I'm a widower, my wife passed about two years ago after being hit by a drunk driver on her way home from work. We have two daughters who are twenty-five and twenty-two. I live on six acres about thirteen miles outside of town with my two Labrador retrievers. I was thinking about retiring from the utility I worked for after thirty years just before my wife was killed. I went ahead and did it which gave me a lot of time to dwell on my sorrows. We had plans for our golden years together so now I had to deal with being on my own. We had been an active couple, running, biking, hiking, traveling and generally enjoying each other and the world. With her passing, I focused on staying active to help me cope with the loss of my best friend.
So, there you have a little background information on me. Now I'd like to tell you a little story which happened to me this past year. My little tale all began innocently when I decided to take swim lessons for a mini triathlon which is called a "sprint". My workouts and running had slipped with my wife's passing so I decided since I'd done over thirty, half marathons and two marathons I would up my game a bit. I swim as cross training and as physical therapy to strengthen my hips. It just seemed a natural progression to move into triathlons. The pool I swim at offered a ten-week course. It started in February running to the race in mid-May. It was designed to help improve endurance swimming which is exactly what I needed. I signed up for it and not only did I improve my swimming, I got an added bonus.
The first night of the lessons which started at eight thirty I arrived about twenty minutes early. There were a group of four high school kids that were doing maintenance on the locker rooms and the pool area; two girls and two boys. I managed to get into my swimsuit while one of the boys was hosing down the floor on the men's locker room. I hurried to get out of his way and made it to the pool deck where one of the girls was measuring the chlorine in the pool.
I sat down at the opposite end of the bench from her and watched the water exercise class which was in progress. I made a mental note not to leave home so early next time so I wouldn't have to sit around waiting. The girl measuring the chlorine was dressed in a baggy gray sweatshirt which didn't hide the fact that she was amply endowed in the breast department. Her black swimsuit rode high on her hips making her muscular legs look longer than I think they actually were. I noticed some bruises on those lovely legs which contrasted sharply with her ivory skin tone. Her hair was a light sandy brown cut just off her shoulders, it seemed to float whenever she moved her head during the course of her task. I kept my glances short because I didn't want anyone thinking I was a pervert checking out the high school honey.
But, you know I had to look. She was right there and even at my advanced age of fifty-one I still liked to look. She kept fumbling with the small vial that's used to measure the chlorine content of the water. After a few moments of hearing her frustrating sighs, I asked what the problem was.
I happened to have maintained city fountains for ten of my thirty years which were required by the state to be as clean as a swimming pool so, I had an idea what she was attempting to do.
She looked over at me with some frustration exclaimed, "As soon as I put the chemicals in, the water turns pink then clear. I don't know what the problem is."
I just mentioned, "Your free chlorine level is over five."
Her look turned to one of astonishment that I would actually know the answer, "How do you know that?"
The look on her face was priceless. I explained to her what I had done as part of my job when I did work. She nodded her recognition then closed up the kit. She thanked me as she headed off to tell the pool manager. I watched her walk past me grinning as her toned legs carried her into the office. Just after that, our instructor came out to begin our first lesson.
The second week I was early again. At least this time the kid was done hosing down the locker room so I didn't have to rush as much. I took my place on the bench to watch the exercise class which consisted mainly of really old women. This time the girl who had been sampling the water was walking around scrubbing the deck along with one of the boys. She waved at me when she looked over. I politely returned her gesture, smiling as I enjoyed the view. She walked by just as the exercise class ended and I was getting ready to hop into the pool.
With a big grin she greeted me, "Thanks, you were right. There was too much free chlorine in the water. We had to adjust the thingy that doses it."
Smiling back at her, noticing her deep blue eyes, "You're welcome, glad I could help."
"Oh, my name is Renee. Thanks again," she beamed.
"I'm Jay, glad to have helped."
With that, she went on her way and I swam.
Despite my darnedest, I never arrived right on time for the class. I'd take my seat on the bench while patiently awaiting the exercise class to end. Each week it seemed Renee kept getting friendlier and friendlier. She'd say hi and talk for a bit about swimming along with whatever else was on her mind. I listened and made polite conversation.
The fifth week we repeated the bench scene but this time out of the blue she looked over at me, stretched out one leg after swinging it slightly towards me, "See my bruises?"
"Huh?" I looked around to be sure she was talking to me.
"Bruises, on my leg. I play rugby for the girl's high school team."
I looked at her leg wondering if I was being set up for something, "Those are some nice ones. Did you win?"
"Yes, we did," she beamed, sticking her rather large chest out.
Trying not to stare at her legs for too long because the way she had turned offered me a delightful view of her vagina pressed tight against the fabric of her swimsuit. I quickly looked away fearing a prolonged stare would result in an erection in my tight tri-shorts. Luckily the exercise class made a huge splash with one of their moves and my attention was diverted.
She closed her legs resuming her sampling duties.
I looked back over noticing she was focused on her work, "My girls didn't have rugby or lacrosse when they were in high school. They played on the state championship softball teams."
That got her attention back to me reigniting the conversation.
"They were in high school then? They must be like old now."
I laughed, "Well yes they are older than you. They are twenty-five and twenty-two. My oldest pitched and the younger played center field."
"I'll be eighteen next month. What are their names? I think I've seen the trophy's in the display case."
"Darlene and Cheryl Sessions." I proudly proclaimed.
Her face scrunched up a bit as she thought, "Okay, I've seen their names on the trophy, I think. I swim and play rugby. I was doing gymnastics until I had a 'growth spurt' as my mom calls it."
I deduced that her 'growth spurts' were covered by her sweatshirt. I kept silent not wanting to offend her or be accused of being a dirty old man if that was the current term for lusting after a younger woman. But I imagined they were pretty impressive on a soon to be eighteen year old.
She continued, "Have you ever watched rugby?"
