I was a single dad. My wife died of cancer three years ago leaving me with a four year old girl who is the apple of my eye. Now six, she goes to the local school where she's getting on great.
I work from home so can choose pretty well my own hours and which means I can take Bethany to and from school each day. I sometimes chat with the mums when collecting her but I'm not really interested in them as pretty well all of them are married and I suspect they're just curious about me.
I say I'm not interested but when Laura Robinson moved into the area and brought her son to school my interest perked up. I noticed the lack of a wedding band and the fact that she looked great in whatever she happened to be wearing, had a wicked sense of humor and had long blonde hair which she wore up in a pony tail. Yes, I was definitely interested.
One morning when I was dropping Bethany off she came over to me and said, without any preamble, "Seems like we have something in common."
"You have a six year old girl, while I have a six year old boy. You lost your wife to cancer while I lost my husband to the same and here we are at the same school."
I laughed, "Yes, maybe we do have a little. So," I asked, "tell me more."
"Well," she said. "It would probably take quite a while. My husband was in the military so we moved around quite a bit. It wasn't a brilliant marriage, but we got along OK. There were often long periods when he was away so I had to find my own amusement." Her voice trailed off as though she was thinking of the amusement.
Brightening up, she said, "Look, come back for a coffee and I can tell you more, a whole lot more."
I certainly wasn't going to refuse the offer of a coffee with this very attractive lady. "I live only a couple of blocks away, so we could be there in a few minutes," she added.
Her apartment turned out to be on the top floor of a very smart block. Beautifully furnished it had great views out across the city. She shed her coat revealing a white shirt and a short black skirt. The shirt looked to be a size too small judging by how her breasts pushed out against it, not that I was complaining - it looked just great.
"Coffee?" she asked making her way into the large kitchen. A few minutes later she reappeared with two cups on a tray. I noticed that at least three of the top buttons on her shirt were now undone really accentuating her cleavage. She leant forward to hand me my coffee giving me a great view of her tits.
Her eyes flicked up at me, catching me unawares as I stared into her cleavage. "Like the view?" she laughed.
Guiltily I stumbled out a reply and now I can't even remember what I said.
"Don't worry," she laughed again. "I like men staring at me like that. Makes me think I'm not over the hill yet."
"You're hardly even on the way up the hill," I managed gallantly.
"Oh, do you think so?" She sat down on the couch right next to me. We drank our coffee in silence for a moment. You could almost feel the sexual tension in the air.
She turned towards me and looking me straight in the eyes, lifted her hand and very slowly, and very deliberately, undid a further button on her shirt.
Now I could see the top of her bra and the upper swell of her breasts. This had to be an invitation I thought, and one that I was definitely going to accept. I leant slowly into her, put my hand on her chin, lifted her face up towards and slowly, oh so slowly, placed my lips on hers.