In my teens, the only time that I routinely saw Ellen Thomas was racing through her house to her son's room, usually to play video games. I didn't go out of my way to see his mom or talk to her, but I usually got a cheery 'Hello' from her if I paused long enough for that short conversation. Occasionally, I ate over and saw a little more of her and she'd politely ask me about school or sports or something current.
Jake and I had known each other since sixth grade when he moved into our neighborhood with his single mom. I never knew what happened to his dad; he just wasn't there and never had been, as far as I could tell.
Jake was shorter than me, and had an outgoing personality. I was more introspective, but stood well over six feet. I filled out and got muscular in high school. He bulked up a little too much. He liked a wide variety of girls. I dated only a few girls in my class without any great enthusiasm. I felt glad to be in his circle of friends, and he told me that he liked having a 'brainiac' as a best friend. Of course, we both liked video games and spent hours each week in front of his large TV set battling trolls, aliens, or some other game. After he went to college out west, our get togethers became rarer since he wasn't home, but we did keep in touch electronically and even gamed some. I was a serious student; Jake wasn't.
The rare and casual contacts with Mrs. Thomas changed at the end of my junior year at the local university. At the beginning of that summer, she suggested that I get a summer job at the country club where she worked as the Social Director. I did. She informed me that everyone that worked there did so on a first name basis; thus, she became Ellen and I was known as Josh.
My summer job was to be a 'General Utility Outfielder'. I was a 'gofer' and anything else the club managers wanted me to be. Officially, by title, I was an Aide. One morning or day or week, I'd be assigned to the pro shop and be herding golf carts around, cleaning them, and recharging them. Another time, I'd be a bus boy in the restaurant, particularly on Tuesdays, when the Ladies Club met. I had tried for internships or jobs more relevant to my college major, but there were none to be had that year, at least nearby.
I was a few months from being able to serve alcoholic drinks, but I could clean the bar area and restaurant. I was put in charge of the 'Club Rooms' where mostly card games and Mah-jong took place during the day, and poker games at night. I washed the bathrooms. I stocked supplies all over the club. I checked the pool chemicals. I even watched over some young kids as their mothers played tennis.
I got assigned to the Social Director to help decorate and conduct the bi-weekly Saturday evening social events. I think Ellen was pleasantly pleased; I certainly was. She, because I had a good reputation as a mature and follow-through kind of guy, and I'd been a good student, which she said showed merit. She always thought I was a good influence on her son.
I was pleased to help her because I'd be working for someone that I knew and liked. Moreover, although I'd never framed the thought before, I'd be helping a 'looker'. Ellen was a beautiful older woman, and I'd just woken up to that fact after frequently seeing her for years when she was 'just' Jake's mom.
The first afternoon I worked with her we were in the main dining room doing set up. I got my first chance to seriously watch and interact with her. Why hadn't I paid more attention to her growing up and being at my best friend's home. My eyes opened wide as we worked.
Ellen was sexy, hot, beautiful, and vivacious. She had a bounce to her step and was infectiously happy, animated, active, and optimistic about life. More to that, she was beautiful with a capital 'B'. God had graced her with perfect proportions of every curve, every line, every swell, and every crevice, as far as I could tell. A model with her looks would want for nothing, but she chose to work in the club almost out of the public eye. Her looks were a natural gift, but she seemed immune to it all and I never saw an instant of conceit or haughtiness. She was pure delight and open to everyone.
The country club was a new scene for me. My family didn't belong, and I was sure that was a money thing based on some of the numbers regarding membership costs that I learned. These folks were on the rich side of life. Thus, the whole experience was new for me. Ellen knew this and would give me short instructions or observations that helped me get used to the scene, fit in, and be more useful. She knew that I was a newbie.
That first social event that I worked on with Ellen was a Father's Day Dance in mid-June. Ellen discovered that the nearby schools no longer did daddy-daughter dances. Thus, the club would host one for the members. Based on sign-ups, the idea was popular. Early afternoon of the event, I laid out the temporary dance floor in the main dining room -- large six-foot square sections of polished wood flooring that locked together atop the plush carpeting into a smooth thirty-by-third-six-foot dance area.
I put up some garlands, banners, and small signs with famous quotes about fatherhood and how nice their 'princesses' were. There was also a photo gallery Ellen had assembled of many of the father-daughter pairs in the club, some with mother's and others in the pics. Another highlight in the seating area was an area that contained many 'Dad Toys' -- things most dad's liked when they were younger: some sports paraphernalia, a model railroad with a four-car train running in a loop, someone's stamp collection, an X-Box, some books, a guitar, some LPs, cassettes, and CDs, and more; Dad hobbies. In another corner, were more girlish hobbies and a wide-selection of dolls and a large and elaborate doll house.
I unfolded the bandstand from the wall where it was usually stored, since there'd be a live band playing -- a five-piece combo that did the usual gigs at the club, I learned. We finished at five o'clock, just as a few of the band members showed up to set up their electronics and instruments. The start time for the cocktails and dinner event was six o'clock.
I had worked in jeans and a t-shirt, but Ellen had me bring in some 'nice' clothes to change into for the evening event. I was to be there through the event and then help close up. I worked long hours that day, but I earned a day off with pay. I showered, shaved, and dressed in the men's locker room. I was ready before six.
Ellen had also changed at the club into sexy spike heels and a beautiful maroon cocktail dress that displayed some cleavage as well as a sexy pair of legs. -- more delicious curves. Suddenly, I found myself really checking out my buddy's mother and she registered high on the MILF scale, and also like an older version of the proverbial 'girl next door'.
I was smitten.
She put me at a table by the door, being a 'cheerful greeter' and checking in the daddy-daughter couples as they arrived. I was surprised that I knew some of the 'daughters' from school and the university. I tried to exude joy and welcoming vibes, and, as I was supposed to do, aimed people at the open bar. A piano player was entertaining in that club area before the band would start during dinner. Soon, there were over a fifty couples signed in, with a few more still scheduled to arrive. The place was a happy buzz of activity.
