All the characters portrayed in this story are 21 or older except the dog who is 5.
*
I sat on the park bench feeding the pigeons and petting my little dog. It was a fine spring morning. The sun was shining and a gentle breeze wafted through the trees.
A statuesque, good looking blonde stopped in front of me and stared at my dog. "Ooo, she's so cute! What kind of doggy is she?"
"She's a miniature Dachshund," I replied as I assessed the blonde.
"What's her name? Can I pet her?"
"Her name is Lulu and yes, you can pet her."
The blonde sat beside me on the bench and started petting the dog which nuzzled her hand and licked her wrist. The blonde giggled.
"What is your name and can I pet you?" I asked the blonde.
"My name is Margo and I don't think we're ready for petting yet. You certainly are bold."
"Only the timid are lonely, Margo. When I see a beautiful woman, especially one who likes dogs, I all my usually timid composure goes away. You are a beautiful woman; so naturally, I want to know you better. Maybe a lot better."
Margo was still petting the dog and she was still smiling. "You don't know where I can get a little doggy like this one do you?"
"As a matter of fact, Lulu recently had puppies."
"Oh, can I see them? Where are they?"
"They are in my apartment. If you are not afraid of me, I can take you to see them."
She eyed me suspiciously. Then she looked at Lulu who was wagging her tail and licking her hand. I could tell from the way she looked at my dog that she was hooked.
"Okay, but keep your distance. I don't know you at all and I'm pretty choosey about my men."
I got up from the bench. "Am I one of your men?"
"Not yet," she replied.
Lulu towed us back to my apartment. I live in a luxury suite overlooking Central Park. As soon as we were through the door, Lulu made a run to her puppies and started nursing them.
"Have a seat," I told Margo. "I've got to feed her and get her some water. It's time for her pill too so I'll be a few minutes.
Margo made herself comfortable on my suede sectional while I took care of the dog. She was smiling, almost laughing when I came back to the living room.
"Did I do something funny?" I asked.
"Well, you got my name and I got Lulu's name but I didn't get your name."
"Oh sorry, I guess I should have introduced myself. My name is Harold Kincaid and you can pet me any time you want," I said with a lascivious leer.
"Boy, you're really hung up on this petting thing."
"I like petting. It's the second most fun you can have with a woman."