I'm seeking an editor if you're so inclined. I've contacted many on the editor's page with merely one response; 'Too busy' I know I'm not a literary artist, I however tremendously enjoy sharing my compositions and hope you enjoy reading them.
One nostalgic evening I was playing some old vinyl, this 45 by 'New Seekers' sparked the idea for this story.
I finished the bathroom renovation job earlier today, cashed the check worth 3 months' hard work. I'm happy yet feeling moderately depressed; let me explain my mixed emotions. The job was in an upscale gated community, the very attractive housewife, Delores, thick, long wavy black hair, riveting bright blue eyes flirted every day with me as I worked in their kitchen. Delores is in her forties, I'm 27; now, that wasn't my biggest concern as she had the exquisite, good looks and great body of a much younger woman. I'm single and was undeniably quite interested; it was the fact she was married and whenever they were together, they both seemed happy and appeared deeply in love. Her husband was very affectionate to her; however, he reminded me of a mob boss; so, valuing my kneecaps, and possibly my life; I allowed her to flirt but maintained a nose to the grindstone approach to my job.
Declining her ever increasing sexual advances was difficult but I prevailed.
Five weeks of me resisting her alluring body, her teasing me with seductive poses in tight fitting or skimpy attire; me continually denying the increasing urge to bend her over or carrying her to bed and giving her what she'd intimately alluded to and obviously desired.
The reno was complete, I presented her with my bill in their refurbished kitchen; she handed me a cold beer, "Please sit, Ron," she excused herself, "I'll be right back with your check." Delores left me in the kitchen.
Giving it one final effort; a fine effort indeed, as Delores returned in red stilettos, red fishnets, and a thin black garter, her exquisite form wrapped in a white lace full-length see-through wrap. A pink lacy under bra, that cradled the underside of her voluptuous breasts, her dark areoles, and hard nipples on full display, as if presenting them on a pink buffet platter to be sampled. The matching wispy mesh thong did nothing to hide but enhanced her trimmed black pubes and dark edged thick wavy labia lips poking past her mons pubis.
Well, she was barely in the other room a minute, so this seductive attire had to be under her former garments, this entire licentious seduction endeavor had to be preplanned. Delores rested one hand on her hip as she handed me the check. Gazing upon this stunning cougar in such provocative lingerie was extremely difficult not to cave, to succumb to this erotic bewitching erotic persona. I'm not in any relationship, it's been some time since I've had sex, let alone with such a sexy, wanton woman. I wrestle to not act on my ravishing thoughts, struggling to think with my larger head. My lips pursed, my eyes memorizing the enticing vision of the beguiling beauty, I tuck the check in my shirt pocket and chug my beer while continue ogling this stunning woman in lingerie craving salacious sex.
Setting down the beer bottle I smile, "Thank you Delores, but I reluctantly need to get going." Unbelieving I had the ability to turn down this vivacious vixen.
As I exited the front door, I heard her melodical voice call out; "You'll regret it."
I already did, but I started my truck, hit the steering wheel with my fist and drove away, her words repeating 'you'll regret it.'
I cashed the check and was now leaning against the cab fueling my work truck envisioning Delores dark triangle in that skimpy lingerie her enormous melons so ostentatiously offered. 'You'll regret it' reverberating behind the lascivious vision. Why did I walk away, I'm sure it would have been a memorable wild ride?
A silver Jag pulls in on the other side of the pump, as the alluring driver twists from the driver's seat, I am afforded a wonderful view of two long sexy legs in sheer silk stockings. A ravishing redhead, tall, slender, well-endowed wearing a snug black mini dress pulls herself from the low-slung sports car. Standing upright we exchange neighborly smiles, she shakes her head to make her thick scarlet mane flow to remain behind her shoulders, she wore minimal makeup, she didn't require any she was gorgeous, diamond necklace and matching earrings; several diamond rings; but none on her wedding finger, well-manicured nails.
I ponder a few pickup lines; naw she's exceptionally enticing and likely appalled at cliché advances. I need to be original, casual not a come on something genuine, witty and confident.
I know I'll regret it if I don't say something.
{Regret it, that's it; why not honestly ask what I was just pondering?}
I speak in a definitive voice, slightly louder than normal. "Regrets, do you ever have them?" I stand beside the pump as she retrieves her card from the pump stuffing it between the snug dress and her bosom; lifting the nozzle from its cradle without acknowledging me she inserts the nozzle into her car and starts the flow of fuel.
Persistent, with confidence "I'm Ron, you ever have regrets soon after you've moved on, regretting something you truly wish you could change but the opportunity was already lost?"
Turning to face me she rearranges her sunglasses to the top of her head; sultry green eyes slowly scan my body sizing me up. "Carla" her thin lips curl a warm friendly smile, "well yes, as a matter of fact just a minute ago as I left that supermarket" she gestured across the street. "As I pulled in here; I was regretting not saying anything to a woman entering the store as I exited."
My nozzle clicks off, I step away and pull my nozzle from my truck and place it on the cradle, twist on my gas cap and return to the side of the pump and continue, "When you pulled up I was regretting walking away from what undoubtably would have been a very pleasant sexual experience; so, while fueling I was telling myself never again. From now on I'll try not to have regrets; I'll always say something if I think I might regret it, I'll take action."
I lean casually on the side of the pump. "When you got out of your car, I was amazed, you're stunning I instantly thought I'd regret it if I didn't say something."
Carla stared at me with an apprehensive expression, I felt nervous, she might be about to scream for help. Not wanting to seem like a pervert, coming on too strong I look away allowing her the next move hoping it's not already too late.
"Yes," she nodded a grin replaced the anxious appearance "I like that idea, no more regrets." Carla stops fueling.
With a renewed confidence I ask "So if you join my 'NO REGRETS' club? I'll go with you to talk to that stranger; she's likely still there."
The gorgeous ginger replaces the nozzle to the pump, looks directly in my eyes pausing an uncomfortable moment for me; and says, "Ya, let's go; park your truck over there and jump in with me."
As I buckle up, she asks "Do you know the song 'GEORGY GIRL'?"
"No" I reply, her shiny legs have captured my attention, her short dress not covering much, and the side slit indicating no panties leaving only the possibility of a thong or nothing but a free breathing pussy. I'm surveying her smooth white thighs, comparing them to Delores. I think of the idiom 'as one door closes another opens,' declining Delores timed it so I met Carla.
Carla, sings as we drive, "Hey there, Georgy girl
Why do all the boys just pass you by?
Could it be you just don't try
Or is it the clothes you wear?
You're always window-shopping
But never stopping to buy
So shed those dowdy feathers and fly."
Carla glances at me, "Know it?"
I shake my head; confident I never heard the song.
Carla adds, "When I saw this gal enter the store, I immediately thought of that song, she is a very attractive woman but was homely dressed." We pull up in the front of the market.
"Ron, I am ultra rich, I operate a world-wide modeling agency, several spas and boutiques and I think a makeover would do wonders for this woman."
I follow her to the entrance; ogling her legs and ass, Carla has a huge smile when she turns, I'm sure she knows what I'm thinking. Carla speaks "She just needs a new look," the doors glide open, Carla takes my forearm, "There at the second checkout, the blonde." Carla points to a gal wearing worn baggy jeans and a non-flattering loose fitting, men's red and black plaid shirt.
I suggest, "Let's wait here, when she comes by, I'll start a conversation."
Pushing a cart nearly overflowing with groceries as she's close enough I make eye contact with her and say, "Excuse me, my friend saw you enter the store, and she regretted not speaking to you." The blonde gives Carla a once over, with a slight sneer, "Yes, I remember, I thought 'a stunning rich bitch' and I stepped aside to let her rush on with your uppity, arrogant life."
Carla's eyes widen astounded at the rude remark, I thought I might soon be refereeing a cat fight.
