Three times the charm. (closed)

[esmeraldaflame]

Joana Micheals
A youthful looking 18 year old
5'4" 47F-28-30
Red hair, green eyes

I kick my foot across the pavement. Jesse had stood me up again. I am beginning to wonder if he's cheating on me. The little prick told me to be here at 2. Now it's almost 5! I've been standing along the waterfront for almost 3 hours. All I've done is pace back and forth between the shade of a ramada and the beach. As a redhead, I don't tan very well. Too long in the sun, and my skin turns as red as my hair. Of course, I am by no means unattractive.

I'm actually quite proud to show off my body, inspite what too much sun does to it. Currently, I am wearing tight cut-off shorts, sandals, and a tank-top that brings out my massive cleavage and barely covers my taut, flat midriff. As usual, my bulging F-cup titties strain the fabric of my shirt to the breaking point. Dressed like this, I'm certain Jesse can't resist me. Other boys can't. But after three dates since our slow dance together at senior prom, I'm beginning to wonder if he really does appreciate me as much as he says he does. This is the third time he's done this to me. I wonder if he's gay...

I pace back the ramada and sit down again on the hard, plastic stool. I'll certainly have a mouthful to say to my boyfriend, if he ever shows his little rat-face. Idly, I sweep my gaze out across the assorted gathering of pedestrians and sunbathers gathered along the water's edge. Perhaps I ought go out there too. I am wearing a swimsuit under my clothes, and I have a towel and suntan lotion in my tote-bag. Perhaps a quick dip in the water and some time suntanning might make up for another wasted afternoon.

 

[Tony2015]

David Jacobs:
A very young looking 54 years old.
6'2", 200#; fit, with a comfortable layer of life about his middle
Dark brown hair, light blue eyes


I am beginning to tire just as I reach the dock, thinking between overhand strokes, I may have to shorten this swim. My morning ritual is a two mile swim from the dock, to Gull Island out in the harbor, and back. As I grab the side of the dock and lift myself out, taking a seat on the first bench, I laugh at the thought. What're you gonna do ... swim all the way to the island and only halfway back. They call that drowning, not swimming.

The girl who runs the trinkets booth -- best friend of my grand daughter, with whom she'd been childhood friends -- tosses me a towel and says, "You're getting old, David."

"I know," I manage, still breathing heavy.

I give her smile and a wink. I've flirted with Trina since she was 14, which used to embarrass my dear Melanie horribly. Now that all of her friends are, as I remind her with laughter, legal age, it only creeps her out. She knows I would never hit on one of her friends, though. I may be a man, but -- like the trinket seller has reminded me -- I'm an old man. Still, it doesn't stop me from saying, "Still young enough to give the right woman a night she won't forget."

Trina laughs hysterically as she goes back to dealing with a customer whose been looking at shell jewelry. I go back to running the towel over my body, standing and turning to raise one foot, then the other, to dry my muscular legs. I still look good, I think to myself. Old is in the mind

As I plop back down, my breathing finally returning to normal, I consider the women who still have an interest in me. I am what many call a catch, though I don't understand why. Sure, I'm attractive and in shape, for a man my age. Well, for a man HALF my age, I think. I had a nice career that made me a lot of money and from which I was able to retire at just 52. I have a nice house, nice car, nice boat...

I could go on and on, but ... it's not what I have that matters. It's what I don't have: a woman with which to share it. The women my age come with so much baggage. Hell, the women half my age come with so much baggage! I'm not one of those men who is comfortable with becoming a part of another person's vast life, family, and history. I have a few close friends with whom I socialize, but other than that, I'm a home body.

I look back at Trina the Trinket Girl and smile, fantasizing for a moment about the stories you occasionally see in the news about some old fart marrying or dating some young tart. It's every man's dream, and some even achieve it. But most of those men are just looking for a tight, young body to grace their arm ... eye candy I think they call it. If I was to do something like that, it would be for the simple joy of having someone fresh with whom I could...

...with whom I could...

My mind wanders, and after a moment I understand why. A tight young body, as my mind had thought earlier, is crossing the boardwalk and heading my way. She's just another beautiful teen ager who will give me a slight smile as she passes, off to look for some stud of a buck to spend the day. But with my mind engrossed in thoughts of beautiful young women fulfilling my empty life, I can't help but smile broadly as she nears and give her a polite, "Beautiful day for a dip."

 

[esmeraldaflame]

I glance at the man who suddenly hails me as I pass by. I suddenly feel a little self concious of my dress. I know my Mom always cautions me about showing too much skin, but normally I don't listen. Now I have a grown man hitting on me. At least I think he's hitting on me. Actually, he's not half bad. He looks like he could either be an underwear model, or the star of an action movie - one where the guy braves fire and bullets to rescue his teenage daughter from his personal enemies out for revenge. I give him a shy smile and bob my head as a sign of acknowlegement. Despite his hard, sinewy body, I can tell he's much too old for me. He could even be my father. I turn and shuffle back to the ramada, and sit down again. I'm still in sight of this man, though. I consider moving away, but this was where I agreed to meet Jessie, and if he ever shows up, this would be where he'd expect to find me. If he shows up. Maybe I ought to just ditch that prick and go someplace else. It would serve him right for setting me up like this.

Unfortunately, my brother has the car, and he's off with dad learning how to drive. As the oldest, I ought to have that car myself. I suppose I could call Dad to come pick me up, but my brother hates riding with me because I always try to help him be a better driver. He doesn't understand how much I worry about him and want him to be safe. Dad agrees it's better I don't ride in the car when my brother is driving. So I'm stuck here at the waterfront, with nothing to do, and a creepy old muscle man manspreading on a bench about a hundred feet in front of me. I get up from my seat, and pace around the ramada again. I decide to give Jessie ten more minutes before I move to a different seat.

 

[Tony2015]

I retrieve my gym bag from Trina and thank her again for watching over it for me.

"Why don't you use the resort's gym?" she asks, looking off to the private club down the block to which she knows I am a member. "They got a pool and lockers and every thing."

"Yeah, everything," I repeat, dropping a five dollar bill onto her table and taking a two dollar candy bar. "Including old farts like me who only want to talk about their portfolios and hernia surgeries."

I hear her laughing behind me as I jog up to the beach shower heads. I stand under one and rinse off the salt water, then dry again. I step into one of the changing booths, don a loose pair of jeans and a V-neck tee shirt, then step outside to slip into my deck shoes. I check my appearance and think, Time to raise the sails.

But before I head for my boat, I head up to the outdoor café of the Ramada to get some coffee and lunch. A few minutes pass before I look up and catch sight of the bosomy beauty from down on the docks. She doesn't notice me immediately, giving me a moment to look her over well. Two competing thoughts are racing through my head: Wouldn't you just love to part those thighs? Hell, she's probably still a virgin! and You fucking pervert, she's younger than your granddaughter!

It's obvious that she is looking for someone, and when her gazing about causes her to spot me, she stops dead in her tracks. I smile -- politely, not with a horny leer. Presuming that a beautiful young woman at the bay is awaiting a lucky guy, I say, "He's late."

The waitress brings me my coffee, I thank her, and I look back to the teen. I can see in her eyes that she thinks I'm trying to hit on her ... that an old dinosaur wants to ravage her little girl body. I try to play on the thoughts by lifting the candy bar I bought from Trina and say with humor, "Candy, Little Girl?"

I see the reaction in her face and start laughing. I gesture to the chair across the table from me and say, "C'mon. I'm just having fun. Sit with an old man for a minute. Your beau won't be jealous. Everyone knows old farts like me can't get it up without pills these days anyway."

 

[esmeraldaflame]

I grimace at the old man. He's funny... But wierd. I think he's trying too hard to come off as being harmless. It's creepy, and kinda defeats the notion he's a rugged hunk of a guy. Jessie treats me more like a woman than this geezer.

"Um... No thanks," I say. "I'm waiting for my friends." I almost say "My Dad," but then I'm not 8 anymore. An 18 year old girl doesn't need her parents to protect her from perverts. I pretend I spot my friends in the distance and leave the shelter of the ramada. I walk quickly away. I know I can call my dad any time to have him come pick me up, but I don't want him to say, "I told you so," when he hears Jessie didn't show up again. He'd come by at 7 to pick me up. I still had 2 more hours. I suppose I could get some exercise.

 

[Tony2015]

"Um... No thanks," she says. "I'm waiting for my friends."

Something in her tone tells me that friends should be friend, and that she feels the need to emphasize that there will be plenty of others here shortly to defend her should I become more perverted than she already takes me.

"Suit yourself," I say with a polite tone and a smile. I watch her wander off, still looking -- or feigning to do so -- for these allusive friends. The waitress brings me my lunch, chats a moment about the sailing regatta that will start later in the day when the winds pick up, then heads back to her duties.



An hour later, after I've rigged my catamaran for the regatta, I head back up to the Ramada to find my racing partner. I get the bad news that he's wrecked his car and, because someone was seriously injured, will be dealing with the cops for the next couple of hours.

I check with the Port, but none of the regular sail watchers who fill in are about. I begin to think I'm fucked, when ... who should I see sitting down on the dock getting some sun.

"Hey," I say softly walking about her to get the sun out from behind me. I see her immediately expression and I throw my hands up in a surrender gesture. "I'm not stalking you sweetheart. Relax."

I look over my shoulder at the sound of one of my competitors calling out that our start time is only ten minutes away. I look back to her and say, "Listen, you might think I'm out of line here, and I would totally understand if you tell me to flip off."

I chuckle, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, flip off. I'm not much for profanity as you can tell." I jerk a thumb over my shoulder and say, "Listen, I'm sailing my Cat in the regatta, but I lost my racing partner. There's nothing to it, really. It's not like we're racing for money. It's just fun. I can show you the ropes -- well, the lines -- in about five minutes. Easy peasy. What do you say?"

I couldn't be sure from her expression whether she was looking for a way to tell me to fuck off or simply didn't understand that I was asking her to help sail a boat in a race. "I know, it's a strange request from someone you don't know, but ... c'mon ... you might have fun."