Sexy legs  

alchemistz9 56M
147 posts
6/4/2006 2:00 pm

Last Read:
7/4/2006 9:45 pm

Sexy legs

Red letter day!

Today, I got picked up...seriously.

There I am minding my own business when I notice a person (let's call them the Fine Young Thing) watching me. I pay no heed, but 15 minutes later, see the FYT again, and again shortly afterwards.

By now I'm in a coffee bar and the FYT sits down beside me and proceeds to take over the table with what I presume can only be FYT paraphernalia.

And ignores me completely while I take her in. Tall, slim, good looking, good body, all the curves in the right places, flat stomach, smooth skin, shining hair, straight white teeth and a smile to die for. And looks about 23/24.

I'm feeling every day of 46, and every inch of my not so flat stomach, and every one of my grey hairs, the number of which seem to double very week, feels like it's standing out in the thinning wood that once was my forest of thick brown hair.

Eventually, she looks at me and, indicating the mess she's left on the table, says; would you please mind this for me for a moment. Certainly, I reply and off she goes, and stays gone for ages, while I sit there nursing my now cold and empty coffee cup and feeling like a Wally with a tableful of "womens' stuff", even if she is an FYT

Eventually she comes back. Thanks. No problem, I reply and as she sits down, I get up to go. Wait, let me buy you a coffee. No. it's ok. No it's not, you must, please...please.

And so I sit down again, and 2 huge mugs of coffee appear and she begins to ask who I am and where I'm from. What I'm doing here and when I came. How long will I stay. Do I have any friends in this city? Do I know any of the nice places to go?

And anytime I turn the conversation towards her, she steers it back to me until I just relax and concentrate instead on watching her as she listens to me and asks her questions.

You can tell a lot about a person by the questions they ask and the way they pay attention. And there is something very beautiful and open in her eyes as I talk about some of the places I have been, and things I have done, and about my kids, and my own youth, the wild days in my twenties, Bob Marley concerts - you saw Bob Marley LIVE!!! Wow! - and I realise this girl isn't seeing me as I really am and that neither am I.

The conversation continues and the coffees are dead. But we're getting on so well now I'm starting to find out a little about her. She's 25 and in the final year of an MBA programme but has never worked and I'm contrasting that with the European practice of working for a number of years before taking an MBA, and she tells me about her 2 brothers and her sister, her mum and dad (who is 50 this year) and she looks to be so at ease and enjoying herself. And I'm enjoying myself, and feeling flattered by her presence and interest.

At last, just as I'm about to ask her out to dinner, she glances at her watch and says, oh gosh, I've got to go, I'm supposed to leave a message over to my aunt's house. And she smiles at me and looks into my eyes. But I'm free after that if you'd like to meet and maybe go for for dinner.

Yes....yes....I'd love to, I say. Great, I'll meet you at your hotel, what room are you in? And I tell her the room. It'll be about an hour she says. And off she goes, busy now chatting on her cell phone, and waves to me as she goes out the door, and blows me a kiss.

So back to my hotel to freshen up (total makeover - everything) and wait....and wait.... and hour can be an awful long time, especially when it's about an hour and all the dreadful thoughts taking over my head - she'll never come..I don't even know her full name...I don't have her cell number, nor she mine...I didn't tell her what hotel (forgetting that it was in the lobby I first noticed her watching me)....remembering how she knows the hotel...why would she seriously want to come back...why would she want to go out with me...maybe she's really a prostitute and works the hotel...and on and on and on...

One hour and 12 minutes later, the doorbell to my room rings. Now I never use the peephole, just have a thing about it, but this time I really want to. I have absolutely no desire to open that door expecting, hoping to see her and instead see the bored and tired face of the nighttime houseboy come to turn down the bed.

I open the door, and there she is, looking absolutely divine, smiling at me and as she steps into the room, she reaches up and pecks me on the cheek. Sorry I took so long.

alchemistz9 56M

6/5/2006 4:09 am

    Quoting escaltsntrldel:
    Wow great story. Thanks for sharing. Keep up the great work. I look forward to reading more of your erotica AUSSIESOME job!!!!
Hi escaltsntridel
Wow!!! I'm blown away by your comment.
Thank you.
Next instalment soon.

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