Lin Chen Andrews smiled at that handsome young man Thomas as she spotted him crossing the street from the university campus and approaching her shop. Tom Jacobs was tall, like her husband Bruce Andrews, but lean. Also, he was a college kid in his early twenties, much different than Bruce, who was almost sixty. Tom was much younger than her, too, for Lin was in her early fifties. Despite her age, because of her Asian heritage and her regular workouts, she looked to most people to still be in her mid thirties. She was very short, only five feet, and delightfully curvy.
Lin's storefront was open to the street, separated by a counter for taking and ringing up orders and for giving people their food or coffee. Tom walked up to the counter, and said, "Hi Lin!"
"Hi, hi, hi Tom!" she replied enthusiastically, smiling up at him. "I saved a sausage one for you, or we have bacon, and ham."
"I'll try bacon this time." Lin started to heat up a bacon Poke Ball. It was her own recipe, a large rice ball with meat and spices served up with a fork in wax paper. Lin had just opened her shop on Monday. Now it was Thursday, and Tom and his tousled mop of blond hair and t-shirts with inexplicable symbols on them had come for lunch every day since she opened. Now Tom's friends were starting to show up as well.
"You're such a good boy! You come to my shop every day. I'll give you a discount."
"No need Lin. I get plenty of money from my parents. You're just starting your shop. In fact, keep the change." He handed her a twenty.
"All right," she said, putting the twenty into her register. She didn't have the heart to tell him that she didn't need the money either. Her husband Bruce made plenty. She had opened the shop because she had become so bored and lonely sitting around the house all the time while Bruce was off working. She was stir-crazy. She wanted some excitement in her life. Of course, there was always a use for money. There was that new couch she had her eye on.
There was a back area to the shop for food preparation separated from the front by a swinging door. Lin's big sister Wanda walked out with some newly prepared Poke Balls. After introductions all around, Wanda joked with Tom, "Watch out for her flirting with you! She's a respectable housewife now, but in her younger days, I could tell you stories."
"Stop! She's lying," insisted Lin, blushing.
"But I've been trying to flirt with Lin," said Tom. "She just tells me I'm a good boy and hands me my food."
"That is flirting!" said Wanda.
"Stop it," protested Lin. Even so, as she handed over his Poke Ball, Lin looked deeply and intently up into Tom's eyes, and said, "Good boy." Now she knew he knew she was flirting with him. She felt like a shameless hussy for the first time in a long time. It felt so exciting! Anyway, it was entirely a fantasy. Surely such a handsome young man would never take a serious interest in an old woman like her.
Lin was not good at seeing herself as the highly desirable woman she was. Tom stood there for a moment, struck, then finally said, "Oh yeah. Thanks. See you tomorrow." He turned on his heel and walked back towards campus.
The very next day, Tom was back. "I looked into why your café is so hard to search for on the Internet. It turns out that there's a very popular video game called Pokemon, and Pokeballs are things used in that game. So those are the only Poke Balls that show up in a search."
"Okay, thanks," sighed Lin. Another setback.
"I wish there was something I could do to help," Tom continued.
"Here," offered Lin, "Come move some boxes." She let him behind the counter and led him to the back room. Wanda was back there making more Poke Balls. "Go up and help the customers," Lin told her. Wanda left the room quietly, giving her a look like, what are you up to, sister?
There were indeed some boxes of supplies blocking the back entrance needing to be put up on shelves. After moving them, Tom asked, "Anything else?"
Lin had taken over making the Poke Balls. "Not unless you can cure my sciatica," she replied.
"Well," said Tom hopefully, "I am a nursing student, you know. I know where the nerves are."
Lin knew he was a nursing student from earlier conversations, and was hoping he would say that. "Could you rub me?" Lin even managed to get out the request without stumbling over it. It was a big departure for her to be this forward. While alone, she had practiced this line into the mirror dozens of times and was now thankful at having done so. Was she going against the Buddha's five precepts? Surely not. She was merely asking for help with her sciatica. This was not wrong. She was just shy about it, and because of this shyness had to practice asking for help. This was not wrong!
"Sure, have a seat," Tom replied, at first thinking nothing of the harmless request.
"I have to make Poke Balls." Being industrious was absolutely not wrong. She shouldn't interrupt her work for this indulgence.
This is how Tom ended up sitting on the floor of Lin's prep room at eye level with Lin's ass, which was barely concealed by stretch pants, as he rubbed the nerves in her ankles and calves and Lin continued to work on the next batch of Poke Balls. This is exactly where she had fantasized him, and based on the shy glance that passed between them, she guessed that he knew that. This was still not wrong. She was shy, was all. Shyness is a part of life and nothing to be ashamed of. The fact that she had fantasized about this a few times recently while her husband Bruce was having his pleasure on top of her, that was merely harmless fantasizing.
After all, this is what Bruce had been bugging her about for years. Mostly she had ignored it. Over the last few years, as she had grown more bored and feeling alone at home, as Bruce's lovemaking had grown more mundane, she had begun to secretly fantasize about it, only because she wanted to please and respond to her husband, of course. If she used such harmless fantasies to be a little more excited under him, where was the harm? It was beneficial to their marriage. It was her duty.
She found herself wondering how innocent this young man was. Probably about as much as she was, she guessed. By her age, she had had a couple of husbands and a couple of boyfriends in between those husbands. Her guess was that Tom had had a couple of girlfriends by now. She was curious. Asking a harmless question was not wrong. "So, you have a girl?"
"No, ma'am."
