I was all sweaty and grimy, having just finished a tennis match with my friend Wendy on a hot July morning. On the way to the tennis courts I had seen a garage sale sign and decided to check it out on the way home, hoping to find a bargain or two. By the time I got there, of course, almost everything had been sold. I was about to drive a way but an older woman with long gray hair pulled waved to me from inside her garage. She was dressed in what I could best describe as
retro-hippie
clothing—a long white dress and loose fitting white top with flowered embroidery. I was amused and intrigued by her so I got out and moseyed towards her.
As I got closer to the woman she became even more intriguing. She couldn't have been more than five feet tall and had to weigh less than one hundred pounds yet, despite her loose fitting clothing I could tell that she had at least C-cup boobs. Her skin was flawless—alabaster white with no wrinkles—and her blue eyes sparkled. In fact her eyes seem to get brighter as I got closer to her. When she was younger she had to have been incredibly beautiful because she was beautiful now.
"I always save the best stuff for last," she said. "Come inside out of the heat."
She introduced herself as Maggie, adding, "You know that Rod Stewart song
Maggie May
? He wrote that about me."
Like an idiot I got all wide-eyed and said, "Really?"
Maggie patted me on the head like I was a little girl and laughed. "No, dearie. Come on. I've got some stuff to show you."
The moment we stepped inside here house we were assaulted by a blast of cold air. My nipples became instantly hard, so hard they ached. I mean I could feel the areolae actually popping up on my tits. Maggie was similarly affected. Sure, gravity had taken its toll on her breasts but there was no doubt that her nipples had gotten very, very hard. There was also no doubt what color they were—bright pink. Her white top did little to hide that fact.
She led me to her bedroom and into her closet. "I have some great clothing from the sixties that are perfect for you. Don't worry—they're clean, almost like new. Ah, here's one that is perfect for you."
She pulled a sleeveless, dark green cotton blouse off a hanger and handed it to me. When I examined it I saw that it had no buttons but instead laced up the front. "I was always too big breasted for that," Maggie said. "With your boobs, though, it'll be a perfect fit. Try it on."
"You mean...
here
?"
"Sure."
"Well...okay." I pulled me tennis top over my head and then, a bit reluctantly, removed my sweaty athletic bra. Maggie's eyes seemed to light up as she studied my body, especially when my nipples became even harder than they had been.
"I love your tits," she said. "I bet men do, too—so dark and hard."