"Ooooou!" gushed the slender, yet still bosomy brunette, in a sexy, husky voice, "I should take you home with me right now, young man, for a very private little workout!"
The attractive, older woman, who had just spoken, was standing there in the middle of the gym's parking lot, staring right at me over the top of her chic sunglasses.
"Wow!" I thought to myself in amazement, "These cougars are getting more and more brazen every day!"
I was genuinely surprised that this mature woman had hit on me like that. In truth, I was getting a bit used to being hit on by older women. It had already happened to me, on several occasions, in some of the classier bars and clubs. But, this was outside, on a warm weekday evening in early May. The sun was still shining, for crying out loud!
"And, on top of that, she called me 'young man'?!" my thoughts continued, "Geez! I don't look that young!"
I hid my surprise, as best I could, and forced myself to smile back at the well-dressed woman. I said jokingly, "Oh, you're just teasing me!" as I continued walking towards my car. I had just finished my Wednesday evening workout and I was on my way home.
"Oh, no! I am definitely not teasing you, sweetie!" responded the woman, as she walked purposefully towards me, her high-heeled shoes clicking away on the pavement.
"Oh, really?!" I said, as I stopped and waited for her to walk up to me.
"Yes, really!" she said, standing there right in front of me. She pushed her sunglasses up to rest on the top of her head, then coolly reached out and placed her hands firmly on my chest and one of my biceps, "Oh, very nice! Very, very nice!" she continued, "You really do keep yourself in very good shape, dear!"
In truth, I am a fairly muscular guy. As I was wearing just a pair of workout shorts and a tee shirt, it was easy for her to see that I really do keep myself in very good shape. Not quite twenty-eight years old and clean-cut, I was well aware that I was prime, on the hoof, cougar prey.
As the woman stood there, brazenly feeling the muscles, I became aware of the subtle fragrance of her perfume. I didn't recognize it, but it certainly smelled expensive. She was wearing a simple gold necklace and matching gold-stud earrings, but they too, somehow, managed to look fairly expensive.
"Thanks!" I barely managed to mumble. By that time, I was truly stunned by the woman's boldness. I was used to flirting, a little bit, with some of the older women at the gym, but this sexy cougar was absolutely shameless.
"My name is Patricia, by the way," she said, matter-of-factly, "But, please call me Pat," as she offered me her hand.
Taking her offered hand, I just managed to answer, "It's nice to meet you, Pat." I continued, as I started to regain some of my composure, "My name is Thomas."
I studied Patricia's face, while we stood there. The woman had well defined cheekbones and a strong chin. She had the kind of face that was intelligent, strong, and beautiful, all at the same time. I suspected that with a different hairdo and makeup, Patricia would be absolutely "drop-dead" gorgeous. I'm an amateur artist, for what it's worth, so I tend to notice that sort of thing.
"I know," she answered playfully, "I've seen you around the gym, Tommy."
We had never actually spoken to each other, before that first time in the parking lot, but I had also noticed Patricia around the gym. She was usually dressed in some kind of a tight, eye-catching spandex outfit, the kind that is designed to show off a woman's slender, yet classic, hourglass figure. I remembered that Patricia's prominent breasts were particularly impressive, in those tight workout clothes of hers. I had also noticed that she usually hung out with a small group of other, similarly dressed, cougars.
That particular evening, Patricia was still wearing her business clothes. She was dressed in a tailored, navy-blue skirt suit, an ivory silk blouse, sheer-black hose, and three-inch, high-heeled pumps. I noticed that the color of her pumps perfectly matched the color of her skirt suit. It was obvious to me that Patricia spent a lot of time, and money, on her wardrobe and her overall appearance. With her short, crop-cut, chestnut-brown hair, perfect suntan, nail polish that matched her lip-gloss, minimally applied makeup, and tasteful jewelry, she looked every inch the successful, no-nonsense, businesswoman.
Even in her business clothes, however, with her pretty face, wide-apart, gray-blue eyes, and alluring figure, I thought that Patricia looked really cute, and really hot, for an older woman. Patricia was, obviously, a seasoned cougar on the prowl, and I was very tempted to do anything that she wanted, right then and there.
As I continued to study Patricia, I became even more appreciative of her sensuous figure. She would have stood about five-feet six-inches tall, in her stocking feet. In her three-inch, high-heeled pumps, she stood, almost, at eye level with me. Patricia had that pleasing combination of a mature woman's bosom on a slender woman's frame. As I carefully looked her over, I saw that she could easily pass for someone in her early to mid-thirties, but I was certain that she was older than that. Younger women just don't display the kind of worldliness that she projected. I also noted, to my delight, that Patricia probably wore a D-cup bra. That, along with her shapely ass and narrow waist, made her a very tempting predator, indeed!
"Geez!" I said with equal playfulness, after I had regained a little more of my composure, "I just took a shower! But, exactly what kind of a workout do you have in mind, Pat?"
"I have a very hot, very sweaty, very private workout in mind for you, sweetie," she said seductively, as she started to feel the muscles of my arm, again. After, licking her full lips, she continued with a big smile, "That is, if you think that you can handle another workout this evening, young man."
"Another workout this evening!" I repeated in my mind, "Wow! This woman is absolutely shameless!"
