Marry the Bride and Fuck the Bridal Mother
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HandymanChapter 2 free porn video
The rest of the week was unexceptional; a fence repair (replacing three panels of lapped fencing that had disintegrated with age) several drawers in a flat-pack desk that the bottoms had dropped out of (people will insist on filling them with heavy stuff like CDs), an overflowing toilet cistern, and several light-fittings that needed replacement. When it got to Saturday morning, I was glad I had nothing booked. I had, in fact, forgotten about Katryn. Is that Freudian, or what?
I was sitting with a cup of coffee, having eaten my breakfast toast, trying to decide if I had enough motivation to tidy the workshop and hone edged tools, or whether it was a ‘go for a walk and forget work’ Saturday.
When the door-bell rang, of course, I remembered. There was Katryn, every bit as attractive (and distracting) as before ... possibly, probably, more so.
“Come in,” I said, trying to convey ‘invitation and welcome’ rather than the misgivings I actually felt, “I’m just having my morning caffeine fix. Tea, or coffee for you?”
“Oh ... tea please.”
“I have Indian, China or Assam and a selection of herbal teas.”
“Have you got Earl Grey?”
“For sure! Milk or lemon with it?”
“Neither, thanks – as it comes.”
Once she was settled with her cup of tea and I had a refill, I began.
“Right, Katryn. Wood is lovely stuff, but you have to work with it. If there are faults or twists or warps, you have to work round them or incorporate them into the final product. First rule, is plan carefully. And the second is like unto the first; measure twice, cut once. Marking out is vital. Checking you’ve marked correctly is vital. You will make mistakes, but if you’re careful, you’ll spot most of them before you cut. Once you’ve cut, it’s probably too late.” I looked at her and raised an eyebrow.
She looked back and nodded.
“Now, safety.” I looked her over, sighing inwardly. The main danger was that I would make a mistake. “Your lovely hair,” I paused, “will need to be put up and contained in some way. Your clothes...” she was wearing a t-shirt that accentuated her ... assets, and jeans that did nothing to conceal her figure. “What you have on is fine from a safety point of view, but if there’s dirty work to do, you may want to choose something that doesn’t matter if it gets stained or torn. Now ... how do I put this? This is not a criticism, or a judgement, but I ... need to concentrate too, and it would be easier if ... I were less aware of you as a woman.”
She grinned what I could only describe as a ‘gamine’ grin. “Can I take that as a compliment?”
“Yes, you can, but I hope you also take it as a request and a warning.” My voice was as serious as I could make it. “Okay then; equally serious; keep your hands behind the blade.” I held out my hands, turning them to show the healed scars from slipped tools when I had not obeyed the rule. I pointed to one in the palm of my left hand, “I had no sensation in the sides of two fingers for six months after stabbing myself with a quarter-inch wood chisel – I cut a nerve. I was lucky; it grew back, but they don’t always.”
She met my eyes and nodded. Her expression was serious; I hoped the lesson had sunk in. We sipped our drinks.
“I’m going to start by giving you some simple exercises using off-cuts. You’ll have the opportunity to use edged tools – tenon saw, chisel and mallet – and learn how to cut cleanly and precisely. I’m not going to let you use machine tools, like the morticer until I know you can do it the old-fashioned way ... the hard way. Okay?” I emptied my cup.
She nodded again. “That sounds to be exactly as I want it.”
In my workshop, I waved at the bench, which had an untidy litter of items on it.
“First, don’t do as I do, do as I say. I’m a bit lazy and messy,” I said, racking several items and inspecting one or two before consigning them to the bin, then sweeping the rest with a soft brush into a dust-pan.
“In fact, very lazy. When it’s just me, it doesn’t matter too much. Tidy is safe. I want you to be safe. I can risk myself, but I don’t want you hurt, and I don’t want to be hurt by you. Clear bench,” I said, indicating the space and going to my off-cuts bin. I found a couple of pieces of square soft-wood. “First exercise. Measure off eight inches, choose a face side and a face edge and mark them. Use the try-square to mark from your faces – don’t just work round in one direction, because your lines won’t meet.”
I watched as she followed my instructions to the letter.
“Good. Use this, which is called a ‘bench hook’” I held up a wooden construction – a flat piece of wood with two pieces screwed to it, placed it on the bench with one piece of wood stopping it from sliding, and the other, on top, opposite, “to stop your work sliding around. Use the tenon saw,” I held up my old brass-backed saw, “start it very carefully, don’t let it wobble, and leave the line on the work.”
She took the saw, and I stood behind her as she began to cut.
“Just a minute.” I reached round her, “The saw must move in a straight line. That’s not really a natural action for us, so you need to concentrate.” Closing my hand over hers, I demonstrated the action required, then let go.
She started to cut again. “That’s it, watch the blade. Follow your marked line, just skimming the edge, but you need to watch both the vertical and horizontal line ... good!”
She cut through. The cut was just about perfect. I then had her cut another piece twelve inches long, and explained how to mark a cross-halving joint ... which meant using a marking gauge. By lunch time, she’d cut a just about perfect halving joint, which meant she’d made a cross. The halving joint is really the simplest, most basic joint (other than a butt-joint, which has no structural strength), but that doesn’t make it less important, and it was an excellent indication of her ability to mark out and cut a joint. When I praised her, she just glowed with pleasure.
We stopped for lunch – she’d brought sandwiches, and I made tea for both of us and sandwiches for myself. We talked about all sorts of things – art and creativity, logic, the ability to perceive how things work. You’ll gather I was becoming more and more impressed with this young woman.
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