Margaret and I met at a bar a while back as you might recall. A lot of stuff has happened since then, but I gotta tell this particular story now. It's too good. I had moved into the sorority house. Yeah, what can I say; other than I guess fucking the Pres' boyfriend didn't hurt my chances. Anyway, the house was deserted on a Saturday in late spring. Most of the girls went to the beach for the weekend. I had worked on the day in question, but was off until Tuesday. Margaret was letting me share her room until a single opened up. I was hoping somebody would get pregnant or flunk out. There were a couple of candidates I was rooting for.
I was on the little third floor balcony outside our room sipping an apple martini. You can only imagine how mellow I was feeling. I was wearing a large, cotton shirt, sleeves rolled up, and a pair of my favorite old, baggy, cotton khaki shorts. I would have preferred being naked, but I didn't want to attract the campus cops. Up the street a guy was mowing a lawn. The faint aroma of newly mown grass and internal combustion fumes were in the air. I love that smell; it reminds me that it's the best time of year.
I forget what I had on the stereo, probably something mellow.
Anyway I was thinking about what a dream it was living in the house. A lot of guys I have known would probably give 10 years off their life to be in my position. I'm not as obsessed with girls as are men. But when a girl strolls down the hall with her kimono loosely tied or wearing her camisole and bikini bottoms, I sometimes have to retire to my room and give my clit some loving attention. Trust me guys, and girls for that matter, it's as good as you imagine. Sorry, getting a little away from the point of the story.
My reverie was interrupted by a knock on the door. I thought, oh fuck. It was locked. Another knock. "Hey Meg it's me", I recognized Margaret's mother's voice; she apparently didn't know Margaret was at the beach. I opened the door, said hi and invited her in. Her name is Nicole, I told her of Margaret's whereabouts.
She accepted my offer of a martini. Her face was slightly red and she was sweating; she must have been jogging or playing tennis- or fucking I suppose. She wore tight jogging shorts a tank top, and a bra. She is probably early 40's and big like Margaret.
"This is a wonderful drink, but to really make my afternoon complete I need a shower."
"I should be able to help, we've got the bathroom we share with our suitemates, but everybody's out of town so go on in and shower." She drained her glass, and handed it to me. "Another?" she nodded. "There're clean towels in there." I had to make a new batch of martinis, so while I was working on that she went in the bathroom and closed the door. I poured myself one...ahhhh. I decided to see if she wanted her drink now or wanted to wait. I asked through the door.
"Bring it on in" I was a little startled when I opened the door, she had the shower curtain open and stood with her right foot on the tub edge shaving her thigh...up real high on her thigh. She looked at me and smiled, "put it there on the sink." I followed instructions then left, and closed the door.
I was back out on the balcony when she came out of the bathroom. She poured another drink. She was wearing a short, silk robe, nothing on underneath and not fastened in front. At the time it was not clear whether she didn't know I was watching or didn't care. I took a sip now and then as I enjoyed observing her.