Having just recently celebrated my forty-eighth birthday, I wasn't used to having a comely young woman about half my age appear to be checking me out as I stood at the counter of Panera Bread, waiting for my lunch order.
Granted, it may have been my imagination or wishful thinking on my part. However, as I shifted my body around to face her, it seemed she was not only checking me out, but perhaps also checking out my, um, package, which was involuntarily rising as the impure thoughts rattled through my head.
I had been doing alright in my rejuvenated sex life since the divorce a few years ago, but half my age? I hadn't crossed that plateau yet.
Still, there was something vaguely familiar about the tall, lean young woman with the short chestnut hair and deep brown bedroom eyes that were indeed running up and down in a visual scan of my torso. As I grabbed my tray, my stiffening prick twitched in gratitude of the attention. She had to notice it. Didn't she?
"Mister McCall, is that you?"
The twenty-something woman stood, revealing a hard, athletic body and long, looong legs that came up and made quite an ass out of her. Figuratively speaking, of course. I unconsciously walked towards her as if in a trance, lunch suddenly forgotten. C'mere, boy.
She threw her arms open wide, and squealed a schoolgirl squeal. Restrained, yet animated enough to get me harder. I plopped the tray down on her table.
"I KNEW that was you!" She leaned into me, pressing her chest into mine, causing an accelerated missile launch sequence within my suit pants. She smelled like orchids and strawberries and she gave me a big hug.
I glanced around nervously for the hidden cameras, sure that I was being 'punked'. That didn't stop me from sniffing her neck and hair, though, while I leaned my pelvis into hers. If this was only gonna last a minute, I was gonna enjoy that minute to the hilt.
She leaned back, her pretty face aglow. All other people in the store, not to mention the planet, had instantly disappeared. She put her hands on her hips, clad in tight denim jeans met at the waist by an olive-colored turtleneck ribbed sweater. Was that a nipple or two poking through the cotton? Yep, me thinks so. Wow!
But..who the fu.......?
"Allison," she said. No help. She scrunched her nose in dismay, but only for a nanosecond.
"Allison Mattern? Your old babysitter? For Lindsay and Thomas, your kids. God, what has it been, ten years? You look great!"
I look great? Me? I thought to myself, Allison, have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? Now, you my dear, you look mah-velous. This was all in my head, and it dawned upon me that I still hadn't said anything except perhaps a grunt or two. I figured I better snap to it lest she leave my domain as quickly as she had entered it.
"Allison! Oh my gosh. What a surprise. Boy, have YOU grown up." She smiled a winning smile, flashing big, bright, perfect front teeth, Sheryl Crow-type teeth. Chipmunky in a sexy way, a slight overbite, good for gently scraping over a dick. Oh, the way my mind works.
She leaned in and hugged me again, this time holding it for a few seconds longer than necessary, especially in a public place. Not that I was complaining. It's not every day you get a hottie scrunching privates with you at the local lunch joint.
I did the math quickly. Allison baby-sat my two kids when they were about nine and ten. Ally, as we called her, was about sixteen or seventeen then, a junior in high school. She was a long, tall piece of water, not yet filled out, a gangly, awkward teenager.
Cute back then, sure, no doubt. But not the stunner she was now. I surmised she was about twenty-seven now, give or take a year. Amazing the way kids grow these days.
We sat and talked over the next half hour, catching up, making small talk. All the while I was trying to swivel and squirm and discourage my hard-on from distracting me beneath the table. Unsuccessfully.
Because of the threat of raising the table in a penile levitation magic trick of sorts, I did most of the questioning. Allison had graduated from Temple, her basketball career ended by an ACL injury. She then fully focused her attention on her academics, received a masters degree in civil engineering from Lehigh, one of the best engineering schools in the country, and was currently working for an architectural firm.
This was one smart cookie, bright and beautiful.
And something else, as I was about to learn, when she turned the questions on me.
"So, um, if you don't mind me asking, I'm guessing you're no longer with Mrs. McCall?"
I blinked, and for the first time my erection took a brief sabbatical. "Why, yes, that's true. We finalized our divorce a few years ago, once the kids were about to leave for college." I was curious that her intuition was correct. "Um, how did you know that?"
She smirked, and touched my ring finger. "You used to wear your ring and almost flaunt it, at least in my opinion. I was so jealous."
Her mere touch resurrected the arousal. "Jealous? Why?"
Allison leaned forward, her body language betraying her. I'm usually unlike most males, I have to be totally convinced by a woman's less-than-subtle cues that she is interested. She licked her lips, tossed her hair from her forehead, and moved closer to me. The seductress trifecta. She was interested, despite my disbelief. What she said next only augmented my desire for this young woman, no longer awkward, no longer a geek.
"I used to have the biggest crush on you, Mr. McCall. In fact, you gave me my first orgasm."
