Passionfruit

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Amateur

I live in a college town, a small college town at that. Not a college slapped in the middle of a large metropolitan city, but a college town where nearly half of the population is undergraduate college students.

For a single woman of a certain age, dating prospects are brutal at best. Not to mention, if he is available, he’s divorced, mid 40’s+, with grownish children.

I’m not saying there is anything wrong with those circumstances, but it’s been my experience that it adds an extra layer of complication, when relationships can already be a lot of work without those circumstances.

And I am none of those, while I can say, I’ve had a couple of long term serious relationships, up through my 30’s, I have not committed the rest of my life to anyone as of yet, and I have no children of my own either.

Without those common experiences of divorce, and children, sometimes there can be a disconnect among the men I’ve dated who do have those circumstances in their past.

I’m noticing that dating at this age is becoming somewhat “complicated,” with ex wives, baby mama’s, co-parenting, pseudo step-parenting, and the list of labels and life circumstances goes on and on.

Can a girl just meet someone who does not have the ex-wife factor or baby mama drama?

Up until recently, my eyes were only set on men my own age. But in light of scenarios described, it’s got me expanding my lense of possible dating prospects. And while I can say, I’ve never dated a younger man,or been with a younger man, I must say, the idea has been crossing my mind lately.

Especially reading through online personals, plenty of eager young men looking for the older woman. 😉 Certainly I know what they’re looking for, and it’s peeked my interest.

I’ve actually responded to a few of them, just to see where conversation would lead. Some entertaining chats, but no one truly sparking my curiosity and interest enough to meet for a drink.

Its Friday afternoon, I’ve had a long week at work, and all I can think about is a glass of wine a beautiful salad for dinner and a nice long soak in the tub…I’m ready for my weekend.

Finally, 5pm approaches, I’m wrapping up my week, send my last email. Prepare my calendar for next week, turn off my computer, grab my purse and coat, and leave the office. My eyes set on a tall glass of wine.

First things first though. I need to stop off at the store to pick up a few things, then home.

Walking through the supermarket filling my basket with whatever looks good, of course the store is packed crowded, it’s Friday at 5pm. Everyone is rushing to get home after a work week and I’m one of them.. I just want to get home and relax.

I run through the produce section to pick up my salad greens and some fruit. Picking over peaches, it’s end of the summer, they’re perfectly ripe and in season, I’m in HEAVEN.

Touching and feeling them over,

Rounding each one with my fingertips,

Squeezing ever so gently to check their firmness…not too firm…not too soft,

Hopefully sweet and perfectly ripe, the kind that bursts juice when you bite into them and drips down your hands and fingers. Perfectly plump…there’s nothing better than juicy succulent ripe peaches.

Do I dare try to make pancakes with peaches this weekend? I decide on a couple that are just right. But keep feeling them over, putting them up to my nose, smelling them checking for bruises, soft spots, handling with much care… very selective and daydreaming in my own little world.

I suddenly hear a voice in front of me,

“You look like you’re really into that.”

I realized in that moment, that maybe I’ve lingered a little too long, seemingly in blissful reverie, over picking out my perfect peaches, a little embarrassed, some one’s called me out. Shit! I quickly grab the two I’ve been fondling and place them in my basket.

I looked up to see a young store employee standing on the other side of the bin of peaches, smiling at me. Fuck he’s good looking!

I can feel my face flush red with embarrassment. Thinking to myself, mortified, OH GOD, if he’s been standing there this whole time, watching, he must be thinking this girl’s desperate! No one spends that much time, feelin’ on some peaches. To labor over feeling and sorting peaches. Like, this woman has nothing better to do on Friday night than spend this much time feeling on peaches! I’m so embarrassed. Did I talk to them too? It’s totally possible, I say things outloud to myself all the time! And I was totally spacing out. UH. Shame.

As big as he was smiling with amusement at me, you would think he had heard the entire inner dialogue I was having over picking the right ones. Completely embarrassed.

Quick say something…

Anything.

Anything, Corrina!

I sheepishly opened my mouth, looking down at the ground from side to side.

And asked, “Did I say something outloud?”

He laughed a little bit and smirking said, “Yea…So are you going to make pancakes?”

OH GOD! I could have melted into a giant puddle of disappear! I know I istanbul escort was thinking about pancakes, but I didn’t realize I said it outloud! I’m so embarrassed.

Joking, I said to him, “You probably think I live alone and have 10 cats, too, huh?” rolling my eyes.

He said, “No. I was thinking pancakes sounded kinda good.”

I nervously laughed with relief… I was free falling with embarrassment and he caught me.

Smiling at each other, in silence.

Amused and delighted, he’s flirting with me.

I looked him over… scanning his body… my eyes tracing his body, still kind of picking over fruit, he’s doing his job, sorting over produce, on the other side of the bin.

He made the first move, and brave it was. I’m not entirely the most approachable girl. At least so I’ve been told. Head-strong, independent, strong-willed, sharp, confident, career driven. These are the qualities that I’ve discovered over the years turn men off, or are deemed intimidating and unapproachable. And actually, I don’t mind that I’m perceived that way, because it seems to weed out the flippant prospect.

Not this guy, though.

He went for it.

And I was impressed.

Really impressed.

Still kind of watching him out of the corner of my eye, watching his body. How he moves. He has a nice body. He’s barely taller than me. 5’8″ maybe 5’9″ we are the same height. I’m practically looking into his eyes when we speak.

Short dark hair, glasses, nerdy uniform tucked in, name tag, light mocha skin, incredibly clean cut. Sharp and distinct. Beautiful.

He glances up, and smiles again.

He looks super young though. Up until recently, I disqualified all would be dating prospects who weren’t somewhat near my age, mid/late 30’s.

I decided to hit the ball back over the fence at him.

I asked, “You look like you go to college.”

He said, “Yea… my second year, I’m in Architectural Engineering.”

I said, “So that makes you, 20?”

“19,” he replied, smiling.

I smiled and shook my head, let out a laugh, half scoff, half shock. Jesus. Nineteen.

He smiled, too.

He looked at me for a moment, then said

“You look like you’re just getting off work…” “What do you do?”

I told him I worked in sales, and that my boss was a jerk. We both laughed. I said I was ready for the weekend and looking forward to a glass of wine when I got home and a hot bath.

He said, ” That sounds like a relaxing night, I’m sure you deserve it.”

I said, “Thanks.”

He said, “You’re missing something though…”

Puzzled, I said, “Oh?” “What’s that?”

He said, “You’re missing, a foot massage.”

OH FUCK. Did he really just say that, I bit the inside of my lower lip. Expression on my face slightly changing to surprise, irritation and frustration, furrowing my brow slightly confused at the idea.

Partly frustration because do you know how long its been since a man has offered to give me a foot massage? How about NEVER! Foot massage? Are you serious? Foot massage?! That’s like going straight for the throat. Foot massage?! Don’t be playing with me, I mean I would rather you tell me you’re not going to call me back in the morning, I would expect that from a nineteen year old, but a foot massage? What are you after and don’t be playing with a foot massage.

You’re too young to be talking about a foot massage!!

I just stared at him half pissed, half annoyed, mostly annoyed. He just kept working, silently doing his job, smiling, teasing, glancing back up at me from moment to moment. No words for a few minutes.

Still replaying foot massage in my head, in disbelief.

He could tell I was thinking really hard.

Puzzled, questioning…

To that, he added, “I used to give my mom foot massages when she’d have a long day at work.”

What the FUCK, who is this guy? Mama’s sweet angel baby boy, lay it on even more?!!

Are you serious right now?

Mama’s little angel baby boy standing in front of me. Jesus Christ. Shaking my head.

Okay, the gloves are coming off.

He’s not playing.

So, mama’s angel baby boy wants to give me a foot massage. He could still tell I was in deep comprehension, but coming to my senses about it. To put me out of my perplexed misery, the smile fades away from his face, he drops what he’s doing and he says to me very matter of factly,

“Okay.”

Steps toward me from around the other side of the bin, steps very close to me, to look me in the eyes. Directly looking at me and standing so close that I could smell his body heat.

Smiled wiped away from his face now. Dead serious.

I was a little taken aback. I wasn’t expecting him to appear right in front of my face. Looking directly at me. Then glancing down at my hand, he grabs my wrist gently and pulls it up between us, and places a piece of paper in my hand.

“Here’s my number,” He said, “If you change your mind when you get home, and decide you want a foot massage, call me.”

My avcılar escort jaw slightly open, in shock, at the boldness of his gesture, and what he was offering. I blinked a couple of times and shook my head to snap out of it.

And looked at the piece of paper in my hand, with his name and phone number on it,

Shannon.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Corrina.”

He said, “That’s a pretty dress, Corrina.”

A slight lip curl of polite out of one corner of my mouth, still in shock, and not able to muster up a full fake smile, at the confidence and the way he handled everything and the way he approached me. A thirty-seven year old woman who practically has fuck off tattooed on her forehead. He put his money where his mouth is, he meant what he said, he wasn’t playing at all.

Dead serious.

Foot massage.

And to that, I shut my mouth, took a few stumbling weary steps back, as if smelling his body heat and being that close to him was intoxicating. You could feel the chemistry.

My breath picked up… chest rising and falling.

I let out a sigh.

He let me stumble a few more feet away from him in contemplation and perturbation.

He could tell I was thinking very hard about it.

He smiled again at my contemplation and sort of laughed at the amusement. He walked closer to me one last time, leaned in and whispered in my ear, so I could feel his breath and vibration of his voice in my ear and on my neck.

“Don’t think about it too hard, Corrina” Lingering there for a moment, so I could feel his breath on my neck.

He pulled away, smiled, and walked back over to the bins and got back to work.

What a TEASE!!

I couldn’t believe what I just saw, what I just witnessed.

Trying to not act too thrown off. I did whip up the fake, unconvincing smile and said,

“Okay… byeee!”

Quickly shuffled myself to the check out and got myself out of there. Turning around one last time, catching his eye, and walked out.

Still wide eyed in disbelief walking to my car. Groceries in the back seat, I sit in the driver’s seat of my car in the parking lot for a few minutes, engine not running, just sitting there.

Yea that just happened, Corrina.

Speechless.

And then a grin came over my face. Smirking in delight.

Sitting there for a few more moments. Shifting my hips slightly in the seat of my car.

Rocking back and forth.

Thinking about what he could do to me, daydreaming…curling my toes. Breath getting heavy.

Breathing in. out.

He feels good just thinking about him.

Really good.

Mama likes.

I sit for a few more moments. Basking in my fantasy, I let out a sigh, shaking it off.

I better get going… I start the ignition and get out of there.

Pulling into my garage, I can hear my little baby barking inside.

Mama’s home.

Uh. I can’t wait to take off work pumps and this dress. Wine, is calling my name! Snuggles with my fur baby, a book. Salad. Quiet night, sounds amazing to me right now.

Sigh.

Decompress after a long week.

Coming home, have a massively happy yorkie jumping at my ankles, happy to see mama, I pick her up, a few cuddles and fur baby kisses, set her back down and take myself to the kitchen, pour a glass of wine. And take myself and my wine upstairs, to draw a bath to soak for a few.

Candles, hot bath, Decompress. Deep breath, and relax. Oh heavenly amazing bath. feels so good. Hair up, candles, hot steam. Uh. Thank you.

Slipping in the water, toes and feet, ankles, the water feels amazing. Soaking. Sigh. Finally. My weekend. My time, me time. The water feels amazing. Breathing. In and out. In. And out. My lil baby laying on the bathmat beside me.

Looking over at her, “Girls night?” I said out loud. She perks her head up off the floor, and stares at me. “Girls night, honey?” I said it again. She puts her head back on the floor, unamused at my idea.

Sinking down into the tub, my thoughts drift…

Shannon.

I let out a scoff.

Followed by a smile.

Shaking my head.

My toes peak up out of the bath water.

“Foot massage.” I said out loud to myself.

Wiggling my toes under the water.

Smiling.

Do I dare call him? My inner dialogue.

Shaking my head. Thinking about his confidence.

“FOOT MASSAGE!” I shouted out loud and slapped the water.

That boy’s got nerve.

“He’s nineteen, Corrina” I said it out loud to myself.

“19.”

Sigh. I’m a grown woman.

Wiggling my toes again under the water. Biting my lower lip. Debating… contemplating…

Okay. I’m calling him.

Drying off. Putting on my robe. Let my hair down. Slipping into a lace bodysuit, nude pink coral. Deep V-halter neck to the waist. High cut on the hip. Dab of perfume on my wrists. Soft flowery scented body lotion. Glistening legs glistening skin.

Candles setting out. I look around my bedroom.

Inhale, Exhale. I approve.

Sipping on my wine, reached for şirinevler escort my cell phone, took his number from my purse, and started texting.

“Shannon?”

Send,

He hit me back right away.

“Corrina”

“;)”

S: “How’s your night going?”

C: “I can’t complain, the bath was amazing. ;)”

S: “Oh yea? Wine?”

C: “Oh, YES! ;)”

S: “Well. Could it be better?”

C: “Yess”

S: “Mama wants her foot massage, huh?”

C: “Yess”

S: “Okay.” “I’m coming over” “What’s your address?”

C: “346 La Joya”

S: “I’ll be there in an hour.”

C: “Okay, C U when you get here, door is open”

I glance at the time on my cell phone, 9:49PM.

“Okay.” “I’ve got one hour.” I say out loud, with a smirk. Twirled around, and went downstairs to the kitchen to refill my wine, and grabbed nail polish from the vanity. Fresh polish on my toes. Nude pink. Wiggling my toes with approval. Candle in the living room. Check the mirror, one more time. Strong athletic toned legs. I’ve been keeping up with my workouts, legs are looking really nice. Wavey sandy dark blonde hair. Sunkissed skin. Dab of mascara, lip gloss.

I feel good.

I feel sexy.

I’m putting on denim though. No way I’m answering the door in just a bodysuit!

Denim. Lacey bodysuit. Satin kimono robe over.

I’m good.

Music on.

Turn on the fireplace.

I hear a car pull up.

It’s loud.

I walk downstairs to let him in. I look out the back door. He has a nice car…a really nice car… an older mustang.

He revs the engine.

I started laughing.

He shuts off the car and gets out. Walks toward me, slowly.

Standing in the doorway, Head tilted to the side, hand on my hip, sassing him,

“Nice car.”

He said, “Thanks,…” with a smile. “…Before you… that was the only woman in my life.”

I rolled my eyes and smiled.

He comes closer toward me and slows his walk as he nears and looks me up and down. Runs his fingers along the collar of my robe, pulls it back and runs his fingertips along the waist of my jeans and tracing the lace edge of my bodysuit, down toward my waist.

My eyes following his fingers. Reaches down to take my hand. Looks me in the eyes,

“WOW.”

Takes my hand and pulls himself closer to me, breathing my at my neck.

Pulls me closer to him and runs his juicy lips along my neck lightly touching and behind my ear lobe, rounding down the side of my neck again.

Grabs my other hand and grips them both firmly. Pulled in close to him, just his face next to my neck.

Breathing.

I can feel his body heat on my neck. Studying each other, with no words. Judging each other by scent, lightly touching lips.

He feels good.

He knows what he’s doing.

A sigh of relief. I can relax a little bit.

He pulls back and looks at me as if I said that out loud. Questioning myself internally did I say that out loud? Looking at him, smiling, questioning.

He said, “What?” smiling.

I said, “I didn’t say anything.”

“I know, but you THOUGHT something.” He replied.

Smiling, relieved that I did not reveal my cards by saying that outloud.

“Yea, I was.”

He pats me low, on the outside of my hip, on the full of my thigh, gently with care.

He knows what he’s doing.

We just look at each other.

Expressionless. Staring intently and taking in.

I’m relieved, I inhaled big, and let it out.

He said, “C’mon.” pats me again on the hip. “I wanna see your place,” and walks behind me.

I turned around in the doorway watching him walk down the hallway, in disbelief, he knows what he’s doing. I can relax. He’s Nineteen and he knows what the fuck he’s doing.

I can relax…Daddy’s here.

He turns around with some distance in the hall, big smile, teasing me, as if to shake off my daydream.

“C’mon!” Teasing me. “I wanna see your place!”

“OKAYYY!!” I sassed. “Take off your shoes!”

I lead upstairs, living room, fireplace. Candles. I have to admit. It feels good in here. It’s perfect. I feel safe and comfortable around him. He looks around, I can see his silent approval.

“It’s nice.” he said.

“Thank you.” I replied.

He grabbed my hand, and lead me to the sofa. We sat down and my lil fur baby appeared from around the corner.

I was nervous for some reason. I’m usually cool and composed, but not tonight. For some reason, I’ve got butterflies.

My lil baby was a good ice breaker though, I was secretly thanking her for taking off the edge a little bit. We talk small talk for a bit, his classes, my work, etc.

I lit some incense and kind of an awkward silence for a moment.

And then, it wasn’t awkward. He leans in and kisses me, with his juicy lips.

Lips pressed to mine.

Soft.

Pouty. Juicy, caressing kisses.

Tasting each other.

Kissing.

Mouths.

Tongues. Licking tongues. Touching.

He feels so good.

He reaches down and touches my foot and brings it up to his lap and starts massaging my foot. Gently. Caressing, with much care. He has the right touch. I sunk into the sofa, let out a sigh, and wiggled my toes. Smiling at him. Yea. I’m taking advantage THIS!.

Placing my other foot on his lap and wiggling my toes, as if to say, don’t forget about this one. He just laughed and said, “OH! You expect things now huh?”

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

İlk yorum yapan olun

Bir yanıt bırakın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak.


*