I have to get this off my chest: I did something and now I have mixed feelings. I feel both fantastic and guilty, but mostly I feel a bit perverted. Let me tell you what happened this weekend.
I belong to a group of women who meet once a month to wine, dine, chat, and in general have a good time. This past Saturday we met for dinner at one of our member's homes. Her son was spending the weekend there with a college friend and they were milling about, mooching the food and wine. Well, at some point the son's friend walked up to me and started a conversation. He was flirty and a little cocky and was carrying on about working out when he mentioned something about wanting me to be his personal trainer. Cindy, one of the women in the group, actually happened to be a personal trainer, and as I am a bit on the fluffy side and not athletically inclined, I figured he had me confused and was referring to her. When I said so, he looked at me confidently and simply replied "No, I'm not confused, I would want YOU to train me." He looked intensely into my eyes for few seconds and moved on leaving me flattered, but shaken. A few moments later he deliberately looked at me after he used the word MILF during a conversation with his friends.
Hmmmm?
He really WAS hitting on me!
I became flustered, looked around, this kid was in a group of middle-aged women, friends of his buddy's mother, and he was openly hitting on me. He was good looking: cute AND ripped. I could not quite understand; there must have been dozens of girls his age that would have killed to go out with him.
 A little bit later, he walked up to me and said "Think about it," then turned and went back to his friend.
It was quite an ego boost. For the rest of the evening I only saw him from afar, but when I got home, I realized that I was really aroused by the conversation.
But it was casual, and there was nothing I was going to do about it, so I let it go. I had almost forgotten about it by morning. Then, about noon I received a text from an unknown number. I was startled when I read the words:
"Did you think about it?"
I was not expecting this. He'd been serious.
Completely off guard, I went to my husband, to whom I had not mentioned what had happened and laid it all out.
 He smiled and said
"Do you want to do this? Because if you do, I can go to town to run some errands, and give you some privacy."
I bit my lip, my brain said "This is crazy," while the throbbing between my thighs said "Obviously you want this."
"Yes I do!"
Kissing me on the lips, my husband said
"Well, have fun, and please share with me the details later."
I texted him back, and gave him our address, to which he replied:
"I'll be there in 45 minutes."
And there I was, not sure what was more swollen, my ego or my pussy.
Now for the details... I was bent on setting the scene. I ran to the kitchen, sliced some cheese and fruit, washed a bunch of grapes and opened a bottle of white wine. I considered champagne, but sometimes it gives me a headache and that is something I did not need.
I poured myself a glass to calm the flutters in my belly. That felt weird. Hell, this was probably an inexperienced college kid, why was I nervous?
I took everything to the deck, because the weather was ideal for what I had in mind. I checked the temperature on the hot tub and it was perfect. I set up a small table with the wine, cheese, and fruit.
I carefully positioned two chairs about three feet apart with a small table to one side, I actually picked a taller chair for myself and a lower one for him. I wanted him to have the visual vantage point.
I ran to the shower, carefully soaped myself with a nice almond soap, rinsed off, and then did it again, rubbing a few very sensitive erogenous points along the way. I used the almond soap because it leaves a nice scent and I was worried that the perfume I usually apply to my neck and inner thighs might be a bit much this early. I dried, brushed, looked down, checked my bush and considered some trimming. Kids his age are unaccustomed to pubic hair.
I turned to Paul as he was ready to leave and asked him, "Should I trim?"
He gently pushed me back on the bed and spread my thighs.
"Let him see what a real woman looks like." He ran the tip of his finger between my lips and whispered "Annabelle, you're already wet," He kissed me softly and left.
I picked a pretty set from my lingerie drawer, thought about what dress should I wear and then on second thought chose a very sexy silk kimono robe.
I did a twirl, thought about it, decided to be naughty, and took the bra and panties off.
Before long I received his text.
"I'm here."
I took a deep breath and sent back:
"Come around the back. I am in the garden." I sat in my chair and waited for him, my heart pounding, and my inner thighs throbbing in anticipation.
He walked around the corner of the house, looking rather flustered. He had made an effort to dress up, and I liked that. He had a pair of khakis and a Polo shirt that nicely contoured his broad chest and pecs.
I stood, gave him a peck, looking straight into his eyes, and motioned him to the chair. I turned my back, knowing that the gown was clingy, and asked,
"Are you actually old enough to drink?"
"Yes ma'am, I'm 23," which was probably a lie but I knew he was of legal age. The "ma'am" part did make me cringe, though.
"Call me Anabelle", I muttered, "under the circumstances".
His hand shook slightly as I handed him his wine glass. I knew I'd need to settle him down a little or things would never work out. I said "So... Great timing, I have the afternoon free, as my husband is out of town", well-knowing that he was probably not far waiting for my "come back home" call.
Teasing him, I asked "Tell me this about being a MILF, what do you mean by that?"
He blushed and mumbled something about that being the way that guys his age referred to attractive older women.
Noticing his embarrassment, I leaned forward and smiled, I reached up to touch his face and said "It's okay. I'm flattered."
I was enjoying toying with him. I uncrossed, then re-crossed my legs, making sure the gown slipped a bit and gave him a good look at my thighs, exposing the pale skin in contrast to the black silky robe.
He tried to keep his eyes focused on my face but they kept wandering down, I looked at him intently, took a sip of my wine, slipped the other hand under the robe, cupping my breast and said
"So, you found me attractive. Tell me more. What do you like about me, I certainly don't look like your college friends." I let the robe fall a bit more, exposing some breast, belly and thigh.
His expression changed and he became quiet. He looked uneasy, eyes darting over my body.
I decided to throw all caution to the wind.