A few years ago I had an encounter with a much younger girl that has somewhat become the inspiration for the stories I've been writing here. Most of what I write is a way of dealing with the persistent fantasies and enormous temptations I have where I exercise. I'm in my mid thirties, single, and still pretty fit, partially due to lucky genes, but I stay in shape by rowing. I keep my boat in the same boathouse where a high school rowing team operates, and when they practice there are about forty athletically built teenage girls walking about in nothing but spandex uniforms. As you can imagine, it's quite a sight.
I've been rowing there for several years now, and I've gotten to know all the regulars, including the coaches and a few of the parents of the kids, some of whom also row. And I'm a pretty affable guy, so I tend to get to know a handful of the kids as well by joking around with them. I try hard not to be a creepy guy who hangs around, but the eye candy is so hard to resist.
Most of the girls are pretty big and strong -- and generally as curvaceous as they are fit ¬-- but with every boat there's always one tiny little girl who steers. As attractive as the bigger girls are, and believe me they're very attractive, I have a fondness for petite women, so I frequently catch myself staring at the five-foot pixies in their cute little suits. One of these was a girl I'd actually gotten to know a little bit, a freckle-faced tomboy named Leslie.
Her family had been around for years. Her older brother had rowed for the high school before her, and her father had been a fixture at the boathouse the entire time. He and I were pretty well acquainted, but became even more so when the events leading up to this story started.
Because I knew both her father and her brother before her, it was easy for Leslie and I to become familiar with each other. I'd chat with her and her dad about this and that, and even give her some pointers on rowing. By the time she got to be a senior, she'd also started rowing in a single-person boat her father gave her. So when she flashed me her baby blues one day asking if she could try rowing my boat, which is far nicer than hers, I couldn't exactly say no. I'm big hearted enough that I would have said yes anyway, but in this case it would give me an excuse to hang out with her a bit more and give me time to check out the incredibly tight little butt she had under her snug uniform.
Unfortunately for me, karma had other plans for my mischievous hidden agenda, because when she brought the boat back in after her row there were three holes in it from where she ran into a submerged log rowing too close to shore. I was pretty pissed, but what was I supposed to do? I couldn't exactly yell at a seventeen year old when I knew she didn't have enough experience to begin with. And she was obviously upset by it, and more than apologetic. So I made a deal that she and her dad would have to help me fix it at their expense. In the end I got to know both of them a lot better, and things worked themselves out.
After that, Leslie and I developed a sort of friendship, to the point where she even invited me to here graduation party, but normally it was all I could do to keep from constantly staring at her whenever we talked. When she finally went off to college she'd grown into a striking young woman. Still petite and having the same electric bootie, but with well-developed cleavage and gorgeous curly brown hair. With her freckles and tomboy nature, she was just as cute as could be.
After she'd gone away, I only saw her a couple of times during her freshman year when she'd come home for visits, but the conversations between us opened up a little. There's a whole new body of knowledge a college kid will be able to talk about freely that they can't really do when in high school. So I was able to be more myself around her, which meant pushing the bounds of decency a little more. I wasn't really thinking of actually doing anything with her, but I tried to be a little flirty, wondering if I'd ever manage to slip into the conversation how righteous I thought her ass was.
To my surprise she'd become a bit of a raunchy lass herself, dropping innuendos and off color comments, but I still felt like I should be careful around her. That began to change one day the summer after her first year when I started teasing her about how crappy her boat was compared to mine, to which she responded with a commanding, "Suck it!"
"Ooo, I love it when you talk dirty to me," was out of my mouth before I even thought not to say it.
"Well now," she said, surprised, "Aren't you the filthy old man."
"First," I said, recovering, "I'm not that old yet, so watch it. And second, I prefer to think of it as enthusiasm."
"You mean being a pervert?"
"Call it what you will," I said half jokingly, "I have talents I like to nurture, and I've received many a compliment for them. Besides, you're the one who told me to suck it." I almost added a playful "bitch" just to push it further, but let the silence that sprung up imply it.
I could see her blushing a little, obviously not prepared for the candidness of my response. But being the fighter that she is she rebounded quickly.
"Yeah, whatever. Don't you go braggin' about bein' all that, and just behave. And keep your eyes where they oughta be. Old man."
Now it was my turn to blush, and she saw it as plain as day. Did I just get busted for checking her out oh so many times in the past? All I could manage was, "Yeah, well, some things are well worth looking at, and that's all I'm gonna say."
"I think it would be best to stop there then, yes," she added. After that we went out on the water, and by the time I got back to the boathouse she'd gone home.
The next time I saw her our conversation was much more above board. I asked how she liked living at home after having free reign at college, and snickered when she confessed to having a curfew again. I asked if she was working at all, but all her parents were making her do were house chores instead of having to find a job. When I asked what she was doing for money, she admitted she wasn't going to be able to do much during the summer because she wasn't earning much at all.
"Well, since you're already mowing your folks' lawn, you can mow mine too if you like. Twenty five bucks for forty-five minutes work?"
She gave me a suspicious little look, but said, "Sure, man, every little bit helps." And for the next couple of weeks I got my lawn mowed for just a few bucks. But she was clever enough to suspect my motives, and rightfully so, because she always mowed it in the middle of the day during the week, so I never got a chance to see her.
In order to actually spend some time with her, I decided to offer to pay her to help me put a small deck together in my back yard, a project I'd started earlier in the spring, but hadn't gotten around to completing. Honestly, I wasn't looking to start anything with her, just liked the opportunity to hang out and flirt a bit and watch her young body move. We'd maintained our pseudo-friendship, and a little harmless feminine companionship would be nice for a change.
The Saturday she came over was quite warm, and she showed up in a pair of baggy basketball shorts and a tank top with her hair back in a ponytail. I was a little disappointed that I wouldn't get the posterior view I'd hoped for, but figured it served me right for being a secret lecher. It took us about four hours to put down the deck boards on the already constructed frame, and we had a pretty good time just talking about her first year and swapping stories about our college adventures. At one point I asked her why she'd not gotten involved with anyone during the year.
