I don't remember where the party was. I don't even remember who invited me, or who was throwing it. But I do remember Her -- Sally -- my first "older woman."
It was some sort of a hippieish party where most of us were on the younger side. I walked into the kitchen and right into Sally's Laugh. It struck me in the face, and then the rest of her stuck me as well.
She was this small faery-looking like creature with a gorgeous brunette mop of hair, going every which way in curls that a twenty-something might be trying to tame. She was talking to a couple of other people there, but quite frankly, the only one I really saw was Her.
She paused in the conversation, and then she looked in my direction.
She was extremely cute, and although some part of me knew she wasn't in her twenties but was older, she didn't feel older. She felt like she was seventeen, with the energy of a teenager (even though I found out she was forty-two).
I found myself in front of her, and told her my name. "Hi, I'm Sally," she said, with a giggle, and then bit her lower lip. God, was I ever taken.
"You wanna get out of here?" I asked her, hoping that all the signs were pointing to a 'Yes.'
She kind of swayed a little from side to side, as if she were trying to decide, even though I could see in her eyes there was really no hesitation. "Gee, I dunno. What did you have in mind?" she asked, as she giggled again.
After talking to her for another ten minutes, I found out that she was recently divorced. Her husband of twenty years had found another "more suitable" woman (one who didn't seem so young -- the reverse of what most guys leave their forty-something wives for).
I also found out that this elvish sprite of a woman had had two children (although when I first saw her body in the light of day, I almost couldn't tell that had been the case). She was on the short side, and also the slender side as well.
Her breasts were also not the tits of a mother of two either. She had nursed but had not 'overly expanded' in the size department, but that was just fine by me. Her two b-cup mounds with sharp pointy tips were more than enough to maintain my interest.
The look in her eyes was both enticing, as well as gorgeously playful. I was captivated and already falling in love. I wouldn't find out until much later, that that fact was why we as a "couple" (if we ever really were one) was going to be a rather short lived situation.
"Feeling her wild oats" as the saying goes. She had married young, had children and been a housewife, and then hit forty and like Merlin, started aging backwards.
"I want to have fun in my life," she told me. "I'm tired of being an adult. I raised my children, and now it's my time to have some fun."
We walked outside through the living room of people that I still was not seeing or hearing, and told her (pointing), "My car's over there. Can we sit and talk some more a little more private?"