Ah yes, she's here again - the girl. I've been watching her for several weeks now. She and her friends hang out at the pool where I live. Several of them must be sub-letting for the summer because there's no way a college student could afford to live here on a regular basis. Then again, who knows? Parents give their kids everything these days.
Of course, I like to give them things too. Just not the things their parents give them, or would likely want them to have. Like the best oral sex of their young lives and the opportunity to return the favor. Yes, I admit it - I am what is commonly called a "cougar", a mature woman who likes sex with noticeably younger people - in my case, younger women. I don't mind the term, either, as it applies so well. I enjoy stalking my prey and usually get her in the end. And in most cases, she and I are both more than happy with the result.
It makes it so much easier that I'm financially independent. I can thank my ex for that. Sure, he left me for some young cutie, a secretary at the firm he runs, but things were over by that time, and he was more than generous with the settlement (with a little help from my shark of a lawyer). So now I have this nice condo and plenty of money for clothes and entertainment, an essential part of which is the company of young women. That's a desire that had been simmering below the surface for a long time and finally asserted itself before the divorce was even final. I haven't looked back since.
And so far I've been pretty successful finding willing "prey". It helps a lot that I can buy them things and take them to nice places, but I definitely have other assets to offer. I was always attractive, and I've kept myself in good shape. My breasts are still full and high on my chest (without a boob job!) and my hips have that mature look without being too broad. I work out regularly, but just enough to stay trim, not "buff". I still like the soft, feminine look, and I wear my raven-colored hair a little longer to project that image. Overall, I have to say that I look pretty damned good for a woman of forty. So it's not just the money and things that get me the girls; they like what they see, for various reasons. Some clearly have "mommy" issues, some are turned on by the adventure and the "taboo" of older women, and some are just plain horny. From what I've seen of my current target, she will fall into the "adventurous" category. And there's no doubt in my mind that I will get her.
There are five or six in their little group, though two of them seem to be the common thread, almost always there while the others slide in and out. As it turns out, those are the two that have caught my eye, especially one, the strawberry blonde with the cute little body and lots of spunk. She seems to be the ringleader, the one they all revolve around, with a vibrant personality and a quick-witted, sarcastic style that make her the center of attention. I've been plotting how to get her into bed since the first time I saw her. Over the past few weeks I've managed to break the ice a bit, talking to her and her friends casually as the opportunities arose, making myself a familiar face, if nothing else. But today I'll make my move.
Luckily for me, there's a chaise open today right next to them, and my fantasy girl is right on the end. I saunter over casually and ask if the spot is taken. "Huh? ... Oh hi. No, go ahead," she says. I give her a friendly thank-you smile and politely drag the chaise a few feet away, still close enough to interact, but not crowding their space. I remove my swim cover and lie down, about six feet from my little redhead in the end position.
I pretend to read but I'm listening to their chatter, searching for something that will provide an opening for me. I quickly learn that my girl's name is Joanna, though some of them just call her Jo. Her friend, the other one who's there most often, is Jenny, a pretty brunette with a much different body type from Joanna - voluptuous and hippy, with a pleasant trace of lingering baby fat. I like her, too, and I catch a few other names, but they don't really matter right now. I have my focus.
Her hair is a light, reddish blonde, short and straight, kind of punky - a look that fits her personality perfectly. She's so feisty but such a little thing, trim and lithe, with boyish hips, a perfect, flat stomach and boobs that are small but nicely shaped. Her lime green bikini accents and exposes her body so nicely. She seems to be naturally fair-skinned, but right now she's lightly tanned from the summer sun. I can't take my eyes off her, though I keep my gaze hidden behind my sunglasses.
Their girlish banter fills the air, running the gamut from silly to boisterous, to rather ribald, bordering on crude. "Eat me raw!" I hear Joanna cry at one point, responding to some feigned insult. It's a little too loud, and I notice a few of the older women giving the girls nasty looks. Interestingly, I also notice a recurring theme of lesbian references in their talk, usually with a negative tone, as put-downs to one another. I file that away for future use.
I take a quick dip in the pool to cool off - only up to my waist, of course, making sure not to affect my hair and makeup. When I return, the topic has changed. Joanna is expounding about some boy she dated, or something. Apparently it wasn't the best experience, or maybe she's just entertaining her friends. In any case, she seems a little disdainful, making fun at the poor boy's expense.
"...he had a little dick, but a really nice sports car, so it wasn't a total waste. First things first, you know." They all laugh at Jo's comment, but again, the sexual reference doesn't go so well with the residents who overhear it.
Luckily, the others decide to get into the pool, leaving me alone with my girl. I take advantage of the situation, leaning over to make a quiet comment on her little routine. "That was a funny comment about your boy friend," I say, "but you know, some of the blue-hairs here aren't so open-minded about sexual topics." I smile sweetly and add, "I'd hate to see them make a complaint about your little group. I think you add something to the atmosphere around here."
Joanna eyes me a bit, then looks around the pool before she responds. "Yeah," I see what you mean," she says. "Not the hippest crowd around here, huh?"
"Well, we're not all so stodgy," I assure her. I offer my hand, providing an introduction. "I find you're very entertaining, By the way, I'm Lynn."
Joanna takes my hand coolly, but I get a little thrill at the first touch of her skin. "Hi," she says, "I'm Joanna. Oh, and he wasn't my boyfriend, just some random guy I hooked up with." I like the implication of that - her casual attitude toward sex.
I acknowledge my error politely, then change the topic, moving to something that will hopefully lead to more. "So you like sports cars?" I ask.
She smiles, suddenly warming up, and replies that she's got a 'thing' for fast cars. "They're such a rush," she says with some enthusiasm.
Encouraged, I ask, "Are you familiar with the BMW Z4 M?"
She scrunches her face cutely as she tries to picture the Z4. "No, I don't think so. I don't know the names too much. I just know the looks. Sounds expensive, though." That last comment seems to be a plus in itself.