I was out of work and desperate to find employment before my rent was money ran out. I could make it for another six weeks but after that I'd be working at McDonalds or BurgerKing just to survive.
I'd sent out my resume hundreds of times and was ready to jump to a new career. That's when I found a obscure post on a neighborhood website asking for a caretaker for an older mature woman. "There's no way anyone would hire a man with no nursing home experience of skills to care for an older woman. But I answered the post anyway and was surprise to get a call asking me to come for an introductory conversation. Not an interview.. an introductory conversation. I'd never heard of such a thing but I went.
Mrs. Wemberley lived alone and had no next of kin. As I walked into her home she looked me up and down and a slight smile crossed her lips. She looked to be in pretty decent health and seemed fully capable of taking care of herself. Perhaps she's just conducting the conversation/interview for the real person needing a caretaker, I thought to myself.
She invited me to sit with her and I did. She began asking questions about my likes and interests. Nothing job related. Question after question about my personal tastes and some about my values or experiences in life. All through the process she would watch me and run her eyes up and down my body while nodding or smiling contently.
Eventually she told me that she was lonely and wanted someone to spend time with her. The caregiver post was her way of inviting people over to talk.
"So there's not really a job?" I asked.
"Well, not a job in the real sense of employment." she said. "I can pay someone to be here but I'm not registered as an employer so I wouldn't be paying employer taxes and such. I just need companionship and I'm willing to pay for it.
Now it was my turn to eye her up and down. She hadn't divulged her age but I presumed she was mid 70s to mid 80s. She looked good for her age with nice hair and she was wearing makeup and nice clothes. I also noticed she was fairly well endowed, the word busty came to mind and she had shapely legs from the knees down. Her dress was modest and covered all of her thighs as she sat there.
"So I guess there's no employment benefits like vacation, sick leave, medical care, those kinds of things?" I asked.
"No I can't provide any of those kind of benefits." she answered and looked me over once again.
She had emphasized "Those kind of benefits" in a way that suddenly aroused me. I stood up and moved from my chair to sit next to her on the couch.
"Exactly what kind of benefits would you be able to provide Mrs. Wemberley?" I asked.
She put a hand on my leg. Just above my knee and answered. "I'm not sure a young man like yourself would really appreciate the benefits of an older woman like me" Our eyes met and the connection was made. I took hold of her hand and slid it a little higher up my thigh.
"I think you under estimate what a man like me would like. I have a feeling you have a lot for me to appreciate." I said and as she smiled I moved her hand up a little more to where it was closer to my crotch than my knee. Our eyes were still locked on each other and I said, "I'm getting more interested in this job that you can imagine."
This time her hand moved on it's own and she rubbed it across the bulge that was growing there. I detected a little silent gasp in her breathing and she gave me a tender squeeze.
"You haven't asked what I can pay you yet. Maybe you won't want the position when you hear it" she said.
"Tell me then and let's get it all out in the open." I answered
"Well, I can't go more than a thousand a week but it's a full time commitment seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day. It's salary of course so you could have time to do things that you like to do and I would need you to live in the house." she said as if this was a bad thing.
"I don't cook." I said.
"I can still do all my own cooking and it's no trouble to fix your meals too since you'd be living here.
"Cleaning and laundry?" I asked.
"I have a service that comes in." she answered. "You just need to keep me company and do the little things that Wendell used to do before he passed."
"Wendell?" I asked.
"Wendell was my husband. He died eight weeks ago, bless his soul."
"When can I start?" I asked as I leaned across to brush my fingers across her cheek and then lower them to brush across her breast as I kissed her.
"You can move your things in whenever it's convenient for you dear. Let me show you where your room is and we can test to see if the bed is satisfactory for you while we're up there"
The bed was fine. Mrs. Wemberley was excellent and the thought of a thousand a week with no taxes coming out solved all my financial problems.
She had no living relatives and we had an incredible time together for the next 6 years. The sex slowed down as her health declined and she eventually passed and went to be with Wendell. But she named me as her sole beneficiary in her will. It seems Wendell had invested heavily in tech stock way back before google or adobe, or paypal and had amassed a fortune. A fortune that now belongs to me. But I do miss Mrs. Wemberley.
Great story for Granny lovers……. Every young man’s fantasy I imagine 🤔😜👍














