God, it was hot! I mean, seriously, one of those what the 'F' am I doing here sort of days. All I could do was look wistfully out of my office window at the people having fun on the river that my office overlooked. It must have been 33 degrees outside, which for some is nothing but to me....... it was the surface of the sun!
My office had a great view; it's in an old building which was picture book quaint old English. The place drew tourists by the bucket load, what with the cathedral and all this olde world shit around. To me, all it meant was the rent was bloody astronomical, the floors were on a slope, it was too hot in summer and a freezer in the winter.
Still, it did have its benefits, a bit like today when all the totty came out to sun themselves. At 50, I had gone past the nervous stage of staring at women as they sunbathed, and I had embraced my inner dirty old man! God, most of them, didn't see me as a threat anymore anyway, more as an object of pity; so, I happily would look at their legs and breasts as they took in all the sites. Today I was running the clock down until everyone left, and I could go without feeling too guilty, I mean, I'm the boss, but for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to get up and walk out before the girls in the office did. I just had to show them that I was diligently working as hard as they were. More than once, I'm sure I saw them looking at me, wishing I wasn't there so they could go home and enjoy the weather. Oh no, I stayed put, miserable and wanting to be outside as much as they did.
As I was staring at a stunning set of legs on a young lady sunbathing and looking on as one of the many pleasure cruisers chugged by bastards, I caught the eye of the girls' mother, or should I say she found mine. I felt my face go slightly red as the look of guilt crossed my cheeks; yes, I am staring at your daughter, yes, I am a pervert, yes, I do wish I was next to her licking my way from her toes to her..... yep my face said it all.
I quickly glanced away and pretended in my very best English fashion, that I was staring at something completely different. Then I became cross with myself; hang on a moment, it's my window. I can look at whoever I want; she can't stop me! All this internal battle must have played across my face over several seconds as I found myself having this strange inner monologue with myself. After I had gone from guilt to resentment, I retook a quick glance at mum to see if she had moved on and was back to scanning for other miscreants. Nope, she was still looking at me, but this time she appeared to have a slight smirk across her face as she had watched me; the bloody cow was having fun making me uncomfortable.
Right then, two can play at this game, so instead of being furtive, I thought I would just front it out and stare right back. As I did this, I took in everything else that was happening in this small tableau. Daughter, the one I was mentally undressing up until 20 seconds ago, was probably in her twenties, blonde, and part of pretty much every dirty old man's fantasies, really short shorts, a tiny top and pretty much every other aspect of her body in perfect proportion. I noticed a man now sitting with the group who must be dad! He was about my age but had had far too many cigarettes and beers and looked about five stone overweight. Trust me, I'm no oil painting, but I was a Greek god compared to this bloke. He was busy shoving an ice cream cone into his gob while most of it was dropping down his overstretched tee shirt. Then there was the mum, she was still staring at me and having a laugh at my expenses.
I smiled as I thought, at least I'm not married to that guy. I guess she was in her 40s, and although she wasn't drop-dead gorgeous by any means, she had the look of someone who cared about herself, and I would describe her as a bit of all right! You can't get fairer than that.
While I was working all this out, I saw that her old man was desperately trying to wipe up a massive drip of ice cream from his front with a tissue, and she glanced across at him and then back at me. I smiled at her, not being horrible but more to convey that I was sorry she was stuck with that guy and that I felt her pain. So, I shrugged my shoulders and tried to say we all have crosses to bear, don't we? She seemed to get this because she raised her eyebrows in a god, why me sort of way and went back to staring back.
After all this eye contact, I started to feel that maybe this lady was looking at me in the same way I had started looking at her daughter a few minutes ago. It is amazing what men and women are like isn't it. We don't know why, but for some reason, most of us know when someone fancies us, wants to take things further or is trying to be more than just friends. Trust me, we all get it wrong every now and again, but for most of us, the old 'I'm in here' radar seems just to pick up these signs. When it does, it's amazing how everyone seems to get just more attractive. Suddenly this strange unknown woman was looking at me, ergo she had now become an absolute babe!
The daughter was moaning by the look of it, and dad was making a move to get up as well; it must be time for them to go and take in the next attractions that this one-horse city has to offer. Mum though, just sat there and said something to them both, couldn't hear obviously, but it appeared to be along the lines of why don't you two sod off and amuse yourself? I'm staying right here in the sun, and I can't be arsed to move! Good for her, I thought.
So, the bloke and his daughter struggled up and were last seen walking off towards the high street.
Mum was still looking at me and seemed to relax just a little bit now that she was on her own. In for a penny, I thought and decided to rest my chin on my hand and just look directly at her, my eyes just running along her body from head to toe. She had trainers on and little socks that led to a beautiful set of calves and thighs. A cute denim mini skirt came next as I moved from those crossed legs higher. There is something just so sexy about little dresses; I guess it's knowing that only a few inches away is a pair of knickers and the hidden treasure they hide. How often do you walk past someone wearing something revealing and just for a moment pray that a gust of wind blows, or they bend over, just for that slight glimpse of what's underneath? Whitetop next, nothing spectacular but a decent-sized pair of breasts contained within a black bra under it. Then, she turned towards me while pretending to alter her body to catch more sun. She leaned her head back, exposing her neck and closing her eyes; before this, I saw that she had just the slightest glances around to see if anyone else was watching. She sat like this for about ten seconds before she uncrossed her legs and moved them apart just a few centimetres, nothing outrageous, just enough for me to gasp and start to feel the blood rush from my head to lower down my body. I couldn't see anything, but the promise was there, just a little more, and I would be looking up this woman's skirt. She then raised her head a little, and our eyes met; she knew I was looking and knew what she was doing and then she smiled again, leaned further back on her elbows, stretched her neck and raised her left knee. I now could see her black panties in all their glory; she swung her knees so that her legs parted wider every now and again.
