Dana Lee Pruitt finished pulling her long, silky, blonde hair off of her face and tied it in a high ponytail near the top of her head. She was dressed in a pale blue bikini top that matched her eyes. It did a better job of revealing her firm, champagne glass tits than it did of hiding them. She owned a matching thong to go with the top but currently wore a pair of skin tight, black, Lycra bicycle shorts instead of the thong.
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Paula Reardon, hot and bothered, placed the box into the open boot of her Honda hatchback. Most of the furniture was on its way, the rest tomorrow, and the house was half empty, and rather ghostly, now.
Tomorrow she'd be away from here. Away from the abrasive memories Brian the Bastard had left her. Set up and living with his French floozie, wasn't he?
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Linda Jones was in the grocery store picking up a few things when she saw her friend Lisa Miller and her son Tommy. Lisa was supposed to come over later in the afternoon with a few friends for bridge club. "Hi Linda," Lisa called out, waving at her in the produce aisle. "Tommy, you remember Mrs. Jones don't you? Be a good boy and say hello."
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"I was afraid you'd never speak to me again, Edie."
David ran a hand down my arm and a shiver followed behind, sending goosebumps popping across my skin.
"I don't know what possessed me to take a risk like that."
He looked at me carefully. I waited, heart beating hard. It seemed to take ages from the time he began to bend toward me until his lips touched mine. I thought, in that seemingly endless interval, I would faint from anticipation and disbelief.
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An English summer sun gleamed on the mast of the old Cutty Sark as it lay forlornly in the dry docks at Greenwich. As I stared at it I wondered at the fate of those that sailed in her and called her home. The sound of a ship moving up the Thames River drew my attention and I wandered off toward the railing along the high walls of the riverbank.
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"I'm not ready to go back yet, but it's not like there's anything I can do about it, so I might as well just go with it," I said, half-staring down at my own feet. It was the day before I would begin the long four of years of the hell that was high school, and although I was intrigued by the idea of new people, a new building, and hopefully better food, my excitement and enthusiasm ended there. I had despised being a freshman in junior high, and I was just about to endure another year of the lowly freshman life, this time in a slightly bigger building.
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Tim yawned hugely as he padded downstairs, an empty glass in his hand. He almost tripped over his feet at the bottom, and steadied himself with a muted curse. The morning was cool, the house enveloped in a pre-dawn glow. He walked into the kitchen, resting the glass in the sink.
Butterball, the fat ginger queen of his home, wrapped herself around his legs. He smiled, and felt the cat's purr against his leg. He bent to retrieve the cat food from under the sink.
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There really isn't all that much to tell but once in a while something will happen to change that.
Being a 59-year-old retired widower in a condominium full of widows, I am both well fed and well taken care of, sexually. (By the way, as you get older, there are a lot more single women than men and many of them are horny.)
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Guys are normally so predictable.
Flirt with them, joke with them, be interested in "their" sport, and all of a sudden a girl can have them groveling at her feet. Give them a glimpse of leg and they will actually slobber.
At least the majority of guys are that way.
Occasionally there are the mutants. They are hooked to a specific girl and won't tell you the time of day. They might be totally devoted to work. They might like guys. Whatever.
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Cassie Stevens was a stunning woman. She kept herself in amazing shape, particularly for a mother of two, and for someone her age. At over 40 years old, she was still able to turn heads, and she knew it. Her body was a testament to the many hours she put in at the gym and in her yoga classes. She was slim and toned, with an ass women half her age would kill for. Her breasts were not exactly enormous, but were a decent size, and lacked the sag many of her friends experienced, again thanks to her commitment to physical fitness.
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