I have seen her at the dog park many times. She was 30ish, compared to my mid 20's.
We had never spoken. Not a word. Occasional nods, but never any syllables.
She was like her dog, beautifully groomed and well behaved. Both had blondish hair and sleek bodies. She was in a higher tax bracket than me, you could tell by her appearance. Me, I resembled my hound. Unruly, dirty, in need of a haircut and a wash. Maybe some training.
With the day threatening rain, the park was empty. We kept our distance, but today, I couldn't take my eyes off her. She knew that I was staring at her, but she was fine with it. It was part of our game. In fact, she was posing for me, and when she sat on the bench across the field, I did the same.
Ms. Golden Retriever casually put one leg over the other, gracefully crossing them to display her elegance and long tanned legs. Not me. I pulled my left ankle up and put it on my right knee. I hoped that the opening of my shorts allowed an unimpeded view of my junk.
Uncertain if she even noticed, I adjusted myself. Her hand lifted the rim of her sunglasses. Through squinted eyes, she looked at my shorts. With a smile and a mischievous grin, she lowered the sunglasses and uncrossed her legs. We had upped the game. This was new.
The image of her bright green panties shone like the holy grail from under her skirt. I could see, but not well enough. I spread my legs wide as a hint. Nothing.
Blondie was still looking when I used my fingers and gave a scissored "spread" signal.