"That will go quickly."
I looked away from the ornate vase, not knowing much about antiques, but figuring this was pretty old. The elderly woman came from behind the furniture, nodding at the vase. "People have been looking it over all morning. If you're interested, don't wait too long."
I smiled. I had seen the sales pitch before, but was more of a window shopper than actual collector. "Any idea how old it is?" I asked.
She shook her head and and her long grey hair shimmered in the light. It ran over the shoulders of her peasant top, the kind Hippies wore in the sixties, and I realized that was exactly the look she was going for, although not old enough to actually be a Hippie carry-over.
Her long fingers wrapped around my hand as I held the vase, and she tilted the vase upside down. "From the markings, it would appear to be 19th Century. But it's hard to get an exact date."
She smelled of roses, and her costume jewelry fit right into her persona, along with the bronze arrow on a chain which pointed straight down between her tits, which were clearly visible within the plunging cleavage.
The Estate Sale was crowded, but she didn't seem in any rush to end our chat, seeming to be flirting with me a bit, even though she was close to sixty and I was 38. The grey hair was in direct contrast to her long eyelashes, obviously fake and heavily covered in mascara. She even had a beaded headband and full-length skirt and sandals for affect.
People milled about and she pressed against me at one point, smiling politely. "Big crowd today! The wonderful weather makes all the difference," she said as she looked up at me, her breasts pressed into my arm. "Forgive my closeness."
I smiled. "As long as your husband doesn't get the wrong idea!"
"Husband? Oh, no, not in many years, Dear! I believe in openly sharing my affection, not hiding behind old-fashioned concepts!"
I felt heady and strangely aroused. Was she actually flirting with me to sell a lousy vase? I didn't know, but was enjoying her risque comments.
"Good way to live! I was too late for the Love Generation, but always felt a kindred spirit to the movement."
She grasped my arm as we walked among the furniture, speaking in soft tones. She fluttered her lashes at me as she spoke, being all of 5'4, and me being 6 foot. "Oh, it was a wonderful time, no repercussions, no judgements. If you met someone who intrigued you, you simply gave them a slow wink," (She paused, turned to me and winked very slowly) "Like this!"
She started walking again. "And if he was interested, he would whisper something appropriate..."
She paused again, looking at mewith a smile. I bent to her ear, and said, "Like this?"
She gave me a broad smile as she began moving again, this time with a purpose. In the kitchen was a staircase. She glanced around, her face red with anticipation, then ducked inside, taking my hand as she went.
"Shh!" she whispered as she led the way down, into a cluttered basement area, and led the way under the main house, to a door. She slid inside, turning on the overhead light, and the room was comfortable, with two chairs and a bed.
"Isn't this just so sweet?"
