It was already getting hot, the sun was in a clear sky, and the humidity not quite oppressive. I was getting the grass cut early in the day to avoid the promised sauna-like afternoon. We had moved into our brand new home a couple of years ago - nice neighborhood of mixed young and middle-aged working families, some with children, along with a few older retired couples like ourselves. Our neighbors on one side were a retired couple older than we - pleasant and helpful but with few outside interests. On the other side was a family of forty-something school teachers with two sons - maybe 14 and 17. They were an athletic-prone family. The husband was a phys-ed teacher/coach, the oldest son was into little league baseball, and the other son was a scratch golfer on the junior high team. I think the wife's father had been a golf club pro. She was an Art teacher but she obviously had been athletically active for most of her life. She had a strong, compact body which now was probably twenty-five pounds overweight - mostly in her tummy, bottom, and high-hipped love handles. I judged her to be about 45.
I was halfway through the lawn-mowing chore when Dana (the athletically inclined wife next door) came out to get her yard chores done early too. I had noticed that she did almost all the yard and garden work around their house. The husband pruned a tree once and one of the sons sometimes mowed the lawn - otherwise Dana did it all. Their yard was nicely landscaped and well cared for.
When she came out we waved and shouted friendly "Hi's". On the occasions when we both were working outside I sensed a mutual respect for one another's industry. Sometimes we'd stop and chat for a minute or two. This morning I went on cutting the grass. She seemed to be weeding, pruning, transplanting.
Just before I had finished the front yard and was ready to move to the back, Dana was struggling with a large container of lily plants. I shut down the mower and went to help. I offered in my friendly neighbor tone, "Wait a minute! Let me give you a lift. What do you want to do with this thing?"
"Oh! Thanks, Matt. I need to take it around back so I can clean it and replant it."
"It seems too heavy to just carry back there."
"Well, yeah, I thought I'd try to drag it back."
"I'll get my wheel barrow thing." I left and returned with my yard cart. We slid-lifted the container onto the cart and took it around back.
"Oh! Thanks. That was really heavy." As usual I studied her intently - hoping I was being discrete, but attracted by her pleasant charm and womanly features. Her facial skin had aged into premature wrinkles - probably from lots of sun exposure. Otherwise her face was average-attractive but totally absent of make-up. Her hair was thick, heavy, and mixed blond-gray. She always wore it the same - in a straight, long page boy to her shoulders with heavy bangs - sometimes held back with a ribbon. She went on, "You look really warm, would you like a cold beer or something?"
"Well, a glass of ice water would be good."
She went inside and came out a few moments later with two glasses of ice water. We sat down in a couple of lawn chairs in the shade of some pine trees. "Thanks very much - this really hits the spot." After a few sips, "I've seen you do some pretty heavy duty work in the yard but when you started moving that tub of lilies it just looked like too much to me."
"I guess it was. I didn't think it would be that heavy but we've had a lot of rain lately and the soil is saturated. Thanks for the help." After a few more sips, "You two have landscaped beautifully; I love your patio arrangement. I was kind of sorry to lose the vacant lot but you've more than made up for the loss."
"Thanks, but I'm just the grass cutter and dirt digger, Connie is the planter and nurturer. Are you the one who kept the grass on the vacant lot cut and the weeds subdued?"
"Mmmm hhmmm, well, the boys and I. Whenever they're not playing in a game or practicing, I have them do the grass mowing."
We chatted for ten or fifteen minutes. She talked mostly about the boys but very little about her husband. When he came up in the conversation she seemed to briefly "cloud over" and arranged for him to be dropped out. When we ranged into other subjects she again perked up and became more animated. I saw him around very little - he always seemed to be inside when she was out or off with one of the boys or just "off". A mystery. Oh, well. None of our lives are perfect.
Dana wanted to know where we'd come from and what we had done before retiring and what we did now. While we talked I appraised like the veteran girl-watcher that I am. Her facial complection was out of sync with the rest of her visible body. Her visible body was limited to arms, hands, and legs from ankle to mid-thigh, and they looked her age. She was wearing the type of workout garb she always seemed to wear. Perhaps once, I vaguely remembered, I had seen her leave the house in a long, ankle length shapeless gathered skirt and some kind of shapeless top.
Her work garb consisted of sport socks and boots; latex, mid-thigh work-out/warm-up tights; and a baggy matching t-shirt or baggy short-sleeved sweatshirt - depending on the weather. I didn't have to be a psych PhD to know that either Dana's hormones were heavily laced with tom-boy stuff OR she was hiding a body that wasn't up to her self-image standard. Probably both.
While I appraised I sensed that she too was appraising in a fashion. I was sensing an unusual, personal chemical reaction to Dana. I recognized the symptoms: I wanted to touch her, my throat felt a little tingly, and my groin felt faintly snuggly. What was the attraction? Well - her legs were well shaped and well toned although a little heavy, and the thighs looked strong, "comfortable" and full. Her hips and "love-handles" were fuller and higher than she probably would like and her breasts appeared to be very generous. As best I could tell they were the size of large grapefruits and moderately pendulant - they definitely were occupying a lot of space in her bulky t-shirt. Her tummy was pronounced - no flat abs here. In short, she wasn't a sexual object I would seek out, but her body was firm and well toned - not flabby. Even though her legs, thighs, and breasts were very appealing in an earthy sense, it was that other "certain something" to which I was really reacting. That certain something?
These strong, inexplicable, sexual reactions had been rare for me. I could remember only three of four in my lifetime. I've never known for sure if they are entirely self-generated or whether they were triggered by an exchange of chemistry or aura with the other person. However, in those I could remember, it later turned out the other person had felt similar, unexplainable attractions. Not all these women were notably beautiful, but all the attractions were notably sexual. Chemistry? Pherimones?
Well. I had work to do. And I knew this "reaction" wasn't likely to go anywhere so I would be wise to suppress it. "Dana, thanks for the life-saving water. I'd better get back to my grass." For a moment I had a feeling Dana had sensed my overlong appraisal of her thighs and breasts. I hoped I hadn't offended her.
