Special thanks to Phil Gorman 2015 for his expertise in editing and proofing.
Early in life, I realized that I enjoyed watching younger girls. I have never acted on my attraction; still, I continually find ways to be in the areas where they tend to congregate. In the summer, I spend a lot of my time at the beach admiring the beauties in their skimpy bathing suits coming in and out of the water. Their young breasts topped with pencil-sized nipples always get my attention. I always wonder what it would be like to taste them. When they come out of the cool water, their nipples are molded to the bra material. None of them seems self-conscience displaying their young charms. I get to see many nipples in a day.
Another area I often frequent is the swimming pool in the park near my home. It has a wading pool for the young ones. I enjoy watching the young mothers. Many are in short shorts and tube tops. The young children sometimes get carried away splashing their mom's and, when some of the material is wet, it exposes everything. Many of those moms are very attractive, well-endowed young ladies. Some are really too immature to be moms. I can never understand the mentality of the guys that get them pregnant. They have to be brain dead. The fact that the girls allow the guys to love them sexually should be payment enough for the guys to have the foresight to protect the girls against unwanted pregnancies. Watching those young moms, I wonder if they will overcome their situations and really enjoy life. Many appear to be in their mid-teens. I don't see too many wedding bands.
There is some grass just at the edge of the park, but sorry no bunnies!!
I am Don Parson, age fifty-one and a widower for the last fourteen years. Cancer took my wife. I have no relatives in the area. I am in the computer industry and well paid for what I do. I don't want for anything. I wish it had been that way when I was first married. My wife and I struggled to pay our bills but we had a good life. I live in the house we bought so many years ago.
The beaches and pools close soon after September, thus limiting my sources of girl watching pleasure. Television is a very poor substitute, but it did direct me to a source. After dinner one night, I am doing my usual thing of flipping channels and getting frustrated. With my satellite and cable, I have hundreds of channels; hundreds of channels of unwatchable trash. I stop at a channel showing a region competition for figure skating. A young girl is skating, showing grace and beauty. I watch the complete program being impressed with the talent of the young skaters. Their ages are from preteens to older teens. All are very attractive in their costumes. Like the pools in the summer, the local arenas must be a heaven for a number of young female figure skaters.
The next day at work, a conversation by a co-worker gets my interest. It is Mary Tyler.
"We are having trouble getting volunteers and may have to cancel the program. The club can't afford to pay people."
Ross Green responds.
"You would think more people would become involved, considering that you have a number of young skaters with a lot of potential. I read the write up in the newspaper yesterday."
"We have until Friday to come up with the volunteers for the program or the hopes of many of the young skaters could be crushed."
That night I go the recycling bin, retrieve the newspapers, and search for the article. I find the item that Ross Green was referring too. It seems that a national figure skating judge was in the audience at some of the recent practices and rated the skaters he had seen. In the opinion of the judge, five young girls and two young boys showed talent that could place them in competition for a place in the next Olympics. With the current Olympics starting shortly, this comment gets a lot of play in the local media. There is also an interview with the local club president asking the public to please volunteer to keep the club going. They have funds for ice time and coaches, but they need volunteers for the Joe jobs. That is what Mary Tyler must have been referring too. It listed the practice times for this week. Tonight, the young skaters are on from 6:30 to 9:00. Since I have nothing better to do, I decide to watch.
The parking lot is nearly empty. The main group of cars is near the entrance and the balance of the lot is vacant. It appears that not too many people are interested in the girls and boys practicing. When I enter the actual skating area, I observe parents huddled over their children getting them ready to go to the ice. Off to one side, in the corner, I notice a young girl by herself lacing her skates. I take a seat and watch. Soon the surface has a number of young skaters. I assume they are warming up. My knowledge of figure skating is actually naught. I concentrate on the young girls. The majority of the young ladies have their hair in ponytails, something I love seeing on woman and girls. Some are in elaborate outfits, others just in slacks and jackets. It is easy to see the skaters from affluent families. Then I hear a whistle sound. The young skaters rally around the coach and listen, and then they break up and mark out private areas for each to skate with pylons. The young girl that tied her own skates is in front of me. Others are skating in their own area's surrounding the rink boards. I watch as the coach moves from skater to skater giving instructions. I observe with interest as she instructs the young girl that caught my interest. The girl seems to flow on the ice with maturity and grace. Even I can see the difference with my total lack of knowledge of figure skating. Then the whistle blows and this group leaves the ice and another group replaces them. I never notice that the number of people in the stands has actually doubled. I am so wrapped up on watching the young ladies on the ice.
As they leave the ice, many of the girls are welcomed by parents or friends and a given blade protectors for their trip home. The young girl I had watched is in front of me removing her skates and putting on her shoes. I look at the new crop of skaters doing their stuff. When I glance down, I find that the young girl is gone. I stay until the last group of skaters has finished their practice. On my way out, I stop in the lobby for a cup of coffee. Walking around, I read all the notices about up-coming competitions for figure skating and games for the local hockey club. I see a placard, requesting volunteers for the figure skating club, no experience necessary. It has a number with Mary Tyler's name. I will talk to her tomorrow at work.
The day starts off wrong. The firm gets a call from one of our clients. Their main frame just froze and they think it could be a virus. I get the call to do a field investigation. As soon as I view the system, I know that their suspicions are true. All I have to do is find out which one of the thousands of viruses is the culprit and then remove it. It takes me the better part of the day to locate the culprit and clean the computer, by four o'clock the system is on line. The CEO actually shook my hand and thanked me for a job well done. He tells me if he can ever help me out to call on him. I thought that odd but, when I return to the office, I find out that his firm was in the middle of their biggest profitable contract and if they hadn't completed it on time they would have lost it: their prestige and the profit.
Mary Tyler is nowhere in sight. She left early. When I drive by the arena, the outside billboard indicates that there is hockey practice and a game tonight.
The next day I do find Mary and ask her if I can speak to her on our lunch break. She agrees to meet me. Mary and I have been co-workers for nearly four years. She is a virus specialist as well. We have never been close friends, seeing each other only occasionally, because usually one or the other is the field. This last week has been an exception.
"Don, what can I do for you?"
"I am not sure, but it may be that I can help you. You are looking for volunteers for your figure skating club, right?"
"Yes, we are. If we can't get the help, I am afraid the club may fold and it would be a great shame. We have a number of skaters with a lot of promise. We have been told we have Olympic potential. Are you interested in volunteering?"
"Can you tell me if I would be any use to you? I don't know a thing about figure skating."
"Don, there are many jobs you could do. They won't seem like much, but we need them to be done. We could really use you."
"When is your next practice?"
"Tonight. I can give you a schedule tonight. What we need is a person to help skaters get ready for the ice. Many have their parents help but sometimes they aren't able to come. That is where you come into the picture."
"Is there any special way to tie skates?"
"No, as a rule, you just continue lacing them, as they are on the rest of the skate, and then tighten them, making sure they are comfortable for the skater."
"I think I have the mental capabilities to handle that. Is there anything else?"
"There will be a lot more but let's get your feet wet first. See you tonight."
The balance of the day was uneventful. After a quick bite to eat, I drive to the arena. I recognize many of the parents and their children from the last time I was here. Mary spots me coming in and comes towards me waving a sheaf of papers.
"Don, here is the current schedule, till our next competition. You will get a new one after that. It will be in six weeks at Moorestown. We need chaperones."
She is looking right at me with that comment. I think she is hinting I should volunteer.
.... There is more of this story ...