Tracey Prosser had driven to the beach that warm, autumn evening, after completing her school marking. She had taught for 10 years and was aware that her pupils saw her as bossy, but she did not mind that at all. Tracey liked order in her classroom and in her life. However in the past few months her ordered life had fallen apart. Her relationship with fellow teacher Ben had ended four months earlier. The separation was still raw and the manner of how it came about cut deep into her pride.
Tracey had been with Ben for six years, since she was 27 years old. He had been everything she desired in a man. Good looking, humorous, intelligent and a considerate lover. They had many fun times, but had not fully committed, maintaining separate apartments until a year ago. At this point Tracey decided she needed a little more from Ben. She was thinking marriage and wanted to start a family. She would soon become aware of a fatal flaw in her perfect man. A fear of commitment.
The more the year progressed the more Ben withdrew from her, although she did not really recognise this until the relationship ended. He appeared to have more work commitments than previously and places to be a weekend that did not include Tracey. Instead of their sex life increasing, as Tracey thought it would, it declined to once or twice a week.
Then came the bombshell. Ben said they needed to talk, but had then proceeded to do all the talking. He told Tracey he had met another woman through work, they had not had sex, but they had a strong attraction to each other. Tracey's heart sank and she burst into tears. Ben consoled her and then her logical personality type kicked in.
"We can work this through and come out stronger," she had said, or words to that effect.
They made love and Tracey was reassured. However her confidence was short lived as a day later she had enquired with a mutual male friend of theirs.
"Look I'm not going to let you be made a fool of Tracey. Ben's being screwing this woman most days for the past six months," the friend told her candidly.
A huge argument ensued, full of accusations and tears. Ben accused her of being a control freak, leading the relationship in the direction she wanted, without consulting him. He maintained he had been forced to find solace in the arms of another. Ben then departed and did not return.
Tracey was devastated, her self-esteem shattered. She went through all the emotions. Anger, denial, depression, with a sense that she was a failure, all pervasive. Friends were well-meaning and attempted to console her as best they were able. Aware she was an attractive woman; they wanted to pair her up with suitable males. However, for four months Tracey had not felt at all attractive and had rebuffed any matchmaking.
Her friends were correct in their assessment of Tracey. Despite wearing glasses, she was pretty, with shoulder length brown hair and a cute chipmunk face. She looked younger than her age. The narrow rectangular glasses complimented her high cheek bones and brown eyes. Her lips were full, with the top one in a bow shape and the bottom plump and slightly curled. She was slim, with B cup breasts, but flared at the hips. Despite working out regularly Tracey felt her bottom was a little too big, although Ben had not agreed. She tanned well, but had to watch herself in the mid-summer sun.
On this day Tracey decided the wind was a little chilly so she would merely sit in her late model Honda hatchback, read the book and look up to enjoy the view. The road ran beside the beach, with a Park on the opposite side. She had done this a couple of times before and found it very therapeutic.
Tracey had been parked in her car for about 20 minutes, largely engrossed in her novel. It was an adult novel with a fair amount of sex. Despite having no thoughts of sex for four months, Tracey felt a slight stirring in her lower stomach as she read. She was wearing normal attire for the weather. A mid-thigh length, yellow and white sun dress, with narrow straps. She had on a silk bra and panties, bare legs and flat sandals.
Shortly, Tracey glanced up at the sea glistening in the sun. Her gaze then shifted to the other side of the road, where she noted a man jogging shirtless around the park. He was youngish, probably early 20's Tracey guessed. She made sure she was again watching on his the next lap. This time she looked more closely and noted he was good looking, with short cropped hair, a toned torso and wearing very short running shorts. Tracey's libido might have been lower of late, but she liked what she saw and could no longer concentrate on her book as she awaited his return. However, on his next lap he stared directly at her and she looked down quickly, horrified that her voyeurism had been noticed.
Tracey kept her head down and tried to concentrate on her book. Next minute there was a tapping at the passenger side window. She knew it would be him and her face reddened. She slowly looked up and there was her runner, smiling in a friendly manner. She turned on the ignition and cautiously lowered the window half way.
"Hi, I saw you watching me and thought I'd come over and introduce myself."
"I wasn't watching you," Tracey stammered.
"That's Ok," the young man said dismissively, "I suppose you're here for the view."
"Yes, it's a great view."
They then got into a light banter about the scenery and the locality. Tracey began to relax, drinking in the only view she was interested in right at this moment. Her erotic novel, coupled with the sight of this Adonis had stirred something that had remained dormant for months.
Tracey lowered the window all the way and he leaned on the door. His head and shoulders filled the entire window. His muscles were clearly defined and coved in a sheen of sweat. She could smell him. Despite the exercising it wasn't strong, merely a nice masculine odour, much like a man would exude when having sex. Tracey tried to push this thought from her mind when the young man spoke again.
"Would you like to see the best vantage point?"
"Where is that," Tracey replied, happy to have her thoughts brought in check.
