"Mike -- um, are you in a hurry to get someplace?" "Noooo."Mike -- um, are you in a hurry to get someplace?" "Noooo...." There was almost a plea in her eyes. "Would you like a-- a beer? Or something?" I'll take "or something," I thought and was careful not to look down at those legs. I shrugged and tried to put on a neutral but neighborly smile. "Yeah, sure. I'd love a beer." I walked into Carol's neatly-kept living room and she shut the door. I stood there wondering if I should sit down while she went to kitchen, but as she headed that way she gestured for me to follow. She was still wearing those super-heels and her bottom shifted nicely under the short skirt. Her blazer was already off and she looked very demure in her sleeveless white blouse. Her hair was brushed back in a tight ponytail that wouldn't have looked out of place on her fifteen-year-old daughter. I was even attracted by the silky stray wisps of blonde on the back of her neck. She handed me a Bud Draft from the refrigerator and took another for herself (never trust anyone who drinks "lite" beer). She raised an eyebrow. "Need a glass?" "Not really, no." "Good." She twisted the cap off her bottle with less effort than I required and smiled again. "I like it straight from the cold bottle, myself." She had smiled at me more in the past five minutes than she had in the previous year. As I opened my own bottle and set the cap on the counter next to hers, she took a long, ladylike swig and sighed. |