she reached out and took his other wrist. Turning the hand over, Sylvia feathered her fingers across his calloused palm. “My, you do have rough hands,” she exclaimed, looking up at him. Then, without dropping her eyes, she lifted his hand and slipped it inside her negligee. “Now, about that tip…”