Sandra and I had worked together for a year or more. She was cute, smart, and quick witted. I was particularly taken with her smile, savoring every opportunity to have it directed at me.
One morning, she arrived at work appearing subdued and withdrawn. When I asked why, she took me into an empty office, closed the door, and turned to me. "I've broken up with Jeremy. He always seemed to have more important things to do than spend time with me. He couldn't seem to remember my birthday, or our anniversary, and he never did the little things that make a girl's heart skip a beat, like text me that he missed me, or call to make sure I got home safely from work. Other than the sex, there was nothing there. I don't need to put myself in a position of expecting certain things, and not getting them, simply to have sex. I ended it."
"Sandra, I'm so sorry. You're a great woman, and you certainly deserve a guy who will appreciate you. I wish there was something I could do."
"Bob, thank you. You are one of the good guys. You always look me in the eyes, I never feel like you are checking me out, you respect my mind and value my opinion: all that means a lot to me." Pausing, she took my hand. "Thank you for listening. There's nothing you can do, but I appreciate you being a friend, and not sniffing around like you were trying to get me into a compromising situation. Thanks. That tells me a lot about you." With that, we parted to start our day.
Of course, I had been checking her out. She was nearly 20 years younger than me, short, slim and pretty. The scrubs we wore did not display her figure to best advantage, but her modest tits were noticeable, as was her nicely curved, firm bottom. She wore her shoulder length light brown hair pulled back, and held off her neck. When she smiled or laughed, her eyes sparkled. With our age difference (and my general rule to not fish in the company pond), my first take was that she was a woman I might admire from a distance, but that there would be no be no hanky-panky there.
Since I'm an older guy, I tried very hard to avoid obviously leering at her, but that certainly did not mean that occasional views were not etched into my memory. Occasionally, she would stoop to retrieve some reference book from her backpack, and I would be tantalized by a sliver of lightly tanned flesh as her top rode up. Other times, as she walked into a patient's room, I'd admire how her pants seemed tailored to the curves of her derriere. I studiously attempted to avoid obviously staring, but I certainly never knew if I was sufficiently discrete.
Our workday came to a conclusion. As one of our number was leaving to attend graduate school, a group of us gathered at a local bar to wish her well. I found myself seated next to Sandra, and, as the group of us nearly overwhelmed the large booth selected, we were seated hip-to-hip, much to my pleasure.
I savored the firm youthful thigh pressed against my own. From this angle, I could not admire her bosom without being obvious, so I visited with the other folks from work, glancing around the table as we chatted. Occasionally, my eyes would meet Sandra's. She favored me with a shy smile, and held my gaze. I wondered if she had "checked me out" herself, and if so, what she had thought of me.
I'm north of forty (by a considerable margin!), and so my back stiffens up from time to time. (decades of Nursing in ER will do that to you, I suppose). Crowded into the booth, my back started to tighten up, and I leaned back to stretch. Spreading my arms wide, I was behind my seatmates, including Sandra, as they leaned forward into their conversations. She noticed my movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned to me.
"Aren't you a bit old to rely on that particular trick?", she asked, a smile upon her face.
"What trick?" I asked, puzzled.
"That old high school trick, where the boy pretends to stretch, so he can wrap his arm around the girl," she responded. As she spoke, she grasped my right hand, and drew it down, and around her own shoulder. She burrowed in closer, and held her head against my cheek, her shorter torso nestling against my own.
"You mean the one that is a prelude to hugging her close, and rubbing her shoulder, and trying to steal a kiss, hoping it might lead to something more?", I whispered into her ear.
She purred an answer. "Yep, and with a silly high school girl, who wasn't really sure what she wanted or how far she was willing to go, you might wind up getting teased with attractions you were not going to get to enjoy!"
I pondered that for a moment. "So that is why I stopped dating school girls, and became attracted to women! Thanks for clearing that little mystery up for me!" A bit louder, for our listeners, I noted, "Thanks for helping me stretch the crick out of my back. Couldn't have done it without you!"
She leaned slightly away, and replied, "Glad to help. Cozy as this is, I really had to move so you could stretch. All better now?"
I was starting to get erect, both from her closeness, her insinuations, and her scent. I have always enjoyed the scent of a willing woman, Sandra was no exception. I replied, under my breath, "Most of me is. Some of me is getting kind of knotted up now."
Softly, she promised, "Let's see what we can do about that in a little while."
I disengaged my hand from her shoulder, and returned to the group. I dropped one hand into my lap, and slid it over into her lap. I squeezed her knee, and murmured, "That sounds promising. Let's talk about it later."
I withdrew my hand, hers followed, and she traced a line up my thigh, nearly to my hardening cock, and whispered, "Indeed. We will talk later." She withdrew her hand, and turned again to the conversation our workmates were having.
Soon, it began to be time for me to get home, and begin thinking about dinner. I began to stir, and say my farewells, when Sandra spoke up.
"I've had a bit to drink. Bob, would you drop me off at home, please? I'm not far out of your way."
"Sure, glad to. You ready to go?"
"Yep, let me stop at the bathroom, and we're off!"
I waited inside the door to the bar, and admired her as she walked toward me. Her hair swung becomingly as she walked, her breasts now moving beneath her top. We stepped outside as I held the door for her, and she took my hand.
"Ready?", she asked.
"For a walk along the river, as a start. It seems that I haven't had as much to drink, as I had thought."
"With a pretty young woman? You betcha! Let's go!"
We parked at the boat ramp the city maintains, and set off into the park adjacent. The sun was beginning to set this summer evening, and the air was cool and energizing with a light breeze. We padded along the pathway, holding hands and listening to the sounds of the evening. We came to a grassy clearing in the twilight, and she tugged me along to the edge of the trees beyond it. Settling onto her heels, she drew me down onto the grass beside her.
"Bob, I have a question for you. Will you answer me honestly?"
"I'll be honest, or not answer at all."
"OK. Do you like me?"
"Do you find me attractive?"
"What do you mean? Of course you're attractive. You're pretty, smart, lively, and generally everything a guy could want in a woman."
"Am I fuckable?"
"What does that mean?"
"Would you fuck me?"
"Here? Now?" (I'll admit, sometimes I'm not as quick on the uptake as I might like to think. This was one of those times.)
"No, silly! When I have romance in the outdoors, it needs to be more isolated than a city park. I mean, if we were alone somewhere private, and you had the opportunity, would you fuck me?"
"Really? Are you serious? I cannot think any guy would turn down the opportunity to make time with you!"
"I don't mean 'make time', I mean fuck. Surely you have fucked a girl before, right?"
"Uh, yeah. I guess I have."
"So, are you one of those guys who wouldn't pass up an opportunity to fuck me?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess I am. Why are you asking me this? A hot girl like you can't possibly have any trouble finding a lover, can you?"
"I'm not looking for a lover. I'm looking for a buddy to scratch my itch. You know about Jeremy, I think I'm over dating for a while. I think I want to try something without the entanglements. You are a nice guy, you are a grown up, and I like you. Wanna scratch my itch?"
This required only a moment of thought. "Yep. What particularly do you have in mind?"
"Let's go home. I have something at my apartment I want to show you."
Remember that slow thing? Yep, I got slow again. "Huh? What do you want to show me at your apartment?"
With that, she rose to her feet, and, taking my hand, drew me to my feet beside her. She pressed that hand against her braless breast. I slid my hand down, and returned beneath her top, tantalizing the prominent nipple standing erect. She sighed, and murmured, "I knew you would know how to handle a woman." Laying her hand over mine, she pressed my grasp more solidly into her breast. She sighed, again I explored her nipple. A couple of seconds passed, and she turned to me, standing close, her face in my shoulder.
"Let's go. That thing I want to show you, it's getting hot, and I don't want it to boil over prematurely."
I inhaled her hair's scent. "If you think that's best."
She drew back, and met my gaze. "Oh, yes, I really do think that is best. Now. Now is good."
.... There is more of this story ...